idontbelieveingrammar

Freshman year, I lived in the dorms and Friday night dinner often consisted of a bowl of captain crunch. A friend’s parents came to visit her. And they were fabulous parents who volunteered to save not only their daughter, but also some of her friends on her floor (shout out 4th floor Stangel) from eating dorm food. And they treated us to dinner at Olive Garden. About halfway through the salad, her mom turns to us and says, “So girls, tell me when you were saved?” I about choked on my breadstick. I am not sure how I responded. But I am pretty sure there was some mumbling and looking at my shoes. Even though I had a real answer. I was super uncomfortable giving my “testimony” to people I had just met. And to be honest. You could ask me the same question right now, and I’d probably cringe and spit out some lame version of 8th grade church camp. But if we just started talking. Really talking. About things I love and like and where I’ve been and what I’ve learned and who I am. Then I’d get...

I just finished reading Shauna Niequist’s new book, Bitterswee t . And first off, no, this is not a blog tour. I actually paid full price for this book. And it might be the first book that I have paid full price for in years. But it was worth every penny. Really. I could write lots of things about this book, but mostly I just suggest you read it ( or Cold Tangerines if you haven’t already read that). It will make you happier and hungrier ( she talks about good food a lot). One chapter she mapped out the things she does and equally important, the things she doesn’t do. In other words we all have only a fixed amount of energy. When we choose to do something, we are ultimately choosing not to do other things. So it is kind of important to figure out those other things ahead of time. My “things I do” list would be eerily similar to hers and so instead of plagiarizing I’ll only post my “things I don’t do”. And let me clarify – everything on this list is something I used to do, I should do ...

My friend Tina runs blog tours (and takes amazing photos, makes mac and cheese from scratch and brews my favorite cup of coffee in the metroplex). I like to read and I have a blog. I also really like free books. So it is a match made in heaven. (A very caffienated heaven). Except for the fact that book reviews, or the grown up version of a book reports, always kind of stress me out. I think you are supposed to talk about what the book is about and the author, but really the back cover usually does a pretty good job of that. You are supposed to give your own “critique” of the book. But I think this girl with a blog who doesn’t know when to properly use a comma shouldn’t really make reccomendations or complaints to someone who has actually published a book and actually uses spell check. I also think most book reviews sound a little too comercially. So instead, I usually just try to write something somehow related to the book and then plug it at the end, because I did get a free copy aft...

So, this isn't really about music at all. Feel free to skip to the end if you are only here for some good tunes. Soon I’ll be heading to the mountains for a few weeks. Summer and vacation means one thing: books. Lots of books. I average about 5 a week on vacation. And 3-4 for a usual summer week. Really. My books need their own suitcase. I know I should breakdown and get a Kindle to save packing space….but. I like turning pages and getting a little carsick on those winding roads. So in preparation for my trip – I haven’t packed. I haven’t thought about how to entertain my kids on that horrid 12 hourish drive. I haven’t thought about hiking boots and fishing poles and wool socks. But, I have spent my mother’s day $ (thanks mom and dad) on amazon.com. And everyday I come home to a joyful little brown package in the mail. With a book inside that I will sneak into someone's diaper bag or tackle box so I can take them all. School is almost out. (well for some of you it is, but I hav...

I used to never question God. It was just part of the way things were. Just like I believed in Santa and the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny. And eventually I grew up and started to wonder. I always believed, But occasionally I started to wonder if he was always good. If he really loved me. Singular me rather than an all inclusive version. That he was paying attention. That my prayers mattered.` And I didn’t know that I should play by the rules. That questioning these outloud things in a Bible study or Sunday School class Will get you bumped to the top of the prayer list. Because I know. But sometimes I wonder. And I didn’t need their scripture memory verses or their books or their prayers. (but I guess prayers never hurt) And I was just hoping for someone else to say “me too”. And, Jason Boyett’s book, O Me of Little Faith Is one great big “me too” And like most books I like he asks a whole lot more questions than he answers. Hard ones. Ones without real answers. Ones that make me wa...

Recently I was sitting in a coffee shop with a friend. (which could be almost any day) But on this particular day there was a guy sitting at a table near me about a chapter into Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne. I warned him to be careful reading that book. He laughed awkwardly. And I said, no really, be careful. It’s a tough book to read. And try and live your life the same way afterwards. And so is this book. And it is slightly easier to relate to than a radical from Philidelphia (who I happen to love). Because she was a little more like me. Suburban and comfortable. With an unshakable sense that it is all a bit too much. Too much and lacking all at the same time. The book is about Lisa and her teenage daughter’s trip to Swaziland with Children's Hope Chest. So before I even read this book I was sold. Tom Davis and his amazing organization . check. Lisa Samson ( uhm…have you read Quaker Summer….some amazing fiction….if not check it out from the library TODAY!) check. ...

That cheetos and gogurt counts as a healthy dinner for my kids. That my jeans shrunk in the dryer. A lot. That you can’t really tell that I didn’t shave past my ankles in these pants. That no one will think less of me when I show up to a kids birthday party with the present wrapped in paper bags and duct tape. That I can hit snooze one more time and still get to work on time. That I have the time and money to stop and get coffee on the way to work. That I will actually grade all those papers I brought home with me. That no one will notice that I am wearing one St. Patricks day sock and one Easter bunny sock. (so got busted on that one). That I will be able to take a nap when I get home. That no one notices that I don’t really edit my blog. That my sons pants still fit ( at least most 4 year olds don’t know what highwaters are). That 31 is still young and hip. That if I put on fancy earrings and mascara no one will notice that I didn't wash my hair. That nachos with extra jalapenos ...

I got married and moved to tiny apartment sight unseen in Arlington. Actually I was out of town at a shower so my husband did all of my actual moving without me. Did I mention I didn’t know a soul in Arlington. I did have a few distant friends in the metroplex but quickly learned that the metroplex is a really big place and I better hurry up a make a few in my own zipcode. And I thought it would be easy enough. Just like at summer camp or in college. But months passed. I joined a church, I started a new job (and a bad one at that) and still no real friends. Did I mention that my husband also traveled. A lot. I spent a good part of this year alone in that tiny apartment lonely and sad. I mourned the loss of friends. I fought on the phone with my husband in some distant state. I wandered through Barnes and Nobles several times a week and saw almost any movie that came out. By myself. If Shaun was gone for a longer stretch, it would be weeks where no one touched me. Something I never noti...