Party necessary.

Do you want to know something top secret? So top secret that almost everyone who has ever been in my home already knows? I'm a mess. Now, don't get me wrong, I clean things. There is no mold growing anywhere, dishes go directly into the dishwasher 98% of the time, and I regularly clean the bathroom, vacuum, and even occasionally dust (although I swear it is an act of futility in my house). I am the cluttery, I don't put my stuff away, kind of mess.

I can't seem to stop either. I tried. I bought very open furniture when I moved last. My desk and bookshelf are all open boxes. I thought if everything was visible I'd be more concerned about keeping it neat. These are the lies I tell myself. I do not keep it clean. I can just see the mess. I am, however, considering buying some of those cute doors you can add to my furniture to hide the mess.

The only true solution is to have a party. And, not just a pizza and a dvd with the girls kind of party - a real party, preferrably with men. There have to be guys to really guilt me into cleaning off my desk, putting away the random assortment of products in the bathroom, and, most importantly, picking up all stray laundry off the floor.

You see, my bathroom is in the basement. My bedroom must be passed through to arrive at said bathroom. All stray clothing must be hidden for a man to pass through. Guilt and shame are good motivators.

Also, I like to cook for people. AND I have this great plan where I borrow a projector (from an unnamed source that may or may not employ me.) in order to project a movie onto the back of my house. There will be popcorn and homemade ice cream and probably raisinets and definitely red vines. I can't decide yet on the movie though. Something with mass appeal (low violence, high laughter). Suggestions anyone? If you choose the winning movie you will be invited to the party for sure. Especially if you are a man, because, well you know...

And now I feel like I better go clean something before I sleep...

Sometimes on Friday nights...

Sometimes on a Friday night I like to work until the sun comes up. Wait, that's not it...

Seriously though, sometimes I like to do NOTHING. Literally, nothing. When nothing is planned on a Friday night sometimes I like to go home, put on pajamas, watch 3 movies I've seen over and over, play a stupid game on my phone, and order pizza and eat it in the dark because it's too hot for cooking or excess use of electricity.

Then I begin to question my behavior. I could call someone. I could make them dinner. I could not spend money on pizza. I could be less anti-social. I could go outside (No, too far. According to Bugsy, it was 102 when I came home earlier - plus the marshland type humidity. Eww.). I could read a book. I could do some work. I could clean my house. I should have had a salad.

I could put in another movie and distract myself. Oooh!  and look! Someone responded on Words With Friends. (Shameless Friday Slug!)

I'll be productive tomorrow, and maybe I'll go outside. I'm far too white for the amount of sun available. My legs are opaque. You shouldn't look like that in a dress and you can't not wear a dress when it is this hot. You'll die. (Why is summer so long? Fall, come to me!)

And whatever you do, don't try to ride that new bike for more than 20 minutes. You'll die then too. What were you thinking? 

Happy weekend people! Do something you love or do nothing at all and love that.

It IS "just like riding a bike". It IS!! Eventually anyway...

Saturday, I went to inspect bicycle options. I found one that meets the basic needs - which were pretty basic - no triathlons in my near future. Basically, it needed wheels and a seat that didn't look like torture. I found some reasonable options online, but did NOT want to put together a bike. I decided it would be far more frustrating than fulfilling (sometimes I like to conquer projects, but...). I found one that had wheels, was put together, and was on sale - dream bike. It's only downfall was its pinkness. It has some silverness for counterbalance, but still, significant pinkness - and I am not a Barbie girl in a Barbie world. I am cheap though, so I got over it - mostly...

I didn't buy the bike Saturday though, for a couple reasons. First, I fear impulse purchases. Apparently even ones that are actually pretty planned.  More significantly though, it occurred to me that I wasn't sure the last time I rode a bike. I remember really liking it as a kid and I can see the value of the exercise and convenience where I live. So, it seemed like a great plan. However, the last time I can recall riding was in college while camping with a friend's family. I also remember falling off, twice, at least... (In my defense, this bike belonged to my friend's brother and reaching both pedals at once was a bit challenging for my significantly-shorter-than-his legs.). I'd had this thought before, but thought, surely I'll be fine. This is why people say: "it's just like riding a bike". Still if you stand next to this rather unassuming piece of metal in the store, you might panic and think to yourself: "a bike?" "Will that hold me up?" "Are you sure they don't only hold up small children and Lance Armstrong?" "Can I remain upright?" "I can rarely make it through a day without walking into a wall!" Ok, it may not have been quite this dramatic. (No, it was. It sounded just like that inside of my head.). So, I decided I better try to ride a bike before I invested a lot of money into something I'd get on only to immediately break both of my arms and legs (Ok fine, maybe I'd just skin my knee. Still unappealing!). So, I borrowed my roommate's bike. And it was a delightful experience completely lacking in injuries of any sort. Of course it was. "It's just like riding a bike." Most people believe this. I have issues...

So,  Sunday I bought the bike. I rode the bike (briefly, it was 100 degrees outside. Eww.). I'm going to love the bike, despite its pinkness. (I'm going to embrace its pinkness. "Come on Barbie, let's go party!") I'm delighted by its presence in my life - like a small child with a new bike (growing up is overrated.). I even cleaned out the shed to give it a home and bought it a fancy lock and a cool flashy light (because we know I'll ride at night. It's inevitable.). I'm going to be the coolest biker in town (No, no I'm not cool. I know. Let me just believe this for 5 minutes though ok?)

I'm so glad it's really "just like riding a bike." It's nice to have things you can depend on - even when you don't.

Weekend-ing myself into a "relaxed" frenzy

I haven't had a real weekend since... Sigh. Let's not talk about it. Too. Long.

All week, I have been vey excited about this coming weekend. I had ZERO real obligations. Really. Not one. This means, of course, that I planned 215 things to do. Suddenly, this afternoon I realized I was a little stressed out about all the things I wanted to do this weekend when I had nothing to do. I hope to...

Finish a book and a half

Clean out the shed

Clean my house (suitcases and laundry have taken OVER)

Wash the humidity glued pollen-y grossness off my windows

Get my oil changed and do some other car maintenance-y type stuff

Wash my car (no small feat without a hose, a designated parking spot, and with a slightly quirky window situation. Remarkably, there are like zero self-wash car places around. I'd shell out the quarters, but it seems nobody wants my quarters. Perhaps this needs some further googling...)

Spend time with several friends

Cook at home - store some for next week's lunches (I am the worst lunch packer. For example, today: ginger snaps and leftover conference Sunchips. "Umm. Grow up Megan!" I hear you. I know, I know. I'm trying...)

Buy a bicycle (or at least investigate/order one)

Investigate the purchase of a bicycle rack that might fit on my tiny, tiny car without causing it harm

Lay in the sun somewhere green (Anywhere but my woodchipped backyard!)

Actually GO to church - not listen to it on the internet from somewhere else (in my pajamas)

Sleep in

I think that last one may have to go if there is hope for the rest of the list. Actually, I think I've decided that I'm firmly commited to refusing to commit to any of these activities or much of a schedule (which would be the only way to get it all in.). Nothing on the list is time sensitive. Except maybe the oil change and friends and church. Hmm. See? Do you see this? Already thwarting my own commitment to uncommitment. Fail. I watched a movie and talked on the phone to a good friend tonight. Relaxation defined. I'm trying. One step at a time... I think I can talk myself into it...

Happy weekend to us all. Hope you're all getting a sincere break amongst your productivity and that you haven't overthought your weekends to the point of frenzied constant activitiy. Good luck to us all.

On Midnight's failure to mumble

I am really going to try not to be one of those people who only blogs every 3 months and people think: "Why does she even bother?" A two week  break so early in things seems to say this intention is a bold-faced lie. I'm serious though. I can do better. This was not the average 2 weeks... Let me explain.

You see...

The week of July 4th was our National Adoption Conference at work. It was exhausting, but it was great. I love getting to be face-to-face with people who I talk to, work with, hear about, but hardly ever see. People who care about the things I care about and come together to be in the same place to learn to do the great things they do a little bit better. It's cool that these experienced servants let me be in their midst and it's great if we can give them an opportunity to come together and learn to be just a little bit better through the conference.

Then, sadly, my Grandmother passed away. I spent a hard, heartbreaking week in Florida with family. While it was good to reconnect with some people there, mostly it was frustrating and exhausting and sad and basically, just hard. I just got home tonight, and I'm still trying to take it all in. I'm not sure when or if I'll ever fully process it all, but I'm glad I went and I'm glad to be back home tonight with my own pillow and back to my normal schedule.

All that to say, sorry I deserted you bloggy-land. I didn't mean to. I had 2 full weeks and the 2nd, I was in a bit of an imposed internet detox. It was probably good for me, but it sure does feel like something's missing without my normal access.

Alright, that's all the mumbling for tonight. I'll be back though - sooner, really.

Fireworks + Monuments = Desire to Salute (but not tap dance)

May I just take a brief moment to say: Independence Day is cool. Profound right? My life is pretty great. I got to watch fireworks over the Potomac, on the National Mall, with the Washington Monument in front of me and the Capitol behind me. I got to do it with great friends and thousands of patriotic strangers gathered and grateful that we can do things like lay back in the grass in safety and freedom delighted by explosions of color and happiness and with little fear of less desirable explosions. Doesn't it make you just want to salute everyone you see, wear a shirt with a giant flag on it, and maybe learn to tap dance? You don't want to tap dance? Yeah, me either - too far... That's the beautiful thing! We can change our minds. We don't have to tap dance unless we want to. Freedom! The desire to salute things was pretty real though. I refrained, but just barely.

I did not refrain from singing God Bless America aloud to myself on the way home though. It was extra special because the top on my car was down and I was sitting in S-L-O-W traffic and it was a lovely evening and well... other people, also enjoying their convertible, heard. I really need to remember that I lose my bubble of privacy when that top is down. Oh well, we're all happier for it. They have a really good story about a weird girl belting out God Bless America on the bridge. I got to belt out God Bless America. Who needs to be embarassed? (Me, but this has so many bigger things to compete with on a regular basis that I probably won't even remember it tomorrow. Earlier today, I walked right into a sign post. See? Who cares about singing in traffic. Sign post in plain sight? Hilarious - what's wrong with me?)

Another good 4th of July tip free to you all: Never opt to participate in fireworks by radio instead of in person. It is not the same. I was reminded today of a funny memory of "watching" fireworks in bed with my Grandmother one Independence Day when I was 10 or 11. Enthusiastic gentleman narrated the colorful (or so we were told) bursts of sound. If given the option, don't choose radio - unless you can do it with your grandmother and laugh about it forever. Ridiculous makes some of the best memories.

Wisdom of a 5-Year-Old

This week, I was labeled. No big deal. We're all labeled and judged all the time about a million things big and small. Sometimes labels are positive, sometimes not so much. They are often helpful. In fact, I usually really like the order they bring to things. Still, rarely can we find one label so big that it completely defines a thing - or person. Anyway, I was labeled this week in a difficult, but useful way. The label was heavy and hard to wrap my mind around because I didn't expect it. The truth is though, I asked for it. Literally. I asked this person what they thought. They responded from a place of good intentions and within their expertise. I also have come to a place where I think the label is probably accurate. I think it will be helpful to know. Still, I didn't like it. And I let it get a hold of my mind and define me this week. I was all frazzled  and crazypants. I was afraid to say it aloud to anyone else lest it migh come true (As if I'm the One who can speak things into being. Note to self: You don't have a firm handle on sovereignty and who it belongs to just yet...). I knew better. Objectively, I told myself not to do it. I said to Self: "this is not all you are! This is hard, but you are ok! Keep moving forward!" Self said: "I'm locking myself in my room and I'm not coming out until you and your stupid label go away forever!"

Self was kind of a brat this week. Self is not always a grown up, despite my best efforts. Self is sometimes (shock!) a little too led by her emotions.

Seriously though, before we decide I have a split personality disorder, I'll stop talking about Self as if it isn't just me being a brat. The truth of it all is, sometimes, it really sucks to do the right thing. This week, I didn't respond well to information that I asked for, needed to hear, and is probably spot on. We lie if we try to convince ourselves that good is also easy. Good is hard. That's what I learned today - relearned. Any 5-year-old could have told me that it was hard to be good, but I should do it anyway. I will probably need to relearn it again tomorrow though.

Oh to be 5 and smart again...

Sovereignty, Democracy, and Dancing

Church tonight was focused on the Sovereignty of God. (Check out NCC's http://www.godanthology.com/ - Lovin' it at week 5 of 9.) God's sovereignty was an interesting thing to think about on a weekend when we so proudly celebrate democracy. I'm a big fan of God's sovereignty and our democracy and the dichotomy is only of face value in this case. The truth is, there isn't a thing about His extraordinary sovereignty and our cool little democratic republic that is mutually exclusive. We have the right to have chosen our system and to exist under it because He said so. "Let there be free will" - or something like that. Plus, the U.S. government is inspired in large part by biblical recommendations on government. (That book is so handy!)

It's good to be reminded that God's willing to lead - more than willing, the only one capable. We're the only resistance. If we're willing to let him lead though, we're going to be much better dancers.

If you know me at all, you know I don't really dance when I can be seen. I'm terribly awkward and clumsy. I think it's probably as upsetting and embarassing for witnesses as it is for me (you're welcome for my resistance in this case.). So, this analogy in my head was a good one as it struck me tonight. The few times I've been sucked into dancing over the last few years I've realized that not only do I dance terribly by myself, I also follow terribly. So, I need a strong lead. I need someone to stare me down, guide me around, and not hesitate at all while being very patient and forgiving that I'm making him look pretty stupid compared to his far superior skill. God's a really good lead. Unlike all of the humans who are probably pretty grateful that I give up so easily, God has been using "bad dancers" to do His work since Adam & Eve.

The point here isn't that I'm clumsy though. (I don't feel the need to convince anyone of this - I don't remember anyone ever arguing this point.) The point is, if we'd just let Him lead more, we'd be better dancers. Think of all the wimps and weirdos He's done his work with over the years. He'll turn our awkard stumblings into His grace if we let Him.

I could really stand to be a better dancer. All that free will, and we're really just better off if we give it back. All I want to do is be led. Well, at least I want to want that... We'll see. I bet there is at least a little more awkward dancing in my analogous future (in my actual future I've learned to avoid dancing pretty effectively in any place where others might see.). I'm going to practice being led this week though. It's a real, live actual goal. Because I said so and you heard it. Feel free to remind me. I'll try to be correctable, but that's a work in progress too...

And I might just dance for real when you're not looking this week. What's the point of having your very own basement bedroom to hide in if you can't be a little stupid?

Morning is overrated.

I've been thinking about blogging for weeks - well years, but more seriously in the last few weeks. The title and the design and what to say in THE FIRST POST have been haunting me. I'm taking it all too serioously - I do that... What I really wanted all along was to get down to sharing the words. So here is where we shall begin - at the beginning of the day. Morning - and why I'm opposed.

I have never been a morning person. Morning is hard. People who wake up with the birds and sing along baffle me. Please, for your own safety, never sing to me in the morning. I am successfully fake-happy- morning-Megan, but if you sing I can't make any promises that the fake happy will be able to stand strong - particularly if you're trying to wake me up. Bring on the showtunes, but please just save them for a few hours.

I wake up slowly. In a fog. At the last possible minute. In a rush. I know it's not a good system, but I seem to be sincerely incapable of changing it. Mornings where anything much at all gets done to my hair are a major (and infrequent) victory. It just hurts too much to have the light in my eyes for all that getting ready business.

Morning is loud. People are rushing off to places. Some people - perhaps even most people - have this expectation that we're all well rested and full of energy in the morning. They say things in the morning about being "rip roaring and ready to go." What does that even mean? I neither rip, nor roar. I'm not sure what the benefits would be and I don't think I'll start - at any time of day, but especially in the morning. I realize that the sun was very important in ancient times. When we were lacking in electricity and needed to work by sunshine. I don't need that now though, I'd get enough sunshine in the afternoon hours for healthy survival. I'm certain. I've heard all that business about circadian rhythm and sunshine. It's a convincing argument, but I'm not sold. I've tried to change my "bad" late night habits, but I hated it.

I'm just a night owl. I like the hours between eleven and two best. I like the quiet murmurs of nighttime. The cooler weather, the calm in the air. I think clearly when most people have stopped thinking for the day. This blog is to share my hours of clarity. I promise I won't always trash morning and sing the praises of midnight. It's just my time to reflect on the day without the loud brightness of it all overwhelming me. I'm looking forward to sharing it with you.

Seriously though, for both of our sakes, do all you can not to call me before 8 am. It's better for both of us. I promise that anything I say before 10:30 or so just won't be my best. And before 8 is likely to be completely incoherent. I may not remember the conversation at all.  Just write it down - try again at 11 or so, maybe bring coffee if it's really important.