6. I am a bit misplaced...

Where? Well that I'm not sure of. I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach lately...

It's the same feeling that I got when I was little and I was left behind at a wedding...I was too busy playing under a table with some friends I had met that night to realize that my entire family had left...my parents thought my aunt and uncle had me, my aunt and uncle thought my grandparents had me...lo and behold when everyone met at my aunts house I was nowhere to be found. Now, that's the side I always hear about. From my side it felt a bit like, crawling out from under the table, a fort, a sanctuary and scanning the room for just one familiar face and finding none. I'm sure many feelings rushed in, fear of being alone, excitement of being unsupervised, guilt of having hidden unintentionally, loneliness of being forgotten. I'm sure at that point I weighed my options, go back and continue playing, or search harder. There aren't really many options when you are under the age of ten. I don't remember what I did actually. I'm sure my family quickly realized that I was not with them and even more quickly came back to pick me up. They are not negligent, and never have been...but the feeling of being temporarily is what I do remember.

I used to have dreams about being lost. I think everyone does.

So what if I am lost now. For real lost. If I look at a map I can tell you exactly where I am. If I look back through journals and pictures, and hear the stories of my family and friends, I can tell you exactly where I've been. In this moment though, where am I? Who am i? If I scan my life are there familiar faces to rely on? Is the environment friendly? The moving forward scares me too. When you're lost you're supposed to stay put...Do I just stay here under the table and play a bit longer? Or do I stand up and search harder? Will someone just come in and rescue me from choosing at all?

I'm finding more and more that the option of waiting to be found or rescued is not based in reality.

So. I move. Slowly. And sometimes stop and turn around to hide under the table again.

5. I just can't stop talking about myself.

I am proud. I am proud and selfish.
I can't help but think that I am worse off for it.
There is something in me that craves people's attention.
Unhealthily (if that is a word)
And really I know it's not something I need.
It's stupid really.

Part of being selfish is always finding a way to direct the conversation to yourself....

Person 1: I took a great class the other day, I really learned a lot about (fill in the blank). I think I'll go again.
Alicia: Wow. That's great. I've never taken that class. I should.

***official end of conversation***....Where do you go from there? Tips?

Or perhaps, and this is really something I think,
I really can't think of anything else to talk about but myself?
It's not that I think I'm that much better than ANYTHING else that could become a topic of conversation....
but really, the topic I know the very most about is myself.

Goal for the week: Find something interesting to talk about....that doesn't include myself....I'll have to google it.

In other news, I am going to Michigan this weekend to celebrate the joining of two close friends of mine. I'm very pleased that they're tying the knot...Should be a wild weekend. Lots of....PJs in public places??? Awkward. I think I'll stick with clothes. yep. :P

4. What if Dog was one of us...

Okay, okay. It's been awhile. I have just been so busy with my unbelievably exciting life to post here. ha. oh wait.

So today, I'm in the laundry room putting in a couple of loads. There's a woman beside me who has about 3 washers going and she's lifting up the lids every two seconds (like a kid and a refrigerator...is the light still on?) Anyways. I'm in my very zen laundry place when suddenly out of nowhere comes the loudest and most terrible bark I have ever heard! I turn around to see this GIANT dog IN THE LAUNDRY ROOM!!! Granted, he was on a leash and his owner was with him (he was with the neurotic laundry lady) So I literally JUMP out of my skin, turn around with my hand on my chest and start shaking...the woman sees her lovely dog, says something sweet to him and then invites him over to take a sniff of me. WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM WOMAN!?!?!?!?!?!? Seriously. Did she know anything about me? Did she know for a fact that I was not absolutely terrified of dogs, gargantuan ones at that? I was so angry.

Public Service Announcement:
Part A. DON'T BRING YOUR FRICKEN DOGS INTO THE LAUNDRY ROOM
Part B. When someone looks terrified. Apologize and send the dog away. You idiot.

3. Old, new, whatever.

Hey all.
So. It's a new year. It has been for just over a week now. I have to say, my new years celebrations were some of my favourite to date. Actually, thinking about those celebrations, and listening to everyone talk about getting married, having babies and all that gross stuff (she adds quickly to protect her pride and sense of self worth), has inspired me....

I think I'm going to host myself a bachelorette party.
I mean really. I am WAY more bachelorette than any of my soon to be married friends.
And I love having fun.
So? Are you single? A girl?
You're in.
ha ha.

On a completely different note. I was sitting here on this dreary day, all by myself at Collins, reading stupid magazines, and I found this great site listed in "Wish" magazine. Pretty soon this company called BotaniCALLS will be launching a system that you can attach(?) to your plants and when they need water or have been overwatered (etc) they will actually call you on the phone. The demos are HILARIOUS. Definitely check it out.

Peace.

2. I'm pretty okay at a lot of things.

I can sing, but I'm no Alicia Keys
I can play guitar, but I can't play Jack Johnson
I am young and in ministry, but I'm no Rob Bell
I can write a decent blog, but I'm no Tim Grace (ha ha)
I am passionate about greening, but I'm no David Suzuki
I can drive my hot van, but I'm no Helio Castroneves
I like music, but I'm not some music critic
I am decent looking, I'm no Li Lo
I can cook a nice chicken stew from scratch, but I'm no Rachel Ray
I love movies, but I'm no Ebert
I can google with the best of them, but I'm no Bill Gates
I can plan a pretty good event, but I'm no Martha Stewart
I'm funny (looking), but I'm no Ellen Degenerous.

Point is. I am not particularly amazing at anything and I'm not particularly passionate about anything.

I used to be. I was very passionate about faith, and community, and youth. Don't get me wrong. I still think those things are important, but they have lost their lustre. Am I getting old and jaded?

Do any of those people I mentioned above feel particularly amazing at what they are doing? Or do their writers, make up artists, managers or the voices in their head do most of the work for them?

I'm not sure. For now I remain, your mediocre friend.

Peace

1. I am no longer "cool"

The funny thing about my above statement is that it assumes that I once was cool. I mean, I used to think that I was cool...Well, there have definitely been "cool" moments anyways.

A couple that I can still remember:

1. being "friends" with about 85% of the people in my graduating class. (no, not like BFFs, but at least I knew them, and we talked)

2. Being on the road "rockstarism" (yes, I was on the road with a "Christian Rock Band" but that was cool to me then...plus we did some pretty cool stuff)

3. Bible College. I was even "popular" I would say I knew at least 85% of the student body pretty well...again, not BFF well, but I knew more about them than most of my high school friends.

4. Back when I knew what the hell I wanted to do with my life. Even my mom has started to blacklist me on the Christmas list. Her words: "You already graduated, you have a job, there's nothing else really interesting to tell people" So, now I'm a big loser who is in a job that they THOUGHT they wanted to do, being boring doing it.

5. When I was the cool new youth leader (the one with all the buzz, who had charisma and style, now my youth tell me all the time how very NOT cool I am...)

See, I guess in a way I need to mourn my coolness' exit a bit. Perhaps I have never been as cool as I thought I was...but even that little bit of cool deserves some consideration. On the other hand, I'm starting to be okay with it. It's like another portal has opened. Now that I'm not cool I get to be...mature? *sigh* that's not better.

But seriously. There's something about being cool that isn't all that great anyways. I just read this blog by a musician and fellow Youth Encounter guy Nate. I don't think we ever met while I was on the road, but his post meant something to me in the midst of my reflections on "cool" Take a look, it's called "God Save the Cool Kids"

If you're a loser like me, it might strike a chord. If not, chew on it anyways.