So far, not off to a great start, are we?

While that wasn't a top priority, I feel like I'm doing a good job focusing on the goals that are. I've been knocking out some chores, and I hope to still accomplish my goal of getting my room back to uncluttered by end of this month. It's tough since I'll only have about 16 hours total that are available to allocate toward that task. :D 

I started reading this book on the plane today. I only managed about 60 pages before the turbulence made me put it down and try for a nap. I feel like I disagree with some of his basic premises (he and Cyndi Lauper have similar outlooks); but some of his time management and focus techniques are smart. I'd definitely like to feel like I have more time available to myself in 2013, but still continue to do the things I enjoy. 

I'll update when I finish the book and have had time to mull over some ideas for a bit. 

Oh yeah, and about that plane? I'm in Miami. It's pretty awesome so far. More on that later. I have a slew of trips scheduled for this year, so I'm really going to need to use some of those time-saving techniques to make more free time for enjoying life.

1) We* penalize students for not reading literature accurately and in context in school. What was the background of the author? At the time that the piece was written, what was the historical environment? What linguistic techniques were utilized - sarcasm? Hyperbole? Personification?

But after all that work on the academic side, but then we ask them to read the Bible (or the Koran, or the Talmud) blindly and "on faith" (which, in this particular context, actually means "don't question"). Is it any surprise that many smart people struggle to reconcile traditional religious teachings with intellect? 

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2) We* actively fight to give unborn children** the right to live. We argue that Beethoven, John Wesley, etc. were all perfect candidates for abortion given their mothers' delicate health issues; overabundance of children; etc. etc. as reasons why today's children should be given the chance to solve tomorrow's problem. However, in addition to not providing optimal alternatives (better orphanages, more adopting families, better foster care system), we also are quick to chant for the blood of homocidal/suicidal tortured souls. "Everyone should carry guns***," some cry, so that we do not need to wait for the authorities to show up when someone brandishes a firearm in a threatening (or self-threatening manner). Instead of talking people off the proverbial ledge, we're anxious to quickly shove them off lest they accidentally grab someone next to them and take them along for a fatal fall. 

I see a disconnect, but I don't know how to phrase it in a constructive way. 

It's possible that vigilantes just aren't out for a discussion, anyway.

*I said "we", when I somewhat meant to generalize "conservative religious folk". I still feel like I belong in that overall category, like a toy in a toybox, but I'm not sure I fit in. My intent is not to sound arrogant, though, so "we" it is because I'm every bit as judgmental and misguided in my own ways. 

**Not intending to derail the tragedy into a pro-life/choice discussion; I simply want to comment on the connection I made between the types of "deserving" and "undeserving" life and death decisions get made. 

***I don't want to get into a gun control debate, because I'm pretty moderate on the topic. I support the right to bear arms, but I also fully support more accountability on the acquisition front simply because I would really like to not get shot without good reason. I think, though, that no Christian should actively celebrate the death of another (my penchant for gory war and zombie movies notwithstanding, y'know). At the very least, it would only be fair to admit that so celebrating someone else's demise is distinctly un-Christlike, whether or not that emulation is one's goal or not.

I'm still pretty obsessed with AMC's The Walking Dead series. A friend lent me the first few sets of the comics several years back, and I've been a fan of the storyline ever since. It's still ridiculously gory, though, and you probably don't want your younger kids reading it.

I got to spend a lovely weekend with Michael in Dallas, doing nothing much other than sleeping in and cooking and watching a few backlogged episodes of TV. We meant to paint the walls, but never got around to it. 

My blog died for a little bit when Xanga erroneously flagged it for policy violation... so glad I got it all back! It's lame, but 10 years of my life is here. I was just about as sad when my AIM screenname died due to me forgetting the password and the reset being sent to another email address I no longer have access to. 

I am grateful it's back!!

I mean, I was so dramatic in the last few posts, I'm out of ideas!

People really like to ask me what's going on with Michael and myself. "So..." they say. "Do you guys have any plans to eventually move to the same city?" 

It's kind of a cute question. You don't typically commit to someone you can't stand to be around, now do you? I smile and answer it in the spirit in which it's meant. The semantics Nazi in me secretly rephrases it to myself 10 times, just like I do all you're grammatical errors (yes, I just mentally retyped that to myself 10 times because it hurts a wee part of my soul to remember). 

I was thinking about that tonight when I drove home from a friend's house. How my weekdays and weeknights suck, just a little bit (sometimes a bit more than a bit), because I'm having a good time but have to count down one more day before Michael comes to town. Or Mondays, when it's not only the start of a new week of routine (fine, so I don't actually hate working; I just like playing more!) but I also don't get to grab dinner with him. And yet we're doing long-distance because we "have" to, sort of. I'm honest enough with myself to know that I wouldn't be happy moving "for" someone at this point in my life, and I haven't been able to find a career opportunity in Dallas that suits me yet. So, for the sake of having a better relationship down the road, we sacrifice a little bit now. 

It's been a while since I really thought about heaven, but the comparison struck me while I was driving. Isn't that what anticipating "things to come" should be like? Shouldn't you first of all be anxious for a point where you're perfectly happy, knowing all the while that you wouldn't currently be able to handle perfect happiness? (Totally incongruous mental image: "YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!!!!" from A Few Good Men) So you sit back and wait to grow enough to appreciate what's to come. In the meantime, though, you don't hold back on pursuing whatever you can of imperfect happiness, because that's not just what's yours to have for now, but what will help train you to appreciate bigger and bigger doses of happiness. 

That's pretty freaking vague and incoherent, but it kind of makes sense in my head. It made me happy to feel like I'm not doing something wrong, for once. You can't hear people innocently question your actions over and over again without eventually questioning yourself. Wondering if you're being selfish to assert your own need, wondering if you're putting your needs above someone else's, wondering if you screwed up something big again. I'm proud that I can stand up for myself and my choices, knowing that not everything I choose is sin by default. (You laugh, but that was me not that long ago! And maybe some of you, too. ;p) I'm humbled, knowing that the responsibility for being selfless rests with me, not with other people's definitions of me. I feel small, yet inspired, knowing that it's my job to work my way on all fronts from "not ready for completion" to "as close to it as I can get." I also appreciate the idea that there's something bigger out there, gently blowing puffs of directional wind on my back, yet leaving the decisions entirely up to me on whether or not I follow those prompts. 

Free will just seems so beautiful, you know. 

It's been a while since I could think straight about God and faith, honestly. I'm one of those doubting-Thomas types that really struggles with abstract concepts. My favorite thing is "understanding." I have to get the whys of something. I imagine I was a horrific toddler in my "WHY, MAMA?" phase. (Come to think of it, that phase never ended) So really, I have a very hard time grasping God because all I see is people. I see people who allegedly transcribed his direct commands, yet somehow got stuck in pre-Babelfish land and were translated in wildly different directions by agenda-oriented leaders. I see people earnestly struggling to find the truth, from flagellating themselves to publicly starving themselves for a month, to taking away everything that brings them joy in this world and demanding others do the same. 

I refuse to believe the meaning of life would be so simply summarized. That getting to heaven would be like going through a strenuous series of interviews for a job you don't honestly know if you want or not. I pretty firmly believe that if faith were the answer, then you would at least *want* it. You wouldn't have to train yourself to want it. You'd have chemistry with it, as it were. Sure, there would be plenty of times you don't want it. Plenty of times you tell it you're done, you're getting a divorce, you're breaking up, walking out, and never looking back. But even in those angriest of moments, when you feel so betrayed you want to burn something to express yourself, you know deep down that things will calm down, and they might not make sense, and you won't be able to completely forget how much it sucked to be misunderstood and maligned, and how unfair life is... but how this journey you share isn't going to end here or now. 

It was a nice thought to zap through my brain while I waited for one of those slow-ass trains to dawdle its way across a railroad crossing. I will be honest and say that I am choosing to further exercise my free will by not immediately running back to all the outward manifestations of faith. I need a break, as it were. (incongruous, irreverent mental picture here) I need a break from all the drama of a bunch of people trying to guess about what comes next. (I could also use a break from Chick-Fil-A discussions, even though I've contributed to one or two simply because I never learned to stay out of fights. I love fights. :D) But - I like knowing that I can see this as a little dip in the road, not just, well, the END of the road. I don't mean that I would ever dictate any religion on "my" terms - there's no point in worshipping myself, now is there? But I do think that, for me to embrace Christianity a certain way, it would have to make sense to me. The major passages cannot be interpreted in a way that allows any contradiction in the basic premise (as in, there might be nothing contradictory in the message itself, but popular denominations or interpretations traditionally twist it another way). If God exists, then he made my brain, and he can figure out a way to get his point through my convoluted mess of gray matter. 

Part of the reason I've been thinking so much of late is because of the past two months' anxiety. I guess I feel a bit like King David, wondering if my kid is going to live or not. (He doesn't. And my job didn't either - our entire division in Austin was given 30 days' notice last week - not a reflection on our performance.) But after a week of mourning (which honestly might have been more over the fact that my lovely vacation with friends had ended), I'm chipper again. Where all my colleagues are in shock, feeling betrayed, have no clue what the next steps are, I feel like I am back to normal. Sure, it sucks. Life has a way of smacking us upside the head in waves, and my summers have been pretty ridiculous for the last two years. 

But it's kind of cool. I've slowly gotten more excited over the last two days because I'm back in the job search game again, and this time I'm better than ever. My resume looks better, my understanding of interview skills and cover letters has grown (although I still sent out a couple with a major date typo, ha), my confidence has learned to either manifest itself or "fake it till I make it", I have learned to dwell less on "I hope" and "I want" and focus on "I will do" and "I will not fret about what I cannot control." And for the first time ever, recruiters are "asking me out". Sure, none of them have gotten past a request for my resume, but that's still infinitely more than I've successfully attracted before. This homeschool geek is hot, yo! 

On a side note, it's been kind of "great" (or interesting, or any other eyebrow-raising-"Hm!" kind of word) watching myself process my emotions with this latest development. I definitely felt like having a big cry last week, but didn't honestly "need" it to function. I somehow absorbed the intensity of the disappointment pretty quickly (meaning it also hit me that much harder/faster), which left me with the empty space to start feeling a slight clinical interest in some new opportunities. And having worked in sales for long enough by now to realize that the only people who succeed are the ones with a very high number of rejections/failures/attempts... I got right into the game, looking up as many job postings as I could. I could have done better - one of my coworkers had two phone interviews lined up the day after we found out (!?!?!?!) - but still, it's an improvement for me. And what's cool is that I've gotten to a point where I now feel comfortable being a little picky. I will apply for - and work hard to earn - jobs that interest me. If they don't interest me now, they won't interest me six months later when I'm knee-deep in a project working frantically into the wee sma's, and the only way for me to be true to myself would be to bail on my commitments. Which is not good. This is a lesson that took me forever to learn - the art of saying "No" - and it's pleasant to be in charge of that decision-making process too. 

Anyway, I'm sure this mature blog post mentality is also cyclical and there will be a freak-out-melt-down soonish. In the meantime, I truck along - waiting with anticipation for Michael to come to town tomorrow evening, looking forward (with as much patience as I can muster) to moving forward on finding some cool new jobs, giving myself some space for silence and a dearth of others' opinions. Because sometimes - when it's late at night, and I'm alone in a car stuck going nowhere - ideas come to mind. 

Edited to add: I'd like to be more like this, maybe. 

Yesterday was a crap day. We've been waiting to find out for six weeks about our jobs. This doesn't mean we're all waiting on offers; we're waiting to hear if our interviews + past 10 months' performance was deemed worthy of getting a year's extension on our work contracts. Instead of getting the news about our news, we were notified that the hiring committee (which goes all the way up to the veryveryvery top) hadn't been able to meet yet to decide our fate. 

I felt like a very small ant in a very big anthill. A very small ant with a lot of very big bills to pay, responsibilities to house and feed, and no idea what direction to take next. A very small ant who very much does not want to go live in another anthill. A very small ant that probably thinks way more than an ant really has any business to think... haha. 

We all moped and griped around for the next few hours. A "damage control" meeting was hastily called for 4:30. During that meeting, one of the directors for our department stood up and said a few things - really, the only things you could really say in that situation. "Wow. Wish there was something we can do, but this decision goes way above our pay grade." However, he had put together a little presentation for us based on his personal life experience. He talked about how, 10 years ago, he had just been asked to move to a new city with a big-name company of the day. He took the relocation, got engaged to his fiancee within three weeks of his move date, and put down an offer on his first home two months after that. 

As he was driving away from signing the papers and heading out to close a $2 million dollar deal three hours away, his boss called. "Did you sign the papers on that house yet? ... Oh no." They'd just gotten some information about impending layoffs. And in the way of Murphy's law, this director ended up being one of the very first let go. 

He did subsequently get a job with a less prestigious company that essentially shaped his career (and of course catapulted him into the role he's in now). And his final few slides were cute/corny, but apropos for the situation: 

- Control the things you can control and let go of the rest. I'm not able to decide whether or not I get hired at this point (and trust me, if sobbing and begging would do the job I would fly up to headquarters right this second :D). I can, however, line up some back-up options; deliberately schedule some rest and relaxation; manage my time better; focus on finding a stable source of energy; look at the bigger picture and choose to be excited about it; and just put one foot in front of the other. 

- Keep a short memory. They keep telling me one thing: Sales is a mind game, just like with sports. It's not even so much a mind game between me and the client, or me and the opponent, as it is a mind game between me, myself and I. And life is a lot like one big sale, or game. The more I doubt myself, the more I shoot myself in the foot. The more I hold grudges or remember past failures, the more my fears overwhelm me. And pretty much, even someone who starts out confident and overqualified can quickly spiral into a self-destructive crash. 

So I'll keep a short memory. I won't let past mistakes form a "pattern of failure" in my head. 

Hey, my last post was super passive-aggressive. The beautiful thing about being vague like that is that I've even forgotten what it was I was so angsty about! So - no need to fret about it any more!!

The past two months have been great. (Really, the 9-10 months have been great but I don't think I have time to recap everything right now) Michael and I went back to Taiwan for a two-week visit, stopping in Shanghai for a few days first. The two things that immediately come to mind are: 

Soup dumplings!

and then baby chicks, which ran around in the lobby of our hotel. ...In a little pen, of course. With bunnies. Because it's how non-religious countries celebrate religious holidays. Duh.

I came here to write a really profound post, but then got distracted trying to figure out why I was being such a whiner two months ago. Clearly, life isn't as bad as all that. 

I think the best thing I learned in the last almost-12 months is to trust myself. They say that people with great beginners' luck don't actually have better stars in the sky or anything like that - they just have a stronger sense of intuition than the rest of us. This sense can't be quantified, and certainly can't be trained too much, and thus often doesn't make it onto scientific or logical radars. But you definitely can overthink delicate situations and end up - not jinxing yourself, but maybe more like... crushing your innate sense of confidence and ability. I don't mean to "trust myself" in the sense that I'm the center of the universe and know best, but more in the sense that once I make a decision and set things in motion, I stick with it and see it through. I don't let other people's insecurities and worries drag me down - I can't. I've learned on the sales floor that morale is a powerful thing. It's hard because many salespeople are very smart people. They strategize and visualize very well, and can often predict or foresee a negative potential outcome. What I learned from trying to use my brain TOO much, though, is that I can actually affect the future through my attitude. If I believe I'm going to have a crappy day or a crappy month, I unconsciously behave in a way that tries to shield myself from frustration or hurt or getting too invested in that day/month/situation. And having seen firsthand how badly that ends up for me, I'm starting to realize... Hey. I have to live this day, or go through this situation, or push through this time to get to the next, better time. So I might as well look for the best in it, knowing that it's not just "the right thing to do" (sadly, this has little pull with me ;p) but that it's also the best way for me to survive. And somehow, a great side benefit is that life seems much sunnier this way.

...Although honestly, I'm not a winter person so it's entirely possible that this attitude shift is genuinely - at least partially - due to sunny weather reflecting into my cold little heart. Haha. Whatever it is, I have a few more months of summer to appreciate being alive and Pollyanna. 

I'm currently waiting some job information. So is Michael. The waiting gets old, but I got tired of fretting about it. So I choose not to, to the best of my ability. And, in the little radius of that "ability"... I'm having an awesome time day-to-day. 

Now to stop being so complacent about my messy room, and to actually let myself stress to the point where I'll clean it... 

^ That might sound like something an over-dramatic teen would say, but some people really and truly aren't capable of sleeping. In addition to well-known issues like insomnia, there's this horrifyingly creepy genetic disorder that causes the prions in people's brains to rearrange themselves, literally causing them to be unable to sleep. Sufferers' brains are unable to refresh and rest up during usual sleep periods, and you eventually end up going insane and dying simply because of lack of sleep.

It sounds rather Edgar Allan Poe, I know, but it's true. I read about it in Newsweek when I was 16 and it has haunted me ever since. (I drop this subtle hint for you to be wowed by the fact that I was so well-read at that age; never mind the fact that I was just hungry for reading material in a language that did not limit me to baby books)

I'm being dramatic because it's the fourth or fifth night in a row I haven't been able to sleep because of this awful, dry, hacking cough that's the combined result of allergies (to what, I don't know) and the Ridiculously Dry Air produced by heaters. I am grateful for central heating - we didn't have any in Taiwan, which was wet and rainy about 92% of the wintertime - but since I grew up in a sub-tropical region, all this dry air just doesn't sit well with me. I adore my big bedroom, but have come to realize its size is a drawback because the humidifier my brother lent me doesn't make a dent in the powdered-dust feel of the air. I have actually resorted to sleeping on my cold bathroom floor once or twice, just for the sake of the relief afforded by steam from my hot running shower beside me. I know, the picture of pity. It sucks because then I can't work and function right the next morning, and I freak out stressing out over how tired and distracted I will feel. I'm just a lovely person like that. 

Let's see... I feel like my life is very mundane right now. I haven't used my brain in a long time... whether to solve the world's problems or to better understand myself, either way. That being said, I do miss blogging. I am a better, more balanced person when I journal, if only because all of my thoughts are in one place. I really loved the concept of a Pensieve (Harry Potter) - how cool to be able to physically "pull" your memories and store them somewhere or maybe share them. So I thought I'd brain-dump some random thoughts from yesterday. 

Valentine's Day. I didn't realize it was so worthy of being inquired after (although I probably should have). I found it amusing that many well-intentioned people asked me how my Valentine's went, and looked pityingly at me when I mentioned Michael didn't live in town/no, we didn't do anything/no, I didn't want to do anything. I mean, I wasn't lying? Believe you me, I like to be loved and made much of in my own way - I just don't like to share that day with many other people for comparison purposes, ha. I am not a particularly noble-minded female... maybe just one without much use for ruffles and roses. 

Since the typical chocolate-and-flowers trick doesn't seem to do it for me, I thought I'd document a few ways I do enjoy the company of my fellow human beings:

1) I'm passionate about stories. Some people need metrics and statistics to prove that something will work for them - I'm big on anecdotes and "testimonies." Saying the divorce rate has historically been under X percent until the last 50 years does nothing for me. Hearing one or two stories about a couple who made it to 70 years against all odds, on the other hand, makes me so hopeful for the future that I want to sign up and say "I do" right then and there. (The story must not be corny, though... or overrated... or commercialized into a movie... Channing Tatum, you know what you did)

1a) and on that note, communication is huge for me. As a girl and as a wedding vendor, I am thoroughly up to date on all the successful, corny, public, and sometimes not-so-successful wedding proposal ideas around. Most make me go like Gru's mom from Despicable Me: 

(In a nutshell, "Eh!") It's not that I am cynical or jaded about love - some really do make me smile and tear up a little bit. However, I think our culture is so much of a meme/YouTube/Pinterest society now that we're always looking for inspiration from ideas previously executed. There's always been a healthy, and even a worthy category of respect reserved for successful covers and remakes, but I don't think any couple's love story should fall in that bucket. 

I've heard a couple of people mention a private blog or book that they created for their fiancees, though - where they kept a running log, or maybe a record of private "love" moments, that they wanted to share as a collective account later on. Personally, I'd take a private blog of my significant other's, or friend's, thoughts over a diamond ring of any size any day. They don't even have to be about me, or our future, or anything like that. I'm just petrified of spending time with shallow people (shallow of me, I know) because I don't like being bored. Knowing and understanding how someone else thinks is really special to me, because it helps me understand how best to respond to them and love them in return. 

Which brings me to: 

2) Understanding and being understood is really important to me. There's a popular book that describes "Five Love Languages" - five main categories of ways in which most people enjoy being cared for. "Being understood" kind of falls in the Venn diagram overlap of "quality time", "acts of service", and maybe "words of affirmation", I think, but it honestly isn't a good fit for any of those so I've chosen to pull it out and make it my own personal standard of care. I think there's a huge difference between "understanding" and "agreeing" - for instance, a mom could understand her kid's desire to eat three cookies before dinnertime but not agree that it's a good idea. BUT it does make it so much easier to connect with said kid, right, if you can show him/her that you really do get why their idea is appealing? It always worked best for me, anyway. It is so important for me to understand people, in fact, that I don't even feel loved on almost any other front (whether with gifts, quality time, acts of service, physical touch, or words of affirmation) if someone can't get what I am trying to say. It makes me second-guess my ability to speak logically, but even more so, it makes me feel like my thoughts and emotions aren't valid. Of course, then I become an unhinged wreck of destruction and make a mess of the situation. :P 

But yeah - I think it's hard for me to form close friendships because most people come into situations with a pre-conceived notion of right or wrong. If I say or think something that contradicts their belief system (even if it's a good challenge), and they react negatively just from a knee-jerk reaction, I instantly shut down inside. Oh, I can still carry on small talk like nobody else's business, but I can always tell when my mental friend meter has just slammed shut the garage door and said "NOPE, not leavin' home today!"

3) I hesitate to mention gifts, because they're a tricky subject. I like gifts, but I don't just like things. I don't care for things that I don't want, and that you just had sitting around in your "gift stash" (but I won't diss you too much because I totally have a gift stash of my own). I don't care about handmade simply for the sake of handmade - I like things that I would actually use or that were specifically made for me with one of my needs in mind (i.e. buying me something on Etsy because I like craftsy things is nice, but I would rather you made me something you thought I'd want, even with errors and flaws). But sometimes people manage to pull together these perfect, personalized packages of love - maybe even just a fancy piece of artwork scribbled on homework paper - that totally disarm me. I don't even have to receive a tangible item in order to feel loved - I just want someone to be able to say, "I put time and effort into finding this for you. To the best of my understanding, this is what I think you could most use." 

(Funny story: I asked for printed band-aids for my third birthday (my dad passed along the info to the parents of my friends who were coming to the party). If someone had just asked me why I wanted them so much, I'm sure I would've saved a lot of people lots of money on all those expensive toys they bought me instead. I don't even remember what all I got, but obviously those $40 Barbies weren't as memorable as their $2.19 plastic boo-boo-taping counterparts)

Case in point: My youngest two brothers apparently spent many hours consulting with my mom via email about what to buy me for my birthday this year. They both apologized to me for not having a good idea what to get, but that honestly melted me more than any actual thing would have. 

4) I feel loved by a challenge. I know I am a supremely bossy person who has never been wrong before in my life. (Srsly) But nothing makes me respect and want a person more than when they call me out on something I thoughtlessly said, or didn't fully research, and am spouting off as gospel truth just because I can get away with it. I don't know if it's just that I'm big on keeping face or something like that, but I am really anxious to always improve myself. I recognize that I have blind spots, and I feel like it takes a real friend to call me out on those in a straightforward manner. (Heck, it was the #1 trait Michael had going for him!) It's especially important because life is so easy right now. People have traditionally found companionship in facing struggles together - however, our first-world-problems of not knowing where to invest our money for the best returns, or fighting over where to go on vacation, or fretting because we didn't get chocolates and a fancy date night on Valentine's - have pitted people against each other instead of pulling them closer together. I know I'm much less tolerable in close quarters, so I really appreciate someone who calls me on my BS. It makes me feel like they're correcting me because they know we're together for the long haul, and I won't be tolerable for the next 50 years if I don't shape up. Of course, if I disagree, I get to engage in the next thing I enjoy, which is 

5) fighting. I'm sure not everyone likes this, but I am a big proponent of fighting. I don't fight with anyone I don't give a damn about (unless it's over an issue I care about). It's my way of showing that I care and I think this relationship will last in the long haul. The people I don't fight with should be concerned because I will politely drop them at some point or another (or maybe they will drop me, who knows).

Man, I am just as long-winded (and vague) as I ever was. 10 years of blogging hasn't done me any good. So, as a quick summary, Kat likes people who:

1) Have a story to tell. 

2) Choose to share the back story and thought process with her, and to understand her story and thoughts in return.

3) Bonus points for gifting her items that creatively illustrate their understanding of what makes her tick.

4) Understand her well enough to know she wants you to call her out when she's wrong.

5) Don't take it personally when she puts up a fight about it. Either she'll admit she was wrong, or else she will bring you around to her point of view. OR maybe you could call a truce, but the chances of that are slim.

Oh the Lord, our strength and song, highest praise to him belongs
Christ the Lord, the Conquering King, Your Name we raise, Your triumphs sing

Praise the Lord, our Mighty Warrior
Praise the Lord, the Glorious One
By his hand we stand in victory,
By his Name we overcome

Though the storms of hell pursue, In darkest night we worship You
You divide the raging sea, From death to life You safely lead

All the saints and angels bow, Hosts of heaven crying out
Glory Glory to the King, You reign for all eternity

The Lord shall reign forever and ever
The Lord shall reign forever and ever

(I heard this song on Sunday at church, during the 15 minutes or so that I spent in the actual service. It was the first time I'd been to church in months - not because of any real reason other than chronic fatigue and a vague sense of not belonging. I don't know if anyone else feels this way, but I would like it a lot if church consisted of 3-hour worship services and nothing else. No preaching, no personal application, no need to get into small groups and shareeeeee about myself to people whose religious fervor prevents them from listening to my real state of mind)

I'll be honest. I'm not OK with the way I grew up, with the "faith" I've seen so many exhibit. I spoke with someone today who was all excited about the power of the Lord. He was convinced that God could overcome anything. I politely pointed out to him that, to some people who grow up the way I do and who have seen worse misinterpretation than I have, faith and God are the last things they turn to in hard times. 

It reminds me of interning at IJM. Our leaders constantly pointed out that, in America, we turn to the police for solace and rescue when we are being mugged, abused, and otherwise having our rights stripped from us. But for many people in other parts of the world, they actively flee the police because they are the oppressors. 

I realize that a lot of the things in my background still hurt - a lot. I acknowledge that there are certain trigger words, phrases and attitudes that make me prickle up like my pet hedgehog. I hope someday I can reach a place where I no longer fear or dread the pain I and others have endured at the hands of those who claim to be doing so on God's behalf.

I don't have a lot more to say tonight. It's been a rough week, and I'm still struggling to understand the "why" behind everything. I don't have a lot of tolerance for spiritual abuse, yet I've been on the perpetrator end myself and I can only ask for mercy on that front. 

Man, these people who never bother to think about deeper issues are so fortunate. I imagine they get a lot more sleep than I do. :P 

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I really miss the me that got to travel around to random places, had no compulsion whatsoever about couch-surfing (although I owe all of you nice hosts gifts now that I have money to my name), and could squander away my time. 

Instead, I am currently living in suburban America (not quite even), raising two boys (although that's barely true), tied down to commitment on all fronts (although I mostly like it). Oh, freedom, I long for thee. 

I sure do miss blogging. I feel very frazzled and disorganized without a tidy place to put my thoughts. 

But I definitely want to remember yesterday, so here goes: 

Michael stayed an extra day in order to celebrate my birthday with me. I couldn't take the day off because it was the end of the month, but I picked him up afterward so we could hit up Uchiko. I've wanted to take Michael on an omakase (chef's tasting) experience ever since I was treated to one earlier this month. I have to say, I have never before in my life considered a $200+ dining experience "worthwhile" (I almost always prefer items/purchases over experiences/food)... but seriously, at the Uchi/Uchiko chain it is one of those things you save up for. (I've gotta wait a while again) Anyway, I wanted to treat him to the same experience but he won the argument because it was my birthday. 

We kicked off the night with a readily available seat directly under the chalkboard. Michael noticed a sign that said "pickled hedgehog" and got really sad because he didn't want anyone eating his pet's cousins. While he went off to wash his hands, I flagged a waiter and inquired about the hedgehog situation. Turns out, they're pickled hedgehog MUSHROOMS. :))) 

We had a good laugh about that. (P.S. on an unrelated note, watching our hedgehog eat mealworms is hilarious)

The food was amazing. I should show my terribly-colored iPhone photos sometime. Suffice it to say that Michael got goosebumps from the taste alone. 

I texted Olivia halfway through the meal because Olivia is the most intense foodie I know. I don't mean this in the sense that she likes to nom nom on nibbles, no. I mean she regularly saves her pennies for her chef's tastings and plans her travels around the renowned restaurants in the area. (I, on the other hand, like to totally wing my trips and wander about looking for artsy-fartsy things to photograph). 

Coming back to the part about texting Olivia... the sneaky monster then calls the restaurant and pays our tab before we finish. True story, the general manager tracked us down and asked if we were Katherine and Michael. Then he cryptically disappeared again after knowingly wiggling his eyebrows. Neither Michael nor I are great at handling secrets and surprises so we promptly set off guessing whodoneit. (I was right, immediately)

My sneaky best friend also wrote a really, really sweet note to me. It's totally blown out of proportion, but I would say it's one of my favorite things from this weekend and definitely a warm fuzzymaker because she hates being and saying sappy things in a public forum. (To pay her back, I'm linking it here :D) The note was even more warmfuzzymaking than a totally spoiled dining experience. 

My brothers all tried to come up with nice presents to get me as well. Intent is about 95% everything to me ;) so honestly, aww. I feel very loved. 

And my parents got me an Anthropologie gift card. I guess my mom watched me shop one too many times over the Thanksgiving/Christmas holidays. That was very nice too.

Here's to 2012... where I usually begin tracking a new year, anyway. One of my first resolutions is to get back into whatever habits and routines help keep me sane.