(Most of this applies to morning rushes, but may apply other times as well.)

When there is a line out the door, you, the customer is annoyed. I understand this completely. You have to wait longer for that precious cup of coffee, really I do. We behind the counter are trying our hardest to get everyone rung up and drink right as quickly as possible. Once you have reached the counter, please do not stand there and then begin your pondering on what drink you will be having. You’ve had however long you stood in line to make up your mind. Unless your wondering the differences between mild and bold coffee, please get in back of the line. If you have an issue with how we have named our cup sizes, may I take this moment to remind you that you walked into Starbucks. I didn’t force you to come in here and order a tall which you believe is the biggest cup where as actually the venti is. Don’t spell the word small when I repeat back to you tall. I understand what you want, I only repeat back for clarifying I have corrected marked your drink. I’m here to assure your coffee experienceis a good one.

Now, if you are thinking that you don’t apply to the dilly dolly at the register wondering what would make your day brighter, a mocha or a white mocha, then congrats, you’ve moved onto the waiting for your drink part of the Starbucks experience. Now, I know what you want to do.You want to run right over to the “bar” or sometimes called “hand off counter”. Some of you are gonna want to reach your hands over that bar and get a sleeve or a straw. Please, this is my side and that is your side and we don’t need any crossing of the lines, that could get dirty. But whatever you do, please don’t take a step back and watch me making sure your drink is perfect. I’m sorry, who is the barista here? Don’t stare at me, it only makes me nervous which is more than likely gonna make me screw up your drink rather than hurry along with it. Also, for the love and all that is holy do not lean on the bar! Not only do I not like you watching me in this fashion, other customers can not get to their drink. We have some lovely tables for you to sit at, please do so and we shall call your drink shortly. Again, this is not the place for you is because that’s were I put other customer’s drinks. So, you are blocking them to get to their drink which starts to create a pile up on my bar which only confuses which drink is the actually drink I just called out. This does happen fairly often, a lot of drinks at the bar, and yeah they all are white so the confusion is again, understandable. But please do not grab one you may *think* is yours. We usually ask for your name, this is a clue to which drink is yours. We don’t expect you to understand all the letters and markings on the side of the cup but they really are quite simple. The little boxes are labeled, we mark according to those boxes. M is for mocha. L is for latte. So if you ordered a latte and the cup has a M on it, that is not yours. If you order a triple shot, there will be a 3 in the shot box. But again, your name is the key to your cup grabbing experience.

While you are here at Starbucks, I have a few requests for our lobby area. Our trash cans are all the same. One is in the condiment bar, and the others are big round black tins. They look all the same, so there’s no need for you confuse it with the small bucket which is labeled grounds for your garden. Thank you for your thoughtfulness on your dirty used cup for someone else garden, but they don’t really want plastic or paper for that matter in their soil. Also, I’m sorry if were busy and haven’t gotten to one of the trash cans to empty it for a while, but lining your cups around it when its already over floating isn’t real encouraging. There’s usually other trash cans about three steps away for your throwing away pleasure from that already full trash can. If your just a plain coffee drinker and need to add some cream, milk or sugar to spice it up a little we have this great condiment bar for you. Its full of all your coffee fixing’s dreams. If you spill some, that’s okay, no biggie, we all do it. We have some lovely napkins right there that the customer right after you will appreciate if you clean up your mess. But, if your too busy, which we all are. we hope to make it out there sooner rather than later to clean up that spill. That goes for the powder and sugar packs too. Oh and if you empty the half-n-half and milks, wed be glad to get you another. Just so you know, we here at the bar who your shaking that empty can at, are busy with espresso drinks. That doesn’t mean we aren’t trying to tend to your need, we just don’t have it right here in our pocket. Its at the other end of the behind the counter area which is why we yelled “need a half-and-half on the bar.”

Thank you so much for taking the time to come by and get coffee from Starbucks. We hope you are as patience with someone else who doesn’t know what they’re doing today as we have been for you. Don’t worry, we are here to help you in the “I don’t know Starbuck lingo” problem. Just don’t be upset at the lone barista who doesn’t know you don’t know better. We do assume you know something about coffee until you tell us otherwise. So please don’t get upset, you did afterall walk into the store. Or did I miss the part where we pulled you in off the street by the arm? Enjoy your coffee!

Disclaimer: I do love my job most of the time and have wonderful wonderful customers I enjoy seeing everyday I work. But Ive worked very long, short handed shifts over the past week and its been busy. I hope this all came across as humorous venting and not a flat our complaining because that’s not at all what I’m trying to do.

Happy Easter

Years ago the only holiday I was waking up for this early was one that rolled around the last week of December. I had a very important tree that awaited for me on that day. Well, the tree was just the meeting place I guess you could say. It was okay to wake up the rest of the family at the early hour, that every year grew later and later as my brother and I gained knowledge of the value of sleep. But this morning my church as they do every year had a sunrise service and last night I was planning on going to it. This was despite the fact Ive had to work early the past week and haven’t made up for that lost sleep yet. So when I was awaken by a very thoughtful dream at 4am I moved my alarm time form 5:30am to 9:30am as to go our 11am service instead of 6:30am. I thought, Ive been to the beach at 6 in the morning before, its okay if I hear the message later. Well, I think God had other plans because right at 5:30am my cats would not leave me alone. Usually I can throw a pillow at them and they get the hint. Not this morning, and isn’t it odd that it was just at the time I needed to get up? As Katie would say “Is that odd or is that God?”

So I made my way down to Starbucks, kind of pushing for time, but there was no way I was going to stay awake let alone focused if I didn’t have some sort of jump start. My coworkers wondered what had me up this early and why I came in on a short staffed day. I took my coffee (black) and muffin and drove over to the church. I realized I didn’t get up for anyone other than myself and whatever power woke me up. Weather God or the kitties. I didn’t know who I might see, I didn’t even know who I would sit with. I thought that was something because I don’t let to go to places where there’s a big group and sit alone. I feel much more alone than in an empty house. Riding on the shuttle from the church over to the beach I sipped my coffee and thought about Easter. Bobby had shared at Jr. High the night before about it being the day of hopeless. I connected the most with that short word he had on his heart. That’s real Christianity right there. Those followers of Jesus, saw Him on the cross and wondered “Is anything He shared with us true? He’s dying. How can he claim to be the Christ if He’s dying?” Once he was buried, what then? Those three days must of been the longest day of their walk of faith. Doubting all that day what they had come to believe so deeply. Their savior has died, what hope was there to have? It was a comfort to know that the men closest to Jesus when He walked this earth had that day.

Walking up the sandy hill to where a sea of thousands from my church gathered, I wonder who I would see. Would anyone welcome me to sit with them? I didn’t know the answer and that scared me. I loved seeing thousands of members of my church in once place. Over the weekend our church has 5 services with hundreds in each due to our too small of building. Its rare time to ever have this many of us in one place. I walk over to an old friend whom I haven’t seen more than once since returning to California and walked up to say hi. After doing so I realized that our new Jr. High pastor was standing with him and a fellow Jr. High staff worker. Brian (our Jr. High pastor) and I chatted a bit about how he had never been to a sunrise service before. He didn’t think to bring something to sit on and I offered to share my towel with him as it soften the rocky spot we sat because we hadn’t been up early enough to grab a soft sandy seat. Our friends and fellow Jr. High leaders, Bobby and Jenna, joined us on our spot in the back (which later turned into more of the mid-back when other filled in behind us). A lot more Jr. Highers came by and said “hi” to us than I expect to be there at 6:30 in the morning. A few of them sat with us, sharing the towel and part of Jenna’s blanket. At that time I felt a since of community with the people who felt close to me and again realized how I hadn’t asked for any of these needs I had secretly held to be met but were.

God is a God of details, big and small. A lot of times I see in Christian lives we fail to forget this, especially in the small details of our lives. God knew fear of being alone after a rough night last night and just needing to feel a sense of family on Easter Day. I never prayed for Him to give this to me, but He did anyway. Brian is new to the church and few outside of the Jr. High circle know who he is, so I welcomed him with my towel so he felt a sense of belonging. I thought of Jesus feeding the 5,000 (even though there weren’t 5,000 of us, there were at least a couple thousand there) and how it painted a visual picture of it this morning. Our pastor, Mark, talked about the importance of having women accounting for Jesus being alive on Easter morning in the bible. How women’s thoughts were not creditable in that day in age. He explained that the different gospels retelling of the story being different in the same way everyone has a different remembrance of say a car accident. “Oh it was a 4 car pile up.” As another would say “It was a 6 car pile up!” Same incident just different point of views. They let doves go at the end of the service who circled above the crowd. I don’t expect any holiday we celebrate as Christians to be this big moving sermon at all. In fact, I probably was more moved at Bobby’s short 5 minute talk than the half hour one I heard this morning.

More and more I find myself wanting to be closer to real Christians. I find it really dishearting when over and over again are fake with me. When the common question of “how are you?” is asked they give the fake smile slapped across their face because they are a Christian, they are always happy outwardly and say “Great! How are you?!”. Later only finding out they are going through a really hard time. Now, I wouldn’t share my hard times with just anyone, fellow believer or not. But, those who I am in a close community with, I like the fact they are real with me. I’m glad for the fact our high school pastor sat in our youth group last night venting about the thought of having to wear a tie when the rest of the year our church didn’t. He didn’t speak badly of anyone or wasn’t going to do what he was told by someone. He just vented about why on earth why the church leaders where doing it. That’s probably a poor way of saying it, but being real is something different to everyone else I suppose too. Real life happens to Christians. Real life isn’t a walk in the park like a lot of outsiders like to believe. I struggle with belief, but also know God has never once left me. He may feel like a silence to me at times, but I doubt He’s ever left me. He always right there, just in the details of our lives its harder sometimes to hear Him. That’s the reality of real sin too. Having a safety net of it built up around us, only to sadly realize we had walked ourselves down to a dark valley where it is not safe at all.

My thoughts are kind of all over the place this morning. Probably because they have been gathering over this past week and I have just now let them go in this fashion (and lack of sleep). Some sorted, some not so sorted. But, isn’t that how it always is? Well with me a lot of times it is. I cant claim to being a Christian whose got it all together at all. If I am truthfully honest, its not easy most of the time. Frankly, I don’t read my bible everyday, which as a constant reader may surprise some. I don’t have deep Christian thoughts a lot of times or even speak the nicest way I could to one of the kids. Despite of me, in the details of my life I know every inch of it is covered by grace. The grace that is smothered all over the gospel that was shared on that beach this morning. How I am ever thankful for a God of details who know mine so much deeper than I do.

Ive been having a bit of car troubles over the past 24 hours. I absolutely hate anything car related, really I do. I don’t like pumping my gas. I usually get to where I know if I don’t find a gas station my car will not run anymore. I realize that’s not good for the car, I just hate doing it. Along with the very rapid price increase of gas prices, I feel I have every right to be. Two things make getting gas more enjoyable to me. One: if they have the clasp that allows me to not have to stand at my pump holding the gas into my car. This is where second thing comes in. If it does have a clasp, I am free to move about the gas station. Usually I take this time to empty trash form my car and wash the windshield. Fewer and fewer gas stations are offering a bucket full of soapy water and a squeegee these days. I don’t understand why, I mean, is it really putting them out?

So the trouble Ive been having is that when starting my car, it stalls basically. And its not a stick (ha, me and a stick). Its a bit disconcerning, especially since the first time it happened was yesterday at the Honda dealership (my mom and I were buying a replacement antenna which we fixed ourselves! Well kinda, that’s another story. Lets just say, its in and I get the radio). I wasn’t about to let those guys take anymore of my money to repair my car. Dealerships are not my friends. We let Hope (my car) rest and them my mom tells me to push my foot on the gas while the car was off then let go. Then we start it, and she works. Well, Hope pulled this very same stunt everytime Ive tired to turn her on ever since. She will be going to the nearest Jiffy Lube today after work.

I am very very much not looking forward to this adventure. Of course because it has to do with a car and its going to smell like gross car smells. Probably somehow someway (because it always happens) I will get that smell stuck to me or something greasy black will show up on my hand. I will bring a couple of books and some knitting to pass the time. I’m not quite sure where my nearest one is, but it might be in walking distance to a Starbucks, which is always good. I can forget the evil ways of cars and be safe in my coffee haven. During this whole car trouble issues my mom asked if Jason knew this about me. And I did assure her is aware of my expectation of the man of my dreams to fill my gas tank up once a week and to deal with the car stuff. I will do just about anything (just) to get me off of car duty. I would like someone to make a car that doesn’t need maintenance, that would be just so fantastic I wouldn’t know what to say.

You’re a Cappicinno!

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While living in Alabama Carla and I have a what you could call, quant kitchen. It small but did its job. Counter space became an issue quickly with are huge microwave (it was cheap and worked well, no complains from us!) and Monica (the coffee maker) a later addition Chandler (the espresso machine) and of course our personal cute touches (a kinda scary picture of us with Moses in face masks and some candles). We dreamed of decorating our future homes someday in that kitchen (well, I know I did at least) and I always thought a coffee theme kitchen would be a lot of fun. Not cheesy coffee cups everywhere, but a nice coffee shop type feel, with shades of browns and creams. Ive seen pieces I want to buy and store till I get to have a place of my own to decorate. But Ive made the rule (for the respect of not taking up my whole parents garage of my storage stuff) of only if I really think I couldn’t find it again or if just a really really good deal that I cant pass up. So far, I only have two things which I actually keep in my room, so all is well in that department.

Well, all was well till my mom and I visited a store called Sur la Table (its french, as Jason reminds me of how to say it everytime I tell him about but to me it still reads “Sir La Table” not however the french say it) and that’s when I fell in love with the famous red dishes. I didn’t know what they were or where they had come from but I held a plate in my hands and just adored the deep red that my eyes feel upon. That was it, I had to have them for my kitchen. But wait, my coffee kitchen with red dishes? How could this be? Would they go? I showed my mom find and asked her the question that nagged inside. Would these two loves of mine really work, I was doubting my scene of correlation. She said yes, they would bring a nice touch of color to a brown tone kitchen. And that’s how Ive come to make Waechtersbach’s line of dishes my “red dishes” as call them everytime I’m at a store that carries them “I going to go visit my dishes.”

Last week when visiting with Polly I peered into her kitchen cupboards and saw red gleaming from the corner of my eye. I opened it up all the way and pulled out a dish (squared even) and turn it over to look for the Waechtersbach’s logo imposed on the bottom. There is was and all its glory. Then I realized, Polly and I had never shared this love for red dishes. When she got married she registered for a lot of cobalt blue and white items and Pier One. That was in their studio apartment, but I guess now they live in a house, red dishes are for them. I told her about my love for the red dishes that graced her shelf’s and she said “I got them for like two bucks at Ross.” My eyes lit up with delight. If you don’t know what Ross is, its like a TJ Maxx or if you don’t have that, its like a really really cheap Wal-Mart, but with designer items. Waechtersbach’s dishes go for at least 8-12 bucks a plate, depending on the size, etc. So 2 bucks was most definitely a deal. Actually, it was a steal. I made my journey over to Ross as soon as I could to seek the treasure.

I found a mug, a bowl and a big plate once I arrived. I got way to giggly. After having all three items in my hands, I realized that the mug and the bowl were chipped. Oh but I didn’t want to put them back for only around two dollars each. But then I remember the whole storing issue and sadly, put them back. Another item Ross had was these plates that looked in certain light just like mine. But if you turned them over there was “Made in Spain” marked on them. I want German plates, not Spain. As much as I wanted to take the mug home just to have on my desk as a pencil holder, I decided against it. It would be almost sadder to have chipped dishes than none at all. Also, it made the red plate all that more special. I came home with my red plate and showed my mom. She actually sold me on the idea of these dishes being that “I could always replace ones that brake” if I used them as my main dishes.

Apparently, my grandma, who loves finding a good deal heard about my Ross find. She’s a frequent shopper at Ross, especially on Tuesdays when she gets her extra 10%. This is one thing I don’t understand about my Grandma. She lived through the tail end of the depression. I remember when I was little not finishing my plate and my Grandma would think it was a waste and eat it. The other night when we had dinner out, she wanted to doggie bag the other table’s food. She doesn’t like to be wasteful. But if something is on sale, whether she needs it or not, she buys it. Her apartment is full of good deals she just had to have. When finding out my dishes were at Ross, she took it upon herself to look for them for me. Sadly, she mistaken them for ones that read “Made in Spain”. I felt so bad to tell her they weren’t the right ones because they looked so close in color. Despite the failed attempt, she said shed keep her eyes out for my dishes just the same. It was quite sweet. So, until then I will have on lone dish… standing tall, waving boldly in the corrupt sands of commerce. And my dish answers “I am a lone reed.”

At last, I own my very own Mary Janes by Doc Martins. This is what I treated myself to for my tax return (rest putting into savings). My mom made the comment that someone who at a large foot (say size 12 or somethin’) probably wouldnt want these shoes. They arnt danty by any means, but Im not going to be signing up for the army in them ether. Im just gonna be cute.

Jason has a CD that he made with his band Songs of Water . Its an instrumental record, so there are no words which rather bothered me at first to be perfectly honest. But over time it has grown on me and I enjoy it quite a lot. I was listening to it on my drive home from a rather long day today. A sense of bittersweetness came over me as the first track played. It took me back to the feelings that I had the first time I heard the song, which is the first day Jason and I met while driving around the streets of Charlotte, North Carolina. It made me miss him very much but also was a sweet moment because the new car smell feel doesn’t happen every day in a comfortable relationship like ours.

If you know me at all, you know music has that kind of effect on me. Ive mentioned before that when Jason and I first started dating we had a “heated discussion” about him thinking rather poorly of my music. I hold a lot of deep sentimental feelings to songs more so that the quality of the actually music. Like today, Carla left me a message saying she had heard the song “Complicated” by Avril Lavigne on the radio and it reminded her of when I tired to make her sing it on our drive from Jackson, Mississippi. I remember this time too, but the was a reason to why I was making her sing. For some random reason when that song was fleshly a radio hit, I called Sarah and left a message of me singing along (read: squeaking) to the radio. Ever since, when ether of us hear it on the radio, we call each other and sing. Its not a great song, its just fun and always holds that great memory for me.

I love the way God made our minds to work like this. I know for me, sound and scenes are the two things that connect memories in my mind. Which is quite common, but usually scent is the stronger of the two. But forgotten feelings tend to rise at the sound of familiar notes to a old song than say the smell of something. “Love Is Different” by Derek Webb reminds me of the time period right after the ending of my longest relationship. “Shiny Shoes” by Sandra McCracken reminds me of a broken friendship I wish I still had. “Somewhere Only We Know” by Keane reminds me of Jason being in California. “Awakening” by Sara Groves reminds me of when a coworker of mine at GSH just left and the struggle I had with it. “Hard to Get” by Rich Mullins (sang by Tara Leigh Cobble ) reminds me of my walk a lot of times. And the list goes on and on. Hard feelings or sweet ones, music can shake me to at least ponder on feelings I didnt realize I had camping out in my heart. Wheather the root of the song was meant for the glory of God, it usually starts a conversation with me and Him which I am ever greatful for.

As I mentioned I spend Friday with my friend Polly. Our big plans was to knit and watch Gilmore Girls as long as possible. Thrilling plans, I agree. There’s a little hole in the wall place down south were she lives called Pipes Cafe that has the biggest and best breakfast burritos around. Its been ages and ages since I had eaten there and so we had our brunch there. After stuffing our selves with yummy food and not too bad coffee we headed over to a cute yarn store called “Common Threads” (told you it was cute). We bought some great yarn to make some fanatic scarves.

Literality, we set up camp in her bedroom where we could prop up lots of pillows, room to spread out with our yarn and veg on season two of Gilmore Girls. Midway through our day we both felt the need for a Starbucks run. Polly also had the great idea of salsa and chips to go with. We got our coffee then onto 7-11 for our chips. This is where I learned what married life has done to my friend. In good moderation, Polly has cussed before, probably about the same as I. Usually in context and with just us two. We don’t take offence to it nor is it every other word in conversation. Its merely for effect most of the time. So when she used it, I wasn’t shocked or anything, but she dropped every word cept the f one in our time period in the car. Even then I didn’t think much of it, just it was funny how much she was using it.

Later that afternoon Jeremy, Polly’s hubby came home and whined that we were watching Gilmore Girls. He sits down and watches it with us realizing we are not letting him take over and watch Simpson’s. Not 5 minutes into it, a scene with the grandparents he calls Emily a b word. I look over and him and said “its okay Jeremy, its a show.” Polly says “He gets really into them.” No joke, the rest of the time we watch, Jeremy had a cuss word for anything that went down on that show. I realized, this is what marriage has done to my friends. They’ve turned into potty mouths. Jeremy was really disappointed when I had to leave and take the DVDs with me. He said “But I have to know what happens!” Ah yes, we’ve sucked yet another soul in.

On my ever on going search for some jeans that may fit me just right I made the bad decision of wearing my jeans that arent freshly washed. You girls know what I mean. They arent too tight straight from the washer and not too baggy. So when trying on jeans that arent fit to your body and just a little too tight, makes it very hard to know if these are the ones for me. I was about ready to buy two sizes more than I normally wear just to have something I know would be comfortable. Who cares if they practically fell off me, they work.

Somehow, in the pile of jeans I carted to the dressing room, a low rise jeans made it. Why on earth do we have such a thing as low rise? Dang Brittany Spears showing off way too much of her hips and butt crack and for some reason the rest of the country thinking “that would look great on me!” It does not look great. Even if you dont have flab, those jeans give you flab. Flab that hangs over those jeans and ew. Not cute, ew.

I have moved from respectable size to another respectable size over this past year. And really, Im in between sizes, which is worse. Its kinda like with me with shoes. I can be anywhere from a 5 1/2 to a 6 1/2. Thats a whole size, but it just depends on the brand. So, the pair of jeans I have on right now, from GAP, smaller size than the ones I tired on at Target and those where too small. What is that? Why cant all creators of jeans get together and make a standard size! I wont even get into the whole when GAP was making American women feel better about themselves by make the pant sizes smaller in number but the actually jean material stayed the same.

Onto the next problem I have, if the jeans actually fit up at the waist, they are too baggy at the bottom. Or when they fit great at the bottom I cant get the zipper up! Oh wait, that was just with one of the jeans I tired on today. It got stuck midway and I freaked out. I couldnt get out! These are so not the jeans for me. What if I have to pee, like about to exploded pee, and I cant get out of my pants. Then there goes a perfectly good pair of pants. As a regular coffee drinker, the ease of a zipper is quite important.

I wish this story ends with a happy ending but it does not. I have no new jeans. Someday, in a far of land, I will get my jeans. But unto till then, I will dread jean shopping.

This past week of adventures was a bit brighter than last week. Strangely enough, I didnt share my church experience sooner than now. When I sat down and saw this author’s name on the overhead screen I was truely hoping it was a quiesced that the guest speaker had the same name. But when he walked on stage being introduced as the very man who wrote that little purple book that swept the nation a few years back I was just about ready to walk out. Not that I think this man is bad by any means, I just dont care to listen to much of what he has to say. So there I sat with the most of an open mind as I could give him, really did and I still didnt like what I heard. Of all the great speakers out there, my church goes and gets him. Mind you, his missions organization is a great one, and he was gathering people to help him. Even I didnt agree with his method of doing this (playing on peoples emotions is powerful but not the most productive way at time) had me shaking my head. I was grateful to be treated to In-N-Out after having to sit through that.

I had been meaning to go to a little yard store about 20 minutes south of me all weekend but never made it. So, when my friend who lives down there called to see if I wanted to run errands with her (like the old days) we added that onto our list. Sadly, the one and only day they are closed is Monday! We made plans for tomorrow of heading to the yarn store first thing, buying some goods and getting some brunch (we are meeting at 10am. Too late for breakfast). Over knitting and munching we shall be watching some Gilmore Girls on DVD before I have to return them (sadly) this weekend. Im quite looking forward to it. Hanging out with her again was so refreshing, just what I needed to get me out of my slump from last week emotional rollercoaster.

Yesterday I took a fun field trip with Lars (high school pastor), Bobby and Jenna (old Jr. High interns) and Brian (our new Jr. High pastor) down to IKEA in San Diego. Both the Jr. High and High school rooms are in the process of being revamped decor wise. I told Brian Id be glad to help him and that I didnt trust him coming back with everything in very manly colors. I talked him into a very neat, almost flowerly, dark purple and bright pink rug. Hey, it was 30 bucks and his rug was 50. And mine is bigger. Always take a women shopping when it comes to stuff like this because I know half the time boys just dont care. Just buy what might get to job done. But women will get to job done in a nice to look at, cheap way. So the youth group has a lot of color that was desperately needed.

So, yes, this week has been much better than last which is great hope for my heart.

I maybe be seasons behind, but Gilmore Girls is great. But while watching Rory kissing on Logan tonight I was quite confused because I just saw her share a great kiss with Jesse. Now, I gotta watch for season three to come out to get fully updated. I know, it is quite a sad thing.

Im onto my Fourth scarf in my knitting adventures. Its probably the most fun scarf Ive made since. Id say more but someone who reads this is getting it (sorry Carla, not yours. Not that yours isnt fun, just this is different. You shall see soon). A girlfriend of mine and I went to a quaint yard store in her town the other day and they were closed. On a Monday - what is that?! So, we are going back on Friday and then having brunch while knitting and watching Gilmore Girls. Its gonna be a good day.

It’s caution and curiosity and it’s all the things I never see
Welling up inside of me. Oh, it’s all right here 
It’s what is best and what is worse, it’s how I see the universe
It’s in every line and every verse, Oh, it’s all right here 
~Sara Groves

Ive had a pretty tough week emotionally. Hence, the lack of writing because everytime I sit down to write something its bitter or sad. I’m trying to stay away from writing such things and sharing them. Somethings are just better to keep unsaid.

Work has been fine. Not horrible but not great ether. They want me to move up in the company, which is encouraging but at the same time scary. I have, what we will call a “thing” with one of the upper management that is driving me crazy. Hours are kinda low, which means its harder to be on schedule with saving money for when Jason comes or when I go to Va. Which all leads me to stress over things I really don’t need to be, but I do. One of the assistants is transferring stores bringing in a new assistant to get to know and how he works with a team. But, its a guy which is kinda nice because a lot of times we just have too much estrogen in that place that even I as a women cant take it.

Ive had a few people who I haven’t seen in a while enter in my daily life for a brief moment this week. Ones I have mixed emotions on because of my trying to be close with them again since moving back but getting nothing from their end. They were disappointed we didn’t keep up more. I truthfully wanted to, but didn’t tell them I had tried but stop trying because it just hurt too much to keep putting myself out there.  Another person asked about a party I wasn’t invited to and it got awkward. I didn’t mean for it to be, I just told her the simple facts of that strain relationship for whom the party was for and she said “but all of that happened so long ago.” Yes, yes it did. Sadly, it hasn’t felt this strange in my mutual friends with this distance friend since the cause of our relationship to end. So, it stirs up old feelings that I thought I had dealt with enough to be over them. But here I am again walking on egg shells to make sure I’m not the one to screw anything more up than it already seems to be.

J-Hi has been pretty good. We are in transition right now with our new Jr. High pastor, Brian. I like him thus far, but I liked him from the two guys we were picking from. Its nice to have him, though it means a lot of changes. Changes that as a leadership team we’ve all known its been a long time coming so we are little more prepared for it. But this kids are sad to see the young married couple who has help the group a float till Brian was found leave them. As am I, though I will continue to see them in different ministries at the church. Ive said before that I find most of my fellowship needs from the folks I do Jr. High with, which makes me wonder if I put too much expectation on those relationships or not.

Ive kept spirits up with borrowed seasons one and two of Gilmore Girls. The early days are quite fun but at times since you know they don’t end up with a certain person you wonder how its all going to pan out. Its like the missing pieces to a puzzle and they make it way fun to figure out how they fit. Also, to deal with mixed emotions Ive been putting together a mix of songs that help me through my emotions of the aforementioned strained relationship. Well see if they actually do help. I have completed my first scarf and well on my way to another, a gift to my brother for his birthday since he loved the first one I made. So if your in the market for a scarf, just let me know, I’m enjoying knitting more than I thought I would. I haven’t been reading much, which hasn’t helped my funk Ive been in all week. That’s what not reading does, puts me in a funk. So I need to pick up a long awaited fiction book I have yet to read to help bring order to it all. As for now, I’m going to go watch Amazing Race 7. Lets hope it doesn’t stink this season.