Lost in Translation

Somehow my family's harmless dinner conversation took a slight turn towards crazytown the other night. It started out simple enough, discussing my one friend's wedding and how I am one of 7 bridesmaids. This somehow made my dad think of Snow White and the 7 Dwarfs, which would have been fine and dandy, except he began to then think in German. My dad said some sentence in German that I didn't understand (surprise surprise) and he starts laughing. My mom and I of course asked him what he just said and all my dad could do was shake his head, which indicated that he wasn't exactly sure if he should repeat in English what he just said. Turns out it translated to The Snow Whore and the 7 Dwarfs, but of course we couldn't just stop there. My mom decided it would be best to change the dwarfs out for concubines, so we officially have a new version of Snow White entitled The Snow Whore and the 7 Concubines. No wonder I am the way I am. There's absolutely no hope for sanity, but I think I'm okay with that.

Take home points from my day:

• Running is a great way to relieve stress
• Laughter will forever be the best medicine
• Each day is time for a new adventure
• Don't always assume the worst and waste time worrying

I'm a Runner

Other than calling myself a Christian, I most closely associate myself as a runner. I've been running since I was about 8 years old, so I've been on the move the majority of my life. Recently, though, due to an ankle injury back in October and sheer laziness, my running has been sparse to say the least. But after yesterday and hearing about the bombing at the Boston Marathon, I have a new sense of motivation to make sure I get myself to run.
Many of the injuries to those closest to the bomb when it went off were to the lower extremities. News stories flooded social media and websites about numerous people with amputations due to the force of the blast. I can't imagine the excruciating pain those people experienced or the months of rehabilitation to learn how to function again without particular limbs. By looking at it from that perspective, I feel like I have no excuse not to run. I have all of my limbs in good functioning order. Sure, I might have the normal aches and pains of a runner, but these people are having to endure unthinkable pain. Why should I not use the body God gave me in a healthy manner, such as running? I must remember that I no longer have an excuse to be lazy. The people impacted by the explosions in Boston now serve as my motivation. I not only run for them, but for the whole sport of running. The entire community was impacted whether they were in Boston or not. I'm hoping more people are fueled by the urge to run in order to demonstrate that we'll continue to stick together like the family we are, even if we're complete strangers.

Take home points from my day:

• Runners and spectators have a unique bond
• Being able to run is a blessing
• Always tell people that you love them
• There's a reason for everything
• There's always time to pray and run

Pray for Boston

I'm at a loss for words. The Boston Marathon is supposed to be a celebration for runners who have reached the pinnacle in their sport. It's like the runners version of the Super Bowl, World Cup, World Series, or Stanley Cup. It usually remains under the radar because few have an appreciation for the physical and mental battle that these runners endure and find it a boring event to watch. I was excited to stream it live online to have my friend's 10 week old son "watch" the race with me. Honestly, he slept through most of it, but when he was awake, he was rather intrigued. It should be a happy memory for us to share in the future, but instead, it's marred by the senseless bombing of innocents at the finish line. Why the heck would anybody want to bomb a marathon? Or anywhere for that matter? I don't understand what causes someone to lash out at people they don't even know. There's no reason to completely ruin what is meant to be a joyous occasion in the running community. My heart goes out to all of the runners, spectators, first responders, volunteers, and physicians who were all impacted in some way by this tragedy. I can't even imagine what it must have been like to endure such an event. I did not have anybody close to be at the event, but I did hear of an acquaintance's parents being there and narrowly escaping the bombing. My thoughts and prayers go out to all of Boston. My hope is that the running community will endure and band together, stronger than ever to continue running. This will not stop us. We will continue to make strides in order to inspire those around us in the midst of the chaos and tragedy.

Take home points from my day:

• There is evil in the world
• Good always triumphs over evil
• Runners are resilient
• The running community is one big family
• Tomorrow is another day

I Survived!

Well since I'm able to type this, you must have figured out that I didn't die at the gym yesterday. Although, that probably had a lot to do with the fact that I opted out of the Olympic lifts and stuck to kettlebell deadlifts, kettlebell swings, dumbbell curls, and a core workout. My hamstrings are screaming everytime I walk, but I'm at least alive to tell the tale.
I also did meet an entertaining gentleman at Starbucks yesterday and did feel awkward sitting next to him as I read since he was wearing a suit and I so clearly was not dressed to impress. He apparently was preparing for a presentation at a conference on international civil societies. I told him that I work at a campground/river rafting place for 5 months of the year and volunteer with Samaritan's Purse in my spare time. I was amazed he had actually heard of Samaritan's Purse; I didn't expect a man with an Irish accent in a suit to have heard of the Christian relief organization, but it's nice to be proven wrong on occasion. We laughed at the enthusiasm of the workers at Macy's who apparently have a party every morning when they come in for work. Where can I sign up?
The rest of this post is dedicated to the fact that I can see God working in my life. I've got a Master's degree in exercise physiology and have had minimal luck finding a job in my field. A week ago I recommitted myself to working at the campground, which I think was set up by God. Why might you ask? Because today I just got a job offer in research (my dream) in the Bronx (a place that has strung me along twice). Since I prefer to honor my commitments, I kindly turned the position down, which some might think is against my better judgement. But I think it was God's plan all along to have me turn it down and go back to the place along the river to minister to those lost people. It's an eye opener to realize even more so that I'm meant to be there and maybe not necessarily in my field of expertise right now. I mean, if I took the job in the Bronx, that would hinder my ability to move to North Carolina, which is where I truly feel my home should be. And I'm beginning to believe that's where God wants me because He knew the Bronx job would come up and would hinder my path if I did not have a valid reason to reject the offer.

Take home points from my day:

• God is in charge of my life whether it's always apparent or not
• Doors will open to opportunities when you least expect it
• Loyalty is a quality everybody should possess
• If you take a bullet to the head, you don't have to worry about insurance or sheets for your bed...wise words from a Starbucks patron

Sticking Out Like a Sore Thumb

Picture it. Great Neck. April 2013. A lone female sitting in the corner of a newly opened Starbucks in red sweatpants, a gray long sleeve, and running shoes. I figured I would stick out in this hotsy-totsy neighborhood given my appearance, but luckily the barista figures I'm going for a workout this morning. We had some amusing banter about how she would have to get up at 2am to even consider exercising. She happens to be right about me and going for a workout. It helps that one of my friends is a trainer, but in all honesty, let's face it, the workout will probably kill me today. I mean, how the heck am I supposed to pull off Olympic lifting with my chicken arms and mile long legs? It's not like I'm in shape either, but I need to be in order to drag rafts, kayaks, and canoes all summer long. But I legit might not be able to move tomorrow after this workout. I've got 5 hours to mentally prepare, mull over my impending doom, or just figure out how to run away, but I know I won't do that. That wouldn't make for a good story. Me almost dying in a gym under some weights; now that'll be a good story.

Take home points from my morning:

• I found it amusing that somebody referred to a thunderstorm as Hurricane Sandy's daughter
• Everytime I show up, my one friend forgets how to function like a human being
• Do Super Atheists wear capes?
• Ironically my brother flew to Germany on National Sibling Day...way to celebrate by escaping dude :)

It's Funny Because I Thought About It

So last night I was out with friends at an Italian restaurant in Kutztown. It was a post-birthday birthday dinner extension whatever you wanna call it. Regardless, it was free food for me so I was happy, not to sound like a complete selfish jerk. I was super ecstatic to see a dessert called peanut butter explosion. Of course somebody had to be silly enough to ask me what it was and I promptly responded by saying it was an explosion of peanut butter...cue eye roll and a chorus of sighs. I then proceeded to entertain the waitress because I wrote something down on my hand to remember despite the fact that I had a notebook sitting on my lap. I told her it was because I wanted to remember it for later and I couldn't lose my hand unless somebody chopped it off. (Though that might be cool because I could be the female version of Captain Hook). The group's conversation then progressed into wondering whether or not you actually get drunker by drinking beer through a straw and the fact that Lu's family now has 15 beds for 4 people, which is the total opposite from her childhood. As she put it, "Four teenagers in the same room...I don't recommend it." We also got talking about the Train song "50 Ways to Say Goodbye" and how awesome it was and I pointed out the irony of a crappy purple Scion being parked in the parking lot behind us.

On a sidenote, I find it really touching that one of my friend's trusts me enough to text at like 1am to see if I'm awake and then proceed to spill out honest issues and truly ask for my advice. It means the world to me to be utilized by God in such a manner and being blessed with encouraging words to pass on via the Holy Spirit. Knowing that they could go to anybody else but opting for little me just makes me feel like I have a purpose. Sure, this person could have been talking to like five other people at the same time, but regardless, she still felt compelled to contact me and pour her heart out to me, and I'm grateful and blessed to have been able to assist the best I could.

To go off on another tangent, at 9pm tonight my brother is flying to Germany and will be gone until the end of July. I don't think I have allowed myself to fully comprehend the gravity of this. Not being able to randomly text him or hang out for 3.5 months will be a bit of a change. It just reminds me about how things in this life can change so fast. One minute you can be in the midst of a career and the next, you're  leaving that behind for a foreign country. In a sense, that's happened to me, minus the whole traveling to a foreign country. I fully expected to be working within the field of exercise physiology following the completion of my Master's degree, but that hasn't been in the cards for me. Instead, my life has been unemployment, temp jobs, Samaritan's Purse volunteer work, and realizing I'm heading back to my own personal Ninevah. And to tell you the truth, I wouldn't change it for the world. I'm definitely not doing what I thought I was supposed to be doing, but I think I'm on the right path. I have no bloody clue where that path is heading, but I'm happy to be on it and so utterly thankful for the people I've met along the way. I've discovered my true family in this process, which means more to me than any job or career ever could.

Take home points from my day:

• What came first, the cocaine or the brain aneurysm? 
• Paramore's new album is epic
• Everybody must read Sparkly Green Earrings
• It's best to laugh at life and yourself
• Reality can be painful and sobering, but must be accepted as is
• Accept all emotions from God, not just the good ones
• It's important to remember your life events
• The existence of the umbrella sword makes me happy inside

Quarter Century Reflections

Last night I had an early birthday dinner with my parents and brother. It was a tasty lasagna that I baked and a cake that my mom baked. Of course she used the candles that don't blow out, so I got a glass of water and dipped the candles in it since they wouldn't blow out. My brother was sweet and got me Oreos and a bouquet of roses. My dad gave me a sweet card that had a bookmark and said to keep reading and traveling, along with a large bag of mini Reese's cups. Madre got me two neon tanktops and a lovely card. Pretty awesome! I didn't realize until my brother was leaving, though, that it would be our last meal as a family until at least July since my brother is leaving for Germany next week.
Anyways, I turned 25 today. I'm not one who enjoys being the center of attention, so birthdays have a tendency to be a bit of a dilemma. I enjoy visiting people, but I don't want them to make a big deal over it or me. I also would much rather spend time with people than have them buy me presents because memories are what I really treasure, as opposed to material possessions. Overall, today was a fantastic day on many levels.
Despite the fact that I was functioning on three hours of sleep, I've enjoyed every minute of my birthday thus far. It was nice to get texts and Facebook messages from people, but I especially loved chilling with my favorite two month old. Getting to have naptime with Niklaus was super relaxing and just what I needed. Mama was nice enough to make me french toast for breakfast since I showed up at 10am, which was about 9 hours early for dinner according to Papa. I said it was because I wanted to make sure Mama didn't set it on fire by accident. J's Pop and Nan showed up for dinner, too, along with two friends and her sister Lu. Mama made an excellent spread of baked chicken, stuffed shells, Texas toast, meatballs, bowtie noodles, and sauce. To top it all off, they made me an icecream cake with chopped Oreos and Reese's cups and Skittles on top. The presents were lowkey and included a framed collage of pictures of me and the little guy, a 45 oz bag of Skittles and the book God Never Blinks, which has a bright orange cover...so me!
I think my favorite present, though, came from Hannah and KK from afar. They were at a flea market in Lewisburg and decided to make a video compilation singing me "Happy Birthday" in a variety of fashions that involved a creepy doll, mannequin heads, pictures of Dracula, and a roller skate with flowers jutting out of it. By far the sweetest and most hilarious thing anybody has ever done for me :)

Take home points from my day:

• Family is not all about DNA
• Correspond with those you love most no matter what
• I always end up getting random, extremely awkward advice from people such as you can wake up and eat at 2am but don't expect loving from a man who is fast asleep
• I'm an excellent multi-tasker
• My friends care more about me than I ever thought
• Moving in is not the same as passing through frequently

Five Hour Pancakes

Let me set the stage for you. I've been staying with a friend of mine who has a two month old; the cutest two month old ever, who is already a flirt. I see a budding mini Tony DiNizzo on the horizon. Needless to say, my sleep schedule and everybody else's in the house is a little less than normal because when the flirt wakes up, the majority of the house does too. This can make functioning throughout the rest of the day a little interesting to say the least.

Fast forward to about noon when Mama asks if we all would like pancakes. With a resounding yes, the griddle was warmed and ready for business! I opted to hold the little man while his ma ate her pancakes before I went to the kitchen for my serving of fresh pancakes. Papa was flipping over some pancakes when I got my plate of pancakes and returned to the living room. Mama insisted that I have seconds and to finish off the last of the pancakes so that there weren't any leftovers. Apparently she's realized the storage capacity of my so-called "hollow leg" and insists that I fill it to the brim with food. Once I had my fill of five pancakes, I chose to lay on the couch with the little man for the next four hours.

Four hours later, Mama walks into the living room clacking some hard brown objects together. She proceeded to tell us that I apparently did not ingest the last of the pancakes because she forgot about the four that were still cooking on the griddle and had been there for approximately five hours. Why we never smelled anything burning we'll never know, but chalk it up to some busy guardian angels! We also determined that five hour pancakes = not so instant hockey pucks. They also could be used to patch up holes in rusty car fenders, depending on your usage preference. Regardless, it makes for a funny story and Mama has since fired herself from working in the kitchen.

A little while later, the following conversation took place:

J: Can I go out on a limb here?

Me: Be careful!

J: Can I have an egg sandwich?

Mama: Now?

J: (insert sarcastic tone here) No, I'm putting in my order for tomorrow morning.

Me: Well, she figures it's gotta cook overnight (given the five hour pancake ordeal).

On a completely unrelated note, I opened the Sticky Notes application on my laptop and found some pretty awesome quotes that I typed from conversations I had with people. In no particular order we have:

"I used to be an altar boy. See I used to be close to God."..."Well what happened?"

"If you guys were in a sci-fi movie, you guys would be shot for noncompliance."

"The tank with no knees...sounds like a children's story."

"I'm not going for time. I'm going for don't break your ankle."

Take home points from my day:

• I got swayed, not suede the fabric
• Warning: if you go to grab the waffle box, beware of flying milk; it could knock you out
• Mama should attach smoke detectors to herself

It Never Hurts to Just Listen

We all have family members that we get tired of hearing the same stories from. The truth is, they just want to talk and share about their lives. Younger people tend to lose patience with older generations and decide they don't feel like listening for the millionth time. What's great, though, is when you get the opportunity to listen to stories from a member of somebody else's family because to you, they are fresh stories, and it appeases that older generation; they finally have listening ears that have a piqued interest. Because I didn't grow up having my grandparents around, I thoroughly enjoy listening to the adventures of other people's grandparents and learning their life stories. You never know what somebody has been through until you listen to what they've experienced. Just by listening, I've come across people who have helped the homeless, encountered poisonous snakes in South America, handed out socks to women on 9/11 because they had nothing but high heels to wear, overcome cocaine addictions, or were competitive ballroom dancers back in the day. Everybody has a story to share. Are you willing to take the time to listen to all of the exciting and mediocre details?

Take home points from my day:

• Don't be afraid to ask people to visit; you never know how excited they'll be over an invite
• More people care about you then you are aware
• Count your blessings, not your troubles
• Be patient and ask questions
• Two month olds can have a nasty uppercut and acknowledge this with laughter