Indonesian Lullabies

I learned an Indonesian Lullaby once and it stuck with me. I loved being whisked away by this foreign language and having no idea what was being sung, but the melody was cathartic. It was whimsical and soothing and made the world around me feel, 'right'.

Lately in my life I haven't felt much. Not too excited about much, not too driven to do much, and not too thrilled to achieve much. I wish I could find another Indonesian lullaby to sweep me off my feet and take me up to dreamland. It's been too long since I've just relished in passion and drive. As lame and depressing as this post sounds, I assure you, I'm happy. I'm just tired of gliding lethargically through each day. I'd like to be wrapped up in something so wonderful that it depletes all my energy to fight through and make a difference in something. I want to be wound tight again and taken back to the time and place where there was a deep heart-aching purpose. Where, like that old Indonesian lullaby, I had no idea what was happening, but I knew it felt right and good and beautiful. Like when dancing for no reason made perfect sense. Or when laughing at nothing was a perfectly good reason to laugh. I'm searching for that Indonesian lullaby...I'll keep you posted.

Woven.

It takes many years for a blanket or rug to be woven into a masterpiece. It takes thousands of strands and thousands of hours invested into it. It takes patience, determination, and vision for someone to complete it. I'm realizing this lately; I am being woven, I am not the mastermind behind it. I am not the weaver; I am the blanket in progress.

I am an achiever. I am a do-er. I am the one who always puts in the effort, who makes the dream come alive and who brings others' dreams to reality. But not today.

I've recently taken a step back to observe who I am. I've been trying to fit all the pieces together into what I think I'm doing and where I'm headed. But maybe, for now, I should focus on the fact that I'm a growing and changing blanket and everyone and everything in my life is shaping me into something greater than I can even imagine, so maybe it isn't my job to figure it out just yet. I've been too focused on where the thread needs to go and what color should be used next and how it must be executed for the 'perfect' final product. And as of late, I've taken a step back to witness the beauty of this blanket that is being created by my life.

I'm finding comfort, today, in the big picture. Not in the small idiosyncrasies or imperfections. And today I see a blanket being woven, not all of the hard work and details that must be just right. Today I am appreciating the work in progress.
I am being woven and I'm not finished just yet.

I'm leaving the analysis for another day. The expectation to be a 10 can come on another day. Sometimes we need to take a step back from all of the 'I need to...' and take a look at ourselves and say, 'I am.'

And today I'm not focused on my end product; I'm focused on the fact that I'm being woven, and I am going to just leave it at that, for today.

Stewie. My dog.

I am a human and I'm distraught over a dang dog, which is why I'm almost embarrassed to write this post. But at the same time, this dog was one of the greatest gifts I've ever received. I'd dreamed of getting a Great Dane for most of my adult life....and my darling husband let me get one this April; and his name is Stewie.

You have to understand, we don't have kids, so Stewie immediately became my little man. I dote on him left and right. We go for runs/walks in the morning and I come home at lunch to snuggle with him and at night we all play together... this is our little family. I know I sound dumb to those of you with human children, ha, but you have to understand that he is my child at this point in my life. He demands my attention, and I'm happy to give it to him because I love him so much.

Well. After many tests and weird behavior from Stewie, we found out this week that he has bone cancer. Just typing that makes me feel so stupid because he's a DOG, but at the same time, typing that brings me to tears...he is the closest thing I have to a child at this point in my life.
We've been given options that include amputation and chemotherapy...and of those, they will only EXTEND his life a year at best. This is non-curable.

We are not some couple who has $3,000+ to put into a dog....to add a year to his life (max.). We can get some meds for him that will reduce the pain while this disease continues to spread through his lungs, but it will only help the pain, nothing more.

Today, my full-of-life Stewie laid on the couch for 10 hours. He is showing symptoms that he is in pain...I don't know what we should do. My husband, Brent, has been amazing through all of this. Where I am usually his partner in coming up with logical explanations and conclusions about life, right now I am an emotional train-wreck...something I'm not used to. Part of me just wants to amputate just in case he is the miracle child who survives and lives a beautiful life....he's only 4 for goodness sakes!!! But deep down I know that it just won't help.

So here I am, faced with having to put my dream dog/pet/son down within a week of hearing he is sick. To make matters worse, it's my birthday on Saturday. So do we do it early this week so I can enjoy my day or do we do it at the end of the week so we have the weekend to digest it?

I can't process his death just yet, so right now I'm trying to just get through RIGHT NOW. And he's laying next to me with his head on my lap snuggling me on the couch...sleeping. What a beautiful 6 months it's been...

When the world stays sleeping

I'm a morning person. I get up early, go for a run while the sun rises and I'm good. But tonight, however, I'm up. The world is a very different place when everything is sleeping. My home is dark, so I can't see the CHAOTIC MESS of thing strewn across the living room and kitchen. Our dog is asleep, so I don't have a constant nose in my crotch begging for attention. My husband was too tired to talk to his obsessive wife any longer...he crashed. So while the world stays sleeping my blaring thoughts aren't about to let me doze into abandon.
What's on my mind? Too many things for a blog...but I'm disappointed in myself as of late. Do you ever feel like you are not enough, and then you make others feel like they are not enough? As if you can even out the negative score on yourself if you just let others know they aren't up to par either.....what is that SICK part of our nature? It's an ugly beast that loiters, just waiting for the right moment to jump in and remind us, "Let them know they aren't perfect either...remember the time they forgot to _____________..."
Well, it's come time to 'turn on the light' and let the sun rise on the scattered mess on my mind and heart...It's time to bring on the spotlight and reveal the chaos that has been allowed to sit too long.
Wish me luck. While the world sleeps tonight, a light has been turned on and a deep cleaning is about to begin in me. While it's liberating and refreshing, it takes time and sometimes it just plain sucks to have to clean everything up. But it's my own mess....

and then we all grew up...

Do you ever look in the mirror and think ? When in the world did we all grow up?! Summer has always been the season of weddings and babies, but this summer has rocked my world with the wedding bliss chaos and baby explosions galore~
Everyone and their mother's, literally, are having kids. I recently attended my 8th baby shower THIS YEAR, and just planned and attended a wedding shower of the 6th wedding I will be attending this summer. When did we all grow up? And what am I supposed to be feeling in this weird time of being a wife and not single, but being a wife and NOT a mother....it's not at all what I'd imagined.

My sister also recently moved, and with all my friends having kids or getting married, I feel a bit lonely. Brent and I have been able to spend a ton of time together alone, which was RARE for our first two years of marraige, but now it's like I feel we have NO outlet. My friends are all Mommy now and hanging out with them seems to be a half-hearted, half-attention, half-conversation all in itself. Which I completely understand....THEY HAVE A BABY....but it makes me feel as though I just don't belong in their world of 'my eyes are looking at you, but my thoughts are on what my child is doing in the carseat next to me." Obviously, I get this mentality, and I will DEFINITELY be 'that' mother when I have kids of my own. But for now, I DON'T have kids of my own and I feel two polar opposite emotions. 1.)I feel a little left out of the 'look at my new baby' club. and 2.) I feel a little relieved that I am not in the 'look at my new baby' club.

I'm not ready to be completely absorbed in my own child and not work and stay at home all day. But I am also the woman sitting at home everynight watching movies because she has nothing better to do because all her friends are nursing, feeding, entertaining, and cuddling their new additions to the family.
It's an odd place I've found myself this summer.....

To you new mothers: You get to constantly look into the eyes of a baby YOU made with someone you love. You get to ENJOY your time with your adorable new additions because they are YOURS. They are beautiful miracles from God and you are a part of their life's journey.

To those of you who aren't in the new motherhood club: You get to take naps and relish in the idea that no one will be waking you up. You can take a walk, alone, and take as much time as YOU want with no distractions.

I guess there is immense beauty on both sides of the spectrum...I'm just walking the fine line right in between and haven't really decided which side I want to be on at the moment. However, I think I'm leaning toward the "no throw-up on my cute clothes" side....just sayin...

To those who govern:

To you. Whether you are an attorney at law, a police officer, or even a security guard. This is my letter to you. I want to start with a thank you. In the last few weeks I've encountered several of you, from VARIOUS fields, and you all seem to be interested in one thing: justice.

But here is where I must pry a little deeper with several questions. And these are not coming from a sarcastic angle or with ANY snide intention. To anyone who reads this, ask your fellow family members or friends who represent the law...these questions are coming from a genuine heart that is trying to make sense of things.

To those of you who govern: Why do you do it? How can you go home at night knowing you did something for a greater good, but someone out there is angry with you, or that maybe someone was innocent afterall? Maybe I am just too concerned with creating a world of peace that my stomach is too fragile for that type of work. (Well, it definitely is... ha.)

Before I receive comments from those on the defense, I want to explain where I'm coming from. I just spent a week and a half as a federal juror. I won't go into the details of the case, but I am the person who ALWAYS sees both sides of the story...so making up my mind is a difficult task.

So I'm at the place of coming to grips with my decision in the case. Was he guilty, yes...on some of the counts. But my mind continually reminds me, "But Erica, he really was just at the wrong place and the wrong time." And those of you in law KNOW that there are so many convicted felons in this world who were put in jail solely because they just made the terrible mistake of not telling someone of authority what was going on....(yes, they are still in the wrong and should be tried as guilty...)

While I can live with, an agree with, what our jury decided as a verdict, I am finding it hard to live with the 'what if's' of the situation...what if he really DIDN'T know what was going on around him. Did we just put a man in prison (for a very long time) who was innocent?

To those of you who govern....how do you digest the 'what if's' in your situation?
I can't seem to shake the, very real, possibility that we didn't really get the whole story....and decided someone's fate.

And to those of you who have maybe had to make a decision that effected the entire life of someone else....how did you live with NO regrets in your decisions?

This comes from a heavy heart. I would truly love any and all words that people have to say on this matter.

Blue Toenails

I painted my toenails blue yesterday. Blue is not usually the color I'd pick for my toes, but it was just one of those, "Blue is good today," days. And today is sunny and I wore sandals to work and my blue toenails came with me. Just looking down at them makes me smile.
My blue toenails took Stewie, our great dane, for a walk and they loved the summer sunshine that joined us.
Nothing profound to say today. But sometimes blue toenails can make all the difference in the world. They can make you laugh. And that's all I've got today.
Hope you have a "blue toenail" kind of day today!

A new perspective

Went to church this morning and was reminded of a few things. First, Jeff Lucas spoke about Abraham and about his testament to, not only the church itself, but to the world. Abraham is one of the most respect men in the bible for his works done through faith as well as his faith by itself.
Jeff mentioned a point that struck me profoundly; sometimes we define ourselves by our failures...but God defines us by our faith.

I am the person who defines herself by her failures.

I look through my life and pick out those moments when I've screwed up or made the 'wrong' decision and I talk to God like he only sees me as that girl. But today I thought about this; what if I'm talking to a God who REALLY sees something else, and when I approach him in my embarrassed and repentant state, he just looks at me and says, "But Erica, remember that other time when.....(and brings up something postive that I've done.") But silly me, I don't hear him say that part.

I left Jeff's message with this in tow: I've had failures. But so did Abraham, one of the most referred to men in the bible. I've made mistakes, but so did Abraham. And in Hebrews 11....NONE of his mistakes are mentioned when speaking about what a leader he was to his people. So...if a man as influential as Abraham can make a mistake or two and change his life to make a difference...maybe I can too.

And directly after service Brent, my husband, and I teach Sunday School to five year-olds. Which brings me to my second realization: Today we taught about Saul and how his life dramatically changed once he was saved. And it was his friends who bailed him out when authorities were looking to kill him. In our attempts to teach our kids about friendship and helping one another, we made friendship bracelets. Each child made a bracelet for themselves and one for their best friend....
A boy in the class made one for me. He asked me my favorite color and made my entire bracelet in that color, (orange).
What a real life expanation of the things I am doing 'okay' in. I may make mistakes. I may disgust myself sometimes.... but what if God has the perpective of my little 5- year old...and says....I love you and want to give you a friendship bracelet that I made for you because you mean a lot to me. My heart began to melt away the disappointment I've felt for too long.

And I realized that maybe God does JUST love me for me. He loves me for my incomplete self and my lack of success. But at the end of the day....if my savior, the one who I try to impress all the time and continually fail to impress, still loves me and makes me a friendship bracelet...then maybe I'm an okay person afterall.
Today was the glimpse of a new perspective. I hope it stays...because I think HE wants it to.

Underneath the Harmony

Music. It's an entertaining thing. It's a moving thing. I find that the perfect CD or the perfect playlist is the best thing for me to listen to on days I feel like being moved. The melody, the harmony, and the lyrics set the tone for my day.

I've recently been pondering this. What happens before the music become popular? What happens while writing the songs? Where are the original fans of this artist? I wonder all of this because my sister is a musician, and a dang good one at that.

My sister is having a CD release party this month. She is a brilliant guitar song writer and singer. I have the claim to fame that she is my sister, but sometimes I wish we weren't related so I may have more validity to supporting her. People often assume that because we are of the same blood that we are best friends, and who WOULDN'T support their best friend? With that said, let me tell you about my sister and me.

Brooke and I are opposites on almost every level. We don't usually listen to the same music, we don't enjoy the same movies, nor do we alway agree in arguements in life. She is tall, I am 'figured,' (to put it nicely). I have short hair, she has long hair. I enter into athetic competitions and she sits in her room writing lyrics. I teach Sunday school and am a Marketing and Public Relation Coordinator for a Financial firm (GrowSecure.com....just doing my marketing duty here. ha.) and she is a barista at a coffee shop. I couldn't stand in front of a crowd and talk, let alone SING, to save my life. Brooke sings to, and inspires, hundreds of fans at the drop of a hat. I graduated from College with a degree and she has put in two years of college and is considering maybe going back someday...maybe. Brooke and I were not automatically soul mates as friends. I am a logical and pragmatic person, while her emotional rants and off-the-wall ideas get me thinking that life may NOT indeed be about logic.

But we ARE sisters. Our father loved us with the same amount of love. Our mother mothered us as best she could. We both have blonde hair, and we both laugh at the same jokes.

While we are truly complete individuals, HER MUSIC brings us together. When she grasps at her guitar and the strings begin to pluck or strum (not totally sure what the difference is), we sing. We dance, we harmonize, we connect. Connection.

Isn't that the point of music...the connection is the sole heart of every artist while they slave over the perfect song.

And my point is this. If the moment that Brooke begins to play makes every indifference between us blur out of sight, then maybe me being an advocate for her isn't JUST because she's my sister. Maybe it's because I believe in this artist. I believe in her passion. I believe in her conviction behind every word. I believe that this Brooke can overcome the heart-wrenching world of 'the music industry'. I believe in her. And I'm asking you to as well.

Brook Anne Northrop is throwing her, first ever, CD release party sometime this month and I'm inviting you to join her, to join us, in celebrating what this woman has accomplished. Being the dreamer that she is, I know she's dreamed of this night since even before she was a teenager. I will keep you posted on the date.

For now, I am leaving with the intention that you will maybe look her up on myspace music.com (Brooke Northrop), that you will maybe purchase her music on itunes, that you will maybe show up at her party, and maybe even purchase a $5 EP CD. Maybe you will, maybe you won't, but nonetheless, if you ever come across a promotion for her from ANYONE, even a relative, know that even those of us closest to her who may be the complete opposite believe in this amazing girl. And we believe in her music.

Not much to say

hi. It's snowing outside, I'm listening to Ben Harper and sipping on Earl Grey tea. My husband is out of town for awhile which has left me with much more silence than normal. To my surprise; I'm enjoying it. (Keep in mind today is only the second day he is gone.) My house is clean, the fridge is loaded with veggies and fruit, and my favorite 'chill' mix is playing while I write.
I figured I'd get on blogger and say something profound about life, but it turns out that I don't have much to say today. The superbowl is tonight, but I think I may go for a swim at the gym, come home and snuggle up in bed and watch Mona Lisa Smile...its a Mona Lisa Smile kind-of-day.
Here is to the days when there is not much to say. They aren't bad days. The are just simply quiet.

I turned into an onion in 2010

Can't believe I haven't written since December. As usual, lots has happened. So hello again to you. The title of my new post is true: I've turned into an onion this year.
Explanation: I've decided that every month I will give up something for 20 days straight. I'm not sure what the rest of the year will hold, but this month was alcohol. Not that I drink often, but I did want to give up something that I enjoy doing to see what things take effect in my life....
I realized that truly giving something up has taught me more about OTHER things to enjoy. Instead of wine with dinner, a glass of water would usually inspire me to go to the gym and get a GREAT workout in...something I've neglected for far too long. Instead of going out with friends, I drove everyone and still laughed just as hard, (and danced just as hard) but woke up the next morning feeling like a champ.
But setting aside all of the physical changes and things I did differently, I noticed that by giving up something I was able to continually look deeper into who I am as a person. I know this sounds very emotional and feely (not sure if that is a word or not), but it truly was a sweet time for me to unwrap things in my life that I often don't take the time to examine.
I feel like pieces of my walls, pieces of my callousness are shedding...thus the onion analogy. I had more time to consider my life and the things that I have burried to deep inside that I've truly never taken the time to hash out and de-clutter. I learned to love my work and to appreciate what I do there. I've taken time to just sit and dream with my husband about the "Maybe someday..." dreams we have. I've experienced the physical sweat and blood from beginning a rigorous running schedule again, something that has taken a back seat for too long.
I've peeled back several layers this month....all just from giving up alcohol. Odd.
I think next month I may be giving up coffee...I know right?! Not sure if that's the final decision yet or not....but I do have to say that I'm curious to see what else begins to shed when other things leave my everyday life. Of course...I will keep you posted (literally).

Who knew Leprosy could be beautiful?

Let's begin by saying that this blog post may not be my proudest moment, but it certainly was an important moment in my life recently; tonight to be exact.
So I've been dealing with a slur of emotions lately ranging from extreme excitment to sheer disapointment, but the overall feeling my heart has been coping with is 'missing the mark.' It seems like every time I turn around I've missed the mark somehow. One day I felt fat and ugly, the next day I was not the greatest friend to a friend who needed me, the next day I snapped at my husband about something so unimportant and miniscule that I'm not even going to write it on here. I've just kept messing it up for myself and those around me, and with that came a deepend sense of my ugly side. It was the same kind of ugly that I can spot in others so easily. And now here I was, pointing that finger at myself.

I began journalling about these details of ugliness in myself. It was like I was looking in the mirror at a leper-girl. I had open sores everywhere and knew that I could not heal them myself. Every day that is passing they are getting worse and uglier. That's when it hit me.

Now I don't know where your stance on God is, but I can tell you this much, Mister God is always coming in to meet me right where I am; leprosy and all. So it was at this point when I said, "God it's like I'm this leper just standing there in front of you and I can't do anything to make these ugly sores look any better, so here I am, an ugly leper girl." And that's when God replied. He said, "But Erica, you are still beautiful. I see past them."

How could I have forgotten that Jesus healed the lepers which means he HAD to have touched them...maybe he didn't even see the leprosy at all when he went to touch the infected. Maybe God knows I have areas in my life that I need some serious work on, but he DID take my hand and tell me I was beautiful. Why should I be hiding from the only person who can see past my ugliness? Why would a leper run from the only person who could see their beautiful soul?

One by one he can heal me. That doesn't mean I don't have to work on things, but nonetheless, one by one, little by little we will overcome this....but I can rest safe in his arms knowing he still thinks I'm beautiful...open wounds and all.

I was just missing the salt

So...I like to cook, as does my husband. I realized something in these last few weeks that may sound too simple, but I assure you, it is a novel idea to me. I've been missing salt in my life for the last few months.
I use salt in everything I cook. I love salt, but not too much...but EVERYTHING I make could always use a lil salt. So as I've been living my life day in and day out, I took no time to notice the bland taste I've had sitting in my mouth.
Our trip to Guatemala, and my new job as a PR and Marketing Director, added the long lost flavor I'd forgotten I'd been missing. I was living each day for that, just that day. I woke up to accomplish the tasks for the day, and go to bed knowing the next day would hold just the same list.
But when you travel across the world to touch the hearts of those who can't make a list, because all they are concerned about is LIVING to tomorrow...you realize you maybe forgot to take notice of the little things in your own life.
And my new job. I love my job. I am working with happy people, who love working with me, and we enjoy our work. SALT!
The last few weeks have added a vibrant taste to a long-lasting absence of the simplest additive; salt. I can't believe I'd gone so long without it.
I encourage you today. Add salt back into your life. Stop living everyday so that you forget what it even tastes like to be moved for one second, to experience joy, to laugh out loud, or sing aloud in your car....add some salt...and feel those tastebuds come alive. (and by tastebuds, I'm talking about your heart...)

For those who have no voice

My husband and I are leaving for a misisons trip on Sunday. I find it peculiar that my year can go by with a few thoughts lent to those in Guatemala, but for the most part, I am concerned about getting the laundry done, getting my workout in, and getting dinner on the table every day. My mind rarely shifts to the immense pain and suffering that people I love are experiencing.
So today's post is for them. It is for those who have no voice to be heard, and for those who live such desolate and expendible lives. But not to me. They are interesting and funny people who live every day concerned about getting laundry done and having dinner on the table. But they walk 4 miles to work, usually with no shoes. They feed a family of 7 because their elderly parents live with them, and dinner is cooked over a smal flame in their bedroom, or bathroom; whichever room lends the most space.
So I write for you today. You inspire me, you have inspired me since I met you eight years ago. You live your life simply, not asking for more than you can afford, not even asking for anything luxurious. And you never ask for anything in return. You are the woman, the man, that I aspire to be like. I think about throwing away my black strapy sandals because my friends tell me they are out-of-date, but you made your clothes and have worn them for 10+ years. And you wear them with a smile and no concern if your neighbor will be dissatisfied. You wear them with gratefulness that you have clothes. I wish I was more like you.
You share a cement block and cement floor two bedroom with your family of seven, and you never complain about having to share a bedroom with your mother and father and you spouse and your two children. You just live.
I am leaving on Sunday for nine days, only nine, to live your life, and already I'm packing lysol and sanitary wipes, and shower shoes....but you wash your body in the river, and hope to have clean enough hands to prepare your dinner on the bathroom floor. You are survivors.
So today is about you. I love you, I admire you, and I cannot wait to see you all again. You change my life daily, no matter how small. But you change me into a more grateful and compasisonate person. You bring reality to my selfish and vein world.
Thank you. I think I'll keep my black strapy sandals today, and maybe even wear them out tonight.
To you. The most inspiring people in my life, whose voices will never be heard.

Gin and Blind Dates

I am doing something tonight that I've never done, ha. I've invited over two close friends for a blind date. I assume they are nervous, but I feel like my heart is about to explode from my chest. Why is it that we are so full of butterflies for others in our lives to find bliss? Ha. I am sitting here drinking a gin and tonic to calm the nerves, but I can't imagine how they feel. Of course, I know it may not end up in marital bliss, but maybe, just maybe, they will find a new friend. Someone to share their dreams with, someone who can console them on heart-wrenching nights. A girl can hope, right?
The funniest part about tonight is this: He is an ex-boyfriend, and she is like my little sister. HA! I can't help but laugh, really. It's ironic that I've made this match. He's a dreamer, and an adventurous spirited and brilliant man, and she is a dancer, a GOOD dancer. They both live whimsical lives, how perfect right? They both speak Spanish, like me, and speaking a different language with someone is such an intimate feeling. (Maybe you know what I'm talking about). But yet again, it's whimsical, it's like no one else in the room exsist but the two of you. Sorry, that was a total tangent. Back on track: The blind date.
I have never been on a blind date. But it must be something spectacular. Knowing that someone you love has someone else that they love, and they want you to find eachother and fall in love. There will be, hopefully, lively conversation, drinks, dessert, and games (there always has to be games, in my opinion, it brings out the TRUE self). Also, hopefully, there will be an exchange of numbers and hugs (or handshakes, I don't know. Oh! I'm nervous!), and there will be the drive home for each of them. That is the beginning.
It could be the worst disaster of the year, it could be the biggest failure on my part to expect them to get along, but oh how beautiful is the hope of love. Everyone must feel it at some point or another. We all feel those butterflies that come when we meet someone who consumes our thoughts on the way home fromthe night, or the chance encounter. We may scrutinize them, we may analize their every move, but nonetheless, we are thinking about them. And isn't that the beginning of love? -Or, at least, of something worth holding onto? For indeed, they are captivating our thoughts.
So I raise my gin and tonic (sorry it isn't some fancy drink) to you two, we will see in two short hours what evolves. All I want is for you to find happiness. All I want is for my friends to find that happiness I've found in my husband. And that happiness is an entirely different blog post. For now, my hopes, my giddiness, and my exceitment lays in the hands of two strangers on a blind date.
Cheers~

Turns out

Good morning world.
Got back from a weekend vacation in California, and am coming to grips with something I've been viciously lying to myself about for years. Turns out, I have no fashion sense whatsoever. Seeing as I'm from Colorado, the occasional fancy-schmancy shirt or shoes make me WANT to feel like I've got the ins and outs down of a fashion diva...turns out I'm a fashion fauxpau from head to toe.
I show up in San Diego to be greeted by a 21 year-old in a mercedes SUV and a coach bag to match. As I scoot my sweatpants covered body into the car with my no-name Target purse, I feel less than qualified to even be IN this car. Seemed as though everyone had a mini dog to match their outifts. Boy was I in for a weekend!
We were getting ready to go out on the town on Friday night. As everyone put on their newly purchased frilly dresses and name brand pumps, I slipped on my simple, and favorite, black high-heeled sandals, only to get a reaction of pure disgust from every girl in the room. Dang, I missed the mark again.
The weekend came and went. It was full of fun and laughter and, of course, lots of dancing.... But now that I am sitting back at my Colorado dining room table, drinking my homemade coffee in my chipped mug, I realize that maybe missing the mark in fashion has nothing to do with my contenment as a woman. Was I embarrassed, of course. But it didn't knock me for a loop in thinking that maybe 'I' just wasn't enough.
So, to you woman who always dress to a tee in the perfect outfit, drive the perfect car, and have every surgery imaginable....I salute you. Way to keep up with the Jones'. But remember that just because my black strapy sandals cost the same as your Venti Starbucks non-fat, no sugar, no syrup latte, doesn't mean I'm less of a woman. Maybe we are both happy with our lives. Maybe I was meant to wear sweats and feel sexy.
So...turns out my fashion is exactly that; my own. And I love me.

Hello World, I'm back

It was February when I last wrote. I'm sorry. But, my goodness, has my life changed. I cannot believe that I am only two short months away from the end of the year, and I only have a few resolutions left to accomplish.

Guess what!? I ran the Denver Half marathon...I did not do it in under 2 hours, BUT, I still did it. Check mark for that one. My husband and I are currently remodeling our downstairs bathroom...so we are on our way, check.
We are also leaving for Guatemala for a missions trip next month. Check.
I have paid my tithe almost every month this year; check.
The only ones I've not accomplished are my goals of a full marathon, a triathalon, and a road trip. But the year is not yet over...
I just wanted to check-in, see where I'd left off too many months ago.
But guess what else?! I've begun writing my first book...title and subject matter to be announced soon...but for now...I'm still putting on my running shoes, still attempting to have progress daily, no matter how small it may be.

An honest voice, a broken spirit.

Funny that my senior quote was, "An honest voice will always rise above a crowd." I've lived by the mantra of being an honest woman, an honest person. Now that I've entered the adult world, in this world, the risk of honesty is not possibly losing my 'coolness rating,' it is of losing my job and friendships of others. This new world is full of moments where honesty comes at a significant cost. 

Last month I took the leap; I was honest. In the moment, my palms were sweating as my boss approached me about problems in our office. As I sat, with deer-in-headlight wide eyes, my trembling voice spoke Truth. As I went home, feeling like I'd stabbed a friend in the back, while solving a serious issue, I thought, "shouldn't taking the high road be more satisfying? Shouldn't I feel like a better person because I was honest?" But indeed, I didn't feel better. I still don't.  But it was the honest thing, the right thing to do.

Here is the thing about honesty. I've found that I may not have peace with those at work who know watch their backs because they figure I'm on the lookout for bad behavior. But I have peace with my Savior who asked me to be honest. I was asked a question, and I answered.

But here is my question, should one ALWAYS be honest? I've been fighting myself for more than a month now with the inevitable truth-teller's guilt. Does it boil down to values? Does it boil down to work environment? Or just my personal convictions?

If my honest voice rises about a crowd, aren't I supposed to feel like I'm on the top of the world?

Putting on my shoes

Only a week in to the training season for my half marathon in March, and I've come to the conclusion that the hardest part about running 5 days a week is the simple action of putting on my shoes.

The runs are not hard enough for me to stop running midway, nor is the weather too terrible to handle. No, it is first action that determines my entire day.

If I get home after the long day at work and walk past my running shoes and into the kitchen, it is a sure bet that I will make a 'snack,' pour a glass of wine, and turn on the inevitable chick-flick that I've seen a hundred times over to which now I am able to do the laundry and just listen to the movie, all the while knowing what is happening on the screen.

However, if I step into our home, walk up the stairs and come face to face with those blue and white Asics running shoes, I come face to face with the big bad monster. If for that moment, I can shut off the automated voice in my head that is listing the hundred reasons why I "deserve a day off," and I reach for my shoes...I am on my way to accomplishment.

Once on, I'm out the door and return an hour later feeling more energized and motivated to take on making dinner, finishing the laundry, cleaning up our room, and possibly cooking meals in advance for the week--well maybe not THAT motivated-- 

Nonetheless, if I can put on my shoes, I can conquer. Conquer my tiredness, my run, my long work day, and the chores I am dreading all day. So wish me luck. Come 5:00 today I will be faced with the infamous stare-down and I will have to make a decision. Walk passed, take a seat, and stare at the TV...or take on the challenge and conquer-

Finding Erica in 2009

2009 came quickly-

Between work, running, eating, and sleeping, I made no time for ERICA in 2008. Where did she go? I've decided to find her this year. After a few days of soul-searching, I've set goals and am determined to accomplish dreams that I've long forgotten-

Going public with these things may be risky, but I've learned time and time again that SAYING (typing) it, makes it real. It gives my dreams a place in this world, rather than a 'dream,' they become goals. Goals tend to inspire, while dreams tend to fade- at least in my life.

Here Goes: Finding Erica in 2009

1.) Run a marathon

2.) Compete in my first Triathlon

3.) Sing in front of a crowd

4.) Write a song on the piano

5.) Pay my tithe monthly

6.) Go on a missions trip, or be planning one

7.) Start a Blog (DONE!)

8.) Run a half marathon under 2 hours

9.) Re-do our two bathrooms

10.) Take a road trip with my husband

11.) Read the entire bible

Ha. there are more written down at home, I cannot remember them all. For now...that is plenty to overwhelm me...

So here is to finding myself again. To letting go of losing myself, and to being inspired to move ahead in life.

I'll keep you updated on the journey-