There's a mythical place... very similar to Family Video or Redbox, but instead of renting movies, you can rent BOOKS?!?!  It's a genius idea, really...I mean, who can afford to buy all these amazing new books and devour them all?!  No....that gets expensive.  

I know, it's quite obvious in a "Do you live under a ROCK!?" kind of way.  When we were little and under the tow of my exasperated mom, we would take several trips to the library a week during the summer, and what little of my childhood that wasn't spent outdoors playing in my glorious river (creek bed) and forest (a poor excuse for timber) was spent pouring over books and reading as much as I could.  I participated in "Book It" and won myself several personal pan pizzas from Pizza Hut for my efforts.  I even dreamt of becoming a librarian myself, teaching poor kids how to read from the back of my library van where I would travel to small towns breathing a breath of fresh air into their imaginations.

But apparently when you go to college, "the library" takes on a new connotation and is no longer a refuge but a source of drudgery and studying.  At least for me it did.  It's not FUN anymore.  So I managed to avoid the library my entire college career and beyond.

Until today.

What's got me all fired up about the library again is that I've realized I can borrow books on my Kindle!!  All those books on my wishlist at Amazon just begging to be bought can now be borrowed and returned when I finish them!  My pocketbook is ecstatic.  And what's not to love about having several dozen books within grasp, ready for that moment when they can be chosen during a period of waiting for an appointment or right before bed, or if I happen to be at a ridiculously catching climax, at a long stop light.

I thought I had been a reading fiend this year, averaging 2 books a month (ish).  Well....Ames Public Library?  Game on, my friend.  Game on.

Eternally Faithful

Hey!  Look what I found in my blog "draft" folder!  It's a rare find to see something that didn't actually get posted at the original writing, but I'll take it!  I need a good back-in-the-saddle blog anyway...

A while ago, a friend posted a "member that time" about how over the course of a week, she beat all the guys in her homeroom in an arm-wrestling contest and that reminded me of myself...

I grew up a die-hard tomboy. Oh sure, I liked wearing dresses and tights, but I'm pretty sure that every single pair of tights I ever wore to school came home with holes on the knees that miraculously appeared because I certainly wasn't about to admit that I had ruined another pair.

Even now, I cringe at the idea of a tea-party themed women's retreat and "girls night out" where we paint our nails and do face masks.

Sorry girls, I think I'm sitting this one out.

I'm competitive, driven, and love a challenge. When I did a semester of the Army ROTC, my favorite part was the drills and obstacle courses we had to complete. Cross a wide stream using a rope tied between two trees while toting a large gun? Drop to the ground and army crawl through mud? No problem. It's one of the reasons I love bootcamp; it's hard, it sucks, it's challenging in ways you hadn't thought about before, and it's my own daily competition. Granted, that's also the reason why I hate it; I'm not top dog in there. But it keeps me coming back and pushing hard because once in a while, I do win.

But this attitude has a big downside; I refuse to let anyone think I can't handle something on my own; I'm fiercely independent. I can do it. I'll carry the heaviest box just to prove to you that I am not frail.

(Case in point, I was helping Paige and Todd move and picked up a heavy box. Todd offered to help and I told him, "I've got this! I do bootcamp!" to which he replied, "Yeah, but you'll never be a man!")

I have such a hard time submitting to the assistance of others and their help; it feels like admitting defeat. If I accept help, I'm admitting I'm not good enough, I've failed. In reality, it's not nearly that dramatic. But try telling my heart or mind that.

So when I get to a point in life where my burdens are just too heavy and I can't take another step, I'm forced into that position where I have to admit defeat and accept the assistance of the One who can carry it all, always. It hurts so much to say yes to His assistance, initially. But He lifts my burdens with ease and I don't feel shameful and embarrassed at my lack of strength. He knows I can't handle it all, He's always known. Deep inside, I do too. But each time I insist I can handle it on my own again, He lets go with sad eyes, knowing that He'll have to pick me back up in a short time.

Why don't I let Him carry my burden all the time? What do I have to prove to Him? I know He's not impressed by my selfish and prideful attitude of independence and He delights when I lean on Him, and honestly, I do too. My strength will never be enough, not even close. And when I rely on Him, life is better. Not less hard, but the burden is not mine to carry. He provides me peace during those periods of turmoil and pain.  I know He's capable and willing; He's proven that time and time again.  He's eternally faithful to carry me through all matters of life; all that He requires is my trust.

Because I do live a thrilling life worth documenting. Right?

Helloooo...Anyone other than Paige and people who pine after my updates/writing still read this thing?  (which is weird, a tad bit creepy, and all too flattering.  I mean, guys, it's been almost a year.  Desperate much?)

I honestly do enjoy writing...it's theraputic (sometimes) and I crack myself up at my oh-so-witty banter with myself.  But seriously, I rarely feel like I have anything worthwhile to post.  As hilarious as it is to me that I keep referring to the piles of tasks that I sometimes receive at work as a "butt-load of paperwork" and how incredibly awesome it was that I just ate an entire pizza and watched a terribly depressing movie on my Friday night alone, I don't feel like that translates well into blogging, nor do you care all that much.

But I could be wrong.  And because the only way some people get updates from me is through this blog (which is also depressing - Paige, our visits cannot be annual.  Jess, we need to skype regularly!), I should and/or could keep this up at least a little bit, right?  I mean, sometimes something awesome happens and you need to know.  Sometimes I can be super theological or I have a new insight into something/God's teaching me something new (or old, and I just have to relearn it again and again.).  I could definitely blog about that!

Or, this could be my blog for the year and you'll hear back from me in another 10-12 months.  We'll see.

In my shoes

I watched the movie Limitless on Sunday with dad, and I couldn't stop thinking about it the rest of the night.

The premise of the story is that this average guy who's hit a rough patch in life is given a pill that enables his brain to work at full capacity. He's able to think clearly, remember details from his past and put together connections that no one else is able to do. Without this pill, he slips back into the old Ed and loses all ability to function as he had before. But knowing what he is capable of when he's taking the pill, he continues seeking it out.

This is actually exactly what being on stimulants is like for me.

Without them, my brain is in a cloud of fog and fatigue. I can't think clearly, have trouble focusing, and if you're lucky enough, I may just fall asleep on you while we're holding a conversation (don't take it personally) (also, this has actually happened a few times. If you're reading, thank you for understanding, and I am still so sorry).

But within 10 minutes after taking a pill, my mind is awakened and I'm....well, awake. I can complete tasks, work efficiently, think critically, read and analyze. Comparatively, I feel limitless. But I can tell, within 5 minutes, of when my medicine has worn off. It reflects a physical change as well; my roommate/coworker can tell visually when they have worn off and when they kick on.

I'm not sure if there's a point to any of this (ahem...the last pill I've taken today wore off several hours ago) other than to say that if you want to have any understanding of how different my two worlds are, you should watch Limitless.

Also, my stimulants do not help me learn foreign languages fluently within a few days. Or create algorithms within the stock market to predict stock changes. Or know kung-foo from video games (because 1. we didn't have video games growing up and 2. that's just a knock-off from the tv show Chuck)

I need some time alone, but it's not what I want

I'm really tempted to vent like mad, right here, right now. I want to unleash all the fury that my womanhood possesses and ream someone out. I'm hurt, frustrated, confused, stunned, and every time my mind revisits the issue, all I can think is, "Seriously?!?!"

As temporarily satisfying as that would be, I know my Lord expects differently from me. And the more I pray and give God all my questions as to why this would happen, the more I'm given a sense of....well, pity I guess. I feel SORRY for this person. To be that clearly confused as to where they're going...it's frustrating, I know. I've been there. I want answers to life's questions too.

Being that my love language is physical touch, I really craving people right now. I want so much to cuddle with a roommate and spill my heart, my frustrations. I want to call a friend with a motorcycle to ride around for a while and release my anger and hurt by the intensity of the ride. I want to throw myself at anything else that will distract me from what I don't really have right now.

But I know I need Jesus. I need Him to cradle my heart as I hurt. I need Him as I vocalize my frustration and pain. I need Him to surround me and whisper truth that wipes away the lies that try to infiltrate.

Quick Catchup

It's been a while. Time for blog!! A lot has happened, and it's all really cause-and-effect, so we'll go with that.

- I had a sleep study towards the end of June for some sleep problems (overwhelming fatigue). No, it's not the kind of sleep study where I get paid. Yes, it can be very expensive. With insurance, I was expecting over $2,000 bill from the hospital.

- But my Jehovah Jireh is awesome!! My bill ended up being only $450ish!! THAT is incredible, and knocked me to my knees in praise!

-So now, I've been diagnosed with hypersomnia (essentially a narcoleptic). Yaaaay!! This is great news, honestly. It means the incredible and debilitating fatigue that has plagued me for the past 10 years has a very real cause and now we can DO something about it!!

- To try to get a better night's sleep, I bought a new bed. It's glorious. I did NOT purchase the $150 box spring, who's only purpose is to RAISE THE HEIGHT OF THE BED. That's right, that's all box springs are for nowadays. Can you believe it?

- But since "natural remedies" for hypersomnia really don't do anything, my doctor started me on stimulants. After a little trial and error, we've got something down that's working amazing. I know it sounds silly because few know how ridiculously hard it was for me to just stay awake, but it feels SO GOOD to be able to work all day and not hit a wall every few hours! I'm so glad I decided to pursue medical help!

- Because I can stay awake and focused, I CAN READ AGAIN!! No more falling asleep 2 pages in! My first book? Born To Run. I bought it last Tuesday and am nearly finished with it. I'm pretty sure this is a record for me... Anyway, the book is amazing, SO inspiring, and SO good!! I recommend it!

- Being on stimulants also means I have no more excuse not to go to bootcamp when I'm tired in the morning. I've been up for bootcamp on a much more regular basis now which is great. The more I do it, the more I crave it. It IS kind of like an addiction... But honestly, I have never loved and hated something so much in my life. I want to curse Jeff sometimes because it's SO STINKIN' HARD, but I know I can't. He's incredible at what he does. If I didn't die at least once a week, it'd be hard to justify throwing $100 a month at this. (I'm going into my 7th month)

- Which leads to my most recent race....the Warrior Dash. Jeff and I drove to Kansas City and ran a 5k with a bunch of obstacles and it was so much fun! We dressed up as the birds of war (from It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia) - so hot, and maybe not the best idea on a high heat index day (someone died from heat stroke in kc that day from the race), but we sure looked awesome. Pictures MAYBE to come. I'll definitely be doing it again next year!!

- And finally

I know you've done it too....

Since Emma moved out a month ago to do an internship in Ohio, I've gotten into the habit of locking the deadbolt behind me when I get home, partially for safety since I'm by myself and partially to get into the habit of doing it because our new "townhouse" will be near a halfway house. (Previous tenants told us that a random man walked into their place while they were home). Yikes...

I just had a "duh" moment. I was watering my new herbs in the backyard and went to go back in through the backdoor and realized it automatically locks.

I've locked myself out of my duplex, and my landlord AND duplex-mates are on vacation, not that it would do me much good because I don't have my cell phone to call either one anyway. And of course, I do this on a day when the heat index is 109. So I'm pacing our yard, sweating it out for several different reasons, and trying to figure out how to break into my house.

I ended up stabbing the window screen, tearing it out, and shoving the very high and freshly painted window open so I can hoist myself in. (did I mention I'm only wearing a tank top and skirt?! I'm sure I could have been mistaken for a burglar were it not for my attire.)

I made it back in the house, just in time to take the pizza out of the oven!!

But now I need a new window screen...one more thing to add to the move-out checklist. Anyone know where to go to get one?