The Single Life and Delusions of Grandeur

Sometimes I can be a little emo about single, but honestly, not that often. Most days I'm too busy or preoccupied with some other personal flaw to even think about my singleness. Well, today was one of those rare days that I found myself saying "I LOVE being single!" You may be reading this thinking that I have just gotten back some classically fun, single excursion, like a European backpacking trip meeting lots of single sherpas and sipping wine with Flo-Rida (because I'm sure that's what he's doing right now...sipping wine w/backpacking missionaries) but, no. My day was much more glamorous than that. I woke up promptly at noon, proceeded to my living room with Mindy Kaling's "Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?" in my hand, put on Netflix and watched approximately 13 episodes of "Storage Wars" whilst reading aforementioned book. I also whipped up a just-add-water chicken and wild rice soup, grazed on some homemade chex mix, had some of the Edy's ice cream I bought last night to prepare for my hibernation, contemplated exercising (and for the record, I did lift weights and stretch for about 3 minutes) and occassionally texted friends. So, here I am, 6pm, still in my pajamas, of which I have no intention of leaving today, and will soon reheat yesterday's burger, watch about 10 more episodes of Storage Wars or move on to a little Jeopardy and perhaps some chick flick starring Drew Barrymore. So, I'm basically living the dream.

Why did I feel the need to write a blog about a seemingly mundane, single-ladies day? Well, I blame Mindy Kaling. Or just reading in general. This happens every time I start reading books, and I LOVE having time to read books. I read things about comedy writers and think that I could probably be a sitcom writer if I ever applied myself. *insert delusions of grandeur*. The same thing happened when I watched "Save the Last Dance" in high school. One inspirational film and I was just a few dance lessons away from becoming the next best ballerina (and hopefully being in an inter-racial relationship). I wasn't going to be held back by my build, which could only be characterized as the antithesis of ballerina, but I worked on keeping my arms really straight and standing on my toes in a mirror for about 15 minutes. Then I decided I didn't need to be a ballerina...not because I couldn't do it if I really applied myself, but because I wasn't that interested anymore. Same goes for comedy writing. I watch the outtakes from movies like Anchorman, the read-through footage from 30 Rock, or anything "behind the scenes" and think, "I could totally do this!" As much as I like to pretend she's not there, no matter how much I grow up and "mature", the Bridget who dreamed of being on SNL is still inside. And she has recently gotten to come out and play on the main stage at IndyCC. For 3-10 minutes on 3 separate nights, I got to live out my dreams of having over 2,000 people think I'm funny at once. There are many more spiritual reasons for why I like to help emcee on stage at IndyCC, but honestly, it is mainly because I like to make people laugh. So, after making a few funny comments and a pretty hilarious video (due to a great team of people and youtube inspiration...here she is: http://vimeo.com/34488496), I have a bit of an inflated sense of self. I'm basically suffering from small town celebrity complex due to an excess of comments about how funny I am. Now I'm convinced I could take on Hollywood. So, I find myself daydreaming about joining the writers' room at SNL or Parks and Recreation. I wonder how long it will take me to be myself, to be comfortable, how I'll handle their inappropriate sketches and jokes, if I'll get made fun of for not cursing, drinking, smoking, or dating shady guys... Will I be seen as a prude, or will I earn their respect with my genius character development and tasteful wit. Then I wonder how long it will take me to get famous enough to write an autobiography and what kinds of personal details I'll put in it. I know it's going to be hard if I get too famous because I don't want the constant attention and the Perez Hilton scrutiny for going to the mailbox in my pj's at 4pm (no, that didn't happen today...I'm in such a post-conference fog I don't even know if mail is delivered today). So, after I live in my fantasy world for a few seconds, I realize I probably have just the amount of fame I need, that I enjoy getting to live out my childhood SNL dreams once a year, and that I'll resolve to live in the place where I could totally be a famous comedy writer if I just applied myself and wanted to be. And I would have a team of people to write with, although I've found I just need people in the room with me when I'm coming up w/creative ideas to affirm that I'm funny and not actually contribute to the ideas, but I'd let them and whatever celebrity I'm writing for take the laugh and I would humbly sit behind the scenes, knowing I just gave them a comedy assist. That is, until they realized how great of an actress I was and I'm the next Tina Degeneres (see what I did there?)

Anyway, I'm clearly never going to make it as a comedy writer because I'm already distracted and out of the zone, so I'm off to eat that left-over burger, watch a few more episodes of Storage Wars, and avoid the work I had intended to do today to make it a completely perfect "rest day". Now, on to the next book that will probably not have the same creative effect..."Being Latino in Christ". Or, maybe it will...

What makes me old...

I can't quite put my finger on it, but there have been several occasions when I have felt quite old...or, should I say, mature, lately. Maybe it's because my 10 year high school reunion just passed. Or, perhaps it is because I work with college students and am constantly being asked, "Oh, are you a junior?" Now, I find this flattering (kind of...I'm sure I will in 10 years, anyway) but when they ask this question, I know things are about to get really weird. You know that weird, don't you? That weird where you're in a small group discussion and "that guy" shares something WAY too personal. Or, the weird when someone plays Boyz 2 Men's "I'll Make Love to You" at the father/daughter dance at a wedding. See, even my pop culture references scream that I'm getting older...a little more irrelevant to the culture I'm surrounded in. Even the fact that I'm using capitalization sells me out. Anyway, when sweet Fantasia the freshman asks me if I'm a junior, I smile politely, shrug my shoulders a little, and apologetically say, "Well...I'm actually on staff with Cru. I was actually a freshman 10 years ago." The subsequent looks are reminiscent of the way you look at that small black object you find on your carpet. Is it a bug? Lint? Black jelly bean? Chocolate Chip? All you know is you don't know how to react properly...if it's a bug...scream! Squish it! But, if it's a chocolate chip...score!

Well, all that said, the reason I'm back to blogging for the night is because I've been keeping an ongoing list of all the ways I'm realizing I'm not in college anymore. These are signs that I'm getting older...or, "maturing".

1. I wear a bike helmet. Yes, this was the first sign that I was getting older. I've recently taken up cycling and really enjoy it. The selling point for me was the fact that I can ride my bike for hours and actually clear my mind and think. Many of my friends say they love running for that very reason, but my experience in running has been quite different. Usually the only thing I'm thinking is "Is this over yet? I know I was going to run for 30 minutes but 20 is probably ok, right? Man, I hate running." Those aren't quite the relaxing thoughts. Not to mention, I now have completely bit it not once, not twice, but THREE times on the same uneven sidewalk at the outskirts of my neighborhood. I've gone flying superman-style into a stranger's front yard, and the best part of all? They have actually been pulling into the driveway 2 times as I was falling. Seriously, what are the odds of that. Well, no worries. I just brushed myself off and kept running like a champ, leaving with only a couple bruises-my hand and my pride.

Anyway, in my old age I've decided I need to have the proper equipment for whatever hobby I've picked up. Swimming? Goggles, new lap suit, swim cap? Check, check, check. Biking? Well, I'm still as frugal as a college student, so I'm using an old bike lock, a water bottle I got for free at a Colt's game I won tickets to, and a borrowed bike helmet from my sweet friend who moved away and left me with it. And, I wear that helmet every time I go out on the bike. (I also named my bike "Star Jones". Why?

A.) I find it amusing to give things full names, much like Loralie Gilmore had a dog named "Paul Anka".

B.) She's a Trek, so her full name is "Star Jones Trek". Extra dork points? Yes.

In jr. high, high school, or college, I would have been caught brain-dead before I was seen in public with a helmet on. I would cruise all over Greensburg on my bike...across the bypass, down Lincoln and Main Streets, down to On Cue to pick up the latest "Big Bop" magazine. When my mom would ask me to sport the helmet for my safety, the helmet that matched my hunter green bike, I refused saying, "Cool kids don't wear helmets!". And, I had a point. Let's be honest here... no matter what trendy design, sleek shape, or ergonomic design the helmet has, it's still a helmet. Helmets are inherently dorky and there really is no getting around this. But, I've gotten to the point that I value my personal safety and health over my "coolness" factor. I wear that helmet biking through campus, through the village, and all over Muncie. I know I look like a huge dork, but, I really don't care. I'm also riding in lots of traffic and I've had several friends get hit by cars. I'm just not willing to chance it. And as I was riding around campus to the village to visit some friends, passing the cool college kids rocking their non-helmet look I realized...I'm getting older, aren't I?

Well, that's not the only reason I've felt old. And that brings us to reason #2.

2. I made a land-line reference the other day. I get to hang out with college students for a living and tell them about Jesus. It's really the best job in the world. And, I get the fun treat of getting to do ministry in the dorm I lived in and did ministry in for over 3 years while I was a student. Well, the other day I was in the basement of Lafollette meeting with a freshman girl and I really wanted to connect with her about being a freshman in the ghetto. I also think there is something about the beginning of a school year that makes me really nostalgic... reminiscing about the good old days when I, too, was a nervous and excited freshmen. Well, there I was with sweet Kennedy, talking about how I lived in my freshman year, probably getting asked if I was a junior, when I mentioned the perils of potluck roommates. Now, I had a great roommate and I really am grateful for her. However, I didn't know how to handle her boyfriend being in her room all the time. And to emphasize how frequently he was in our room, I may have said, "Yeah, he was in there so much that his mom would call our room to find him." And as I was saying that sentence, I realized a really important difference in generations. See, they don't have landlines in dorms anymore. No one calls the dorm room, no one has an answering machine that they spent hours recording the perfect "roommate message" that would make them seem both witty and worth dating. And it was that comment that solidified for not only the sweet freshman girl, but also my delightful first year intern, that I am from a different time. Since I was already in the hole, I decided to let them know that I didn't get a laptop until I graduated from college. This blew their minds!

The last reason I'll give you for tonight because I'm getting a little tired and I have a few pertinent plans is this.

3. Tonight my bstud girls invited me to go with them to a house full of single guys and I declined for the following reasons:

A.) It was 11:30pm and it seemed way to late to be going out again.

B.) All I wanted to do was put on my pj's, sit alone in my room, light my Slatkin & Co. pineapple mango candle, pop in "You've Got Mail", write a blog about being old, and respond to my eharmony matches.

So, there you go. I could write more posts about gray hair, being worried about people having proper heath insurance, calling my insurance agents (aka-my parents) about the coverage on a car before I borrowed my friends car for a trip to Nashville, TN, caring about my 403B plan, etc.

But, the truth is I'm growing up, and to be honest...I love it. I love feeling comfortable in my own skin, knowing who I am and what I like; not feeling like I have to go out late, even when I'm tired just to prove that I'm fun. See, I can just be the woman the Lord has created me to be...dorky, old and all. And, if I'm being honest, even though I feel the age gap sometimes, I'm still pretty young at heart. And my bstud girls assure me I'm not too lame or old.

what brings me back to blogging?

I know, I know. I haven't been much of a blogger since...well...STINT. First it was because I didn't feel like I had anything to write, then it was because I felt I didn't have enough time to write. I'm not sure if it's the nature of Christmas break, watching Julie & Julia, the comfort of the borrowed-Snuggie I'm wearing, or that I'm actually rested enough to string together some coherent thoughts, but look out blogging world, I'm back. But if we're being honest (some call it pessimistic, I just call it real) this may be the last post for another year or so.

Yes, I think it was the movie Julie&Julia that inspired me to blog. I decided if I were to blog again, I'd want to review movies. Because, well, I've been watching a lot of movies lately and I've realized I trust my friends' reviews of movies over those people who are paid to review movies. So, here's my attempt at being a movie critic. I mean, I did take a film class in college, so that makes me qualified, right?

The Blindside:
I'm going to be brutally honest. I looked forward to church all week because I had plans to see this movie after service. Praise the Lord for the 5 Buck Club and popcorn lunch. Nothing makes you feel more white trash than sneaking in your Burger King chicken nuggets, only to order the Large Mega Tub Combo with 2 Diet Cokes. (yes, this was the lunch I split with my friend, Sarah). Nothing makes you feel like more of a fatty fatty two-by-four like ordering a Large Mega Tub, and nothing makes you feel more like an oxymoron than ordering the Large Mega Tub Combo with Diet Coke. I am an Ellen Degeneres joke.

Nonetheless, the movie was everything I was looking for in a post-church Sunday afternoon activity. Better than a nap, The Blindside made my heart warm the entire film. And you know that part of the movie you know is coming and hate, but know is necessary so the ending is even sweeter? The part when it all hits the fan and you get really sad and angry, even though you know it all has to turn out all right? Well, two thumbs up, because that part was short and bearable. The Blindside makes me want to look outside my own community and love those less fortunate than I. It also makes me want to adopt a black adolescent, but I have a feeling I'd have better luck just dating one. Too much? All that said, I say see The Blindside in the 5 buck club. It's worth going to a theater for.

As for DVD Rentals, I Redboxed (yes, that's a verb, now) Julie&Julia and I have mixed feelings about it. There were times that I giggled in glee, and I definitely loved Meryl Streep's performance as Julia Child. She played it brillantly and I loved Julia more for it. However, I was a bit disturbed by the way Julie idolized Julia, taking it to a creepy level by saying how Julia would get her through, how she was always there for her, etc. Julia became her Jesus and it just made me feel uncomfortable. It did, however, provide great comic fodder for my roommate Elizabeth. As she headed home to PA, leaving me alone in Muncie, she reminded me, "If you ever get lonely, remember....Julia is always with you." Ridiculous! Also, the movie just went on a little too long. So what's my overall review: this is a great movie to rent if you have other things you can be multi-tasking with. If not, probably not worth your time.

So there you go, blogging world. My movie reviews. Hope you can all benefit from these incredible insights:).

so i've been enjoying some web videos that are not new, but get funnier every time i watch them. enjoy.

http://www.nbc.com/Saturday_Night_Live/video/clips/the-lawrence-welk-show/727501/

just a thought

i've just been recently catching up on some tv shows i've been missing out on the past month....namely the trifecta: 30 rock, the office and chuck. thank you, nbc. well done. if you're not watching these shows, you should change that immediately.

as i watched the bonus features of 30 rock, because i'm awesome like that, i happened upon a web dialogue taking place below. and a trend i've noticed with any sort of online discussion, whether it be looking for advice on how to download the latest pokemon template for your myspace page, or even how to best make chocolate chips cookies on all recipes.com, there seems to always be some sort of online scuffle going down when web discussion is involved.

and as i read the online trash talk, i began to wonder what kind of people were taking part in these conversations. i don't necessarily think it's the typically hostile or abrasive types. i think they get their fill in real life. no, i like to think that it is some quiet librarian, minding her p's and q's all day long, who comes home, takes down that bun, and then engages in what i can only deem as an online cage fight. and for some reason, that makes me chuckle a bit.

between that and the new bathroom publication, "fecal matters", i came up with today, i'm feeling like my old, creative self. and i'll let you know when "fecal matters" hits the stalls...i mean, stands.

East Asia Update

Yeah, I whipped that title up in 30 seconds. Creative Genius? Perhaps.

Although i don't have any fantastically hilarious stories to keep you laughing, I thought I'd share a little about my spring break trip to East Asia.

It all started at 3:30am Friday, March 6. I had gotten a solid hour of sleep before I joined a caravan to the Indianapolis airport. Giddy that I had the least amount of suitcases I've ever taken to East Asia, 1/3 or which were filled with goodies for other people, I crammed into a borrowed van with 5 of my best friends and hit the road, embarking on our adventure. And I'd like to thank the motorcycle man for his patriotic send-off on 465...decked in leather at 4:30 with a huge American flag flapping in the wind, he inadvertently escorted us all the way to the airport. And I'd be lying if I said we didn't break out into "America the Beautiful" AND "The Star-Spangeled Banner." Then we flew. And we flew. And then we flew some more. From Indy to Denver, to San Fran, to East Asia. And amazingly, although our flights were scheduled right after the other, and although there were mild delays, we made each flight, only having to wait 20 minutes before boarding the entire series. Needless to say, we cut it short, but we made it. On the international flight, which is always a bear...12 hours of straight flying, I scored an aisle seat across from Heather Harris with my roomie Kristin on my right side. The movie selection looked promising...Slumdog Millionaire, which I'd resigned I'd never see until it came to the Muncie Public Library because I'm a bit...how to say...frugal, The Express, a classic sports triumph movie, The Secret Life of Bees, and a few more I forget right now. It had all the makings of a great flight. So I watched Slumdog on the 1 inch screen provided for me with headphones that I think were bought on a Goodwill clearance rack, which I think it the only way to watch an Academy-approved film. And then hour 4 hit and I thought I was going to die of restless leg syndrome, if that's possible. So I grabbed Heather and we had a dance party in the back of the airplane while my friend Kate laughed at us.

Flash forward, we finally landed, got everyone situated, got the hotel, ate, slept, ate, then got on another 2hr plane ride to my beautiful Asian hometown. And as we boarded the bus and took a familiar drive from the airport to my side of the city, I was struck by how much it had changed. The dirt-covered mountains had grown just a shade greener than before. 10-story apartment complexes now stood tall in the sky where dirt huts had once been. And as we neared my old campus, I hardly recognized where I was. And all the change hit me when we pulled into the hotel we'd be staying at, which was not even a block from where I'd lived when I first went to EA. And when I left, it wasn't a hotel...it was a janky apartment complex. So much had changed, and I had not been there for it. And that was incredibly hard. Just like when I came back to the States after having been gone for 2 years and my friends had gotten married and had babies, Greensburg got (and lost) a Starbucks, my dad had gotten a new job, etc. So I mourned the loss of what once was by crying for about 15 minutes, then I got it together and went to the market. And that felt like home. Although it was a little cleaner that I remember before, meaning the animal carcasses that once hung on hooks in the open air were now behind little walls in the open air, it just felt right. My language came back as I began bartering for pineapples and bananas, and all felt right with the world.

And experiencing a culture like East Asia with people who are experiencing it for the first time is such a treat! It was great to see how the students and interns were seeing the city...how they found split pants, kids peeing on the street, open air markets, playing Frogger to cross the street, eating meat on a stick, riding in cabs that may have been trained by watching the movie Death Race, and the overall "differentness" of the East Asian city so hilarious and new. To me, it was like walking through the halls of my old high school. Familiar in setting, but so very, very different.

This is going much longer than I had anticipated, but overall, it was a great week. I was able to put some of my language skills to use to be helpful for the group, I had a blast with my team, I got to see my old team and meet a few new friends who are doing work there currently, I got to spend time with the STINTers, and I was blessed to meet up with some of my old East Asian friends, both Christian and non-Christian. I cherished the conversations I got to have with them. One particularly encouraging one was w/my Muslim friend. Through a series of events I hunted her down and went to her dorm room. And as I talked awkwardly with her and her 7 roommates (imagine how awkward it is after you haven't seen a friend for a couple years...then add cultural and language barriers and that is what I felt) we just mainly exchanged look s and as she stared at me with a dull gaze, which may have been because I had wakened her from her nap, or just because she was in pure shock, she said "I feel like I'm dreaming right now" which I found hopelessly adorable. And I so desperately wanted to see if she'd been thinking more about Christianity, to ask her if she had thought more about Jesus since I'd left her, but was prohibited because of the other 6-7 girls in the room. So I left about 15 minutes later, disappointed. But as I waited for another friend by the school gate I got a call from my sweet Muslim friend and she asked if she could come bring me a gift. So I stood by the school gate, snow coming down, and she brought me a little parting gift that she'd scrounged together in the 15 minutes we'd been apart. And then I realized...here is my opportunity to have a spiritual conversation. And I heard how she had been reading her Bible, and how these missionaries were sharing with her. They gave her some Christian books to read and at first she just read them because she wanted to see the differences between Christianity and Islam, but something happened in her heart and she saw how they could apply to her personally. She realized the information was good for her life. And as she said these words, my heart lept with joy as I realized the goodness of the Lord. He used me to plant the seed for 3 years ago. And I left not knowing what would happen with that seed, or how effective I'd been. Then I realized...it really is the Lord who pursues and changes hearts. And He can choose to let me see the fruit of my labor, or He can allow someone else the change to see the fruit. But ultimately, it was His job to make the fruit grow. And He cares for my Muslim friend, He cares for all my friends in East Asia, and He is truly at work there. And the cool thing is that He's at work in my heart, too.

So, I have some funny stories I could share, and may share at some later time, but overall, the trip confirmed a few things for me.

1. I still love East Asia, but maybe not in the way I used to.
2. God is at work there.
3. I am not there right now.
4. I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
5. I love getting hour-long full body massages for $5.

I finally found my sugar daddy!

So I was reading my Bible in Panera last Thursday when this older gentleman approached me and initiated a conversation.

Him: "I see you're reading your Bible."
Me: "Yes, yes I am" glancing at him with a furrowed brow.
Him: "So how do you feel about Jesus?"
Me: The brow furrows higher. "Well, I like him so much I made a living out of telling people about him."
Him: "Oh, what do you do?"
Me: "I work with a campus organization called CRU. Are you familiar with it?"
Him: "I am. In fact, I was on the original team that funded the ministry. Do you happen to need any financial support?"
Me: Unbelieving I look at him and reply, "In fact, I need $400/month."
Then he pulled out a check book and finished me off right then and there.

Sound unbelievable? Well, that's because it's a complete lie. I wish I had this ridiculous tale to tell about how all my financial support came in. Actually, I wish I could just remember how it all came in. All I know is that I was trying to convince my support coach to let me go to East Asia for spring break and then next thing I know I was going to East Asia and I was done with support. And now I'm "on campus" with my head still spinning around trying to catch my breath and "get" what just happened.

I am so grateful for all the people who made sacrifices to financially support the ministry I get to be a part of at Ball State and am amazed at the Lord's provision. Although I'm not sure why He chose the timing He did, I trust that He's going to be the one to catch me up to speed.

So this week I'm getting adusted to full-time ministry in the States and I'm going to the Every Student Conference (formerly Life Options) in Indianapolis (Katie, Emily, want to hang out???)

Music recommendation of the day:
Brooke Fraser-the entire Albertine album. Her lyrics are pure poetry and the vocals are to die for.