Never underestimate those who are loyal to you though. It’s easy to grow complacent, dependent on this loyalty. To forget the root of it as a shared vision and instead as a potted plant… something that is just there when you expect it to be. Understanding loyalty, and those who give it to you, is core to building amazing things from it. Taking it for granted burns the loyalty away and generally creates lifelong enemies in the process. 
- Kayfabe 

I have told this story to many of you about my first workplace ... and for those of you who may have not entirely believed me.  Here it is.  However, he seems to have removed the ending of the story... where he stabs a whole near the bottom end/side of the bottle before leaving for the night.  He, or someone.  :/

"...And for every day you paint the war, take a week and paint the beauty, the color, the shape of the landscape you’re marching towards.  Everyone knows what you’re against; show them what you’re for." 

- Andrea Gibson, Evolution

What a beautiful reminder.  Thank you, Esther.  

A little different than my normal style, but so many beautiful little details.  :) 

I think I'm having a quarter life crisis.  Does that happen?  I started bawling on my boyfriend last Friday night.  When we showed up an hour late, my roommate could tell what had kept us.  :/  I suddenly dislike blogs (except of those owned by my friends - I sincerely like those - and you all are hardly blogging lol).  I have no desire to grow my career into anything involving "social media" or marketing unless of a very specific role.  In fact, I feel like we are so over-saturated with "social media" and blogs full of cotton-candy equivalent of creativity that I want to shut mine down for fear of contributing.

I don't know what I want to do with my life suddenly.  I feel I'm stuck.  And though I have the most wonderful boyfriend who has twice now asked me in the most sincere and caring terms for "a story" as a gift... I can't seem to write a darn thing.  Nor do I really even know if I feel like writing.

I feel desperate to create.  [Something tangible.]  And I feel -100% creative.

I feel like my life is about to change - has to change, drastically - or I'll go truly, bloody, mad.  But I don't have the faintest idea how to change it.  I just have to wait.  Be patient.  Keep being patient.  Keep seeking.

Quarter life crisis.

[Linda, I know, Joseph.  Trust me, he's on my mind.]

I'm going to push through.  And I'm going to write.  Because it is one thing I know for certain: I was born to write.  If only I could just discover the how, the where, and the who is paying me to do it.  Because I feel I've been sitting in this darn cold holding cell for a year now.  And before this one, there were others.

There are probably some, but not many that I have known, feelings better than that of knowing a dear friend who has been far away will soon be near again.   That cherished memories will have new laughs, new books, and new cups of hot coffee.  That once again, you'll have a good reason to be late from lunch.  Instead, you will be climbing up-hill with your arms full of treasures from the antique mines of Pike Place.  Making off like pack mice in a busy world.  And you won't be alone.

Even if it cannot last.

Why is no one blogging???!! 

Dream Room. 

Didn't fail
at mumsy's Honey Baked Chicken last night.

Though, I think each of us girls learned to make that one around 13.  

I tried making homemade spaghetti like my mom's last night.  I failed.  Pretty disappointing to taste "bland" after sauteing fresh garlic, onions and mushrooms.  I have a lot to learn my friends.  A lot to learn.   

On a similar note, my boss asked me if I'd ever used AllRecipes.com.  That was an unexpected conversation for the two of us to have.  Turns out he's a big spaghetti fan.  And he had some good suggestions.  Only weird if you know him. 

And the dream home photos continue. 

A little past "25" but I just knocked off one more of my goals today.  :)  

Guess who opened an IRA. 

This girl.  Finally.

My Beau makes the best old fashioned.  

It's so good, I don't even care to order them any more... at any restaurant.  

That's the downfall.  Most of the cocktails I taste these days are his, 

or they're wanting. 

I know you are mocking me right now, Kristin.  

But you have to admit that it's true. 

Most of you know, or have gathered that I've been visiting Bethany for a few months now.  I love so many things about it, and miss so many things from the church in which I've grown up.  I've yet to feel at "home" and wonder if I ever will at a church I didn't grow up in.  I've yet to build deep friendships at Bethany, or even shallow friendships for that matter.  :/

The friendships I do have there, I walked in with the first day.  I'm hoping that changes this year, but either way, I completely feel lead in where I am and I cannot tell you how much the sermons have been impacting how I see and live my life.  Or at least how I see me living my life.  I see a lot I don't like. I am in desperate need of some change.  

Pastor Richard began a new series on Intimacy with the new year.  Intimacy in relationships on all levels.  Last week, he began breaking down biblical examples of community and friendships within the church.  How it was meant to be - lending, giving, forgiving without measure or holding back.  As the strong, holding up the weak.  And then, being weak and allowing others to help us up when they've grown strong.  

We might get tired of helping others, but ultimately, it's the role we all choose.  We like to be the strong.  And we hate to be the weak.  We hate to share our weak thoughts.  We hate to show our weak needs.

All the while forgetting that He chose to work through flesh and blood on this earth, and while we know we are weak and He is strong - we dare not accept that the way to accessing His strength might be the humble route of letting our friends be strong.  

When we see others in need we hold back enough to ensure we won't become weak.  We'll do a lot in fact to ensure we don't have to become weak... or appear weak.  

I find myself hungering more and more for those relationships who've let me be weak, and who let me be strong.  Oddly enough, many of them are also the friendships who are becoming more and more out of my usual daily schedule.  They aren't convenient by any standard.  Most of them aren't next to me on Sunday, across the street any more, or even a short drive.  I can feel how every current would just pull me out and off if I don't keep calling, scheduling, and intentionally choosing to go deep. 

Pastor Richard gave an example that has long been a story in my mind - CS Lewis's description of hell in The Great Divorce.  According to Lewis's telling, hell is where we get everything we desire, at the expense of intimacy with those we love.  And it looks terrifying just like the place we live right now.  This life seems designed to stretch us further and further apart from one another, and it takes a fight to hold fast to real relationships.  

I refuse to go far from those who are deep. 

"Every object tells a story if you know how to read it."
- Henry Ford

We watched Objectified this weekend, and I highly recommend it.  I'm obsessed with stories, so naturally I enjoyed a film that could be argued as a guide for how to read stories in the every day objects around you.

1/20

Just knocking on doors.   

Why don’t people “pretend” once they become adults?  I know why we shouldn’t live in self-deception, where we convince ourselves of untrue things.  And I know how dangerous it can be to waste our lives wishing for things we don’t have.  But, remember when we were kids and we’d pretend we were cowboys or pioneers on a long trail?  We’d stay there all day.  We’d face surprise attacks, droughts, swamps, rattlers.  We’d carry one another through, revive ourselves with secret medicines.  The next day, we’d be a traveling circus.  An emergency room in a busy hospital facing some major epidemic!  

I let myself pretend this morning.  Intentionally, I just pretended how life was, where I was, who was around me.  And while I was still me, and I was still writing, the smile on my face grew and the space inside my mind seemed to swell within seconds. It wasn’t in order to force myself to create.  It was just for the sake of pretending; for the sake of fun.  Maybe it had something to do with scheming about what I’ll do with Fin when she gets here – what I’ll play with “my littlest best friend.”  I’m not sure.

But why is it we stop pretending?  And does it have to take the approaching visit of a small child to make us remember how?  Why is it adults forget how to play – why do we become increasingly focused on the stuff around us?  Imagination becomes a tool, a skill used for work and production, rather than a gift to enjoy.  I'm not sure that's wrong, I'm just sure it's not what I prefer.  I, for one, like to play.

I had a realization the other day.  One of those moments where pieces of information you've always had, suddenly fall into place beside one another and a new thought clicks into your mind.  My boyfriend hates doing the dishes.  Haaaaaaates.  If I want to bless him, I head straight to his sink.  (He also hasn't had a dishwasher since I met him.)  I learned this about him sometime last spring.  

But months before, back last January, I spent well over an hour doing dishes beside a certain bearded man.  We left our friend's house around 3am and there wasn't a dirty dish left in the house.  Funny the things you catch looking back.  

Glad he decided to wash dishes that night with a certain girl.  ;)  (Not to mention, I think he ended up saving himself hours of dishwashing in the long run.)  

*** Sidenote:  Last night that fella made dinner at my place for himself, me and Roomie and washed all the dishes.  All while fixing my computer for me. :) :) :)  I think I'll check out his sink tonight.  

It is crystal clear outside this morning, and I'm staring at the Olympic Mountains I now feel are close friends. We've talked together, sat in silence, sat in fear, celebrated and overcome together.  Yes, I'd call them my good friends if I am not yet theirs.

I have had many wonderful things to tell and show you about my birthday... but I woke up quite sick Monday morning and most of my energy has gone to surviving the hours of work I can, and then sleeping in hopes of kicking this cold before it fully develops into what half of my office now has.  This has been one of the longest weeks.  "Finally Friday" only begins to tell just how long.  Beau has loved it.  I have not.  But, looking back, I must agree with him that we have accomplished quite a lot in the end.

A trip to the grocery store Monday evening told me perhaps this cold/ flu epidemic is wider than my office.  The empty shelves where chicken noodle soup and NyQuil should have been.

I don't mind that the cold finally caught me, I'm just grateful it held out until Monday to unleash itself on me.  Friday, I could feel it in my chest and head.... just that odd dry airy feeling and shortness of breath. I was worried.  I cancelled on my evening plans and cuddled up in bed right after work.  I was praying I'd be well enough when I woke up to enjoy whatever plans would require snow clothes.

It worked.  I felt quite well when I woke up.  Before leaving my house, I was given my "unlimited Instagram gift" and then, moments later, a giant box wrapped up with newspapers.  I'd torn into it and found these: my new snowshoes.  John has a pair and has talked about how he really enjoys it - I'd asked to come along sometime.

There was some schedule that had to be kept and he rushed me out the door, off to Milstead (our favorite coffee shop) and on our way to downtown.  By then, I knew we had a ferry to catch.  I think he probably told me, but if not, I'd guessed.

We boarded for Bainbridge Island and all the while Beau just kept commenting "Isn't it so weird that we are going snow shoeing on an Island?  Bainbridge Island, weird huh?"  He said it so many times in his teasing tone that I threatened to hurt him.  Eventually he told me where we were heading - The Olympic National Forest!  (See my "25 Goals for 25").  :)

We stopped for more coffee at Pegasus and were back on the road for a few more hours.  Eventually, we wound our way up a terrifying road to Hurricane Ridge.  Strapped on our snowshoes and headed out.  By this point, it was already 2:30 and we didn't have much time until dusk.  But what a lovely time it was!!  Looking forward to more snowshoeing adventures with my Beau (hopefully with less scary drives to them?  please?).

When we returned to Seattle, we finished the night with some delicious pizza and a bottle of red wine we've been holding onto since basically our start.  Last summer, we'd quite literally stumbled upon a wine tasting room in Fremont (after running out of gas on his bike).  After running into an old friend of John's there, and meeting the winemaker, we walked out with two signed bottles.  We've been waiting for a special dinner to open them.  The first of the two did not disappoint.  Just like the entire day.

The next day, we had our family dinner to celebrate and my mom had a balloon, presents wrapped in birthday paper (which is exciting for those of us who have birthdays right around Christmas).  They even made me a cake and sang happy birthday.   All in all, it was a wonderful, wonderful birthday weekend.  Thank you to all of you who helped sweeten it with messages and wishes.  Love you all.

Received an email today entitled, "Packing list for Saturday".
(which if you don't know - is my birthday!) Woohoo!

The contents of the email were as follows:

Pack this crap.  Seriously: 

1)  Water bottle
2)  Goretex hiking boots
3)  Ski jacket
4)  Warm socks, maybe two pairs
5)  Warm gloves for snow
6)  Hat / ear covers
7)  Snow pants?  Do you have them?
8)  Clean, comfy change of dry clothes
9)  Scarf, just in case
10) long underwear
11) pillow
12) Phone charger for the car? 

Those are the necessities I can think of so far.  I'll let you know if I think of anything else!

Happy Birthday tomorrow, Love!
Boyfriend.

I was told it could be strenuous, or relaxing, based on what I feel up to.... So it's off to an early bed time!  Goodnight friends.  When I wake, I'll be 26 years old.  Dear Lord Almighty!! 

Well 2013, you are looking pretty dang nice.  A little quieter, perhaps kinder. You aren't as pushy as 2012, but I don't mind that at all.  I like your pace.

We kicked off the new year with some friends in Ballard/ Wallingford.  Dinner at Bastille, cocktails at Mal's and a brisk champagne walk toward the lake to catch the fireworks at the Space Needle.  It was beautiful.  I didn't think I'd get to see my roomie, but as we ran into my apartment for more layers after dinner, we found her in the kitchen making tea.  Sickness had sorted her plans a bit and with a little coercion she was running out the door with us minutes later.  

We called the night fairly early (for it being new years).  The next morning we had breakfast plans and we wanted to be ready.  Elise, Jeff, Auri, Ty & Elsa all joined us for the first official "hosting" at John's place.  We'd worked hard over the weekend to prepare - planning, shopping, buying & building a table.  But somehow we still weren't quite ready as our friends began to arrive.  That seems to be the way it goes.  And thankfully, with friends, it's almost better that way.  Elise jumped in and started frying bacon. Auri wandered in and out of the kitchen, round our legs.  She picked out "my special seat" and "John's seat."  She didn't mind where the rest of us sat so much. 

( John's fridge also got a bit "prettier" )

I love this girl and especially how she gets a certain look on her face.  She locks someone in, walks right over to them, smiles and cuddles up.  My favorite is when it's me, but no matter who her 'target' is it's always a joy to see her loving on all her Aunties and Uncles.  She is a delight and a joy so much bigger than her tiny little frame.  We were all playing games and chatting when she found her way to the floor right between Elsa and I.  She put one hand on each of our knees and she just sat there with the girls, entirely content. I love her. And I love how her giggles can fill up a room.  

After hours of food, coffee, laughing and games we said our goodbyes.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing, with sweat pants and cold cereal.  Family phone calls and well wishes.  A hunt for an open ice cream place, and eventually a movie with my parents.  John was shocked that I insisted we stay in our sweats for the movie.  As we walked out of the theatre he informed me with a smile, "I think you've made a monster.  I love wearing my sweats to movies!"  I may be ruining this man.  8 months ago he said something like, "I'm not really a sweat pants sort of guy."  He eventually dug up a pair somewhere.  Things have changed since then.  I hope he forgives me one day. : )