Punk's Prose

My Kind of Salad

2011-06-22T10:05:00.000-07:00

You should make this today. It's so good that I am emerging from a 6-month blog hiatus to tell the world about it.

From A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg of Orangette

1/2 lb fresh cherries, halved and pitted
6 oz "rustic" bread, preferably day old (I used a sourdough baguette the day I bought it and it was lovely)
Olive oil
1/8 tsp crushed/pressed garlic (or more if you love garlic like I do)
Balsamic vinegar
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
Goat cheese
Arugula

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Tear the bread into bite-sized chunks, spread onto a cookie sheet and drizzle with olive oil. Bake for 8-10 minutes or until lightly toasted and golden in some places.

Meanwhile, place 1/3 of the cherries into a small bowl and smash them enough to release their juices.

When the bread is finished and still hot, place it in a large bowl and toss with garlic. Let it cool slightly, then add the cherres (both smashed and whole) and toss again. Drizzle with 2 tsp. vinegar, 1 Tblsp. olive oil, and a pinch or two of salt and toss.

Taste and add more vinegar, oil, or salt, depending on what your taste buds tell you. Add two large handfuls of arugula and toss again. Sprinkle with crumbled goat cheese and finish off with a few grinds of the pepper mill.

Eat!

A Less Fertile Me

2010-12-07T10:23:00.000-08:00

I heard that a woman's fertility drops 30% at the age of 27. If this is true, then today I just received a pretty significant gift!

27...that feels old now, but I'm sure in five years I'll think back to how young and fine-line-and-wrinkle-free I was at this time.

I took off work yesterday and spent a few hours with some of my girlfriends in the morning. They threw a breakfast b-day party for me at one of their homes. It was lovely to hang out with them at this time of day, and to "enter their world."

A world of utter chaos.

There were a total of 8 children there, ranging from 6 days to 4 years old. Now granted, these friends don't usually spend their days together with all of their children hanging out in one large, unruly jumble. So while I was completely overwhelmed by all of the kiddos, I understand that it wasn't a normal "day in the life" for these mothers.

In the midst of the joy that yesterday brought me - to spend time with dear friends and their beautiful, fun, bundles-of-energy kiddos - I realized that I am increasingly becoming more of an outsider in regards to the "mom club." This year one of my best friends (with whom I spend a lot of time) adopted a baby, and next year my sister will have her first. Every time I log onto Facebook, about 60% of my friends' posts have to do with pregnancy or motherhood. Joel and I are one of the few couples we know who are childless. It's just a part of this stage of life. But not yet OUR lives.

Last night was a tough night for me. I was somewhat depressed and mopey, cried a bit, tried to explain all of my emotions to Joel. I'm not even sure what those emotions are, really. I just know I feel more lonely these days than I ever have. The truth is, no matter how hard my friends try not to talk "mom talk," that's their world. Their kids are what they care most about, what comprise their hearts' and minds' attention and fill the hours of their days - as they should be! And I'm happy for them, and I love their children, I do. But although we connect on other levels and share other interests, I feel different. Maybe it's a self-imposing feeling...maybe they don't view me differently at all. Yet I've seen it happen time and again: As soon as another friend has her first child, or even becomes pregnant, she enters "the circle." That exclusive club that no woman can really understand until she crosses over as well.

Honestly, my personal goals and milestones for Year 27 have no room for motherhood: I am celebrating my 5-year anniversary in April. Running several long-distance races, including a marathon in October. Working my butt off at a full-time job and freelance writing on the side. Decorating my new home room by room. Drinking lots of wine. Shocker? Ha. So with all of these goals and hobbies and personal endeavors, it bothers me that I am bothered by the fact that I'm not part of the club.

I pray for proper perspective in all of this - that I let go of my inclinations for self-pity, that I learn to better love my friends who are mothers, and that I relish the NOW for me. Not sure what all of this looks like, but I guess that's just part of life and growth and change.

So here's to Year 27 - whatever it may hold.

This fall...

2010-11-09T12:36:00.000-08:00

We warmed our home

Ran a 200-mile relay race

Went on a weekend trip to Charlotte with good friends

Celebrated the Wongs with some crazy TU peeps

Celebrated my dear friend Sam's bday at Bobby McKey's in National Harbor

Found out I am going to be an aunt!!!

(P.S. I just blogged twice in a day. PDubs would be proud.)

....five months later....

2010-09-17T12:22:00.000-07:00

Hand check! Who still reads this blog??? Probably no one. Because let's face it, I'm not a good blogger. A recent Pioneer Woman blog post told me that a good blogger nurtures her blog regulary...at least daily, in fact. Maybe the reason I'm not writing is because I waste too much time reading other blogs? But there's just so many good ones out there! (I realize I read a lot of cooking/baking blogs. Don't judge.)

Can I start over? Can we forget about this five month period of silence? I believe in redemption. So let's redeem this blog. (For today.)

So...we bought a house this summer! House shopping, buying, closing, packing, painting, moving, and organizing consumed my entire summer, so there you have it! You're up to speed on my life. That was easy. Here's some pictures (another piece of blogging advice from PDubs that I am working on - always incorporate photos!)

Living room before

Kitchen before

Living room after

Joel painting the kitchen

I LOVE my house. The many windows (including the one above my sink in the kitchen - something I've always wanted), hardwood floors, my big kitchen, two full baths so Joel and I can get ready at the same time, a small yard that only requires five minutes of attention from a weedwacker, our back deck and sweet patio, colorful/homey painted walls, a big laundry room, plenty of storage area...these are a few of my favorite things. :) It felt like a long process at the time, but now that it's over and we're settled in our new abode, I realize that going from deciding to look for a house to moving into one in three months is really no time at all.

We had a ton of help - from cleaning to painting to moving to decorating ideas...I realized over the past few months that I have the best friends and family! I also realized that I don't want to move again in a really long time. And we only moved 1/4 mile down the street! Easy peezy...ish.

Now that we've lived on Stallion Court for two months, it finally feels like home. I'm not gonna lie, the first month was weird. I was trying to get into a new routine, trying to figure out which switches operated which lights, trying to remember where I put my mixing bowls, and realizing that adding several flights of stairs into the mix means that sometimes enduring thirst is a better option than getting out of bed for a glass of water at 3 a.m...

I feel full and rich and happy these days. I am glad that Virginia has become home, that we have made friends here who have become family, that we can sink our roots in a little deeper and enjoy this new chapter of life and home ownership...and many a trip to Lowe's.

Life is Meaningless

2010-05-30T06:09:00.000-07:00

"Again I looked and saw all the oppression that was taking place under the sun: I saw the tears of the oppressed - and they have no comforter; power was on the side of their oppressors - and they have no comforter." --Ecclesiastes 4:1

What an incredibly difficult weekend this has been. And I have only been present in the midst of a friend's heart-wrenching grief. I have seen realities of life that I never knew until now, and I have asked questions that I never considered before.

Ecclesiastes has been bread and water to me this morning. I used to find chapters or passages from the book somewhat humorous and saw it as an "ecclectic" piece of Scripture. Now I find it real. Now I feel it resonating. Now I understand it as wisdom that gives one a ladder to cling to amdist the absurdity of life.

I have been angry, full of doubt, flung questions such as, "WHY?!?" many times over the past 48 hours. Yet my confidence in God and my awareness of his love for me, for humanity, for my dear friend hasn't wavered. Is this a test? I don't think so. I think it is just a symptom of the world in which we live. Clearly, it is a broken world. Yet beauty can arise still.

Maybe love in the midst of suffering is the most beautiful kind. Hope in the mist of despair, friendship in the abyss of grief, brief laughter in the throes of sorrow.

I believe there is always hope for healing and that every situation in this absurd life on earth is a chance for redemption. I am made more deeply aware of what living life is really all about the older I get, the more evil, grief, and unfairness I see:

"There is something else meaningless that occurs on this earth: righteous men who get what the wicked deserve, and wicked men who get what the righteous deserve. This too, I say, is meaningless. So I commend the enjoyment of life, because nothing is better for a man under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad. Then joy will accompany him in his work all the days of the life God has given him under the sun...

No one can comprehend what goes on under the sun. Despite all his efforts to search it out, man cannot discover its meaning. Even if a wise man claims he knows, he really cannot comprehend it."

Possessed by Truth

2010-03-29T12:57:00.000-07:00

My brother forwarded this article to me a couple of days ago. My sister posted it on her FB wall. I would like to continue the family fun and share it here. It really resonates with me. What do you think?

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jon-foreman/possessed-by-truth_b_515051.html?ref=fb&src=sp

I'm an Irish Lass at Heart

2010-03-16T09:05:00.001-07:00

I love St. Patrick's Day! My affinity for this holiday began five years ago, when I spent four months in Ireland for a study abroad program. The country's scenery is breathtaking, its people charming, and its culture and history so rich. Joel and I talk about taking a trip to the Emerald Isle together...someday.

Every year since I was married, I've made a point to recognize St. Patty's day in some way. I remember the first year I was just learning how to cook, so it took me an entire day to make Guinness stew, soda bread, and banoffi pie. Since then I've scaled down a bit, and I reached an all-time low last year when our celebration consisted of adding green food coloring to light beer. For shame! The Irish would be apalled.

This year, however, I have a two-part celebration in the works. Tonight I am making an Irish lamb stew and of course, the traditional Irish soda bread - my favorite. I also made sure to stock the frig with the real Irish brew, hopefully redeeming my "sin" from last year...

Tomorrow I'm leaving work early with some co-workers to enjoy an evening at one of the many Irish pubs in Old Town Alexandria (where I work) and toast to the Irish! Really, I wish I were back in Dublin watching the parade, and walking in St. Stephen's Green or strolling down Grafton Street. But until I return, I will do my best to keep my affection and fond memories for Ireland alive.

So cheers to St. Patrick's Day, to Ireland, and to any reason at all to celebrate life! :)

A Woman's Place

2010-03-10T10:26:00.000-08:00

My friend Kelly, who writes over here, sent me this link today about a woman's place, and it got me thinking. So much so that I'd love some feedback from all the women reading now. (Men can chime in, too.) What are your thoughts, opinions, personal experiences?

Thanks, in advance, for sharing.

It's a New Dawn. It's a New Day...

2010-02-24T07:25:00.000-08:00

...and I'm feeling fine.

Change seems to be the norm, and I am learning to embrace it. I have new eyes and a new (used) car! All within one weekend, I traded in my bad corneas for a newly lasered pair, and my '99 Toyota Camry (Little Green) for an '07 Hyundai Sonata. I may have cried all the way to the dealership during my final ride with Little Green. We have been together for 7 years. We endured endless 8.5 hour trips from Pa to Indiana and back during my college years. He stuck by my side during the biggest year of transition in my life, when I moved to NoVa after I graduated, got married, and started a new job. He comforted me as I learned to endure the insane DC metro traffic. He was my companion during many a panic attack. He may even have enabled a make-out session or two back in the day... ;) And although he started getting quite expensive with all of the new timing belts and oil issues, I still loved him. And he will always hold a special place in my heart.

(Okay, enough about my strange attachment to a hunk of metal...)

Perhaps all of this "newness" in my life is what has me thinking about spring. It's only 24 days away! Although the snow drama queens (i.e., meterologists) are getting their panties in a wad about the possible 2 to 4 inches tomorrow, and the Farmer's Almanac (which apparently has been "spot on!" all winter) is predicting 30 more inches in March, to me, spring is right around the corner. My favorite season of the year, followed by my second favorite season of the year. I am ready to say good-bye to my self-diagnosed Seasonal Affective Disorder and hello to sunshine, long days, balcony time, flip flops, tanned skin, and the color green.

As much as I realize the pros of each season, and am glad I live in a place where I can experience each season's unique qualities, I am THRILLED to shut the door on winter. And to all those who love cold weather and snow, I say (with the utmost respect), "It's my time to shine!" :)

Funk

2010-01-26T10:52:00.000-08:00

I'm in a funk...

Why? I do not know. For the past few weeks - since the holidays, really - I have felt gloomy and sad. I have withdrawn from people partly because I don't want to rub any of my negative energy off on others, and partly because I am easily irritable and annoyed these days. It just seems easier to retreat inside myself, put on a smile when necessary, and keep trudging along.

My poor husband has to deal with my insane mood swings on a daily basis. Thankfully, not much gets him down. He is steady and a rock for me.

When I think about all of the GOOD STUFF in my life - the relationships, gifts, provisions, comforts, and opportunities - I am at a loss for the WHYS behind this funk. And not even my usual "simple pleasure sources" - exercise, a good book, or a glass of wine - are doing much for me these days.

And I get angry when I am so self-focused and allow my lows to dictate my attitude and perspective. When there are so many people around me - so many nations - in REAL dispair. God, forgive me.

So I will press on. I will think of spring, sunshine, warmth, and flip flops. I will keep running and praying. I will bake something new. I will read another good book. I will sample my way through Kevin Zraly's Windows On the World. And until this gray cloud lifts and the fog dissipates, I will continue to fix my heart on the truest source of joy I've ever known.

Dear Christians

2010-01-14T14:15:00.000-08:00

If you don't have anything Christlike to say, please, for God's sake, shut your mouth.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/01/13/AR2010011303898.html

Resolutions

2010-01-05T09:54:00.001-08:00

I am not a big fan of New Year's resolutions. Never have been. In fact, something about the hype that many Americans pour into the turning of the calendar year makes me twitch.

It's not that I don't believe in self-reflection, goal-setting or the possibility of personal growth and change. Quite the opposite, in fact. I consider these disciplines to be markers of who I am and how I view the world. Which is why I think yearly resolutions make me cringe. They seem so temporal, fleeting, and cliche.

Not to say that periods of fasting and abstaining or new commitments are not good things. It's just the commercialized, get-on-the-bandwagon, all-hands-on-deck mania that peeters out by February 15 (if you're lucky) that drives me crazy.

This year is different, too, because for the past few months I have been intentionally working on turning my focus from myself to more important matters. I mean, I know I'm important, but really! It's time to get over me! ;) For too long I've obsessed about things that don't matter, I've wasted hours of thought, effort, anxiety, and compulsions to maintain personal standards that are unbalanced and borderline sick. For these reasons, I also think resolutions frustrate me - because they remind me of the parts of me that I long to let go.

So while most people will be dedicating more time to the gym, saying no to sweets, and trying to spend less money, I am going to (attempt to) take it easy. I am going to work hard at chilling out. I am going to pray for proper perspective and to see others, really see them. And do. Not just talk about and believe in, but act. So help me God.

You are My Reason

2009-10-26T14:17:00.001-07:00

I took a walk yesterday. I wanted to spend some focused time in meditation and prayer, and what better place to do it than in the midst of autumn's beauty? We have a marina near our home, accessible by a trail through a patch of woods. Yesterday was the perfect fall day for me: low 60's, sunny, and the leaves were colorful and vibrant.

I always "overflow" in times like these, when my senses are acutely aware of nature's glory around me. To me, this glory is a manifestation of its maker's beauty. And I saw Him everywhere yesterday. Which made me think, "Does He have a favorite season?"

As I sat on the dock of the marina and watched the trees' reflection shimmer on the surface of the lake, I did some of my own reflecting. Life is different for me these days. I am different from who I was a year ago. And life will keep changing, just as I will keep growing. But the one common element, the one binding thread that ties it all together is Him. I see Him glorifying Himself all around me, through the beauty of nature, time spent with a friend, my husband's washing my car on his day off, the story of a co-worker delivering food for those in need.

I realized that my purpose in this ever-changing life is to simply join Him in glorifying Himself. To love Him and love others with wild abandon. THAT feels so fulfilling, so satisfying, so right.

Flutastic!

2009-10-23T09:55:00.000-07:00

I have been battling the flu this week. No, not H1N1. Just good ole' "influenza A." I started getting a sore throat last Friday night, but chalked it up to the cigar I had smoked while hanging out with some friends around their chimnea in the chilly fall temps. The next morning that sore throat developed into somewhat of a cough, but of course that didn't stop me from running 7 miles in the cold rain. *Note: I do not consider this dedication to exercise to be completely healthy and do not encourage anyone to follow my crazy lead.

Saturday I went to bed with chills and a fever, and Sunday I woke up SICK-O. Poor Joel ran to CVS at o'dark thirty in search of relief for me in the form of NyQuil. I spent the day sleeping. Even the thought of getting a warm bath was exhausting.

The next day as I made my way to my doctor to make sure I didn't have the ominous H1N1, I felt somewhat better. That is, until I entered the lobby of the doctor's office. It smelled as if twenty diapers had exploded. As I took my place among the dozen or so other sickos, I pulled my coat over my nose and mouth, in fear of catching whatever virus or infection had been the catalyst for that rancid odor. My name was called rather quickly, surprisingly, and I made my way back to the tiny examining room where I had flashbacks of my last visit, when I was prescribed Zooloft by the 20-something doctor who I knew for less than 5 minutes before he told me I had an "aversion to talking about my feelings." Yes maybe that's true: I don't make a habit of bearing my soul to douchebag physicans who think handing over anti-anxiety and anti-depressant medication without knowing anything about me, my life, or my medical history is a good idea.

*Deep breath.

Well this time around I got another doctor. The third one I have tried at this office, as I have yet to meet one who doesn't make me feel like less of a human begin when I leave. I was hoping the sweet, young physician who shook my hand and introduced herself would be "the one." Alas. That initial courtesy turned out to be just that. The remaining 3 minutes she was in the room consisted of her GLANCING in my ears, nose, and throat, EAVESDROPPING on the sounds in my heart and lungs, and plunging Q-tips up my nose to get some goodies to send to the lab. I don't even think my dear blood pressure got any TLC this time. The visit ended with, "Well we don't know what you have, so take these anti-flu meds just in case. The culture results will be back in 3 days. Do you have any questions?" As she's walking out the door. Seriously?!? I ended up asking the CVS pharmacist some questions, since my doctor had sent the very clear signal that she was much too busy to concern herself with me.

I need a new doctor, obviously. I need to find someone with whom I can develop a relationship, feel comfortable, and trust. Is that too much to ask? I'm not willing to pay any more for health insurance to knock up my current HMO to the more expensive plan. I pay more than enough as it is for co-pays and a monthly birth control prescription (or should I say birth control BILL), not to mention what is deducted from my pay every two weeks. The remaining doctors who take my plan (which are few) are located considerably further from home than I would like to travel, especially if I am super ill or have a routine appointment in the middle of the day. I know maybe these factors are trivial compared to finding good medical care, but it frustrates me that ANY practice would accept such impersonal and toolbagish doctors. And not just one rotten apple. THREE. I'm sure if I keep going, I'll meet a few more.

I'm frustrated. And my lab test results - back in 3 days? Try 5. AFTER I call and harass them for the verdict several times.

But, no, our healthcare system is fine ya'all. Just. fine.

Marriage Share

2009-10-15T08:52:00.000-07:00

I posted the following as a note on Facebook about a month ago. My brother suggested this as a potential blog entry. Since I am experiencing "blogger's block" this week, I think I'll follow his advice. After reading over the answers that I wrote only 6 weeks ago, I can't believe how many changes - both big and little - have occurred since then.

1. What are your middle names? Rebekah and David

2. How long have you been together? Began "dating" 10 years ago when I was merely 15 years old and have been married for 3 1/2 years.

3. How long did you know each other before you started dating? knew each other for 3 years, were friends for about 2

4. Who asked who out? He wrote me a letter expressing how he felt - so he made the first move. Then we had an awkward car ride home from youth group one night, during which nothing much was said...but somehow from that point on we began our journey as Ann and Joel.

5. Whose siblings do you see the most? Ann's

6. Do you have any children together? no

7. What about pets? nope...we almost bought a Boston Terrier about two years ago. But Joel advised that I wait 6 months and then see if I still wanted a dog. I didn't, so that was a good call.

8. Did you go to the same school? same high school, different colleges

9. Who is the most sensitive? Ann

10. Where do you eat out most as a couple? toss up between Cheeseburger in Paradise and Chilis as far as chain restaurants. One of our favorite things to do is try new restaurants in and around DC that we haven't been to yet.

11. Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple? I flew to Oklahoma to watch him graduate from college...but I didn't travel with him there; I travelled with his parents. So I guess the furthest together was West Palm Beach, FL, for our honeymoon. Wow, we need to start travelling! Our "goal" is to go to a Caribbean or Mexican resort and Italy before we have babies. We need to get on that.

12. Who has the craziest exes? Well, seeing as how he is my first and only everything, he does.

13. Who has the worst temper? Joel - FO SHO!

14. Who does the cooking? Ann - unless we're having a frozen pizza, and then Joel usually takes over. He can tell when they're done better than I. ;)

15. Who is more social? He is more "charismatic" and is usually the center of attention when we're out with a group. But I go out with friends more often than he does. He likes alone time more than I do. I get lonely and sad if I'm by myself for too long. So it's a toss-up.

16. Who is the neat freak? He is a neat/organization freak. Everything has to be in its place or pile, with right-angled stacks. I am the clean freak. I hate dust, dirt, etc. He would probably clean the bathroom twice a year and wash the sheets once if he lived alone.

17. Who is the most stubborn? Joel X 10

18. Who hogs the bed? We both stay on our "sides" but I hog the covers.

19. Who wakes up earlier? Ann - anywhere from 2 to 3 1/2 hours earlier! **Not anymore! Now Joel is up at 6:30 a.m. every morning to brave the NoVa roads. I still get up earlier, but not by as much.

20. Where was your first date? Mars Hill coffee house in Chambersburg, PA. A local band named Jaw Bone Hill played. We listened to their (only) album in the car on the way home (we were in the back seat, Nick and Laura were up front), and the song, "Easy to Please" quickly became "our song." We danced to it at our wedding and it is now tattooed on Joel's arm. Yeah, I think that story rocks. :)

21. Do you get flowers often? no...I was just thinking the other day how I would love some fresh flowers...Joel and I are both too frugal (or maybe cheap?) to buy each other many gifts. But we do LOVE to go out to eat and share bottles of good wine! So I guess that's what we put our money into.

22. How long did it take to get serious? I think we were serious right away. We were each other's best other-sex friend, and had a unique and genuine connection. It grew from there, and we both realized quickly we didn't want to live without each other. I think when Joel went away to college after our first year of dating and we decided to do the long-distance thing, we committed to being in it for the long haul.

23. Who eats more? Joel, although I eat more often throughout the day. **This has also changed over the past few months. Joel is trying to lose 5 more pounds so he can fight at the 155 weight class for his first amateur MMA or kickboxing (still TBD) fight on November 7. He has lost 30 pounds from training over the past 6 or so months!!! So sometimes I eat more than he does now that he is reverting to weight loss tactics from his wrestling days.

24. Who sings better? Joel

25. Who does the laundry? Ann **Correction: both of us do now! I guess this is another fairly new development. One of our loads is reserved soley for "sweaty clothes" and is usually the biggest one.

26. Who’s better with the computer? hmm, good question. Not sure...he's probably better with music downloading, YouTube, Photoshop, etc. I probably have a better handle on Microsoft Office programs. LOL

27. Who drives when you are together? Joel - if I drive, a peanut gallery suddenly materializes in the passenger seat. Plus, he is the better driver. I admit it.

28. Who picks where you go to dinner? We both give input, but I usually make him decide. Or maybe he just knows what I really want, and he picks that. ;)

29. Who wears the pants? I hate this question. Joel has the more "dominant personality." But he by no means dominates over me. We are equals, but he definitely takes the lead, which is how I like it.

30. Who has the better sense of humor? Joel

31. Who eats more sweets? Ann X 100

32. Who cries more? Ann

33. What's your favorite tv show together? Hell's Kitchen...and American Idol, although I think he just "takes one for the team" with that one. Which I appreciate.

I have to add as a followup from my last post that Joel cleaned the whole apartment while I was out of town last weekend. It was a huge help, and I ate my words about emptying the dishwasher... ;)

I am so thankful for my husband, best friend, and life partner. :)

Cranky

2009-10-08T13:27:00.001-07:00

My mood this week.

Co-workers who are eternally pessimistic, have no concept of personal space, and don't know when to shut up and leave my office have not helped.

Neither has my lack-of-empathy-sensitivity-and-a-listening-ear husband who seems to have forgotten that I am not only another person who occupies space in his home and bed, but that I am his wife. And that I don't really love to empty the dishwasher, but I do it anyway. And he can too.

Really looking forward to a long weekend away. Time to run in the country, drink wine with my Dad, read for hours in my PJs, and be with my best friend. Perfect remedy for the crankies.

Changes

2009-10-02T07:25:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my husband accepted a new job. Soon he will be working with adults who have disabilities within a not-for-profit human services organization. This is lifechanging for us in several ways:

1) He has had the same job since we were engaged. It's all we have known as a family. In fact, he moved to Northern Virginia for this job, and I followed him here.

2) He has been working as a youth pastor at a small nondenominational church, which we have also attended together since we were married. If anyone knows anything about employment within an institutional church, you know that it is more than a job; it often consumes your entire life. Although the last three-and-a-half years have had their ups and downs, I have grown to love a group of teenagers more than I ever thought I had the capacity to. It's not easy saying good-bye.

3) Now he will be an 8 to 4, Monday to Friday man. No more work on the weekends. No more evening meetings or activities. No more Mondays off. He also now has to commute 30 to 45 minutes, rather than 10 to 15. Haha, welcome to the "real world," babe!

I am really excited for Joel, mainly because I see his excitement, but also because I know that his talents and strengths will be used well in this new position. I know he will be challenged on a daily basis, not just professionally, but also personally. The field he is entering has the potential to be eye-opening and perspective-shaping, just as working in an institutional church was for both of us.

I am thankful to finally be stepping out of transition and into the next step. The unknown is now clear, and the fog has dissipated. I am eager to watch this next chapter in our life unfold.

In other news, I tried a pumpkin spice latte for the first time (I think) last night, per the recommendation of one of my favorite coffee connoisseurs. It was scrumptious. Just enough spice to complement the sweet. I just can't get enough of the pumpkin flavors this season!

Fall has been good to me. :)

Road Run-na, Road Run-na!

2009-09-11T08:38:00.000-07:00

Love that MIA song.

In fact, I listened to it quite a bit as I trained for my first half marathon. 12 weeks of 5:30 a.m. weekday runs intermixed with 4:30 a.m. gym stints of cross-training and strength training, plus long runs every Saturday. All of this hard work and time paid off last Sunday morning as I ran the Va Beach Rock and Roll Half Marathon, finishing in 2 hours and 43 seconds. A mere 44 seconds away from my sub-two hour goal. So close!!! Maybe next time...and maybe next time I'll buy a stopwatch to track my pace, as my dear Boston marathon-running friend Kari so tactfully suggested when I shared with her my disappointment over not meeting my goal. :)

Below are a few pictures to document my race weekend. Oh, what a weekend it was...

We arrived at the Health and Fitness Expo with 15 minutes remaining to register. Because of traffic a 3 hour drive took us nearly 5. They were dimming the lights and roping off the registration area after we entered. Needless to say, it was one of the most stressful road trips of my life.

After I registered, we went in search of some carbs! I was excited that we found this restaurant that loudly advertised its yummy Italian specialty.

Our classy hotel for the night

Awake bright and early - 4a.m. to be exact. But I am ready to run!!

Over 3 hours later...and we're off!

Mile 1 - smiling

Mile 11 - still smiling! (because I spotted my fantastic, supportive husband and parents)

The course was flat and fast!

Go, go, go!

Done! And yes, I AM sweaty. My entire shirt was soaked - you just can't tell. ;)

Over 15,000 runners and walkers

One of my biggest fans

And another. :)

It was the perfect first "big race" experience. I had a lot of fun and gave it my all. This past week I have been resting and enjoying a break from running and exercise in general. A much-needed time of seeking restoration, balance, and health for my body, mind, and spirit. This weekend I'm indulging in a massage and pedicure, also much-need, and long-awaited!

Free Falling...

2009-09-10T07:22:00.000-07:00

It's so quiet all around me. But my heart is pounding, my mind is racing, my thoughts are scattered.

As of yesterday, it was decided that my husband will be leaving his current place of employment in 60 days. This has been a long time coming, as he has had several candid discussions with his employer over the past several months about his desire to move on.

Do we have concrete plans for a new job? No.

Oh we have ideas. Lots of them. And they've been brewing for nearly a year. The past 9 months has been a time of transformation for both of us. Who were are today and how we view the world around us is very different from the people we were 3 yeas ago when we agreed to walk this journey as one. I am just so thankful that we have experienced this growth together.

And now that we have the official green light to take the next step, I can't help but feel like I'm falling...and I don't know where or when I will land. But I do know who will hold me the whole way down, and who will put my feet on solid ground again. And that is the hope to which I cling.

Will I be "That Woman?"

2009-08-27T08:53:00.001-07:00

The older I get, the more of my friends start having babies. I am only 25, so I feel quite young to jump on that train yet. I have been married for 3 years, and I feel like I should have at least 4 or 5 more to suck the sweet life out of. Plus, I truly enjoy my job. I love being able to come home as late as I want and make dinner whenever I get around to it. I thrive off of my early morning runs and gym time, which can last as long as I want them to. I don't think twice about having an unscheduled night out with my husband or girlfriends, and a weekend trip away can be planned at the last minute.

Pretty much, I live for myself right now. And I realize that when the time comes and I have my first little Pace, I will learn quickly how to be flexible and live for someone else. At least that's what my mom friends tell me.

However, right now, when I think about the prospect of having children, I feel nothing but dread and fear. Dread that I may never "feel" ready (which apparently you never do). And fear that I will lose myself when that time comes. That Ann Pace - writer, runner, reader, professional, wine-lover, baker, social butterfly, learner, truth-seeker - will disappear, and "that woman" will emerge. That woman who talks about nothing but the newest sippy cups and the deal she scored on her Pack-n-Play. The woman whose most exciting daily news to share is her baby's poop color and sleep schedule. The woman who never exercises, leaves her house, or even showers. The woman who hasn't had a date night out with her husband in over 2 months.

I just don't know if I will survive a transition from me to that woman. I understand that my priorities, schedule, and desires will change dramatically when I have children, but I don't want ME to change. I don't want my identity to become Mom. Selfish? Perhaps. But it's how I feel right now.

And let me be clear that I admire and respect the women I know who are incredible moms. And there are a few whom I hope to be like one day, and to whom I am grateful for not compromising themselves as they've entered motherhood. But I don't envy them. I'm quite content and happy "being 25."

I do think that I want children eventually. I just hope that someday I will actually feel excited about the idea of being a mom. Sometimes I feel like one of the only women on earth who is indifferent about children and doesn't care much for babies. Who dreads her monthly stint in the church nursery. Who feels like an idiot every time she tries to have a conversation with a toddler. The only thing that I get ushy gushy over is the thought of my husband being a father. I'll just hold on to that for awhile, I guess...

I pray that someday I will make a good mother and will embrace that newest PART of my identity, while still keeping ME intact.

Shorty

2009-08-14T08:11:00.000-07:00

I listened to Lil' Wayne on my early morning run today. But this post is not about that kind of shorty...

I am a short woman. I tell people that I am 5 feet tall, mostly because it takes too long to say 4 feet, 11 and three-quarter inches. And partly because I feel REALLY short if I hear myself say out loud that I am under 5 feet.

I've been thinking about my height lately, and how my life experiences and even perspective of the world around me is significantly affected by how tall (or short) I am. For example...

A few days ago on an airplane, I struggled to reach the overhead bin into which I had to shove my large carry-on. I realized that in situations like these, I struggle a bit, and then just bide my time until the closest gentleman comes to my rescue. So far I've managed okay this way.

On many grocery trips, I climb up shelves to reach the bag of pretzels on the top rack. If climbing does not look feasible, I wait for the next tall person to saunter down the aisle, and - once again - rely on him or her for help.

I climb on my kitchen counters on a daily basis to put dishes away.

I am the middle seat passenger in a full car. That's the position I automatically go for. My feet fit nicely on the floor hump.

I resemble the Energizer Bunny when I run. My short legs shuffle along in quick strides.

Unless my mom hems my pants during one of my visits home, I walk on them, and the ends fray within weeks.

I have yet to find an "adult" bike that my legs can pedal comfortably. I really miss the pink and purple bike I had when I was 10.

I can see all your nose hairs and boogers.

I can sit across from anyone on the train, and I never bump them with my knees.

Be careful if you get in the driver's seat after me.

I fit perfectly with my 5'7" husband - oh, excuse me - 5'EIGHT" husband. (riiiiigghhhttt) And we will most likely add more shorties to this earth when we get around to it.

All this to say that lately I've wondered if and how I would be different if I were a tall person. How much does one's physical body really affect WHO they are, and how they experience life? If you believe in a loving God who created you, as I do, you realize He must have formed your physical self with purposeful intent, knowing that your inner identity would be shaped somewhat by your outer shell. If I am to truly be a confident woman, and thankful for who I am as a reflection of the image of my Creator, then I must embrace ALL of who I am, knowing that my height is not a flaw, nor a fluke, nor even a random whim, but a thoughtful, intelligent choice. Pretty stinking cool. Maybe this world would be full of people who are more confident in themselves and more accepting of others if we truly understood that we are a product of purpose and love.

And next time you see a short person struggling to reach that bag of chips - lend her a hand, will ya?

Chocolate and Peanut Butter Goodness

2009-08-03T10:01:00.000-07:00

Saturday was Joel's 28th birthday. He's getting old. Not really, but I did have (for the first time) the thought that he should probably be a dad sometime in the near future, since his 30s are right around the corner. It was a fleeting thought, however. I then decided that as long as I am 30 when we start procreating, we're good to go. He can be an old dad. He'll be fine. So I have 5 more years of selfish bliss...

Anyway, enough about kids and my current aversion to them. I am, however, EXCITED to be an aunt - and hopefully soon! (hint, hint)

We celebrated Joel's birthday Friday night in PA with my family. I made a delicious shrimp scampi dinner, courtesy of Tyler Florence and the Food Network.

For dessert, I spent about three hours baking this cake:

I got the recipe from a blog, and I don't know how I found this blog. I read so many, and I often follow links, especially to recipe recommendations. Anyway, the cake was SO DELICIOUS that I have to recommend it to my three readers as well. :)

It took me quite some time to make it. About three hours. Granted, I took my time and was interrupted often. But you will notice that the recipe is quite detailed and precise, and I let my perfectionistic self run free and followed every step exactly.

You will see that the blog review of this cake is quite lengthy and descriptive, so I will keep mine brief: The chocolate cake was moist and somewhat dense, which I personally LOVED. It wasn't too rich though - at least not for me. However, I have quite a sweet tooth and can handle more "richness" than the average person, so your tastebuds may have a different opinion. In fact, I finished off my brother's serving after I consumed mine, if that tells you anything. The peanut butter icing had the perfect sweet/salty flavor blend, and again was not too rich. The peanut butter cups added a nice crunchy contrast. The one change from the recipe I would suggest is to make more than one batch of the icing to sufficiently frost the cake. I ran out of the first batch and had to make half a batch more. It was the only choice I had, as I also ran out of confectioners sugar.

I was quite proud of the finished product:

Joel liked it, too, which is what mattered most, of course. :) We still have about half of it in our refrigerator. However, I am slowly working my way through it, and have no doubt that I will polish it off by the end of the week.

Here's my handsome hubby on his big day:

Beverage Snobbery

2009-07-10T09:00:00.001-07:00

Drinking lime flavor-infused beer is almost as bad as drinking white zinfandel.

I have been wanting to say that for a long time. I know it sounds super highbrow. But hey - true beer and wine drinkers will agree. Everyone else will just think I'm a snob.

Tom and Lo

2009-07-10T07:38:00.000-07:00

I didn't always know I had great parents. A dad who coached his daughter's soccer team and played outside with his kids on a regular basis was normal to me. A mom who stayed home with her three children and made homemade dinners each night was all I knew.

My parents were even my teachers for three years. From third to fifth grade I was homeschooled (insert joke about homeschoolers here). However, it was the best thing for me and for my family. I actually learned to enjoy learning. I still remember crying at the ripe age of 9 when I got less than an A on a test (pathetic, I know), but I cultivated a real desire for knowledge for knowledge's sake. We could spend as long as we wanted on a certain subject, and if we were interested in material outside of the curriculum, nothing stopped our further exploration. There was no strict yearly schedule to follow - nothing but freedom to learn. Even my dad chipped in. After working hard all week so that my mom could stay home with us, he assumed the role of "English teacher." He taught me how to write.

I think those 3 years at home with my family formed a foundation that, to this day, is the sturdiest rock that I know on this earth. Even through middle school and high school, I enjoyed spending time with my family. They made me laugh. They were fun to be with. My parents listened to me, supported me, truly cared about what my ideas, opinions, and feelings. They encouraged my spiritual growth, too, regularly praying with and for me, but never shoving any dogmatic notions down my throat. I always knew they were special, but I never realized just HOW special.

Until today. Now, as a 25-year-old adult woman living in the "real world," I realize that my parents are rare. I find myself shocked at many of my friends' parents who act like selfish teenagers, often more immature than their children. I remember the first time one of my friends told me her mom wasn't talking to her because she was mad at her. I just can't relate to that. That has never happened to me and it never will, because that's not who my parents are. They are selfless, generous, wise, and loving people who put their children before themselves. To this day, they make me feel like I can do anything I want to do. They tell me how proud of me they are. They invest in my life because they really, truly want to.

I believe with my whole heart that I have the best parents in the world. And I am thankful that they open their home to me even now as an adult, whenever I want to be there, as a safe haven from the stress and exhaustion of life. I pray that one day I can be half as good a parent to my children as they have been to my siblings and me. To me, that's what true success in this world is all about.

My Crazy Head

2009-06-25T07:16:00.000-07:00

I continue to be amazed by what my mind can talk me into.

Two days ago I decided to go for a 5-mile run on the treadmill at an 8:57 mile pace. My goal is to run my half marathon in September in under two hours, which would require me to run a 9 and-some-change minute mile for 13.1 miles. I figured if I could focus on running right under a 9 minute mile for 5 miles, I would see how I felt and if this goal was attainable.

Well after mile 2, my crazy head told me that it was too easy. And that I should run half of a half marathon (6.5 miles), to see if I really had it in me to keep that pace for an extended period of time. Then, once I got up to 6 miles, I thought, "I can run one more mile! And faster!" So I bumped my speed up to an 8:50 mile.

And I thought I felt great. I really did. I was working hard, but not gasping for breath by any means.

And then, at 7 miles, the cool-down phase automatically kicked in on the treadmill. I hadn't set it to do so, but it may have been a divine intervention to save me from myself. For at that moment, I had the scariest experience of my running "career." My heart rate was actually racing (even though I didn't seem to notice that while on the treadmill), and even after walking for 5 minutes, it would not level out.

So my mind took over again. I started to freak out. Anxiety. Panic. Very common reactions for me. I thought, "What if I have a heart attack? What if I pass out?" I had to stop, lay on the floor, and focus on deep breathing. Right in the middle of the gym. Awesome.

I think I just over-did it. I can count on two hands how many times I've run 7 miles, and certainly never at that fast of a pace. But my mind seems to be more influential than my body's capability. And this is not always good.

I spent all day yesterday in an on-and-off panic attack. I've had these bouts enough over the past few years to realize the symptoms, but I just couldn't seem to overcome it. My mind kept saying, "What if you caused major damage to your heart? What if you can't run like you used to now? What if you can't finish the half marathon?" All irrational thoughts, I know. But the chest pressure, shortness of breath, and dizziness continued.

When I got home from work and shared all of this drama with Joel, who had been away on a trip the past 3 days, he quickly put it into perspective for me. He pointed to his head and said, "It's in your head." He knows me too well. As I made dinner, talked with him about his trip, and relaxed on the couch with a glass of wine, the physical symptoms mysteriously disappeared. Huh.

In retropsect of this experience, though, I am honestly awed and disturbed by how my body can react to my mind. It makes me wonder if my summer of mysterious symptoms a year ago was all in my head. Is that possible? Which then makes me think that I'm probably somewhat mentally unbalanced and need to undergo some professional therapy. Especially if I keep denying myself those Xanax prescriptions the doctor hands me each time I go for a routine physical. They must just smell anxiety all over me.

I wish I had a second head to talk some sense into the first one. But until then, prayer, deep breathing, and a no-nonsense husband will have to act as my dose of balancing sanity.

My apologies, NoVa

2009-06-12T06:17:00.000-07:00

When I moved to Northern Virginia (NoVa) over 3 years ago, I experienced regular panic attacks for the first time in my life. Now that I think back, this physical reaction to a variety of simultaneous life changes was completely normal: I had graduated from college, gotten married at the ripe age of 22, moved, secured my first job in the "real world," been thrown into (I mean, gladly accepted) the role of "youth pastor's wife," and, what's this - you want me to cook, clean, and grocery shop like a pro, too? I was a wreck for a few months.

Then, as I adjusted to most of the new aspects of my life, the one thing I just couldn't get used to was our new home - the DC Metro area. I had lived in peaceful central PA my entire life and then attended college in rural Indiana, and now the traffic, the commute, the congestion, the 5 minutes it took to get through one stoplight just drove me CRAZY. I would spend a weekend with my parents and cry the entire way back to NoVa. The PA fresh air, country roads, and greenery seemed like a cruel tease when I would find myself once again back on 495 and in "the armpit," as my husband and I have coined NoVa.

Recently...really just within the past month...I have for the first time in 3+ years begun to feel like this is home. We have established ourselves here, as man and wife (our own little family) and have moved from our first tiny, ghetto apartment into our now less-ghetto and slightly larger apartment. We have grown to know the roads, the plethora of local chain restaurants (what will it be - Chilis or Olive Garden?), the grocery stores and gyms. We love our peaceful neighborhood, with its safe running path and trails. We are a mere 30 miles from the capital of our nation, and have access to some of the best museums, food, history, and culture within less than an hour of travel. We really have the best of both worlds. Suburbia and city...all wrapped into one crazy, hectic, congested, but EXCITING area. And if I really want to get some country in my life, all I need to do is drive less than an hour southwest, into the heart of beautiful Virginia.

My apologies, NoVa. I have been a hater for much too long. And while I'm not saying I won't have my moments-when stuck in traffic on 95 North, or after missing my train for the second time in a week-that I curse you, or curse the driver in front of me, or curse the congestion to which I am a contributor, overall, you're growing on me. I think I'll keep you. At least for a few more years.

P.S. More evidence that where is live is pretty cool: Today I am taking the metro from work to Chinatown, DC, where a bus will take me to Chinatown, Philly to hang out with Julia for the weekend. 30 bucks roundtrip. Amazing.

A Year Ago...

2009-06-09T07:28:00.000-07:00

Marked the beginning of the toughest summer of my life.

I was taking time off of work for frequent trips to various doctors.

I saw a neurologist and a rheumatologist for the first time in my life.

I got two MRIs taken, as well as an EMG.

I felt regular numbness, tingling, and aching throughout my body.

My dear family thought I had MS.

I could not complete a 4 mile run without pain in my joints or muscles.

I was broken and more dependent on God than I had been in a really long time.

I truly knew what it meant to live day by day.

And TODAY...

I am a healed, delivered, restored woman. To God be the glory.
But I still need him today more than I ever have. That is the most beautiful part of the story.

LOVE

2009-06-03T07:58:00.000-07:00

I feel sick. Disgusted. Ashamed. Angry as hell.

The fact that a man who calls himself a follower of Christ chooses to kill another human being...and in a place where other Jesus-followers are hanging out and worshiping...it just makes me MAD.

I am done with the whole idea that as Christians, we are on this earth to "defend our faith." Why does Jesus need defending? If we truly believe that God created this world and us and that He is all-knowing, all-powerful, and everywhere, why in His beautiful name do WE, small, imperfect, ignorant, and finite humans needs to defend HIM?

Onward, Christian soldiers: This event has brought a new meaning to that phrase for me, and it makes me SICK. Did Christ's death and resurrection not already secure victory in the sense that HE conquered death FOR us?!? Why do we insist on fighting some battle that has already been won, AND in the name of Christ? It makes my blood boil to think about how so-called Christians time and again smear Jesus's name and all that he came to be and do.

Love. He IS love. He came to love. He wants us to love. First love Him with all that we are, and then love others. It's really that simple. If we put those two tenets into practice, would we even THINK about killing someone??

I'm getting tired of Christians with causes and agendas. Christians who make their pro-life beliefs, or anti-gay marriage agenda as THE thing. Like God needs or wants their incessant picketing and rhetoric. Does He?

Maybe instead of condemning that abortion doctor, we got to know him? We genuinely loved him, cared about him, wanted to know WHO he was, without an agenda to "get him saved." What if, instead of giving our homosexual neighbor the pharasaical eye, we invited him over for dinner? We showed him that we loved him...for who he is NOW, not for who we think he should be.

Forgive me for ranting, but I'm getting fed up. I want this world to SEE and UNDERSTAND and EXPERIENCE the love of Christ, but religionists aren't helping.

Because persuasive rhetoric, rigorous causes, and killing doesn't seem to help.

LOVE changes. Love makes all the difference in the world.

And I personally want to know more and show more.

The Fight

2009-05-11T11:00:00.001-07:00

About 250 people crowd into a small, dank skating rink. Rows of chairs surround the cage, and bright lights illuminate the two men inside. With chiseled muscles, fierce faces, and intense focus, the men circle the ring, each eying up his competition. The crowd’s noise is purposeful, as onlookers cheer for “their guy,” shouting specific instructions or simple praise. Suddenly, one fighter attacks. With a swift kick, right knee, or left jab, he seizes his first opportunity to be on the offensive. Soon all hell breaks loose. Arms and legs go flying as both fighters attempt to get the upper hand. One goes down, and the combat continues on the mat, as the men use holds and chokes to overcome their opponent. Most likely there is blood. Each man is smeared with it, but neither quits nor even hesitates. Perhaps by chance, or maybe because of hours of conditioning and training, one finally assumes the dominant position. And then, simultaneously, both fighters and the crowd know it’s over. The audience erupts as the victor secures his final choke hold or rails away with his winning punches, until the defeated gives in to his fate and makes the move that shows the fatal collapse, the ultimate demise of his will to win…the tap out.

This is how I spent my Saturday evening – as a spectator at the most animalistic sporting event I have ever witnessed: a mixed martial arts (MMA) fight.

My husband is an ex-wrestler, and so developed an affinity for such man-to-man combat as an adolescent. Besides his wearing hoodies when working so that he can sweat as much as humanly possible, as well as his television appetite for UFC, I never truly understood this side of my husband until recently, when he joined a new gym where he takes kickboxing and boxing classes 4 times a week.

He is a new man.

He loves working his body to the point of pain, and feeling sore all night after an intense class. He loves talking about his workouts and the new friends he’s met at the gym, those he has bonded with over sweat and tears. He has gained a newfound energy, zeal, and passion for this hobby, this “sport.” It has also become a great outlet for daily life stress. Not to mention, he has lost noticeable weight and toned up in less than three months.

So when he told me about this local MMA fight night, and how he wanted to go to support one of his trainers, I wanted to go, too. I wanted to be part of his “new thing,” even if it really isn’t “my thing.”

And I’m glad I went. Even though I was ready to leave by the fifth fight (there were 17), and the cage girls in their skimpy outfits strutting to the whistles of obnoxious white trash testosterone made me boil with anger for their willingness to objectify themselves and degrade my gender as a whole (whew)…I was happy to sit beside my husband and enjoy his company.

There’s a first for everything, I guess. That was a first…and a last.

My First 5K!

2009-05-04T08:10:00.000-07:00

I did it! My first 5K. It only took me ten years since I have begun my running “career.” As a high school freshman, I struggled through my track season running the 1600 meter event. I was always in last place. It was humiliating, and the season was physically taxing, but it got me in great shape, and I developed a love for running. Especially long distance running. I realized I was not built for speed (shocker!), but that endurance was my forte. Since then, I have always run just for fun, stress relief, and personal fitness. Racing was always a fleeting thought, but never an actual goal. But then, within the past few years, it seemed that everyone ELSE started running races. Friends of mine who didn’t even like running started signing up for Half Marathons, and I felt the urge, the tug…and so I decided that I – who considers running one of my top 5 favorite things to do – should take the plunge as well and join the racing bandwagon.

My first experience was great. I know not all races will be as incredible as this one. They can’t be.

My excitement and nerves culminated at the start line, and as we took off, I felt like I was hopped up on drugs…which I guess I was – a good dose of natural adrenaline and endorphins!
The Lake Ridge May Day 5K was quite a hilly course. I took this first race pretty seriously and even considered driving it the week before, just so I knew where I would be going. I’m glad I didn’t, though. I think if I knew how many hills there would be, and when they were coming, I may not have trucked along quite so fast or been as mentally tough. I just took the up- and downhills as they came, and kept a fairly consistent pace. In all honesty, the 3.1 miles seemed to fly by, and when I rounded the corner and heard a bystander yell, “A quarter mile left!” I couldn’t believe it. I turned on whatever extra steam I had conserved, and ran hard to the finish.
I had a hopeful goal of maintaining an 8:30 mile pace, which would put my finish time at about 25:30. Yet, as I had never run a 5K before, I thought this was probably the BEST I could do, and so prepared myself to not be disappointed if my time was longer.

I shocked even myself.

25:16.

I’m hooked.

Transition

2009-04-28T11:19:00.000-07:00

You know it’s a time of transition in your life when uncertainty abounds, the future feels like it’s literally hanging in the balance, and you actually ARE living one day at a time. The things you’ve talked about so long, knowing that eventually they would come to pass ARE coming to pass…any minute now. Really. It’s scary. Relationships are tough. There’ s tension and conflict and unmet expectations. You want to avoid it all, want to hide away where you feel safe, in the comfort of answered questions and a secure future.

At least that’s how I feel right now.

Change is never easy for me. But I’m learning that change is even harder for me when it affects those I love the most. At least when there’s change in my life, I can take ownership of it – I have to deal with my emotions, make plans, take charge…basically, make my best attempt to control the situation. But when there’s change in his life, I feel powerless to do anything…except listen, love, and affirm. But I also have to deal with myself, my own worries – both the “normal” ones, as well as the ridiculous anxieties that I can’t seem to escape and that rear their ugly heads even uglier in times like these. Sometimes I feel like I can’t be the support he needs, the rock to lean on because my own fears and weaknesses reduce me to a heap of useless sand.

So in these moments, I realize that I wasn’t designed to understand it all, or have it all figured out. It’s okay that the next step is fuzzy, and the timeline is unclear. Any vague concept of a five-year plan – or one-year plan, at that – can go to hell, as maybe this is really what living is about. The moment. The uncertainty. The waiting. The daily. The trust. The faith.

...and, I'm back!

2008-07-07T11:57:00.000-07:00

I haven't blogged in a while...nearly six months to be exact. So 'HELLO!' to my one reader!

What have I been doing for the past 6 months? Well, for the sake of my time and your sanity, I will keep this entry focused on my biggest life change since January...my new job! I now spend 8-4 each day at a new four-letter acronym workplace. No longer MVLE, people...now it's ASTD! Moving on up in the world, I am.

Actually, I am. I LOVE MY NEW JOB! I was afraid to take the plunge when I submitted my resignation at MVLE in February. However, switching from a Quality Specialist (still have no clue what that means) at a vocational rehabilitation nonprofit in Springfield to an Editorial Assistant at a workplace learning and performance association in Alexandria was one of the best decisions of my adult life, no thanks to me, and all thanks to God. He provided this opportunity, He coordinated the timing, He led me to this next stage, as He always faithfully does.

I had applied for this job last September, but with no leads. Then, in January, ASTD contacted me to see if I was still interested. The timing was perfect. Not only was I at the right point in my "career" at MVLE to graciously exit, but I was itching to move on to a job that would position me to pursue my deeper career interests and passions: writing and editing. So here I am! Writing, editing, podcasting, assisting, and learning all about the various facets of publishing.

Oh, and I have become a VRE (Virginia Railway Express) commuter. Yep, that's right, I take the train to work each day. I know you're jealous. Don't be. Seriously. As thrilled as I was to join the ranks of public transportation-users and become more "citified," the glamour of my commute wore off within the first month, as I spent numerous evenings standing for 25 minutes on the ride home (apparently the train doesn't host the most gentlemenly of the male population), learned the details of several riders' crazy weekends via obnoxiously loud cell phone conversations, and enjoyed the sounds and smells of DC's finest who take the expression "roll out of bed" literally. HOWEVER, I am not complaining! I LOVE that I do not have to deal with DC traffic each morning and evening, and that I am not replenishing my gas tank twice a week at 60 bucks a pop!

So thank God for the Amerian Society for Training and Development and for leading me to work in one of the cutest towns in the USA. You should come visit me and we'll have lunch. Oh, and if you're ever searching ITunes, try Author: ASTD and Album: T+D...you may hear me reading a podcast on the latest trend in the workplace learning and performance profession. Thrilling, I know.

Ann :)

Here I Go (deep breath)...

2008-01-23T11:16:00.000-08:00

I'm blogging. I created a blog. I am a blogger. I just need to get used to this truth. Because I must admit, I've been skeptical. An online diary? Oxy-moron, anyone? But the past few months I've become a convert. It started when a new friend told me about her blog, and my curiosity led me there. However, I could not read just one entry. I became a stalker. Every day I looked forward to her new post. I relished each story about her life, each insightful conclusion she drew from a trip to the grocery store or a news article she just read. I was an addict. Soon, I started checking out other blogs, first those of my blogger friend's blogger friends. Then I started googling topics I love, just to see if maybe...possibly... wine blogs? Heck yes, they exist!

And here's the funny thing. I love to write. Always have. I have stacks upon stacks of journals filled with emotional ramblings, spirtual searching, and life musings dated from middle school. Writing makes me feel alive. Writing defines who I am, captures each era of my life, never to be forgotten. I hope to soon embark on writing as a career, to learn from some of the best and to be mentored to my fullest capacity.

Confession: I am a scholarly writer. I hate even saying that, it sounds so nerdy, so pretentious even. But it's true. Research, analytical writing, compilation and summary - those are my strengths. The creative, free-flowing, right-brain writing doesn't come as naturally to me. But I want to try. I want to see what happens as I attempt to record my observations, comptemplations, and revelations on life's journey. I know I am a work in progress, and I want to watch myself progress.

So here I go...here's Punk's Prose.