Outer Banks 2007!

We were very excited to be able to join the Meyer fam down in Avon, North Carolina again this year. We missed it last June, and didn't realize until now how physically, mentally, and spiritually healing the trip down to the beach is. We felt like we earned this year, after graduation, parties, and crazy-busy work! Enjoy!


Our terrible view of the ocean from the house, Captain's Quarters.


Our terrible view of the ocean from the beach.


Beth found an inexpensive inflatable island at Sam's Club that we brought it down this year. Amazingly enough, it survived the wear and tear of vacation. It sat a large number of people, and thus was lots of fun when hit by a wave...


...as exampled here.


Brave Vitaly holding the baby shark he caught while surf fishing.


Dad Meyer and Uncle Ted fishing.


One of the finds this year was the Old Gray House, an early 1800's house on Hatteras Island that's now a gift shop run by an old couple. It's absolutely packed with shells and beach knick-knacks. I don't know how we missed it after all our years down at the shore.


Beth and I trying to capture some publicity shots featuring Paul Robinett candles and the Atlantic Ocean. Hint: waves = unpredictable.

I graduated!

A month ago today I trotted across the field of the Ohio Stadium, my adviser threw a hood over my shoulders, I bolted up the stage, handed my name card to the dean of the Graduate School, glanced to my left to try and see President Bill Clinton and Senator John Glenn, shook hands with OSU President Karen Holbrook (w/my right hand, like we were taught), nabbed my diploma (w/my left hand, like we were taught), and booked it for... well, not the door. I just walked back to my seat.

Yup, that was graduation day. June 10, 2007. After five (!) years (!) of graduate school, including two years of the Master's with Beth, and then three more of the Ph.D. (with Beth as my sugar momma... just kidding she's wonderful and supported me through it all), I went through the above-mentioned ceremony with 6100 fellow graduates of THE Ohio State University. (So I've been permanently branded a Buckeye, I guess.)

I was most blessed by the presence of so many friends and family in the Stadium that day. I could hear them scream when the Dean read my name. I was and have been even more blessed by all the prayers and support throughout the years of graduate school, as well as all the cards and words of encouragement from those who weren't at graduation. A big thank you to everyone.

Like all graduation ceremonies, you sit for a long time and enjoy the proceedings, while your actual moment of glory is fleeting. But that's not bad. I tried to savor every moment of walking across the field, seeing my adviser smiling as he hooded me, shaking his hand, trotting up the stairs to the stage, hearing my name, and meeting President Holbrook ("Good luck!" she told me). It all happened so quickly.

Fortunately, our good friend Kurt "Red Meat" "Out Late" Olmsted, was there with our camera. He snapped enough pictures of the ceremony and the subsequent party that I assembled them into a simple slideshow on YouTube. He took enough just of me walking the field that it works as a small movie. (Thanks, Kurt!) Enjoy!

We bought a house!

Great condition. Historic value. Late 1700's. Eight bedrooms. Twenty acre gardens. Slave quarters.

New Post for Kurt!

This is a new post just for our good friend Kurt, who is visiting with his wife Kim this week! I don't have much more to write for him, except to say that I'm very happy they're here.

Defended!

The title of the post should be belted/growled like Strong Bad.

I'm sure many of you received Beth's e-mail yesterday, but... it's fun to reiterate. Yesterday morning I defended my dissertation and passed my oral examination. It was really more of a conversation, but my adviser and readers posed some tough questions and made me sweat through my shirt. Overall, though, I feel pretty good about my answers, and their questions will help shape my final revisions. My adviser, Dr. Tom Postlewait, and I will work to revise my introduction (which may become two separate chapters), my conclusion, and my freakin' awesome appendix (a 40+ page calendar of important productions/events in London from 1889-1918). We'll take a couple weeks to do the revisions, and I should have it uploaded (we get to submit it electronically, which saves a LOT of trouble) by May 25th.

So I'm confused now... when do you get to call yourself Dr.? Is it now? Is it officially after graduation (I suppose TECHNICALLY it's after the University president confers the degree at commencement). But when is that? Not that I'm dying to sign everything "Dr. Nicholas Dekker" just yet (okay, yes I am!), but... I'm curious when these little landmarks take effect. No one really teaches you these things!

Our commencement (Ohio State's 380th, by the by) is Sunday, June 10th in the Ohio Stadium. I'll be one of the handful of students who actually have their name read. There's no limit on tickets, so anyone is welcome to come down. And our commencement speaker is President Clinton, so if you're dying to hear him speak... now's your chance! (We were disappointed that both Jon Stewart and Barack Obama turned us down, though...)

So a special thank you to all the friends and family who have seen Beth and I through this process. It's been a long five (five?!) years of first the master's and now the Piled-Higher-and-Deeper. This is a dream come true, I guess... there was always this part of me that thought this degree was unattainable, like it would be too hard or too much work or something. Although that certainly didn't stop me from doing it!

Nick

P.S. Oh, and I also found out pretty officially yesterday (as in, the Department Chair called me into his office and told me) that I'll be back at Ohio State next year (and possibly a second!) leading Intro to Theatre AND teaching some other classes. Woohoo! I wonder how good faculty and staff football seats are...

As if you need another blog to read...

But, in case you DO, here it is:

Chronicles of a Candle Shop Girl
candleshopgirl.blogspot.com

I started this to keep our great customers at Paul Robinett's Candle Shop and Gallery up to date on, the weird things I get to do, the changes happening in the shop, and what's going on with Paul.

Enjoy!

Makin' Us Look GOOD...

This past week on a simply beautiful day, we took Maeby on a walk to Goodale Park. To paint a true picture of this park, you have to understand that it lands smack dab in the middle of Columbus' urban oasis known as Victorian Village. It is about the size of 2 city blocks, and is green with flowering trees and laced with sidewalks. At the center, above the pond and gazebo, the sidewalks join on a little hill. This is where the Dog People gather. On nice days, they emerge from their Victorian mansions, old and young, men and women, singles and couples, bring their purebred perfectly-trained pooches, and judge other dogs and owners. Some days, we can count upwards of 50 dogs in the park at once...each tempting Maeby to lose her mind and all of her training...

On our first trip to the park this Spring, Maeby took off into the park the second that we let her off her leash. She's always been well-behaved when we go to the park, but that day the most curious thing happened. She circled back to us as we walked through the park, gave us a little lick, then took off again. Time and time again, she checked in, then took off, checked in, took off. She would often sniff other dogs or people, but nothing obnoxious. We kept walking through the park, through Dog People territory, then past the gazebo, with Maeby following us all the way. When we started to make the loop around the pond, she trotted directly between us, heeling like her life depended on it. As we headed out of the park, she sat quiet as we put her leash back on and heeled like a champion all the way home.

I don't know where we got this dog. It seems so silly to wax poetic about an animal, but we've just heard so many horror stories about terrible dogs, that it is amazing when Maeby has moments of brilliance...especially when we never thought we could teach her to make US look good!

Overwhelmed.

I was just the recipient of a random act of kindness, and I am so humbled by it, I just had to share it. A woman who shops in the candle shop a lot just stopped by and said that I had commented on liking her purse a number of times before, which she had gotten on her annual medical mission to Cambodia. She then reached in a bag and handed me a STUNNING aqua and chocolate brown purse. She said she had been going through her car and found an extra one and decided to bring it by and give it to me. I just can't believe it...



She wouldn't take money, but I set her up with some candles...just a small token of appreciation that she has absolutely made my week and restored my hope in humanity. See? Multiple purses DO have purpose! And random acts of kindness DO matter!

The Surprise!

Nick's New Drums and Other Favorite Bedtime Stories...

As of Monday, Feb. 26th, Nicholas John Dekker has graced this earth for 28 years...and what better to celebrate this momentus occassion than a brand new shiny green drum set?!

Stop by for a personal concert...I'm sure Nick wouldn't mind showing them off for you....

Oh, the Pooch

How can you NOT love this little girl?!?!

Pre-Lost Routine!

Now that we're within a week of the newest Lost, I thought it was appropriate for everyone to get in the mood for that exciting day!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8z_zVROAdLU

Maeby and Her Bunny

A couple months ago we bought Maeby a bag full of stuffed animals from Good Will. Now, you have to understand that, when it comes to stuffed toys, Maeby makes it her mission to unravel and unstuff these poor animals. Their "guts" are usually strewn across the living room floor. Sometimes the carnage is unbelievable... everything from butterflies, monkeys ("Monkey!"), hedgehogs, turtles, reindeer boot skates (don't ask), and Mr. Bear have been disemboweled. After all the stuffing-shed, we finally came to our senses: rather than buying new stuffed toys for $5 each, why not pay that much for a whole bag of future victims from Good Will? Makes much more sense! We did so in late November, and all the unfortunate souls in that bag have since been turned into a shell of their former selves.

Except one... Bunny.

Why Bunny, you ask? Well, frankly, we don't know... Bunny seems as good a candidate as any for the ritual gutting. Yet he has survived because Maeby simply won't tear him to shreds. Sure, she chews on him, plays tug-o'-war with him, whips him around without mercy. But she also carries him around everywhere, sleeps with him, and even knows to bring him to us when we say, "Go get your bunny!" While we call him "Bunny," he was formerly a Peter Rabbit wearing a coat and holding a carrot; he has since been stripped naked and robbed of his one earthly possession. Still, she keeps him by like no other toy she's ever had.

Beth has said on multiple occasions that she'll probably shed tears if/when Bunny goes. I have to agree. There's something very meaningful in this unexplained behavior of our dog. We chalk it up to good parenting.

Nerdy Historian

This past week I finished my first major chapter of the dissertation. No doubt it will come back practically unrecognizable from all the markings (my adviser, Tom Postlewait, is an editor, and a very good one at that), but it feels good to have finished it and sent it away.

I spent a majority of Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday finishing the chapter, and all Friday morning revising it. As I searched and re-searched some of 100+ library books sitting in my office, I found myself slowly taking on the role of historian, and really enjoying it. I even had a few nerdy historian moments: at one point I jumped up out of my chair in victory because of a particular reference I found in a footnote (a footnote!) of a secondary book. Tell me, does this excite you as much as me:

On page 235 of J.T. Grein's biography, written by his wife Alice and edited by George Bernard Shaw, is a footnote referencing playbills from one season (probably early 1900's) of the Committee on German Theatre in London. Isn't that awesome?! They have playbills at the Theatre Museum and the Victoria & Albert Museum in London! Even the best scholars of the period only reference the Committee - they know little else about the plays, directors, actors, or critical reception. Sweet!

Ah... it feels great. Theatre historians have an added challenge, in that they're trying to recreate an event, and a fleeting one, at that. So we find ourselves relying on contemporary accounts (someone's journal, letters), reviews (from newspapers, magazines), or other histories (perhaps someone who lived closer to the event). So when we find little footnotes and casual references, we get excited and start jumping around our offices and when we convey that excitement to others, we usually get a "Oh, well... it's good that someone's researching that."

I like to think of it as unearthing information for future generations. And, well, in order to dig it up... can we say "research trip to London?"

History 180 Edition #2

George Michael Resurfaces!

Wee Fish Ewe a Mare Egrets Moose

When I was a little girl, I had a nightgown with the following phrases on it:

Wee fish ewe a mare egrets moose
Wee fish ewe a mare egrets moose
Wee fish ewe a mare egrets moose
Panda hippo gnu deer!

I think it's brilliant, though now this catchy version is now stuck in our heads permanantly...it doesn't help that I've been singing it at the top of my lungs for a few days now...

Sharing in a Glonous History

This past weekend our good friends Morgan and Dave visited the lot of us down here in Columbus. Our many adventures led us to the Hong Kong Buffet, where we discovered chopsticks with... let's say... a creative usage of English. For your reading pleasure, I repeat it here, exactly as it is printed on the paper packaging:

"Welcome to Chinese Restaurant.
Please try your Nice Chinese Food With Chopsticks
the traditional and typical of Chinese glonous history
and cultual."

Instructions on the other side read:

"Learn how to use your chopsticks

Tuk under
and held firmly

tnurnb

Add second chcostick
hold it as you hold
a pencil

Hold tirst chopstick
in originai position
move the second
one up and down
Now you can pick
up anything:"

The colon at the end of the instructions means - we think - that we are to provide examples of our picking-up prowess. Cars? Small children? Subatomic particles? We're also assuming that the phrase "traditional and typical of Chinese glonous history and cultual" is an invitation to share in years of glorious Chinese history and culture. Please note that the word "tnurnb" (read "thumb") is floating completely apart from the instruction to "Tuk under and held firmly."

One other note... we also found these chopsticks at a Vietnamese restaurant. Does Vietnam share a similar glonous culinary history?

Oh, the food was good, too. Great, actually.

What did they do to me?!

Look at those eyes! Yesterday our very own Maeby Ray Magic made a trip to the vet to get spayed. The surgery went fine, and everyone at the vet said she was such a well behaved, friendly dog (yay!). Despite a little whining and a lot of "Pay attention to me!" nuzzling, our The Pooch has been crashed on the couch, as pictured above. She's on some pain meds and a mild sedative for the next couple days, which tones down her puppy enthusiasm for life considerably. Man... watching your dog lope around the house with her head practically dragging on the ground almost breaks your heart. But it's all for the best in the long run, and I think it's a testament to her personality (and hopefully some of our dog-training skills) that above all, she just wants a comfortable place to lie down closest to Beth and I. Oh, The Pooch indeed.

Florence, Italy

After 10 glorious days in beautiful Tuscany, the scenery never got old. My first taste of it was flying over the Northern Italian Mountains as the colored leaves bled down the peaks.

I was visiting my sister Kate during her semester abroad in Florence, Italy. Her school is located directly across from the Duomo (Cathedral), one of the most famous in Italy. This is essentially her view during her voice lessons.

And even though there's NO way to NOT look like a tourist when that is exactly what you are. But it helps to remember that tourists come in all shapes and sizes...


Until the next time...in ROME!

A bit of autumn gardening...

I cleaned up some our plants for the winter this afternoon, trimming back day lilies and grasses, moving the jade plant inside, and cutting down the morning glories. The morning glories had taken over both sides of the porch. They wrapped around some of the day lilies, the downspout, the roof. I even had to cut free my bike from time to time. Once they were all cut down, I marveled at the huge pile of morning glory and how it had grown out of a pile of seeds that could easily fit in the palm of your hand.


Earlier in the season, as they slowly climbed the lower lattice-work on the porch, Beth and I feared that they would die there like last year. However, during one clean-up day, we discovered that they were actually growing under the porch itself. After Beth pulled them out from under the porch and trained them up the railings, they sprang to life again. Beth observed at the time: "There has to be a sermon illustration in this."

As I pulled down one of the banks of morning glories, this little buddy fell out. I thought he was a heavy leaf at first, until he started climbing back up the railing. I'm guessing he measured 4-5 inches long. I haven't named him yet.

The Greatest Free Show on Earth!

This past Friday, Karl, Jacqui, Ryan, Marcia, Chip, and I made the annual pilgrimage (yes, I think we can call it that) to Circleville, Ohio... home of “The Greatest Free Show on Earth,” the Circleville Pumpkin Show!


Of course, pumpkins are the main attraction there. Pictured above are the top three winners in the (you guessed it) pumpkin contest. On the left is this year’s winner at 1324 pounds!


Also adding largesse to the proceedings is the giant pie. At 14 feet in diameter, it probably re-took their record for World’s Largest Pumpkin Pie.


This year is the 100th anniversary of the show. A lot changes over the years, huh? This year they added webcams to their website.


There’s Miss Pumpkin 2006!


And the Mayor of Circleville!


Look at the line for pumpkin donuts at Lyndsey’s Bakery! Chip and Marcia waited 45 minutes for 2 dozen warm ones!

Leaving on a Jet...Well, a Plane, anyway...

I left Columbus yesterday. After two of the worst, most nightmarish days of my life, I left Columbus to come to Italy.

It's not that everything is resolved or that I even deserve a trip right now. Quite the opposite- I should probably stay in the states and fix everything. I should organize my business and oversee the process.

But what that would look like is most likely very similar to what I was doing over the past few days, crying cursing the heavens, hyperventilating, having anxiety attacks in Target, and more crying. Not to mention terrorizing every Microcenter, Radio Shack, and Mac Store employee in the Tri-State area. It was not pretty. It would be an understatement to say that Nick has been my guiding light and rock over the past few days.

Besides the fact that I get to spend 10 days in Italy with my best friend and sister, Kate, it is best that I leave the country, I'm thinking.

At the Columbus airport, as I was waiting in line to get a very unhealthy drink in a certain not-to-be-named coffee establishment, the woman in front of me was finishing her order, and there were clearly problems behind the counter. So she calmly started managing the situation, with grace, patience and humor. This drink is his, it goes here, the total is this much, give her this change. It was cool.

So as we were waiting for our drinks, and joking a bit, I said "You MUST run your own business." and she laughed and said "Is it that obvious? Well, it's hard to let go sometimes."

And HOW! But managers NEED to let go! The question is, how can a personality like the one it takes to run a business LET GO long enough for the experts to fix it? AND during a crisis?

Well, God orchestrates the motherboard on the store PC to self-destruct 48 hours before the manager's planned trip to go to Italy, thus clearing the way for her dear husband and brilliant friends to step in and help.

That's how.

Light of Passage

Check out this short video we posted on YouTube. It features the Paul Robinett candles that we all know and love. Put together by some of the employees of the shop. Enjoy!

What the Hail?!

Last Wednesday evening central Ohio got pounded with some pretty awesome storms. We're talking ice-cube-sized hail, tornado-siren, streets-flooded, end-of-the-world-black-skies, half-my-students-didn't-show-up-to-class storms. They were sweet. So we got some pictures of the hail that briefly pelted our houses and cars. Fortunately, no major damage, aside from the plants looking like they survived a hurricane.

White Water Rafting on the Lower Gauley

Whether Weather or Not

God and I are in a fight. Well, to be more specific, I'm being a huge baby about something, and God is waiting for me to stop whining.

For most of my life, I have pretended to be OK when the skys open up and pour a deluge of cold, mean rain on an important event. I have been able to rationalize myself out of it, and even pulled strings to just "make it work." I understand "you need to have a rain plan" more than most. It will all turn out fine. Pictures look better when it's cloudy. It's good luck. It looks like it's lightening up. It'll pass.

But I'm not OK with it. In fact, this, more than anything, is something I simply cannot understand. And I don't think that this is a lack of faith in God. I think it is an excessive faith in God. Weather is easy. Weather is peanuts. Weather is a flicker of light. God can handle weather.

But so often, he doesn't. So often, when an event or business or joy or fun or fellowship or excitement or visitors or whatever depend on it, I look at it as a direct affront to that moment.

Maybe I shouldn't consider it a problem, or an issue, or even something to write about...because "you can't change the weather!" But God CAN! So, is my problem my excessive faith in God, or that I need to just deal with yet another event being drowned?

History 180 with Nick

Check it out, History Fans! Last night Karl and I put together the inaugural edition of a history video blog on YouTube. We're calling it History 180, because it's a 3 minute look at different historical characters, events, etc. This first one is on a topic that I knew off the top of my head: Charles Lindbergh. We're trying to see if we can use the video diary format to teach - hopefully something a little more constructive than a whiney video blog.

You can watch the video here. It's a little (okay, a lot) rough. Karl and I found last night to be a good learning session. Let us know what you think, and look for future editions!

In a BAND UNIFORM?

So, only my beautiful twin sisters, Marina and Irina, can look THIS good in a band uniform! Love you guys!

Few and Far Between

I just saw a confederate soldier sitting at the bus stop.

Man, I wish things like that would happen more often...

The Crushing Weight of Cliché

For those of you who have known me for, well, over two seconds, you know I'm a fairly dramatic person. I like being loud and extremist and especially over-expressive. I'm not sure why, because I don't like being the center of attention. In fact, that is a great fear of mine. But I am not the only one in my circle of [theatre] friends who would agree with the above statements.

I decided recently that this strange dichotomy responds to an inherent rebellion against cliché, in general. And by that I mean those film-like, run-of the mill, after-school special reactions, emotions, and moments that govern our lives. Even cliché relationships just rub me the wrong way- for example, the expectation that in-laws have to be so heinous? That idea is COMPLETELY foreign to me because my in-laws are AWESOME! But, still, people perpetuate the stereotype. And even reactions to news, whether good, bad, shocking, or saddening, always smack of been-there-done-that. Are human beings really SO limited to "And we have decided that the so-and-so award goes to...Jane Smith!" Jane: Oh! Me?!

I mean, Come On! ($5 to the first person who remembers "Jane Smith" and her heaving...oh, it happened!)

I just think that we should all be more inventive with our reactions! And if they need be stereotypical, so be it, but make them BIG! I think that by being dramatic, we will take a moment that can turn into a ABC classic "Daddy, I'm Their Mama Now", "Did you Hear What Happened to Angela?" or "Ace Hits the Big Time" special, and give it a "Anything Goes," "Les Mis," or "Rent" spin.

It's more entertaining, less expected, and better with Jazz Hands!

Spreading the Blog-Love...All Over the World!

My family has recently dispersed to various points over the globe: my little sister Abbey arrived on Calvin's campus last week, and my other little sister Kate is falling more in love with Italy by the second. I am so proud of both of them and their adventurous spirits...and I am eternally thankful for this medium that enables them to share images and essays of their time away. I thought I would just take a moment to highlight their blogs, which you may find to the right of this post.

I gather this list for somewhat selfish reasons...it makes my morning web-routine much easier (as I DO check each and every one of these blogs/sites EVERY DAY), but also to highlight the talents and adventures of my friends and family. Please check them out!

Still Saying "I Do..."

Five years ago today I married my wife at Emmanuel Christian Church in Stoneboro, Pennsylvania, in front of a crowd of friends and family. They came from all over: Pennsylvania, Michigan, Massachusetts, Oregon, Ohio… and since then they’ve spread to so many more places. We celebrated our marriage nearby with everyone at The Farm, a beautiful old piece of property with renovated barns, old farmhouses, horse pastures, and hillside views of a lake. I remember that it rained up until early Friday evening (the night before) and then cleared up into a gorgeously sunny and cool September 1st.

As I’ve told Beth repeatedly, these have been the best five years of my life, and I thank all of our friends and family members for being part of it and making it all the better. Gosh, we’ve already been through a year of living and working in Grand Rapids, then four years of grad school and two apartments in Columbus. This includes multiple jobs, plenty of national and international travel, new additions to our extended families, a church family, a loveable dog, and now good friends living next door.

Using the internet kind of highlights the idea of the world bearing witness to your actions. You can’t really say anything without everyone being able to hear, see, or respond to you. And I guess that’s a good thing – it’s a sort of accountability found in a large community.

So again, before anyone and everyone gathered at their computers, I wish my wife Beth a Happy Anniversary and thank her for five wonderful years. I can’t wait to see what’s next.

Nick

My Homeless Guy

I run Paul's shop in the Short North Arts District of Columbus. It's great- very urban, hip, happenin' (do people still say that?)...always something going on. It is a wonderful mix of the most colorful additions to our society. One of these additions is My Homeless Guy, Leslie.

I adopted Leslie as My Homeless Guy a few days after I took over at the shop in March. Or, should I say, he adopted me as his "Little Candle Shop Girl" about the same time. He is a large man, with a forever smiling face and bright happy eyes. He usually wears a tan long-sleeved shirt, dark brown slacks and carries a mysterious black duffel bag that appears to be perpetually empty. He is terribly paranoid, though, and is endlessly warning me of this guy or that gang...he promises me every day he's going to teach me Kung Fu. And he would want me to mention that his favorite movie is King Kong. It must have been the most amazing thing that has ever happened to him, because he can recite entire scenes of the movie and describe in detail how he was feeling during them. Someone gave him a free ticket a few months back. He's seen it once.

Every morning, he waits at the bus stop in front of the shop door quietly until I arrive. (I like to imagine he's waiting for something monumental...Godot, perhaps?) After I open the shop, he approaches the door with a smile just for me, flinging it open with abandon, once again knocking down the easel and sign just inside the door. I rush to catch it before it rains glass and wax, and just quietly say "Careful, Leslie."

He apologizes, and says "Hey, there, beautiful. You still married?" I say yes and ask him how he's doing. He proceeds to warn me about the gang du jour and offers again to teach me how to fend them off. "All you have to do is call me, Little Candle Shop Girl, and I'll get 'em for you." I thank him and he asks me if I've seen King Kong, and goes on to explain his favorite scene (the T-Rex/Kong fight, naturally). He backs out of the door after just a few minutes, says "You be careful, dear. I want to see you tomorrow." And he's gone.

Every morning, it's the same thing. For the first few weeks, I was annoyed. I was terrified that a customer was going to come in, or that he was going to get in the way of orders I was rushing to get out...or worse, scare someone off or break something. I tried ignorning him, but his dancing eyes and rosy smile were hard to overlook. Then a few weeks ago, I was reminded of a childhood parable...Jesus could be anyone. "I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me."

So I started forcing myself to see him differently, and after a while, it wasn't so hard. Now, every day as he leaves me with that toothy grin and sparkling eyes, I think, "There goes Jesus." And I look forward to tomorrow, because I get to see Him, in the flesh, every day.

Going Out of My Head...I mean, ...Way...

As many of you know, Nick and I have been teaching a Young Marrieds Adult Sunday School class at our church. Many of our discussions have touched on "love" being an action word. We have also stressed the importance of exactly how we show love to coworkers, friends, and aquaintences. And because it's sort of odd to talk about "loving" the creep in the next cubicle (holla, Bethany!), we redefined it as "caring" about said person.

But I realized the other day, with help from my dear friend Jessie, that the easiest way for most people to feel they are loved is to see that someone has gone out of their way to care for them. This can include a physical "going out of their way," in the sense that they had to relocate themselves in order to be near you or to do something for you, or to mentally "go out of their way" to actively listen to someone or interact in a discussion with you.

At first, this seemed too simple, but then I thought about the times I have felt loved by my friends, and each of these times included people "going out of their way" for me. And, on the flip side, the times I have felt unloved are times when people are "too busy" to help, or have ignored me for a time. And I have found that the easiest way to fix this is to actively go out of my way for that person.

So go out of your way for someone- it might fix a long standing rivalry or disagreement, or just reconnect you with someone, or merely show someone you see every day that you care. And it's always good to give people a little glimmer of love.

My Family. My Big Hilarious Weird Family.

Black Holes

For fear of sounding preachy, I'm going to go light on the spiritual implications of this topic. But ever since I graduated from college in 2001, I have been on a search to fill the black holes of my life. These are people with whom I was very close at one time, yet currently have no contact. I suspect every one of us has a number of these holes in their past.

For a comparitively short life, I feel like I have entirely too many black holes. This has a lot to do with two major personality flaws:

1. I expect a lot of myself, and, therefore, expect a lot of other people. I am disappointed easily.

2. I am frightfully loyal - to a fault -, but one disloyal act by someone can cause me to break all ties.

I have made contact with a number of my black holes...an old boyfriend, my high school best friend, a college friend...and each experience has been overwhelmingly positive. There are still some left, though. And there isn't a day that goes by that I wish they were filled.

So I'm still trying- but one of the biggies, a roomate from college, still alludes me. We are two of the most incompatable people on earth, for no other reason than we both think our history/family/worldview is better/smarter/cooler than the other. What amazes me about it, though, is that we both think we're entirely right. And justified! As if it were some deep-seeded family battle fought long ago, we have become characters to one another, larger than life and more terrible than reality. And we have our friends and families on our sides for backup. Hilarious.

Like fine wine, I suspect time has matured us both, and we may be able to actually have a reasonable conversation. But perhaps not.

So, I'm gearing up for the next black hole destruction. We'll see who it will be. But I'm ready, and I'm way too young to have so many holes in my past.

The Power of "Who?"

What makes a celebrity? Anyone who has been on a theatre trip to London comes back with countless stories of sitting behind Sir Ian McKellen, shaking hands with Patrick Stewart, or brushing shoulders with Alan Rickman. Just between Nick and I and our 4 or 5 collective trips to the UK, we have 20+ stories of brushes with "greatness." As I write, our friend Christina is in London meeting with other theatre greats for her dissertation over fish and chips. Celebrity is different there than here.

In London, these untouchables live amongst the "normal people" of the city. They take in a play, go to the movies, eat at Wagamama... Not so in the States (this is just one of the major cultural problems I have with this country...I often wonder if it would have been THAT bad if the colonies lost the war...I LIKE tea!). In fact, Americans build celebrities up to the point where commoners cannot even grasp how these gods could actually BUY GROCERIES themselves, or PUMP GAS, or even CHANGE THEIR KID'S DIAPER. Let's take a picture to prove it! And then sell it to a magazine. Then buy that magazine for $4.

But one man's celebrity is another man's "Who?" One of my all-time favorite actors is a man named Mark Rylance. Nick has met him a few times, and we have seen him in a number of shows. I won't wax poetic about him here, but suffice it to say that he is one of the most fantastic and moving actors of our lifetime, and a pivotal cog in the wheel of theatre history, yet he is many people's "Who?". This doesn't make people any less cultured, or in-the-know, there are just different circles. (Pretty much any sports figure is a "Who?" for me.)

The point, besides the fact that I'm obsessed with a 45 year old British man, is that we all have our celebrities- those people we look up to, admire, emulate. And we think, if we were to ever meet them, they would see in us the true silent respect we have for them...not the hysterical obsession of their other crazed fans. Because we're more composed, better at presenting ourselves, and we're their greatest fan! And maybe they'll see that and give us tons of money for being their respectful admirer.

Is celebrity contagious? Most of us, deep down, think so...or at least, hope so.

I don't think I ever could meet Mark. (The closest I have ever gotten is documented here - First picture, Beth thinks she's sneaky paparazzi before a show. Second picture, OH DEAR GOD HE'S SMILING AT ME! PUT THE CAMERA AWAY!!! BREATHE! BREATHE!!)




If I ever were to meet him face to face, and I haven't yet, I would probably pass out. My palms are sweating just thinking of this possibility. I know myself enough to know that, even though I have the utmost admiration for him, I would come off an absolute blathering idiot and probably make a fool of myself. So I shall admire him from across the pond, secretly hoping one day he finds out about me, flies to Columbus, asks me to direct him in Beckett's "Play" as Man and I become wildly famous! Well, I can dream...

What is the deal with... women and compliments...?

Do you ever have those moments when you realize that you are the material for comedic fodder? I heard a comedian do a bit on this topic the other day. As I was laughing, I slowly realized that she was describing me. Her main point was that when women receive a compliment, they do one of two things: 1. Dodge/Deny it or 2. Reveal something embarassing about themselves. (And this does tend to be women, I've noticed, far more than men.) She cited various examples, specifically "Wow, I love your dress!" "Oh, I got it for $2 at Goodwill..." and "Have you lost weight?" "My doctor says I have a disease." And there are various other ways of deflection, such as a girl I knew a while back who would turn it back around on you, such as "Your hair looks great today!" "YOUR hair looks great today!" or "I love that dress." "I love YOUR dress!" This is a annoyingly bad habit I picked up as well- I'm trying to quit.

I have only met one woman who receives compliments beautifully. I am always so impressed with how humbly she takes them, making sure to say thank you and being truly proud, but not egotisitical, of her achievements. I love giving her compliments.

My question is this: Why is this so true? It can't honestly be that every woman in America has THAT bad of self-esteem or gets embarassed that quickly, or can it?

I've been trying to get better at receiving compliments. The first thing, I've realized, is looking people in the eye and just saying an honest "Thanks!" Any further information borders on either deflection or embellishment, so I proceed with caution. i.e., A woman this morning at Life Time complimented my eye color (immediately after typing that, I wanted to add an adjective before eye color such as "freaky" or "fake-looking"...but I didn't...aren't you proud?). This caused a problem, because it made me even more wary of looking her in the eye, but I did...and just said "Thanks!" Of course, this small success comes after a long line of failures over the past few weeks... :) But a success nonetheless!

Anyway, I challenge you this week, as I am challenging myself, to take a compliment well. (Not to mention, give compliments liberally...which is a whole other post!) I am going to work on it...

Bartender, Give Me 2 Hits of the Snooze Button

I am not a morning person. In fact, it doesn't matter how early I go to bed, how well I've slept, or how rested I feel after my shower. Getting up...actually WAKING up...is just the most difficult thing for me. It always has been, and I thought it was going to get better as I got older because my parents get up at 3 AM or whatever every day and they seem fine with it! (We won't discuss the fact that they go to bed at 9:30 every night! :) Love you, Mom and Dad!) This Summer, I have moved my workouts to before work, which means a 6 AM wake-up time, 5 days a week. For most of you this is normal, and I commend you. For me, however, this was the challenge of a LIFE TIME. (Pun intended, but you can't make me like it.)

I also get very dramatic (I know, you're all SHOCKED!) in the morning, and tend to proclaim ridiculous grandiose absolutes within the first 15 minutes of being up. A small sampling:

"I HATE STUPID BREAKFAST!"
"I am going to sleep all day on Saturday and Sunday!"
"I am never staying up to watch the Daily Show AGAIN!"
"I'm going to come home from work and take a 4 hour nap!"
"I am going to bed at 6 PM tonight!"
"I'm going back to bed- call in to work for me."
"I'm quitting my job."

I have yet to follow through on ANY of these promises, nor, as I said, do I really want to. I really feel badly for Nick, all sweet and kind in the morning, happy to get up and start the day...except for the fact that the duty has fallen to him to get me up. Poor thing. I don't hear the alarm, no matter how loud or annoying, so he has to wake me up. And that's a true feat for anyone to conquer.

Especially the other day, when I was 150% CONVINCED that it was Sunday morning. I was SO confused that Nick was trying to wake me up so early, and actually started getting angry at him and rolled away from him, burying my face in the pillow. Snooze Button. The alarm went off again, and he tried to wake me up. I said, "NO!" and I shove my head under the pillow. Snooze Button. Finally he said, "Beth, you have to go to work today" and I was like, WHAT THE HECK, IT'S FREAKING SUNDAY! But it wasn't. It was Wednesday. And 15 minutes later I was fine with it.

*****This post made possible by a fabulously large snooze button and my sweet husband's determination to kick me the heck out of bed. (Thanks, Sweetie!)*****

Easy as Contacts - Options - #1 - OK

We got new phones! I had my heart set on that sexy little pink RAZR number, but unfortunately, the Verizon version has received less-than-favorable reviews...so here we are with our brand-new LGs. AND I will have you know, I sprung for the hot little bluetooth earpiece! Now I too will join the ranks of seemingly schizophrenic citizens talking to themselves in public. Awesome.

Of course, the obvious downside of switching phones is having to retype the contacts into the new one...yes, I know we can pay the $19.99 and Verizon will do it for us, but I enjoy this biannual ritual. I opened the list in my old phone, which almost immediately looks antiquated (how could I have LIVED without animation, mp3s and mobile web?!?!), and started with the top name, Abbey.

I continued down the list, alphabetically, and realized with a rush that all I had to do would be not transfer a name from one phone to another to all but delete them from my circle of communication. Immediately a call from those forgone contacts would come up as unrecognized. For a person who demands having immediate answers at her fingertips, deletion is not an option...but still, some contacts didn't make it to my new phone.

It is frightening on many levels the control we now have over the people with which we communicate...I only know a small handful of phone numbers by heart, and most of those are childhood contacts...none of which I call on a daily basis. If they're not in my phone, I not only won't call them...but I CAN'T call them. Scary.

I am going to make it a point this month to call each of the people in my contacts list at least once, because if I have this much control over my circle of communication, I can't blame anyone else for lapses in connection but myself.