Awkward Truths

My bangs oft resemble a bowl cut. OFT.

While driving home from the airport with my windows down, I was sprayed by a skunk. While driving. In a car. As politely as she could, my Grandma demanded I go take a shower.

I walk around with my skirt tucked up in my pantyhose, like...a lot. It should be noted that my coworkers are typically male and awkward and blush when i so much as put on mascara in the car. i expect they'll let me walk around with my skirt all up all day, so long as they don't have to make eye contact.

Finding earwax in your earbuds. You know.

In a heroic effort to stand up during a particularly rigorous 2 minutes of spin class, my knees buckled and i fell down, clinging to the handlebars of my stationary bike.

Unfortunately yoga didn't go much better - where running = yoga: 
via running is impossible
just a lot of laying around and trying to ignore the stupid teacher who won't stop teaching and wants even the most hopeless of cases to succeed when all Hopeless Case wants to do is nap and good lord if the 74 year old man next to me can do a half-crescent moon then what am i doing with my life

I am mad obsessed with the Cosby Show. It's kind of all-consuming right now. I find myself constantly wanting to tweet things like, "Isn't Sandra like the most annoying person on earth??" but i know everyone would be too busy live tweeting GoT to care and also half of you don't even appreciate my twitter gold like i think you should.
Side note: I named my fish Cosby. Because he's so funny and definitely a people fish.

Second side note: It is probably an awkward truth that i am also mad obsessed with my twitter account and am on the verge of constantly being offended that you guys never retweet me or anything but hey who's counting.

She says it best:

My coworker came up whisperasked me if I heard our other coworker passing gas. Um, wasn't listening, weirdo.

This gross old lady crush I've been nursing on Hunter Hayes: 
Also of course I'm old enough to have an old lady crush. OF COURSE.

stay true, stay awkward, DONT LET ANYONE DULL YOUR SPARKLE,


Pondering Heaven

Sometimes I ponder (nachdenke) about Heaven. And, by extension, I acknowledge the fact that there is a Hell, but I spend less time pondering on that, because by the grace of the Good Lord I am not going there.

A [Christianly] friend once told me that she read a book about how a man went to Heaven and was stounded by what he saw: everyone was in a youthful body ( 1 Cor 15:52-54), and each man did whatever he did on earth, but was a billion times better at it. And I believe it.

I naturally wonder what I would do in heaven. I used to fear that there would be a lot of churchly singing and harp playing and maybe we'd eat some goldfish, like at VBS, which as you might imagine sounds really boring. I bought that Randy Alcorn book about heaven four years ago...and maybe after four more years I'll actually get around to reading it.

But, anymore, I don't think Heaven will be all that boring. I bet it's beautiful, and I bet I could travel all round Heaven and meet all sorts of people with different stories but still with one Truth.

I love hiking and canoeing on a lake and rafting down rivers and being in the desert and seeing a cactus and going to Alaska and standing by a glacier and swimming in the ocean and not getting stung by jellyfish. And I think I love these things because they are so organic and simple, and it makes me think of God. And about the raw vision He had for our brand new earth. What a Visionary, He is.

I hope that Heaven is like that. With raw, organic creation, unblemished and unbroken. And I will climb mountains and swim in streams and jog in fields, worshiping with my God and brothers and sisters, free from strife and angst and fear of not getting that promotion or gaining 43 more pounds.

I ponder Heaven a little more intensely when I feel like I'm going to die, truth be told. This past Thursday I had a really rocky flight. The whole plane was silent as we rolled up and down the sky, and being both morbid and a pessimist, I broached the idea of death...in the way only a twenty-something-year-old in good health who knows deep down that This plane will probably not actually crash could.

I wondered What if I actually die right now. And in my naive young way, I replied, I don't actually have anything to lose. Death has lost its sting.

Meeting God is going to be beautiful. Either way it's a win, right? I live a little longer or I go hike mountains and forge rivers with Jesus. Maybe climb a tree. WHO KNOWS.

I hoped my family wouldn't be sad for too long. I hoped they would think about how happy I was in Heaven, not listening to harp music, and I hoped they realize they would be joining me in their own time. We'd meet inside the pearly gates and I'd give them the grand tour and show them all the amazing things, only I'd probably have eaten all the good food already because I am a Baptist after all.

And I imagined walking through those gates and seeing my Grandpa for the first time in years, only healthy, before the cancer, and younger and more handsome than I'd ever remembered. And he'd smile his cocky grin and say, "Hey, Britt." And I'd probably rattle on for a while and tell him how I'd sometimes thought of him, like at graduation or during exams, because I knew he'd be thrilled I became an engineer. It brings tears to my eyes to think I'll see my Grandpa again, and we will be at peace together.

As the plane continued to toss about, I thought about one member of my family. The one with a hardened heart, who fights and rejects God and faith and wants nothing to do with our soft Christianity. And it pressed heavily on my heart to know that, if I or he died today, not only would I not see him in Heaven, but he'd be somewhere terrible, in unending agony. I didn't know what to do other than pray. I hope the Lord saves this burdened soul of his. I pray the Lord shows me how to help.

I'm guess you figured out that my plane did not, in fact, crash. I loosened my grip on the seat and read and did some more pondering. While it would be naive to pretend that plane ride was a true brush with death and that I was so so faithful and godly that I barely even got scared, I have no doubt that when death does come, I will only have greater things waiting.

Death has no sting.



Boot Scootin'

Note: This song has an expletive in it. 

a few summers back, i lived a couple of blocks behind campus in the jankiest basement of a duplex on Van Dyke. i used to gun my little 5-speed light blue sentra up the death-trap driveway, and then i'd whip around corners and back roads, windows down, and blare this song out my speakers, which were probably also janky.

this monday morning Air Traffic Controller came up on my spotify, and just in the nick of time.

Before 8:00 am ...
i discovered my favorite white blouse's armpit stains

i had big beef (30 minutes worth) with Microsoft's online support

...and then ran late

my pants were being awkward and poochy. typical.

i woke up

So imagine how happy my little heart was when my old jam popped up.

muy happy. ganz happy. i was boot scootin' all over the bathroom while brushing my teeth and very decidedly not putting on makeup.

I hope you scoot a little too.

happy wednesday.


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