No handlebars, no handlebars, no handlebars!
Whoa-ho it’s been a long time since I’ve updated. A lot has happened since my last update, and yet, at the same time not much at all. Have some highlights…
A new animal has entered my life. His name is Heroin Bob, after the character in SLC Punk, and he’s lived up to the name. Heroin Bob is an oscar… which is, for those who don’t know, a really big and aggressive fish. (In theory). He looks most fearsome. He’s also Exhibit A for the trite old saying of “looks can be deceiving”. The creature is positively harmless, much like his namesake. He also nearly died when I first got him. Heroin Bob died in SLC Punk. I put him (the fish, not the man) in my newly set up tank, and he sank to the bottom where he stayed for the first couple of days. I did everything I could; calling upon my vast knowledge and fortunes. As it turns out, oscars become very attached to their owners, and can even recognize them out of a crowd. Heroin Bob missed his former owner, and his behavior was actually “fish depression” and “separation anxiety”. He goes through a similar behavior pattern every time I’m gone longer than 24 hours. Emo kid.
Dear Flobots, thank you for sharing with us. Your performance was enjoyable and you all are very talented musicians-but next time you come around to Fort Collins, I will be spending my six dollars on something that is more like a Chipotle burrito. It’s not JUST that the hip hop genre fails to impress me; it’s really that I like to have a reason to become a part of a riot. While your moving lyrics such as “Fight with, fight with, fight with twos! Fight with, fight with, fight with twos! Fight with, fight with, fight with twos!” are delivered with conviction, I have no idea what you’re chanting rhythmically about. Love, Stephanie.
The History Channel and I have managed to overcome our differences. In the past, all this channel would show me was program after program of cowboys and Indians drama. I politely declined to spend my time this way in favor of just about anything else. However, I’ve gotten involved in this Monster Quest series! They think the Kraken could be a giant Humboldt squid-which can coordinate attacks Velociraptor-style, grow to the size of a school bus, AND their beaks can cut through the same chain mail dive suits that are used to investigate shark attacks!
I also hear a Dracula-themed amusement park is in the making in Romania. [Mel, when this is finally a reality… what d’ya say?]
I graduate really soon. Like, REALLY soon. Stay tuned for party plans.
I’m going through some old-fashioned burnout with my leadership position at my church. There are great kids in the youth group, but I’m feeling sucked dry, and lacking conviction that I’m being effectual at all… amongst the kids and the leaders. I was rocking this gig for so long…. Quitting has been suggested by many close to me, as “you can’t be a leader if your heart isn’t in it” (direct quote from a better friend). I don’t know how I feel about that. Burnout can’t be the death sentence for leaders. Not just in the church, but leaders anywhere. It’s an endemic disease in human nature, as far as I can tell. If every leader left their positions because of burnout… I think we’d have to redefine the term “leader”. I dunno. I’m pressing through… walking the tight-rope between faking it and being unflatteringly authentic with the kids and leaders. The right people know what I’m going through, so, we’ll see what happens.
I once upon a time said that I’d never work for a church. I still stand by that statement… even though I’m, uhm, kinda doing it.
There has also been a whole mini-relationship since my last post! Through Jeremy’s ex-girlfriend, I met a guy named Mike. From the very first words we spoke, it was as though angels parted, clouds sang, flowers shone, and the sun bloomed. I wanted to pick out curtains for our future house together. The weirdest part of all-Mike felt the same way… this, initially, freaked me out. Our relationship moved really fast from the get-go, which played out comfortably and naturally, and yet it was incredibly intimidating. Alas, timing is a bitch, and I met him just after he had decided to move to Connecticut to be closer to his family. So, after a month-or-so of us flirting with the idea of an actual full-fledged relationship, Mike decided that it just wouldn’t be right to pursue things further. And our relationship ended just as fast as it started.
While that really sucked, I can’t really chuck this story into my unfortunately large Sob Story Pile. I’m really glad Mike happened to me. Every guy in my past is seen in a different light now. What I look for in men has been redefined. I never saw myself as a girl who needed affirmation from guys to be happy, but now, looking back, I so was That Girl. Since Mike, being single is much easier than it ever has been, because, for the first time in my life, I’m okay with waiting for the next Mike-Or-Better… and I’m excited, because I get to start making NEW mistakes, not repeating OLD mistakes.
I’ve got my first bonified wrinkle. It is right in the middle of my forehead, just between my eyebrows. You can’t really see it unless you’re looking for it in the realm of inches away from my face, but, it is an official indication that I’m actually aging. Wrinkled at 22… gross. A lot of me wishes I was still in high school, especially watching all the kids at the Vineyard. A lot of me wishes I still lived in the dorms, because that was damn fun. A lot of me wishes I still was at Deer Creek church, because the leaders at the youth group seemed to do their jobs effortlessly, and they were all people I wanted to be just like.
But then, I look back, and though being younger would be nice, I wouldn’t want the neuroses that go along with being young, no matter what was offered. Growing up is pretty cool. Getting old is pretty cool. Relationships do get better with age and experience. School is actually fun. It is cool to like nerdy things. There’s something indescribably satisfying about being able to take care of yourself. Faith and relating to a God may not come as easily, but when it does come, it’s more beautiful and convincing than ever. Life, as I’ve got it defined now, continues to be good.
I can ride my bike with no handlebars,
No handlebars,
No handlebars.
I can ride my bike with no handlebars,
No handlebars,
No handlebars.
Look at me!
Look at me!
Hands in the air like it’s good to be alive!
And I’m a famous rapper,
Even when the paths’re all crookedy.
I can show you how to do-si-do,
I can show you how to scratch a record,
I can take apart the remote control,
And I can almost put it back together.
I can tie a knot in a cherry stem,
I can tell you about Leif Erikson,
I know all the words to "De Colores",
And "I'm Proud to be an American",
Me and my friend saw a platypus,
Me and my friend made a comic book,
And guess how long it took?
I can do anything that I want cuz, look:
I can keep rhythm with no metronome
No metronome
No metronome
A new animal has entered my life. His name is Heroin Bob, after the character in SLC Punk, and he’s lived up to the name. Heroin Bob is an oscar… which is, for those who don’t know, a really big and aggressive fish. (In theory). He looks most fearsome. He’s also Exhibit A for the trite old saying of “looks can be deceiving”. The creature is positively harmless, much like his namesake. He also nearly died when I first got him. Heroin Bob died in SLC Punk. I put him (the fish, not the man) in my newly set up tank, and he sank to the bottom where he stayed for the first couple of days. I did everything I could; calling upon my vast knowledge and fortunes. As it turns out, oscars become very attached to their owners, and can even recognize them out of a crowd. Heroin Bob missed his former owner, and his behavior was actually “fish depression” and “separation anxiety”. He goes through a similar behavior pattern every time I’m gone longer than 24 hours. Emo kid.
Dear Flobots, thank you for sharing with us. Your performance was enjoyable and you all are very talented musicians-but next time you come around to Fort Collins, I will be spending my six dollars on something that is more like a Chipotle burrito. It’s not JUST that the hip hop genre fails to impress me; it’s really that I like to have a reason to become a part of a riot. While your moving lyrics such as “Fight with, fight with, fight with twos! Fight with, fight with, fight with twos! Fight with, fight with, fight with twos!” are delivered with conviction, I have no idea what you’re chanting rhythmically about. Love, Stephanie.
The History Channel and I have managed to overcome our differences. In the past, all this channel would show me was program after program of cowboys and Indians drama. I politely declined to spend my time this way in favor of just about anything else. However, I’ve gotten involved in this Monster Quest series! They think the Kraken could be a giant Humboldt squid-which can coordinate attacks Velociraptor-style, grow to the size of a school bus, AND their beaks can cut through the same chain mail dive suits that are used to investigate shark attacks!
I also hear a Dracula-themed amusement park is in the making in Romania. [Mel, when this is finally a reality… what d’ya say?]
I graduate really soon. Like, REALLY soon. Stay tuned for party plans.
I’m going through some old-fashioned burnout with my leadership position at my church. There are great kids in the youth group, but I’m feeling sucked dry, and lacking conviction that I’m being effectual at all… amongst the kids and the leaders. I was rocking this gig for so long…. Quitting has been suggested by many close to me, as “you can’t be a leader if your heart isn’t in it” (direct quote from a better friend). I don’t know how I feel about that. Burnout can’t be the death sentence for leaders. Not just in the church, but leaders anywhere. It’s an endemic disease in human nature, as far as I can tell. If every leader left their positions because of burnout… I think we’d have to redefine the term “leader”. I dunno. I’m pressing through… walking the tight-rope between faking it and being unflatteringly authentic with the kids and leaders. The right people know what I’m going through, so, we’ll see what happens.
I once upon a time said that I’d never work for a church. I still stand by that statement… even though I’m, uhm, kinda doing it.
There has also been a whole mini-relationship since my last post! Through Jeremy’s ex-girlfriend, I met a guy named Mike. From the very first words we spoke, it was as though angels parted, clouds sang, flowers shone, and the sun bloomed. I wanted to pick out curtains for our future house together. The weirdest part of all-Mike felt the same way… this, initially, freaked me out. Our relationship moved really fast from the get-go, which played out comfortably and naturally, and yet it was incredibly intimidating. Alas, timing is a bitch, and I met him just after he had decided to move to Connecticut to be closer to his family. So, after a month-or-so of us flirting with the idea of an actual full-fledged relationship, Mike decided that it just wouldn’t be right to pursue things further. And our relationship ended just as fast as it started.
While that really sucked, I can’t really chuck this story into my unfortunately large Sob Story Pile. I’m really glad Mike happened to me. Every guy in my past is seen in a different light now. What I look for in men has been redefined. I never saw myself as a girl who needed affirmation from guys to be happy, but now, looking back, I so was That Girl. Since Mike, being single is much easier than it ever has been, because, for the first time in my life, I’m okay with waiting for the next Mike-Or-Better… and I’m excited, because I get to start making NEW mistakes, not repeating OLD mistakes.
I’ve got my first bonified wrinkle. It is right in the middle of my forehead, just between my eyebrows. You can’t really see it unless you’re looking for it in the realm of inches away from my face, but, it is an official indication that I’m actually aging. Wrinkled at 22… gross. A lot of me wishes I was still in high school, especially watching all the kids at the Vineyard. A lot of me wishes I still lived in the dorms, because that was damn fun. A lot of me wishes I still was at Deer Creek church, because the leaders at the youth group seemed to do their jobs effortlessly, and they were all people I wanted to be just like.
But then, I look back, and though being younger would be nice, I wouldn’t want the neuroses that go along with being young, no matter what was offered. Growing up is pretty cool. Getting old is pretty cool. Relationships do get better with age and experience. School is actually fun. It is cool to like nerdy things. There’s something indescribably satisfying about being able to take care of yourself. Faith and relating to a God may not come as easily, but when it does come, it’s more beautiful and convincing than ever. Life, as I’ve got it defined now, continues to be good.
I can ride my bike with no handlebars,
No handlebars,
No handlebars.
I can ride my bike with no handlebars,
No handlebars,
No handlebars.
Look at me!
Look at me!
Hands in the air like it’s good to be alive!
And I’m a famous rapper,
Even when the paths’re all crookedy.
I can show you how to do-si-do,
I can show you how to scratch a record,
I can take apart the remote control,
And I can almost put it back together.
I can tie a knot in a cherry stem,
I can tell you about Leif Erikson,
I know all the words to "De Colores",
And "I'm Proud to be an American",
Me and my friend saw a platypus,
Me and my friend made a comic book,
And guess how long it took?
I can do anything that I want cuz, look:
I can keep rhythm with no metronome
No metronome
No metronome