Why am I hiding?

Get ready, because if you're not expecting me to be really really real right now, you might want to look at my G rated facebook wall. Because it's about to get rill up in here.

I went and got Johnny's Pizza with a friend today (might I add that this is the best crack-riddled pizza that you could ever feast upon), and I got to talking with her about social networking.

I told her how I've been wanting to be more anonymous on the internet. Everything I do is connected to facebook, and everyone I know is ON facebook. That means: my parents, the Chavo, people from Guatemala that know me as somewhat of a missionary (or not), people from my church, past teachers from high school, parents' friends, etc etc. I love all these people a lot. I really do. I would never even consider "unfriending" them because they're really cool.

But let's get real: I can't be totally honest with them. I can't be in a conversation with them and say "You know what just pisses me off?" or say anything that can be even remotely PG-13. The only person that I even feel the slightest bit safe cursing in front of is my mom (oddly enough). My mom and I are super close, and she knows that when I get angry, I'm not just going to pretend that everything is sunshine and rainbows and pretty daisys that smell like chocolate cake.

Chavo doesn't even like it when I get ummm "R-rated mad". I've only gotten R-rated mad while on the phone with him twice... EVER. One time was 2 nights ago when I was so angry that I was literally laying on my bedroom floor, sobbing like an idiot, a cursing the existence of one of my professors (don't ask). And I even finished my "upset" by apologizing and blubbering like an idiot.

But anyways, I was telling my friend, over delicious pizza, that I want to be more anonymous so I can say things that I truly feel. And not even negative things either, just things! Like, how I really want to be able to talk to someone about someone that's gay and not have to say "Yeah, they're gay, but they're really cool." Or talk about my sociology class (Gender and Violence, its crazy awesome) without worrying that they're going to get mad that I just said the word "vagina" out loud and it reached their happy, clean ears. Come on y'all. Its a word for a body part that half of the world has, its not a bad word...

So, here's the deal, I don't want to be more anonymous. I want people to KNOW my true feelings on things. I want people to know that I don't think the world is black and white, that people are good or bad, stupid or smart, but that God made you beautiful exactly how you are. I want people to know that I get crazy offended and angry when people say "I think that if you come to America, you have to speak english," like that girl at the nail salon yesterday. I want people to know, especially in my hometown, that while I consider myself a "moderate conservative", sometimes I have liberal thoughts and that does not make me a devil-worshipping, absinthe-drinking, not-leg-shaving crazy person! I want people to know that "liberal" and "conservative" are not synonyms or antonyms for "right" and "wrong" or "bad" and "good".

I am a person! I am Ginger Spice-Valerie Wade and I am a human being with thoughts and feelings. And even if they are different from yours sometimes, we are both still human beings and we should expect to be treated as such. I will NOT be anonymous. I will be tactful and know that some things should be left unsaid (like telling the girl at the nail salon that I want to choke her), but that does not mean that I am going to be silent and pretend that everything in the world is perfect. If this world were perfect, we wouldn't need Jesus. If this world were perfect, Jesus wouldn't have even come once, much less come again. But Jesus made me, just like he made you, fellow human. Jesus went to the cripples, the whores, the blind, the sick, the needing, the seeking, the children, the thieves, the tax-collectors, people that are just as much God's creations as anyone else.

Stop demonizing people that disagree with you and start treating everybody like they are human beings that are just as much God's creation as you! Just because someone or something doesn't fit inside a nice, neat, little box doesn't mean they aren't worth listening to or loving. Then maybe people wouldn't be scared to speak up and be honest with people. I don't want to live in fear that someone is going to find out who I really am. I don't want people to think I am unloveable because I struggle with food, or doubt, or lust, or anything else that is a real, honest-to-God, problem.

This post got a lot more real than I even planned for it, but I feel better knowing some of the things I said. Because it's the truth, and I don't want to put up some sort of fake, flowery persona of someone that I don't want to be. I am real, raw woman, and I refuse to hide behind sparkly Christmas tinsel and some fake blog because I want this world's love more than God's.

This is real.

Its NOT the same.

Depending on when you met me in the course of my life, I can be one of two things for you:

1) If you met me when I was in high school, I can be the high-stress, sarcastic, crazy b.... witch. I'm still amazed that I had friends in high school. It really is a miracle. But now that I look on high school, many of my friends (certainly not all) were just as high-stress, sarcastic and dramatic as I was... is... am.

2) I can be the happy-go-lucky, scarf knitting, blog writing, Guatemala-going, get-married-really-young, freak.

But I noticed something about myself. I'm sure if you've been on my blog for longer than half a second, you realize that I am a Christian. And yes, I'm from the Bible Belt, but my school pretty secular. My friends consist of those inside my campus ministry, and then friends from the outside that are mostly non-Christian.

Anywhoodles, enough of the background, time for the good stuff. The time where I get on my soapbox and tell you something that takes some of my dirty laundry and airs it out for the whole wide world to see.

I was talking to one of my non-Christian friends (I refuse to say "unbeliever" because that sounds cultish and the first thing I think of when I say it is "shun the nonbeliever!!") about one of my other non-Christian friends. Something I like to call "conversing by proxy" while the bible calls it "gossip". But anyway, I was talking to my friend about this other friend and how mad I was that this person was doing something stupid. My friend's response was "You know, [Ginger Spice]? Sometimes people don't want to feel like they have to live their lives a certain way. This person wants to do what she wants and she doesn't want anyone else to give her flack about it."

Now, this is true. I know it is. Seeing this typed out seems pretty innocuous, but his tone is what got me. He wasn't telling me something I knew. He was telling me something that I didn't know. He acted like he was explaining the ground to someone that didn't believe in gravity.

Just because I believe in Jesus doesn't mean I don't know how this world really is. Just because I believe in Jesus doesn't mean I cannot relate or understand someone who doesn't. Believing in Jesus isn't like believing that gravity exists, or that the world is round.

The world is UGLY. It is one ugly ugly place. People do stupid crap. Because they can! Jesus isn't like gravity! You can't choose against gravity. If you jump off a bridge and turn off the gravity like you can turn off a Christian moral center. I could just as easily go off, find some drugs, sleep around, and end up in jail as someone else. Because I have a choice. I am not a perfect person. No one is perfect. Just because I am a Christian doesn't mean I can't do something stupid. It means I have a means by which to repent and ask for forgiveness. So don't talk to me like I am in an alternate reality just because I don't agree with something that you say.

Gravity keeps me on the ground. The world is round. And Jesus is very very real.

140 Characters of Secrecy

Today, I wanted to write a really long tweet, but then I remember that that's a blog.

But anyway, yeah, I'm on twitter. And I have a confession to make about WHY I like twitter. I know very few people on it.

Twitter, among my group of friends and hometown, isn't largely popular. Facebook, however, is. I have 535 friends on facebook, and 35 twitter followers. I say things on twitter that I would never in a million-billion-gazillion years put on facebook. Why? Because there are several people on my facebook that can't take a joke. I don't talk about twitter a lot because I don't want a bunch of people to have access to the 140 characters of snark that I sometimes post whenever I'm grumpy. And because both this blog and twitter are safe places for me to say what I want, I do.

I would never put "Going to the doctor. What panties do I have that say 'I'm fun and young, but not a slut," on facebook. It talks about panties for goodness sakes! My mom doesn't even like when I say the word "procrasturbation" on here. Sometimes my twitter blows up into segments of 140 characters of snark that facebook is not a safe enough environment to post.

Twitter is my dirty, little, not-so-secret. I can't behave everywhere!

A no-win embarrassment

So you remember how I'm (as a blogger) supposed to be transparent and tell you when I'm imperfect and when embarrassing things happen to me. Yeah, this is one of those times. And no, it has nothing to do with the series I'm trying to do.

This happened this morning.

I had my international law class today with my favorite professor. This guy is hilarious. He's funny, he makes fun of everyone, and you may often wonder if he's allowed to say the things that he does. He's from Cameroon, so he's even worse with international students. I refer to him (by the people who have never had him) as my "Crazy, funny, incredibly politically incorrect professor". I even had Chavo come with me to one of his classes so he would know what one of this guy's classes is like.

I take notes for this professor. As in, he takes the notes from my class, writes down what I may have missed, and uses it for his next class so that he knows the same things were said in both classes.

And so, after class today, I went to hand him my notebook and told him that I'll be missing class on Friday. He asked me if I was going to the football game, and I said no, that I have a doctor's appointment on Friday morning (Friday was the only time I could get in, and I have to go home to do it, so yeah).

What was his response? "Oh, your Guatemalan fiance knock you up?"

After shrieking "NOOOOOO!" he laughed his head off. "It could happen!" he said.

How do I respond to that? There is not a single way I could respond that would be a good rebuttal to that. Because no matter what my response is, I am talking about my sex life. I did not realize this until I said "No, it couldn't!" Yeeeeah. Ginger Spice just outed herself as a vv---vv--vvvirgin, to her professor, in front of several students (who I can only hope to dear sweet Jesus that they weren't conscious of what was going on).

Professor? He kept laughing. I promise, he's a good guy. He just gets good laughs out of shocking people. (He once asked a classmate from Nicaragua if he was tired from working at Taco Bell. ) So I am not his first victim. He's still my favorite professor, even though he just embarrassed the living daylights out of me.

So yeah, that just happened. And when something embarrassing happens, instead of pretending it never happened, I posted it on here... like a crazy person. A crazy person that mentioned her lack of a sex life to her professor out of embarrassment and is now blasting it on her blog.


Wow. I really need to see a doctor. I think I might be crazy.

I promise...

I haven't forgotten. I'm still here. I'm still working on the next big post. I want it to be a good one.


Just be patient.

But when would I have the time to have that mental breakdown?

Well, I got about halfway through this blog post before it deleted itself, so I'm having a hard time starting this back up again. That, and I'm a little nervous. I regretted saying that I would post “tomorrow” yesterday. But I did.

There is a new chapter in my life coming up, and with that, I have a huge question:

What does it mean to be a Christian wife?

I felt like the best way to START answering this question would be to look through the Proverbs 31 passage about the wife of noble character (I'll just call her Noble Wife). This is one of the very very few passages that I've read through about 100 times. Most of which, as I read, I felt like this chick.

I always imagine Noble Wife as a sewing, knitting, bake-selling, homeschooling, blue jean skirt-wearing, tea-drinking, crock pot cooking, homemaking, perfect mom. But really, really... REALLY. There's no way I could do even half of those things. My mom has to show me with strict detail how the crock pot works, every time she asks me to use it!!! And I'm pretty sure the last time I wore a blue jean skirt was in the 5^th grade. Anyways...

But for those that haven't ever read that wonderful bit of intimidation, we're going to walk through it, and I'm going to point out some things that I think are 1) awesome, 2) terrifying, or 3) impossible. You'd be surprised. Even Noble Wife isn't perfect! Just wait and see!

10A wife of noble character who can find?
She is worth far more than rubies.
11 Her husband has full confidence in her
and lacks nothing of value.
12 She brings him good, not harm,
all the days of her life.
13 She selects wool and flax
and works with eager hands.

She works with eager hands! With that said, I have a confession to make. When Chavo asked my parents about marrying me, they warned him that I must always have something to do, or I get all depressed and crazy. According to my mom, I don't even have to like what I'm doing, but I have to have something to do. And I must have something to procrastinate. I know, I'm a freak.

14 She is like the merchant ships,
bringing her food from afar.
15 She gets up while it is still night;
she provides food for her family
and portions for her female servants.

Ok, there are a couple of things I want to point out about this. Noble Wife gets up EARLY. Like, really early. I get up moderately early, but not “before the sun” early. That's just crazy talk for me.

Oh! And another thing. Noble Wife has female servants! Even she can't get everything done! I would like to change “female servants” to “babysitters” or “schoolteachers”, not because I think they're servants to cater to the wife's needs, but because Noble Wife's kids are mentioned very rarely in this passage. Do you know what this means?! Noble Wife doesn't homeschool!

BUT I AM NOT BASHING HOMESCHOOLING WITH THAT STATEMENT! I could never homeschool. Never ever ever. Nope. Couldn't do it. But now I feel better knowing that not even Noble Wife homeschooled. And I have a rebuttal for those ladies that are all “If you really love your kids and Jesus, you would homeschool.” Nope. Not for me. And I may counter them by sending my future child around in a shirt like this

16 She considers a field and buys it;
out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.
17 She sets about her work vigorously;
her arms are strong for her tasks.

Noble Wife can does cool stuff with her money. You know, vineyards are cool. And she has earnings, so she works. And Noble Wife must work out if her arms are strong for all the crap she has to do (ahem... errands she must run). So, she exercises. Go her!

18 She sees that her trading is profitable,
and her lamp does not go out at night.
19 In her hand she holds the distaff
and grasps the spindle with her fingers.

Nighttime is my most productive time. That's when the “last minute” starts.

20 She opens her arms to the poor
and extends her hands to the needy.

Missions. Everywhere.

21 When it snows, she has no fear for her household;
for all of them are clothed in scarlet.
22 She makes coverings for her bed;
she is clothed in fine linen and purple.

Wanna know how I read this? She crafts! She DIY's!

23 Her husband is respected at the city gate,
where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.
24 She makes linen garments and sells them,
and supplies the merchants with sashes.

Maybe she even “etsy's” (www.etsy.com). Either way, she sells her crafts! I'm a big fan of that.

25 She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
26 She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

Something hard that is expected, but we all need to learn to do.

27 She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.

She makes sure her kids get their homework done and that everyone is doing what they're supposed to! And I'm assuming she doesn't pass out on the couch and watch a marathon of Keeping Up With the Kardashians. Whatever, I'm still going to watch Law and Order: SVU whenever I am doing all of these crafts, selling them on etsy and making all these clothes.

28 Her children arise and call her blessed;

I was wondering where her kids were. I wonder if they ever paint on the walls or steal cookies.

her husband also, and he praises her:
29 “Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all.”
30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
31 Honor her for all that her hands have done,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

Wanna know what I didn't see anywhere in that passage? Noble Wife doesn't always have a clean house. Now, she does watch over the affairs of her house, but does that mean “clean”. I would think that if keeping an organized and tidy home were expected, then it would have been written in there. And Noble Wife has female servants, who I'm sure take care of the kids so that Noble Wife doesn't go bananas with carting kids around while she buys fields and such.

But notice how this passage is not called “The Perfect Wife”, its called the Wife of Noble Character. That's because Perfect Wife doesn't exist. She doesn't. And think about the chaos that would ensue if she did. I would imagine that antidepressant sales would go up because who could live up to that? Noble Wife is possible to live up to. I like Noble Wife. She sounds like someone I could grab a coffee with (when she's not so busy). Or someone that would blog. Not someone who would judge or be ugly.

I think I can work on becoming Noble Wife. Perfect wife, however, can go clean my house. Maybe I'll hire her as a female servant!


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I hope you enjoyed the very first post of what I hope to be a very good series. If there was something that you disagree with, or something you would really like Chavo or I to talk about on here, let us know! This is a blogging community effort, so don't be shy.

Dun dun DUN!!

Well everyone, I have been harping on a major thing that I want to do here. It will be interesting. It will be thought-provoking. It may even be a touch offensive for some! With this new chapter in my life coming up, I want to play this game well. But I can't play if I don't know the rules.

I'm talking about what it means biblically to be a wife.

Because I think the Bible got it right, and the church is screwing it up. We lost it. We missed the boat. We argue between whether we should be a Proverbs 31 wife or an Ephesians 5 one. What does it mean to "submit to one's husband"? Is a crock pot a necessary item according to Sarah or Hannah or Ruth?

In the next few weeks, I want to tear up society's view of a Christian wife and build one directly out of the Bible.

But, I also don't want this to be an "I am woman, hear me roar! And watch me not shave my legs," series. So, bring in the man's side of the equation...

Its Chavo! Look at all his manliness!

Chavo and I are going to spear-head this topic together. But its not just the two of us either. I've got a team of married and unmarried ladies that are helping out. So get ready, because this is going to get CAH-razy!

First post starts tomorrow! Are you excited? You should be.

A Happy Farewell

Yesterday, I got to spend some more time with the awesome Bekka (www.onerighteousbabe.blogspot.com). We had some good talk and it really got me thinking. We talked about difficult blog posts, briefly. And believe me, there's a thought-provoking, kinda offensive, whirlwind one coming up in days to come. But this is not the one.

Today, I am bidding farewell. Not to this blog, or you, or school, or whatever.

Before mine and Chavo's semi-serious relationship took a hard turn into serious, there was something that I really wanted to do. Something that not many people liked: like my parents, or grandparents, or generally people who cared for my safety.

I wanted to go on the World Race (www.theworldrace.org). I wanted to do missions all over the planet for 11 months, plus training and debrief, so a year. I wanted to go so bad that my stomach would hurt. Admittedly, some of my reasons weren't the best (I mean, its really freaking cool, you'd think the same thing, so sue me). But I wanted to do missions all over the world, and this seemed like the best way to do it.

And as I write this post in my journal in the middle of service (oh, get over it, I'm paying attention), my heart kind of aches...

I am bidding farewell to the World Race. I am laying down my plan because of the one thing that could and would stop me:

God's plan is different... and better.

I am closing that door because to keep it open would be to ignore God telling me that "This isn't it. I have a better idea. Trust me".

I am not saying goodbye to missions. I will do missions, be it Malaysia, Mexico, or Monroe, Louisiana, but I will do missions. As Chavo and I met because of missions, together, we see it being a very important part of our lives.

So, Chavo and I will be continuing with missions as a married couple, but that means I must give up the World Race now. Therefore, I say farewell and look on to a happy horizon.

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Soon to come is going to be huge. Its going to make you think, and it may even offend a few people. So get ready!

Being "That Girl"

Today is the start of Midterm Week. That's right, folks: we can no longer make the excuse that we don't have time to do anything because its the beginning of the semester. We are at the official middle of the semester, suckas!

The good news for me is that I only have two midterms this week, so I'm driving to Houston to pick up the Chavo. I'm pretty excited about it.

But anyway, I am sitting in the middle of the quad on this warm with a cool breeze kind of day, thinking about that fun little April post about the terrible terrible thing that happened. If you haven't read it, its kind of the highlight of my blog, and it will greatly entertain you when my other posts do not.

For a while after the terrible thing happened, I was known as “that girl”. You know. “That girl that blogs when embarrassing things happen to her” or “That girl that showed her butt to the whole quad” or “that redheaded girl that belched herself into oblivion after pulling her dress back down” or “that girl that cried in class because her professor yelled at her”. Yeah. And one thing I've noticed about when I get upset and start crying hysterically is that I say I really don't want to be “that girl”. I never want to be “that girl”.

I just realized this, but I am that girl. I make my own definition of that girl, and I am her.

I am that girl:

...who cries in public when people embarrass her.

… who talks incessantly about Guatemala.

… who wears a dress to the drugstore because its laundry day and she refuses to go to CVS in her pajamas.

… who will eat popcorn and dry cereal for dinner so she doesn't have to go to the grocery store for a few more days.

… who blogs for no other reason but to blog.

… who gets her inspiration for anything by watching a movie about it. Don't mess with me after I watch the Karate Kid.

… who prays that God lets Chavo know what a jerk he's being, when I'm the one that's being a jerk.

… who calls her mama when she makes a bad grade.

… who holds her nose prematurely when she got baptized.

… who doesn't like songs where the singer says her name, because it makes me feel weird. (I am not Nicki Minaj, and my name is not Carrie, so I'm not very fly oh-my, its a little bit scary.)

… who bakes on big exam weeks so she has something to procrastinate with. Brownies instead of international law. Cookies instead of American foreign policy. Cupcakes instead of politics of poverty.

… who gives really lame excuses when she doesn't do something.

… who got engaged really really young.

… who will argue you into the ground on immigration policies.

… who calls her mom when she feels the slightest bit sick.

… who still calls her father “daddy”.

… who calls God “daddy” sometimes in prayer when I'm feeling really informal.

… whose main grocery trip is based on lunchables and pop tarts.

… who was always the perky drive-thru girl at starbucks, even at 6 am.

The list goes on and on. I am “that girl”. Its horribly embarrassing sometimes, but it is who I am. And while I may not be the most likeable girl on this planet, I can think of a few people that at least can tolerate it. Its working for me, being who I am. I hope that being you is working for you. I'm sure it is.

Are you “that boy” or “that girl”? What makes you it?

Its a beautiful day in the apartment complex.

Today is Saturday. A beautiful, wonderful, sunny, but not too hot, Saturday.

And where am I? On my couch. I'm not in my jammies though! I actually got dressed and went to Hobby Lobby briefly.

But you know what? I'm so pumped to be on my couch right now. This week has been long and hard (shut up). And next week is going to be crazy. Its midterm week, and I get to spend half the week with the Chavo. I haven't seen him since Labor Day, so I'm so pumped about that! But I had so much to do this week that whenever I talk about it, I can't use punctuation or spaces. Its just "ihadsomuchtodothatijustworkedandworkedandworkedandwenttoclassanddidnthaveenoughmoneytogotothegrocerystoresoihadtoaskmyparentsformoneytobuyahairbrushbecauseileftmineattheirhouseandigotrainedonanditwassosadandtheniworkedsomemoreandididn'tsleepmuchandwhenididsleepihadnightmaresaboutpeoplejumpingoffbalconysandchavosayinghedidntwanttomarrymeandeveryonegotfoodpoisoningfromthefoodatmyweddingreceptionanditwasawfulawfulawful..."
Yeah.
That's a lot. And that's only until Wednesday.

So I am on my couch, blogging. And probably writing a really terrible blog. But its a beautiful day, and I am admiring it from my living room window. And I am going to enjoy today! Because I can't go anywhere. The good thing about early kickoffs is that everyone is drinking early, so its not safe to drive. Do you know what this means?! I don't have to go anywhere!!! I'm going to sit on my couch and watch Shawshank Redemption.

I literally can't think of anything else to say. So if anyone else wants to do nothing at all, hit me up on twitter @ValeritaVarita, or on facebook, or who knows? You could totally comment here!

I'm probably going to delete this blog post later. Because its making me laugh at how ridiculous it is. So enjoy this little gem while it lasts. I just had to put something out there about how beautiful today was, how I'm enjoying being inside, and just how excited I am that I don't have to go anywhere.

Enjoy the day. I sure will.

Oh, and send me a comment. I just love those. ;)

Baptism Bloopers and why they're my favorite

This Sunday (which was totally legit and I hope they put it online), we had baptisms. It was a big Sunday, it was big missions dealio (and I got to speak twice, but I'm so getting off-track). But big Sundays are always big baptism Sundays. They baptized 4 people up there! 3 had the same last name! It was pretty cool. But one thing I noticed was that we had one of my favorite baptism bloopers.

You know, 1^st kid goes up there, sploosh, applause.

2^nd kid goes up there, sploosh, doesn't even hold his nose! Bonus points! Applause.

3^rd kid (2^nd kid's twin, who was not to be outdone), didn't hold his nose either, Applause.

4^th guy, an ADULT! He got to watch the last 3 baptisms and rehearse his lines and his choreography. But what happened? Pastor starts his cool “Upon your confession of faith...” line, and the adult already starts holding his nose! It was my favorite! It reminded me of my favorite kinds of baptism bloopers.

The Premature Nose-hold:

As with what happened this Sunday, you're in the middle of a baptism and the guy holds his nose way before he's about to get the symbolic dunk of faith. What do you do with that? Do you just hammer the awkwardness home and keep your hand at your nose? Do you take your hand down and give a sheepish look? Or do you slyly look like you were scratching your nose and TOTALLY didn't mean to do that? This has got to be my favorite baptism blooper just from the lack of ability to escape. You know, it makes a good story! Just like the time that you were trying to get to your parents' Sunday school class as a child and accidently walked into the choir loft in the middle of service.

Announcing the wrong name:

This also happened this Sunday. As I stated before, we had a set of twins getting baptized. And sure enough, the first kid got the wrong name called out. Just like Jacob and Esau, that wretched little brother got his baptism cred! (Except not really, the pastor did correct himself before the kid was dipped.) I think that this is blooper payback for those pastors who secretly giggle at the premature nose-holders.

Baptizing a tall person:

Jon Acuff talks about this on his super-cool blog “Stuff Christians Like”, but baptizing a tall person is hard! I have not tried to baptize a tall person, but trying to dunk my cousin (who is roughly like, 10 feet tall, maybe) in a swimming pool is pretty much impossible.

Not getting all the baptisee's body under water:

Mom and I discussed this yesterday. You know, baptism is a symbol and all that cool stuff, but what happens if you end up with a dry elbow after getting baptized? You may think I'm borderline insane, but don't tell me you haven't thought about it!

And my personal favorite. The super-rare, independent baptism!

I've only witnessed this once, at church camp about 6 years ago. One of my friends was getting baptized in that awesome youth-group baptism trough. If you've been to rockin' church camp like these crazy kids have these days, you know that when it comes to baptism time, it ain't your grandmother's baptism! The music is blaring, kids are screaming, confessions of faith are shouted to the rooftops of that college auditorium, its totally legit. If you want a cool baptism (and can't get to your nearest river), youth group baptism is definitely the way to go. But the energy was high, and my friend just couldn't take the pressure. So after she gives that “Yes, sir” when asked if Jesus is her personal Lord and Savior, she falls out into the trough, FULLY expecting the youth minister to be right with her on her new solo baptism. Luckily, the pastor caught her before she hit her head, but she did have to wait to dunk the rest of her.

Baptism bloopers are the greatest parts of baptism. They remind everyone that while we are announcing to the world that Jesus is our Savior, we are still the awkward people that we always were. Our lives are changing forever, dying to self, being buried with Christ, and raising to new life with Jesus, but we are not suddenly the perfect people that know all the right things to say or the right time to hold their nose for a baptism. We are God's sometime socially-awkward children, and He wouldn't have us any other way.

Oh, and they're really really funny! Name some more baptism bloopers that you've witnessed!

New friends and awesome things for the future!

2 blogs in a week?! I'm on fire! But I just couldn't miss blogging for the awesome thing that happened today.

Today, I met blogger One Righteous Babe (Bekka) for lunch! It was so fun, but asking her to go to lunch was very much like asking someone out on a date. I was all nervous, thinking "What if she says she doesn't want to eat lunch with me? What if she hates me? What if she thinks I'm desperate or worse, creepy!? What if I have bad breath? What am I going to wear?" The list goes on and on and on.

But you know what? It couldn't have gone any better. She is such a cool person, aned you should totally read her blog (www.onerighteousbabe.blogspot.com). She has such a heart for God, and I see big big plans for her. I can see us bringing the world to its knees. She's totally legit, and I was so pumped to get to have a 3 hour lunch with her. God was all over that table, it was ridiculous.

It was so good to meet you, Bekka! I hope that you, me, Jesse, and Chavo can do awesome plans for God together!

Oh, and I ordered a hamburger that was almost as big as my head. And I haven't embarrassed myself in this post yet, so that's got to change.

It was delicious too! I ate less than half, but I have a feeling I'll be eating it for dinner.

Later, everyone!



Let's not scare the children.

I'm sure you all deserve an explanation for why I have been gone for almost a month. And that's just what I'm going to give you.
And I'll tell you, its not a good one.

Well, I could play the "I've been planning a wedding and school just started and I've been working and I've been running and I've been doing homework and I've been participating in REAL social activities blah blah blah"... But see, that's just not true. Well, it is true, but its not why I haven't been blogging.

Ya see, the deal is: I ran out of ideas.
That's right, world! For the first time, Ginger Spice ran out of things to say! Except not really, my talking words-per-minute has increased exponentially, but I ran out of things funny enough to not be ashamed to put on this blog. Because let's face it, its hard to come back from showing the entire quad my butt, last spring (yeah, if you haven't read that post, its a lulu).

So what have I been doing all this time? I've been on Pinterest. And the reason that I'm not on pinterest right now is because a bunch of people I've been following made a bunch of stupid boards that they decide to pin to nonstop, like ferrets and bananas. While I have a board dedicated to mustaches, I'm not feeling the whole "ferret 'splosion" that has occurred here. So here I am, embarrassed and ashamed to have ignored you for so long.

But that's what works for you, isn't it? You're all very busy people that don't put things off to watch Law & Order: SVU for 4 hours straight (Yeah, me neither... Ok, guilty) or spend way too much time on Pinterest to make yourself feel creative when you should have been doing your Geography of Latin America homework. You don't have time to read my blog once a week. Its too long and I'm too strung out and frustratingly incoherent to waste your time with for anything less than once every 2 weeks. FINE! Ya jerks.

I'm going to attempt (spoiler: its probably not going to work) to blog once a week. Who knows? (Everyone) Maybe it'll be more than once a week! (It won't). Stop smothering me! I can't handle it. I need an adult. I'm incoherent again, I had a caramel macchiato about an hour ago.

Oh, I'm totally kidding about y'all leaving. I get a huge boost of happiness when I hear people say they enjoy my blog. I feel loved and given attention. And who doesn't love attention? So if you leave me, I'm going to start wearing leggings as pants for attention, and NO ONE wants that!!!

So quick! Tell your friends before I buy a pair of leggings to wear with a t-shirt!

Let's unstress, let's decompress.

Today, I did something I've never done before...

Dun dun DUUUUN! I got acrylic nails. So let this be my disclaimer, I am always a huge fan of correct spelling, but my nails are now twice the length they used to be... virtually in half an hour, so if you find some spelling mistakes and feel the urge to tell me, just know that I will laugh in your face and never speak to you again....

Not really, but I just don't care. ;) But with that said:

I don't know about you guys, but this week has been stress to the max. With work, school, homework, more work, getting caught up with new friends, and taking one giant leap out of my comfort zone (more on that later), I'm exhausted!

On Wednesday, I did another thing that I've never done before. I translated... for money. Yeah, that's right, someone paid me to speak in spanish. And I about had a panic attack over it Tuesday night. Luckily, Chavo helped me cash that spanish-speaking check that my english-speaking butt couldn't. But it went fine. And I made cash and did some retail therapy. And they even said they would call me back! I hope it wasn't a "you were terrible and we're never going to speak to you again, I'm deleting your number as we speak" and an actual "we'll call you back because we need a translator and you speak more spanish than we do".

But that's not what I want this blog to be about. I want this to be a chance to say what hyou need to. Maybe that's to vent, maybe its a chance to brag on yourself (without sounding like a total D-Bag), maybe its a chance to take a deep breath and not say anything. But after this, you know what's going to happen, you're going to go back out there, refreshed and ready to say "Hey Life? Bring it!" Then you're going to take your happy-butt and go translate for those Salvadorians again.... Wait... That was just me. What were we talking about again?

Oh yeah, pep talk. But I'm no good at those. SO, I recommend everyone with 5 well-needed minutes to chill to listen to this right here: http://youtu.be/sTJ7AzBIJoI No, I don't care if you've heard it before, listen to it again, and listen good. Its important. I'm going to listen to it too.

Take a chill pill. September is here. Spending time stressing over it is not enjoying the precious time that God gives you on this Earth.

Let me know what's going on. I miss hearing from everyone. How was your day? And how did you like the video?

-Ginger Spice

How the spanish language destroys all my jokes

So, if you missed the last post, or you have been living in a social-network- free zone, you don't know that Chavo and I are engaged.

But yeah, we are. So this is a disclaimer to my post that yes, I do love him. His ability to destroy most of my jokes does not take away from the fact that I do love him.

Anyways:

Something that one does not always think about when considering spending time with someone whose first language is not your own is the complete inability to tell jokes right. Why? Because sometimes jokes are puns. Puns don't translate. Ever. Like knock knock jokes.

Knock knock.
Who's there?
Police.
Police who?
Police open the door, its cold out here!!!

Yeah, that will not translate. Here's how you would tell a knock knock joke to someone who knows english, but its not their first language.

Knock knock
Uhhh... Who's there?
Cash.
Cash who?
No, thanks, but I would like some peanuts... You know. Because cashews.. Haha! Its a nut! But he doesn't want cashews, he wants peanuts!
But I didn't say cashew. I said "Cash who?"
But its a pun! Its funny, right?
Oh, yeah, hilarious... Ha. Ha. Ha.
Shut up.

Its just not fair! Its not his fault that the jokes aren't funny when translated! Jokes aren't funny anymore when you have to explain why its funny. Sometimes people are kind enough to laugh. But its not funny. We both know it. We will just keep up the niceties so that he doesn't feel bad for not laughing at my jokes, and so I don't feel bad because I just told a joke that's not even funny in english, much less in spanish.

I don't get jokes in spanish either. And we get to play the whole charade as well. It takes a very special kind of joke to translate.

Yes, this is a fairly short blog. So I'll leave you with a joke that does translate:

Gary and Pat were having some problems at home and were giving each other the "silent treatment." But then Gary realized that he would need his redhead to wake him at 5:00 am for an early morning drive with some pals to a golf match.

Not wanting to be the first to break the silence (and so lose the "war"), he wrote on a piece of paper, "Please wake me at 5:00 am." The next morning, Gary woke up, only to discover it was 9:00 am and that his friends would have left for the golf course without him.

Furious, he was about to go and see why his wife hadn't awakened him when he noticed a piece of paper by the bed. The paper said, "It is 5:00 am.

Wake up."

Comprometidos!

That's right, everyone. I'm engaged!

Chavo and I are pretty stoked about it. Well, duh. Its been a really awesome week.

We got back into the United States on a Friday. And sure enough, I survived 7 weeks and 2 days in Guatemala, but less than 24 hours of being in the United States, I ended up in the emergency room. I'm fine, and it was a really dumb thing. Chavo and I were hanging out with my bestie at the lake, swimming and tubing and such. We were getting out of the lake, onto the dock, and I fell on the boat motor and cut my leg. It wasn't a big cut, but I fell in the lake, so we were afraid my leg was going to turn green and fall off. And that's not fun.

So I got a nice ride to the hospital. I got 3 staples in my leg, and Chavo didn't even pass out! I was so proud. He stayed in the room the whole time, even when I said a few not-so-nice words about the... lovely... wonderful... ER guy.

Anywhoodles, on Sunday, I was not going to let that cut defeat me. So I played in the orchestra the next morning. I hadn't showered, and I probably shouldn't have done it. But oh well, if you could see my face, you would see just how little I care about that right now. Hah!

Monday morning, after having showered and feeling a lot better, Chavo and I went to the park. I don't know who all is reading from Louisiana, but it is HOT! So we went early in the morning, before it hit 90 degrees. We walked around for just a little while before I wanted to go play on the playground. There weren't any kids around to get in my way of good playground fun, so I was climbing all over it!

We stopped playing on the slide long enough to admire the beautiful day, and Chavo got down on one knee. I know he asked if I wanted to be Mrs. Cherry Garcia (a nickname that one of my very good friends gave me) and I said absolutely. He said a bunch of other things that neither of us really remember, and he put the ring on my finger. And he did good! The ring is beautiful!!!

After we left the park, we told the whole family and a few friends. The next day, we booked the church and changed our facebook status (Hahaha!) and Wednesday, Mom and I bought the dress! And Thursday.. who are you kidding, we slept!!! All day long. It was glorious.

Its been an amazing last 10 days and a truely unforgettable summer. Looking forward to what the next 10 months have to offer as well. June 16, 2012! Let's rock this chiquita banana!

Good night, Guatemala.

I've been gone for just over a month. But what can I say, I've been busy! You know, teaching kids and such.

And because I've been gone over a month, let me give you as brief of an update as I can about how the last month has gone. Hold on to your chairs, this may be a little incoherent:

Well, we taught the kids some more, and now we've on our third dance. They're awesome, but we've had a few temper tantrums out of them. Out of us, too. Chavo came to class and played his trumpet, and they loved him way more than they love us. We went to church a bunch of times, we even sang in front of the church! We went to San Marcos La Laguna in Lake Atitlan, which was legit. Then we went to Irtra de Retalhuleu (a super-awesome amusement park) for my birthday weekend. We went to class some more, and the kids made me birthday cards as a surprise. We got stranded in the middle of Guatemala for 3 hours, and we were scared. Katie slept in the back of a pickup truck. Chavo and I hung out with his family. We went to Antigua and stayed in the most legit house ever. We had a photo-shoot. We all got sick several times. We played for the church. We ate lots of Pollo Campero over the course of 6 weeks, and here we are!

Whew!

Ok, now to what I really wanted to talk about. Its going to get kind of depressing (and maybe a little scary for Katie's parents as well as mine) for about a second (so Mama, and Mrs. Dee C, who I would like to give a personal shout out because that sweet woman got MARRIED on the beaches of Hawaii not very long ago, might need to take a valium before you read any further into this blog).

Laws... don't work in Guatemala. I don't know if they've never worked, or if this is just a "in the last few decades" thing, but they don't work. Making a law against something in Guatemala is really just inviting people to PERSONALLY try it.

Cops as authority figures... are pretty much a joke. You know how when you're flooring it down the interstate and you see anything that even remotely looks like a cop car, and you immediately start going 10 miles under the speed limit? Yeah, that doesn't happen. There's a lot more that I could say, but I will not.

Politicians... are walking criminals. I'm not even kidding. The system works for politicians, not the other way around. Now, I'm sure you're thinking that ALL politicians are criminals. Not so. This is on a whole other level.

It strikes fear in my heart to type these words. You really don't know. Part of me even wants to save this post until I'm safely back in the States, where laws are at least a deterrent, and my daddy is close enough to kick some tail. But in 5 days, I will be back in the States, and I am done with the fear. Done with sugar-coating this place just enough to where the people that care about us are terrified, while still maintaining that this place needs Jesus yesterday.

Today, tonight, right now, I beg of each and every one of you. Pray for Guatemala. Pray for a Good Night to Guatemala, so that there may be a good morning. A new dawn. Guatemala needs the light of Jesus. And it needs to start with the worst of these. This movement cannot just start with the politicans and the authorities, because the people do not trust them. This movement must work from the ground, up. Pray to bring a Good Morning to Guatemala. Pray that Guatemala bids farewell to fear and adieu to violence. Pray that the good hearts of the people that we have met already spread to the rest of the country.

The people that we know deserve to live in a place where they can walk outside without fear. So do the people that we don't know. Pray that the next politician voted into office does actual good. We are happy that leadership is changing hands, but we would be even happier if it changed for the better. This is a critical time in this election. This election has the capacity to do some serious good, if Guatemala will let it.

Give Guatemala a chance. Give these children a chance. Inspire yourselves to change this country. Pray for Guatemala.

Here I am!

Still alive in Guatemala. My neck hurts for some odd reason, so I'm trying to find a comfortable position to sit in. So far, the only one I've come up with is resting my chin on the kitchen table with my arms out at the keyboard. Pitiful.

We have a week off this week from classes, because the munchkins are on vacation. So what are we doing in our spare time? As of now, nothing, but tomorrow we're going to start painting!!! Yaaay! Real physical activity! I thought it existed only in myth!

So lately, I have been a pretty grumpy character. Actually, not even a grumpy character, just a very overly-sensitive character. I can manage to keep on a pretty happy face when I'm around other people, but once I reach the privacy of mine and Katie's room, or the 3rd floor balcony, I come unglued.

"Why did this person say that? What did they mean by that? Why does this guy always pick on me? Why don't our plans always work out? Is this person mad at me? What did that person not answer my message?" The list goes on and on and on and on.. Strangers waiting up and down the Boulevard- just kidding.

Maybe I'm impatient. Maybe I'm easily angered. Maybe I take things a little too personally. Or maybe I take things a LOT too personally. But lately, I find myself asking God to "Please let that person see what a jerk they were to me." Yes, I know, I've actually said the word "jerk" to God.

And I really didn't know where I was even going with this blog. I was hoping it would just come out with a moral like it normally does. I was just typing because I haven't blogged in a while. I've vlogged a lot, which you should totally go see our videos because they're awesome. But no blogs. I don't know why. Maybe its because excitement is easier to express in a video than in text.

But some really cool things have happened. It hasn't been all bad. Last night, Katie and I got a chance to hang out with 2 awesome ladies at an Italian restaurant. And today, we're going to the mall. And we have a really awesome job, which is probably why we're not so good with having a break from it. And we have the best view this side of anywhere. And even if the power goes out, we can still cook, because we have a gas stove and matches. And the temperature is amazing. Even now, its only 75 degrees, whereas its 94 in Monroe.

So God is good. And I am not. God provides all, and I am not grateful enough. I am a poo-head. God has put us in a beautiful place with beautiful people and allowed us to help with His beautiful work. And all I can do is complain about my aching neck and being a little bored.

So what can I say? Business is great, people are terrific, life is wonderful.

A Lesson in the Silent Treatment

Well, in my now 3rd update from Guatemala, I'd like to talk about something that can be wonderful, helpful, or very very harmful: silence.

Silence in Guatemala is hard to come by. With roosters crowing, cars honking, children playing and screaming "Lero lero!", as well as the adorable little puppy named Roco that won't SHUT UP, silence can be a golden commodity. Now, as the pickiest sleeper ever, silence is very important to me.

Seriously, I must have complete darkness. And if I can't have complete darkness, I will pull the blankets over my head, but I don't like breathing my own carbon dioxide over and over, so I pull the blankets over my eyes, and leave a place for my nose and mouth. And I must have complete silence. So I use earplugs. Squishy pink earplugs. Yes, I sleep like a weirdo. So what?

Another cool thing about silence is you really get to learn a lot about people. Have you ever just shut up and let the other person talk? That is very rare for me. Its helpful to only understand spanish and be limited in speaking it. Learning people's stories has been very refreshing, rather than me jabbering on about how I haven't eaten in 5 hours and kind of want a cookie.

Now, the thing that will really get you in a bad way with silence is... the silent treatment. I am no stranger to the silent treatment. Having once been a middle-school pre-teen, I have a 3rd degree black belt in silent treatment. But there is something about the silent treatment that I really need to get rid of (besides all of it)...

I give God the silent treatment when I feel I've been treated unfairly. I guess I feel like God purposefully let something bad happen because he doesn't like me, so instead of taking him head-on (like silly boys do), I take the middle-school girl route, I pretend like it didn't phase me and stop talking to him. Yet, when things get good again, God and I are best pals. I am so often a middle-school Christian, fairweather and finicky. Ugggggh, conviction. The bitter taste of conviction. Should probably cut that out now.

Need to go brush my teeth now.

But yeah, lets be silent, in a good way. Hey, Ginger Spice, shut your pie hole and listen to other people, and don't leave God hanging!

Some pictures!

Hello again! I know that posting 2 days in a row is virtually unheard of from me, but I just wanted to share some pictures for those that aren't following me on facebook.

This is a picture of our already-messy room.

This is what we get to look at while we eat. Not bad, huh?

This is Katie with Heber, El Hombre en La Mesa. He's our security guard, who makes sure that the people outside knows there is a man here that will whip their tails if they try to come in uninvited.

This is our amazing view from the 3rd floor. Have I mentioned that Guatemala is beautiful?

Saludos desde Guatemala!

Hello everyone!

Greetings from Guatemala, the Land of Eternal Spring! Its very nice to leave 102 degree weather and have the pilot say that the temperature is now 78 degrees. B-e-a-utiful.

Its good to be back. Very good to be back. This time, I have my dear friend Katie coming with me. Its her first time out of the country, so its very refreshing to see her reactions to things that seem so new to her. I'm trying to determine what it is like to be here for the fourth time. The only thing I can come up with is that it seems like I've been here forever. Then again, after we got here to Christian Horizons (the group home, and where we're staying), I slept for 12 hours.

But being here in Guatemala is just like it has always been. Nothing has changed, except the Chavo is not here, which is sad. This is the first time I've been here without the Chavo, so my translator/driver/planner/confidante is missing. But now I get to play translator to Katie, who I'm sure is very worried at how this summer is going to turn out at this point. But it will all be fine.

As my dad asked last night, "How's it like to be back home?" My only response can be, "Its like I never left".

Guatemala is Guatemala.

My chapines friends are still awesome.

Spanish is still confusing, but a little better.

The Rojas are still awesome.

And God is still very, very good.

Summer Traditions and... Jimmy Buffett?

In Louisiana, there are four seasons. Summer, Bad Summer, Still Summer, and Christmas. Ask anyone here. Its stays summer for a very long time here. But one of the best things that comes from having summer basically year-round are Summer Traditions. We get so excited here at the Ginger Spice residence that we start talking about our summer traditions in February!

But we all have our most favorite of traditions. Buffett night. Not buffet night, Buffett Night. So good, its got to be capitalized. That's right, everyone. Its THAT fun. On Buffett Nights, which we try to do on every chance we get, we cook out on the grill, eat outside on the deck, and listen to Jimmy Buffett. A Jimmy Buffett CD that we've had for "God only knows how long."

We all have our favorite songs. But it always starts out with "He Went to Paris." That song always starts a Buffett Night. We even have little things that we do during the songs, like games, or specific lines that we have to mouth dramatically to each other. We do odd fin motions in the song "Fins". Sometimes Mom and Dad dance to "Grapefruit, Juicy Fruit" whenever Jimmy says "Ladies choice, everybody dance!" Sometimes Dad and I sing the background lyrics to "A Pirate Looks at Forty" that are somewhat terrible and hilarious.

Mom's going to kill me for even mentioning this song, but we ALWAYS skip over the song "Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw?" I didn't even know that song was on the CD until this year, because we always skipped over it. Now, we listen to the first 30 seconds, just long enough for Dad to sing this super-line "Barmaid, bring a PITCHER!" where he just kind of hops up and makes this silly face. He has to do that line now. Its too funny to skip.

And one of our favorite games happens when the song "Son of a Son of a Sailor" comes on. Its not necessarily a happy song. I don't even know the words (despite the fact that I've heard this song more times than I could even fathom in a single thought), but we all know a few certain moments in the song where you can hear a ship's bell ring. It happens at the very beginning, in the choruses (chori? Chorum?), only once during the bridge, and twice at the end. When it happens, you have to do some motion that acknowledge its presence. Usually we do a "ding ding" motion with our index fingers, or we tap each other's plates or arms. And if you miss one, we will make fun of you basically until the song ends. I'm not kidding, y'all, this happens every time the song comes on.

The last two songs on the CD are my favorite. The last song on the CD is now (in the last year) referred to as the "Guatemala song". Why? Because the whole song is about a volcano erupting, which happened last summer while I was there, but that's a story for another blog. But that is the clean-up song. The song that lets us know that Buffett Night is over. It would probably go on, but that's also usually when the mosquitos come out and try to eat us alive.

And sometimes, whenever there's company (like when El Chavo was here recently), we do something even crazier. We are all very proud of our tradition when it comes to Buffett Night, and we like to share it with others. But one time, things got a little crazy. We ate outside, and after we got done eating, Dad got out the BB gun. I'm not kidding. He, Chavo, and my brother shot at a target in our backyard until dark. Mom and I watched and laughed, and then we got bored and decided to dance on the back porch. And then Dad thought it would be a hilarious idea to test out the new electric fence... with his arm. Twice. We laughed ourselves into oblivion. We had not gotten that "redneck" in a long time. And it was an absolute blast, and truly an unforgettable night for all of us.

Buffett nights are the highlights of the summer. Its genuine family time that we all look forward to. Its good food, good family, and a great time together. I hope that all of you have a summer tradition that means as much to you as Buffett Nights mean to me.

What are your summer traditions?

Little Change of Pace

That's right everyone, its time for a little change.

Because we're waiting (waitiiiiiinng) waiting on the world to change. Well, not so much the world, but definitely what I normally do with these blog posts. It will be a "Serious Wednesday" a la Jon Acuff (google it). But its not quite Wednesday. And calling something a "Manic Monday" anything is just cliche and silly for something as usually fun and upbeat as this blog. Soooo.. I will just call it a:

"Deal-with-me-for-just-one-minute-and-I-promise-I-will-be-funny-again-soon" post. Now doesn't that roll off the tongue nicely?

You see, I haven't posted a blog in a few weeks. In fact, when I typed in blogspot, my computer (that remembers everything) didn't even fill in "blogspot" for me. And it should have. But why didn't it?

Because things have really sucked lately. Royally sucked.

Bypassing the medical issues that have gone on (don't worry, I'm fine) and some of the other things. I have been really sad. And when I say sad, I mean quite pathetic and emotional. Feeling inadequate and left-out only tips the iceberg of the crazy mess that I've made myself.  I find myself spending most of my daily life finding reasons to be upset. Because it can't really be me. It has to be something else. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I'm cold. That guy said something stupid. That person hurt my feelings. I got a bad grade on my final. I'm stressed.

No one wants to be funny when they're sad. Its hard to put on a game face when you just want to crawl under a rock. You need to look decent and presentable for public viewing.

To be honest, I have no idea where I am going with this entire blog post. I really didn't want it to be just a sad whine-fest before I hit "publish". I was just kind of hoping that God would inspire me to come up with a moral to this little story.

But see, I am already presentable for God's viewing. I don't have to put on a game face to be face-to-face with Jesus. I am going through this for a reason. And God may or may not have been testing me with it, but He will definitely get me through it. He gave me a wonderful Mom and boyfriend who have been worried about me this week. He gave me the ability to get up from the dirt. And he gave me His Son to die for my salvation.

That's a lot to ask for. But I didn't have to. Because God loves me now matter how crazy or upset or angry I can get.

That sounds like a pretty good moral to this story. I'll try not to be gone so long next time. And then I'll be funny again.

The Past School Year

So its finals week, which means I should be studying obsessively. But I'm not... I'm slowly waiting for the tylenol to kick in and letting the sweat on my clothes dry. Its a hot May day in Louisiana, which means I get to get 2 outfits dirty per day. One for the morning, and one for the afternoon!

Yeah, letting you know my wardrobe schedule and my proper glandular function was not the purpose of this blog. This quick little post was about what has gone on this school year. Because while in May, it feels like the 2 semesters went by very quick, they seemed to take forever when it was February. So lets just see what all has happened since last fall.

Got back from 2nd Guatemala trip.
Talked about said trip for about... forever.
Chavo met my parents.
Parents loved the Chavo.
Got a job at Starbucks.
Worked obsessively.
Tried to take Chemistry.
Church drama.
Dropped Chemistry.
Took 2 night classes.
Got to know the Chavo.
Helped the Chavo with seminary stuff.
Took a spanish placement test and figured out I could graduate early.
Decided to go back to Guatemala for winter break.
Raised money obsessively.
Made good friends with my Life Group girlies.
Bugged my parents about Guatemala.
Begged Chavo to come to Guatemala with me.
Chavo saw his sister get married in Guatemala, and therefore HAD to be there while I was there.
Trip #3.
Saw El Zapotillo for the first time.
Heard real, live, monkeys in the wild for the first time.
Learned spanish (for the most part).
Changed my major.
Obsessed about Guatemala some more.
Quit Starbucks.
Got a job babysitting.
Drama.
18 hours of class a week.
Wrote 7 papers in one semester.
Chavo and I fought a lot, and then we made up.
Got to see Chavo in seminary twice!
Chavo came to the hometown a few times.
Chavo and I went to New Orleans.
Silly thyroid stuff happened.
Started the Insanity Workout program.
Quit the Insanity Workout program.
Did more biology homework.
Chavo went to New York City without me.
Wrote 3 major papers in a week.
And now... finals.

Wow, that's a lot for just 9 months. I feel productive now! What happened to you for the last 9 months? For real, I want to know! I promise I'll read the comments after finals are over... Maybe.

Most embarrassing moment of my life

For those that are friends of mine on Facebook, you know that the most embarrassing thing happened to me today. It will rival any embarrassment you've ever felt. No one has been more embarrassed than I am right now. Its worse than America's Funniest Home Videos, People of Walmart, or anything that Lamebook that can ever come up with.

Well, today, I decided to dress up for my last day of classes. I curled my hair, painted my toenails, and put on a pretty sundress for classes. A pretty, white sundress.

I have a history quiz today, so roommate and I decided to study for said quiz. We sat in the library, I drank a Diet Coke, and we stayed there until history started. When it was time to leave, I had finished my Diet Coke, and we left the library to go to class. We were walking through the quad (a big open area, full of students, for those who don't know what a "quad" is), and I had to burp. It was right behind my throat. Roommate and I were laughing about it. I tried to shake it out of my esophagus, so I gallopped and jumped around the quad whilst walking to class. But it was all for naught.

But that was when the most embarrassing, horrible, terrible event occurred.

While walking (with a few people watching, I might add), I felt it.

It was on my behind... A breeze.

A breeze on my behind...

I looked around, and the back of my sundress had been pinned under my backpack from my gallopping and jumping. My whole, wide butt was exposed for the whole, wide quad to see.

and I started laughing out of humiliation. Roommate was confused. I took off running (after pulling my dress down) and ran from the crowd behind me, now blinded by my lily-white tuchus. And the laughing... inspired my burping.

So there I was, laughing, belching, nearly crying while tightly pulling my dress around my knees...

There is a moral to this story, but the humiliation is still too fresh for me to find it. I'm sure its something to do with pride and vanity. But I'm still too red-faced to care. I hesitate to even write this to you. But see, the thing is, that's what I'm all about, as you read in the last post. I laugh at myself to allow others to laugh with me.

And now, I would kindly like all of you to write what you think in the comments section, and never mention this again...

Being Funny

From the 8th grade to graduating high school, I was in a life group (fancy name for Sunday School for all those who don't understand new, hip, Christian lingo). It was aptly named the All Girls Life Group and was put on by 4 of the most Christlike, coolest ladies around.

Anyway, it was through this group that I truly developed as a Christian. There would be days where we would be deep in the Word, soaking it all in. There would be days where we would sit around and talk, and there were days where we just went to McDonald's and hang out.

Now, I am a very serious person. Ask anyone from my high school. I can be very serious (or another word that I'm not going to use on here, but it rhymes with "witchy") But in those 5 years in that life group, I realized something:

Sometimes, really dumb things happen.
Sometimes, really crazy things happen.
Sometimes, really funny things happen.
And I like to tell people about it, but I don't like when people laugh at me.

You ever do something stupid and have people laugh at you? They always say "Oh, we're not laughing at you, we're laughing WITH you."

Everyone who has ever heard that saying thinks the same thing: "But I'm not laughing." Now, I do a lot of dumb things. Often. And while sometimes I forget it. I found a solution to that problem. Its not to tell them to stop laughing, because that makes it worse... But laugh at yourself.

What do you feel when people laugh at you? Shame. Shame is classic. Shame has been around since Genesis. The first thing that Adam and Eve felt after sinning was shame. But before, in a land of paradise, we weren't meant for shame. Shame is saved for sin, not for that time that you accidently fell down the stairs and landed in the arms of a very, very cute TA. Or the time you had to mime diarrhea to Spanish-speaking-only ladies...

Some of the most interesting people I know can be called 'shameless'. And they're all funny, when they're shameless for the right reason. I believe a lack of shame is the source of most humor. Those who are unashamed to be themselves are the funnest. Those who embrace the humor of life are those who can share it.

And one day, in the 10th grade, I decided I wanted to be funny. That's right. I made a conscious decision to be funny. But it required practice. Luckily for me, no one generally listens to 10th graders. So I had plenty of time to practice my comedic act.

That life group was where I got a chance to spread my creative wings with an audience. I used my love for storytelling to make friends. And like my father, I can tell stories with quite an amount of gusto. Well, one Sunday, in that class, I was telling one ridiculous story about something crazy that God did, and I heard it.

"Oh, Valerie, you're so crazy. You just crack me up."

It was through that where I realized how much I love to cheer people up. I genuinely enjoy it. See, laughing is a funny thing (pun unintended). I think its one of the funniest noises that God created. And He created a trillion different laughs. It burns calories too! Ever laugh so hard that your abs hurt? Its awesome. You should.

Today, I challenge you to find the humor in your day. Think funny thoughts. Wonder why we can't park in handicapped parking spaces, but we can go in handicapped bathroom stalls. Wonder why 12:00 am confuses us so badly. 12 am? Is that midnight or noon? Its mightnight. Which one? The one before the day or afterwards?

Find the humor in your day. And let me know what you find.

Fun times with El Chavo

Well, I'm back. I put off doing a blog the day after I got back to hang out with my super-awesome family. Got to get lunch with Mama, my Aunt, and my Mimi. It was pretty snazzy.

But this last weekend was awesome. I left college at 11:30 with my snacks to make myself feel better about eating healthy.

And drove the 7 hours to the Seminary. As soon as I got there, Chavo and I headed downtown because there was an Art Festival. We got pizza and watched Better than Ezra perform!

That Saturday, we spent the ENTIRE day at Six Flags. We rode a bunch of the big roller coasters. We rode the Titan, which was both of our favorites. The Superman ride scared me to death, so after that, we left. But like I said, we were there all day (from 10 am to 5 pm). And being the absentminded redhead that I am, I forgot sunscreen and got veeeeeeery sunburned.

See that super-white line on my left shoulder? Yeah, that's skin. And before you fuss at me, 4 other people already have: Chavo, Mama, Mimi, and my doctor. Yeah, the last one was really grumpy at me about my sunburn. But hey! I forgot. It happens. You ever forget? It happened to me.

That night, I didn't want to move anywhere or touch anything, so we went to Barnes & Noble. And I sat there and read about 10 magazines. And it was glorious.

And wanting to be able to spread out, I slept on an air mattress in the middle of the living room of a very awesome lady who also does missions in Guatemala! She was really cool to talk to. She's also in the Master Chorale with the Chavo. I got the privilege of watching them sing in a Master Chorale concert on Sunday night, but I'm getting too ahead of myself.

Sunday morning, we went to church. There was a painter there that painted a really awesome mural of the Resurrection. I wish I could remember his name, and I really wish I could tell you more about the painting. But I was just coming out of a bout of sun poisoning and don't remember much about that morning. But afterwards, we got fajitas for lunch and relaxed until the concert that night.

The concert was about 45 minutes away from the seminary. So Chavo, nice lady that housed me, and I, went to this "Whites Chapel". It was the biggest, whitest chapel I've ever seen. It was in a Methodist church, and it was gigantic. However, finding parking was a nightmare. I dropped off nice lady and Chavo at the front so that they wouldn't be late to rehearse, and I took off to find parking. I must have made 2 laps around the church before I found "The Land of Milk and Parking".

And when I walked into the church, I walked directly into a handbell rehearsal. Perfect.

But the concert.... was incredible.

They did Mozart's Requiem and all sorts of things. It was awesome. It was all in Latin, and my tuchus fell asleep, but I was very impressed. They're going to New York in May, and it's going to be SAH-WEET.

Look at the Chavo in his snazzy tuxedo!

But it was an awesome weekend. I even got to see Chavo play his trumpet in his Master class before I left for my parents' house. It was really cool. And after the class and lunch at Central Market (DELICIOUSNESS!!!!!) I left Ft. Worth and said my goodbyes. And I also got to see this gem of an awkward billboard.

What a great deal on being cremated?!

The weekend was great, and I got to do some pretty awesome things. My sunburn is still healing, but its all good. I'm ready to go back!

P.S. I almost forgot to tell y'all. Maybe you won't find this near as cool as I did, but there's this one gas station in Longview that I always stop at. Its the Texas Smokehouse. Its kind of the coolest gas station ever. Not only does it have a Sonic and sell beef jerky of about a billion flavors, it has this.

 "So what, Ginger Spice?" you're probably thinking. Well, that delicious red bottle on the right is Rosa de Jamica. The most delicious tea ever. And I've never been able to find it bottled in the US. That white bottle on the left is Horchata, which is pretty awesome too. But rosa de jamaica is the best. By far.

Gummy Vitamins and Floss: The Day I Became an Adult

Passively justifying posting 3 days in a row, I probably won't blog for the next few days. Because I'm visiting my boyfriend, the Chavo. And for those who don't know what a Chavo is, I suggest you go youtube "Chavo del Ocho". You might need subtitles, but its the funniest really old TV show there is. It just also happens to be in spanish.

Chavo is in the seminary right now, so we got a nice little long-distance relationship going. We get to see each other about once a month. This weekend is just particularly exciting because I get to see one of his Master Chorale Concerts! Yippee! If I didn't have to be dressed up, I would totally paint a white t-shirt with "Master Chorale Groupie" on it (just because I love irony, and calling myself a groupie of a Seminary Choir would fulfill my irony quota for the week).

Anyway, today is something that I have to tell you about me. I sometimes like to get out of responsibilities because I'm still technically a teenager. Just a few more months left before I turn 20! Santas vacas, Batman!
So, yes, I'm 19. And Chavo likes to make fun of me when I don't do things that adults should do. Here's an actual conversation that we've had:

Me: Do you floss?
Chavo: Yes, why?
Me: You do? Like, every day?
C: Yes, everyday. You don't?
Me: No! I'll never floss. Ever. I've even straight-up told my dentist that I will never start flossing.
C: Oh, you should. You really should always floss. Every day. You can skip a day brushing your teeth, but don't ever skip flossing. I can tell the different when I don't do it.
Me: No, you can't.
C: No, really! You can tell!

This conversation went on for a long time. But for the sake of brevity, I'll tell you that that night, I took boyfriend at his word and I flossed! And guess what, my gums bled. Like, a lot. It made me want to go spit blood on his shoes in a defiant "Look what you made me do!" kind of loogy. But I'm a little more mature than that. So instead, I whined for about 10 minutes. But I flossed that night. And the next night. And the next night.

And I'll have you know, I have flossed every day since then. And I'm pretty sure that was well over a month ago. Aren't you proud?

Well, in a moment of feeling proud of making it to maturity (like its a pretty picture you hang on the fridge), I went and bought vitamins. Chavo suggested I get them because they're supposedly GOOD FOR YOU! Ah, bollocks. I don't believe him. But I saw the perfect compromise.

One-A-Day gummy vitamins. The perfect combination of adulthood and immaturity. Its like a molding of Chavo and myself into a perfect little strawberry-shaped gummy. And I take them every day. And they're yummy. Maybe one day I'll graduate to real "pill vitamins". But hey, baby steps, people!!! I'm already flossing, what more do you want?

Taking steps toward maturity, but I'll never truly get there. After all, we have to grow old, but we never have to grow up! And like a true Southern woman, I'm going to fight both of those tooth-and-nail!

Bucket Lists

Do you have a bucket list? My roommate and I got in an argument about whether or not everyone has a bucket list. She doesn't. I do.

I like to think that anyone who saw the movie The Bucket List was so inspired by such an awesome movie (despite the fact that icky song "Say What You Need to Say" is in the soundtrack) to do a bucket list of their own. And for those who are unfamiliar with what a bucket list is (how is it, living under a rock? What do you do when it rains?), it is a list of the things you want to do before you die or "kick the bucket." Some of us got the idea to make a bucket list from the movie A Walk to Remember. And then there were some who got the idea from the 100th episode of Touched by an Angel (which is a truly amazing episode. I cry like a baby every time).

In preparation for this blog, I tried to find my bucket list. But I'm pretty sure I left it on the nightstand beside my bed at my parents' house. My parents once made the joke that I better keep adding to the list, but its pretty long. I know there are at least 50 things. And I'm pretty sure I added a 2nd page last year, but I digress.

A few things on my bucket list that I remember off the top of my head are:
1) Learn a different language
2) Bungee Jump
3) Skydive
4) Read the bible cover to cover
5) Go to Italy, Kenya, and Australia (these were all separate, but for the sake of space, have been combined)

Those are just a few things that I haven't done yet. Granted, learning the different language is coming along, and so is the reading the Bible thing, but the other ones I haven't done.

The reason that bucket lists have been on my mind today is because I really want to add something to it. And that is: Go to India. Hearing about missionaries there has really been amazing these past few days. And personally, as chicken as I am, I really want to go. So, I'm adding it to the Bucket List as soon as I get to my parents' house in a few days.

And with that said, I will not make this post as long as my first one. And because I enjoy feedback, I'm leaving you with a question:

What is on your bucket list? Or, if you had a bucket list, what would you want on it?