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."