"If I had one wish.." Man, Ray J hit the nail on the head...

“People often say that motivation doesn't last. Well, neither does bathing - that's why we recommend it daily.”

We’re inspired by people, places and thing. The people who I am moved by the most are usually my best friends and my family. Here's the Skinny, one of my favorite blogs written by one of my favorite friends, Cadence Renice Oliver Peeples, has stirred me to write about my wants, needs, likes and dislikes; and I’m going to somewhat steal her “listing style”.. So thank you Cado for lending me some much needed blogging stimulation!

I need…:

-A Temper Pedic… the mattress above all mattresses’ that I covet the most… oh, if only I could wake up every day rejuvenated on my Cali King Temper, I probably wouldn’t pop every bone in my body as much, excluding my knees because I just like how that feels…oh, and my elbows, too!

-Money… isn’t that a top need for mostly everyone (even though I did put a mattress as number 1 above the loot).


-Julian’s sebaceous cyst to be popped… I’ve tried 3 times to squeeze that sucker out with no luck. Now it’s a nasty scab and what’s worse, an eye-soar. Sheesh.



-My move into the new apartment to go without a hitch, glitch or snag… Yes, yes. This is crucial for both mine and Matty’s sanity. Thank the Lord for that beautiful, beautiful man.



-A new phone… A really technological piece like the rest of the world has….I can only imagine the inspiration I’ll gather from such a hi-tech apparatus… my blogs would be amplified and enhanced 100 times over.



-To stop picking the massive blisters on my feet…As a result, I’m now suffering from hip tendinitis.

-To see my family…It’s been a long time, and I miss my Ma and Pa




I want…:

-A bicycle… I may want one, but would I use it all that much? Probably not…Let’s move on



-A new camera… You know that one girl at every party who takes like a million candids and then posts them on Facebook and everyone’s like, “Damnit M.C., I hate when you put candids up because they’re really awful of everyone…..”…. uhhh..oh…wait.

-A new wardrobe... I don’t have any particular articles of clothing as of yet, and I wouldn’t purchase any right now due to the fickleness of Georgia weather, but I do know I’m going to get some killer boots, man.



-a Bugmesh…. This looks legit…Period. But a little anecdote for you: When I was a kid, I use to wake up early every morning (like most children) just to watch infomercials. One time, my mom overheard me when I was taking a bath, and I was pretending to sale some soap or a washcloth or my brother’s G.I. Joes, and apparently I made sure the consumer knew, “Sorry. No COD’s.” I was telling Matt this story the other day, and we both were questioning COD’s… So Matt, I googled it, and it means “cash on delivery.” And now we know.




-a Topstyler… I don’t know why I think this product will work, but I have high hopes that it will. Yet, like most products on television I’ve purchased on impulse, they’ve failed miserably.




For instance, NADs hair removal gel concocted by those two Australian women with caterpillars for eyebrows (apparently, they stood by their product, they just didn’t use it personally). These women claimed NADs was edible (?)… so I tried it. This green goo substance didn’t remove any of the thick jet black hair on my 10 year-old arms or legs, but it wasn’t bad on the taste buds. I’ll still consider this a fail. There was also another product I had seen on a 6 am infomercial that really snagged my attention: a self-tanner that promised to change my pale olive skin (thanks David) into a warm, tan glow. Mom thought it was worth a shot and so boop-didd-a-lee-doop, we bit the bait. Sadly, this product left me in my white cotton-under-roo’s in Betsey’s bathroom, with Betsey in plastic gloves carefully slapping on the doo-doo brown self-tanner that unfortunately stained not only the rug, but her hands and my entire body, as well. Again, another false promise…. Thanks a whole heap, A.S.O.T. land.

-To color my hair… Nothing crazy..just a nice shiny, solid all over color. No honey or caramel streaks. What is this? 2002? I should rant about this in my dislike column.

I like:

-Lemon water…So good for your skin.
-Facebook chat… A saver from even worse arthritis in the long run…
-Thinking of baby names… I’ve had this obsession with names and multiple births from a wee age. I hope I have twins with the coolest names ever… And I hope they’re not smelly, spoiled or too short either.

I dislike:

-Women who still put streaks of color in their hair…Whether bold or skinny, I’m sorry, it’s amateur and a bit skanky, if you will. I feel it can be a true representation of one’s love life. With that said, stick to one color.








-Bad drivers… HUGE pet peave. HUGE.
-Always being the responsible one. And that’s all I’m going to say about that..

Of course I could add more to any one of these budding lists, but I’ll keep it semi-short. Maybe I’ll start posting this list once a week… Who knows?

Thanks for stopping by.

MaryClaire

Godspeed, My Love...

Here I go again on my own!!! It’s true. This gal is moving...in with herself. As excited as I truly am to live in this big city unaccompanied, almost virginally wide-eyed and vigilant, my heart will be heavy from missing nights in the den with Mauricio. An even sadder realization that those precious hours I get to spend with Anna during the week will be cut even shorter. We’re all on such different schedules; it’s hard to make family time. What little time we do get to spend together is treasured, just like my friendships with these two.


I will miss them, laughing with them, napping with them, feasting with them and shooting the shat with them; it’s going to be hard to go from walking into a house full of crazy to coming home to just Joe (and I worry about his loneliness, too). Yet, I’m so fortunate to know this entire move is in my Father’s hands, and it’s something in which we’ve all confirmed will be for the best…for all three of us.

It’s the little things in life we are told to appreciate. Interestingly enough, it was a little spat with the roomies that turned into an epiphany in which I had no alternative but to welcome. As mature adults, I’m honestly relieved there are no hard feelings regarding my moving out and on to conquer life in a one bedroom, one bath (I can't wait to find the place and get some pictures up on here for everyone!) The situation was trivial, really, but led my train of thought down a path in which I had not given much thought too—albeit it may have been a once distant dream.

Without knowing the entire situation from start to finish, it would be difficult for any outsider to view this move as anything other than selfish. My decision to leave is far from thoughtless, though. In fact, God allowed me to put my wants and needs in perspective while simultaneously considering my relationship with my roommates.

Here we have Mauricio (God, I love this man), doing his damndest to make a living, while his entire family is in Costa Rica. He comes “home” to an old, raggedy futon, two dogs bickering worse than the old hags on The View, and estrogen, estrogen, estrogen city. Ok, let’s not kid ourselves; I forget we’re talking about me and Anna (we could probably just split one “estrogen” between the two of us and call it a day). But my point being, I can empathize with him not having a space to call his own. Having to live out of one closet in a sunroom with little to no privacy would be a challenge for anyone. My emotional state would be chaotically distressed, and trying to cover rent, utilities, a personal life, and two jobs would mentally drain a lesser man.

This epiphany to offer Mauricio some normalcy in his hectic schedule was just another nudge from ole’ J.C. allowing me to say, “Hey, since you and most of your stuff are already here, why don’t you sublet my room? It would be crazy not to jump on this faster than a hornet with ‘roid rage.” Luckily, he did!

As for me and Anna, our relationship only grows stronger the older we get. What a blessing. We’ve learned over many, many years of practicing our communication skills, we’re not always going to be on the same page, and hey, it’s going to take way more than that to break us. It’s amazing to know our friendship won’t fail because we disagree. Yes, we may have big fights or small trivial quarrels like any best friends, but bottom line (our choice phrase), we’re in love.

In this situation, we chose to remove any unnecessary baggage and contemplate what’s best for us in the long run. Stumble down a possible road of growing bitterness and resentment? Or make a mature decision to agree to disagree and close the gate to that road completely? We chose the latter and we did it together. I love Anna Claire for a multitude of reasons, and I’m honored to have her as a life-long friend and something more, a sister.



The Lord’s strategies and exit plans for our lives are difficult to navigate. When the ink runs out at the end of one chapter, for a split second, we may believe the tip of the feather won’t again be dipped. Let’s be honest: we couldn’t wrap our earthly minds around His plan if we tried. The book Stronger, written by Jim Daly, opened my eyes to many realizations. Yet, the point he drove home most was that it’s best to not let our hearts get to the breaking point of dismay. Allow God to be God. Give Him the opportunity to change our hearts, our minds and our actions to follow Him, and the rest of our wants and needs will follow suit.

Since finishing the book in February, I have chosen to leave the big, messy, and grizzly decisions , along with the small, and what may seem insignificant, decisions with He who knows best. He has yet to disappointment. Talk about being your solid rock!

Like I always say, everything happens for a reason. At the end of it all, I’d like to just keep being surprised…



For Anna:

She was the Cinnamon on My Toast.. We Were So Close.

Break-ups hurt. It pangs the heart, the ego and our pride. I’ve suffered many a hurtful severance in past relationships with boys I thought were thebomb.com, but inevitably, were too good to be true (or hardly that). Today, it’s not about any one guy I gave the benefit of the doubt too, it’s about her.

Although I know this blog will never reach her, I will still respect her enough to not mention her name. For all of those who know me and this particular situation, I’m sure you can circumnavigate the bush I’m beating around and can safely assume who this blog is really concerning. For those of you who do not, I’ll just call her “Lynn.”

Lynn and I met in college. For 18 years, we grew up literally fifteen minutes from one another in the same small town, but God didn’t cross our paths until her freshman year at UWG. It only took about a week for us to latch onto one another, and this is how we stayed for the rest of college...inseparable.

Our friendship was easy breezy, loving, fun, memorable but with great dismay, short-lived. Lynn wasn’t just the best friend who I shared with my deepest secrets, thoughts, interests and credo. She was my family, and I loved her likewise.

There’s no reason to brutally rip off any and all band-aids that hide my deep wounds regarding our demise. I’ve learned the past should remain in the past. I’ve forgiven the hurt she caused me then, and I hope she has done similarly. But the truth is I wouldn’t be writing this blog specifically about her if I wasn’t still a little heartsick about it all.

While I understand that God has a plan, and I undoubtedly believe that everything happens for a reason, I still can’t help but question why she and I are no longer in each other’s lives. I begin to wonder if he removed me from hers because I was damning to her well-being or vice versa. Sometimes, I let myself believe she’s better off without me, but I have to quickly remind myself that while I may feel I’m not better off without her, she may just be better at hiding it.

It's not that I constantly sit and stew over this issue, however, some days I do because I miss her considerably. I think about her infectious laugh, her awkwardness, her style, her sense of humor, her goals I admired, her mannerisms, her family, her dog. I think about our friendship, and I hurt because a big chunk of me feels vacant without her.

Although I have reached out several times to her in the past but to no avail, I have to assume there is an underlining issue that has still not been resolved. I'd like to think the genuine alligator tears and the "I'm sorry for everything" covered all the bases, but sometimes people need more than words, and I can respect that. I suppose there is no quick-fix and only time will be the ultimate mend. I really hope we can mend. Please, Lord, let us mend.

It’s the lyrics, the music in the car, the road-trips, the yellow t-shirt, her comfy bed, the movie quotes, the recipes, the late night study sessions, the pictures, the lazy days, the jokes, the parties, the good times and the bad… I miss everything. I miss my Lynn.

My relationship with Lynn was obviously unforgettable. I pray for her and pray our friendship may one day be rekindled. This may not be in the hand we were given, but I just know that I can’t forget about our house of cards.

I love you, Lynn.

James and a Giant Pickle

"Don't go making mountains out of molehills," was a common expression in my household as I was budding into the teenage angst of the early 2000’s. Needless to say, there was a good basis behind the frequency in which I would hear this cliché.

Melodramatic became an identifier that I abhorred. Maybe because I felt every teenager was classified as “over-the-top,” being that the array of uncultivated adolescent hormones were practically spewing from our orifices every chance they had between the back-talking, smarting off and/or grumbling profanities. I didn’t want to be like every other teenager (though I was). In my mind, I was different and more mature, if you will. That’s laughable. I never listened to anyone but myself, because, didn’t you know? I was always right.

Well, in retrospect, I may have had a molecular amount of maturity when it came to certain situations. After all, I was granted the genetics of logic and realism from Betsey, and the compassion for people from ole’ Dave. Through their spiritual guidance, dusty advice (synonymous with knowledgeable, worldly, erudite, cultured, etc. for those wondering) and somewhat strict laws of the land, my beliefs were shaped by a profound mental and spiritual soundness. Albeit, all of this wonderfully eclectic information and advice came at an early age, I obstinately decided not to utilize most of it until I was around 22 years old.

Before someone decides to jump ahead of me (Aunt Julie), let me just state this: I was a handful; a handful of mixed emotions with a deplorable temper, unpredictable disposition and raw wit. At times, living with me could be equivalent to eating bloody cows hid topped with the rotting flesh of a bed-stricken obese man. I was a rolling ball of chaos from the ages of 12 to 21. Yet, it was almost overnight when I came to the realization concerning the true fundamentals of life, gaining an abundance of clarity and a nice helping of maturity, as well! (Let me skip around, but I’ll come back to this.)

I was once asked to define the word wisdom by Abbie Brown, my cabin leader at church camp. At age fourteen, I find my answer, still to this day, as a direct response from the Lord. “What is wisdom? Godly knowledge.” It didn’t register until recently how philosophical my response had been.

Wisdom isn’t something given, but attained. As God is all-knowing and has our best interests at heart, we too should strive to be wise. Whether it be making wise choices financially; putting our money where our mouth is; using not only our words but our actions to walk the walk and talk the talk; being silent if we have nothing pleasant to say at all. "Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger;" James 1:19 ESV.

While the phrase “you’re hearing me but you’re not listening to me” can be examined in a psychological sense as to how human’s ‘hear’ and ‘listen’, to me it is an over-used yet unappreciated expression that hits close to home. In fact, it can be heard bellowing through homes across the world in various vernaculars and translations by parents aching to hit the hearts of their children. But what about our heavenly Father who is saying the same thing to His children?

When I hear something, I’m not forced to act. If I’m listening, I’m expected to react. Shouldn’t this be how we treat the Lord’s words and messages to us? I want to listen to the wisdom He has for me, not just hear about it. Now I realize it’s no longer about me and being right (I hardly ever am anyways, just ask Matt Cheij). What’s important in my life has been made so lucid—His plan, not my own; His wisdom, not my know-how. I find strength in dissonance because I know there’s a reason behind the friction. I’m at peace when distressed because I’m reassured by His hands over me.

So I challenge myself, my friends and strangers alike, "But prove yourselves doers of the word, and not merely hearers who delude themselves." James 1:22.

This is what I’ve learned to be fundamental. Listening to Christ Jesus, whose power and presence is bigger than any problem or person in my way. Utilizing this scripture to be the solid foundation for your life and God’s work is wisdom… this is Godly knowledge.

Love,
MaryClaire

A clean pair of eyes

I have a type A personality (big shocker there), which fashions this efficiently organized, time-conscious monster who is a list-maker and rule-breaker by nature, all conveniently and masterfully crammed into a 5 foot frame. It would go against every thread in my being to not be one of those people who plans to make plans; therefore, it should go without saying that I am a planner (but not a plotter).



Yet, I’ve come upon a realization recently that has rapt my systematic little life: those who don’t plan live an arbitrary existence; improvisational living may be the way to go. Randomness, typically in a profusion flowing from my chops and not resonating through my actions, isn’t my normalcy (I’ve accepted I’m not as cool as everyone else in this aspect. Whatever.). I have a bed time and I’m 22 (on the verge of 23). I live by order rather than chaos. I have a dog, a job, responsibilities, deadlines, bills and let’s not forget neighbors. It’s imperative I make to-do lists and pencil in scheduled visits with my boyfriend.

But (and it’s a big one), this year I’ve let go of this neurotic freaky-deeky mentality, and handed over the reins for others to fret about the details (especially for any type of outing). What a brilliant beyond brilliant concept! Not feeling the need to be the one in charge? Not having to divvy out who does what, when, and where? To just sit back and let life slow down around me, to really soak up my surroundings is sheer ingenuity.

I’ve had some very memorable, fun trips, but none compare to the ones I’ve had so far in 2011.

I’ll give you some examples:

1. The Hangout Festival- such a surreal experience. I literally drove there, got in the right state of mind, and listened to high-quality, crunchy tunes on the beach. I have to share some of my experience.
*This is Bassnectar doing what he does best…(making us all lose our
minds). Holy smokes… It was enthralling.



2. Camping in the Mountains with Matt—couldn’t have had a better time, just the two of us. He did all the work (he’s a planner, too. I’m not sure how two Type A’s can mesh, but we do, and brilliantly I must say). We fished, grilled a great dinner, went exploring and made up our own dart game (thanks to our neighbors!!) All-in-all, it was an exceptionally wonderful weekend with the beau.


3. Amy’s Lake House—that trip was awesome. I love meeting new people and coincidently met the love of my life on this trip. God is in everything that we do, and it was oh so apparent that weekend!



4. David Gray Concert—I accompanied John Newton, and we had a ball. The day of the concert wasn’t going too smoothly for either of us, but we got there, grabbed a drink (or 4) and let our inhibitions surrender to the sweet sounds of D.G. His voice is smoother than a Robin’s breast.





It’s almost July, the year’s only half-way through, and the trips, concerts and fun times have no end in sight (wait, am I writing for The West Georgian again?) I have a feeling that if I continue down this road of going along for the ride, I’ll find that carsickness will be a thing of the past….ironically enough, I have to sit in the front seat to not get carsick, which counteracts my metaphor, entirely…whatever. I'll leave you with another one of Julian's stitching's....

This is either a sea creature or his interpretation of Matt when he's in trouble...

So Says I...

The phrase "never say never" has never been more evidently true than in the here and now of my young adult life. Scratch that, adult life. I'm not referencing the Beib either..[(Asian face: -____-) <---for Trish.] Let me give a few examples:



Once a vegetarian, I vowed to never eat at or associate with McDonald's, and now ironically enough, I work as the Public Relation's Administrator for a McDonald's franchise. Those golden arches that I once detested are now keeping me clothed, warm and fed, rather than the manifestation of a bubbly gut of disgust.



At age 14, I swore up and down I'd never be anything like my mother when I grew up. Low and behold, I find myself frequently channeling Betsey's actions, thoughts and words, only to reiterate the phrase "I have become my mother." If only I always appreciated her as much as I do now... (If only the "if only's" could be vindicated).



In the aftermath of what I considered to be a life-sucking, heart-obliterating hopelessly unwarranted break-up , I wrote off relationships and told myself I'd never be in love again. Yet, through the powers that be (Amen, Hallelujah, Praise Jesus!), right here and right now, I'm in the most healthy, stable and loving relationship to date...and with my best friend.



So says I, such cliches stand at the forefront of how most of us decide to handle our problems. Thus, we react with resourceful, inspired yet unoriginal solutions, (taking from such examples as: you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink.. or you can view the glass half full or half empty..or don't cut off your nose to spite your face..or there's two ways to skin a cat....etc.) I guess what I mean by that is, we utilize these figures of speech consciously and subconsciously in our behaviors and thoughts, until one day it clicks; the phrase becomes a motto in which we stand firmly behind.

So says I, I think it's time for me to grab a spork, warm up my words and dive in. I'll be the first to admit when I'm wrong (now-a-days), so here it is...I will never say never again.. especially since I'm usually the one with a mouthful.