these things aren't false.

fact: it's thursday and i'm listening to 15 step by radiohead.

fact: i have a new 5.5 mile route that i love.

fact: rachel getting married was an amazing movie. i wish i could be a guest at that wedding.

fact: i haven't been swimming yet this summer.

fact: saying,"heeeeey giiiiiiirl, waaaaazzzup," to me from your car at QT does not win you points.

fact: the weeds are wining.

fact: i haven't been dreaming much lately. when i do, they've been from bizarro land.

fact: wilco's heavy metal drummer just came on my ipod

fact: i'm anticipating something big and it's killing me (in a good way.)

fact: random hand rubbing like as if to start a fire is strange and totally unnecessary.

One more thing

my hair hasn't been this long in like 8 years.

notes, from me to you.

1. it is entirely acceptable to make chipotle, bacon chili in the middle of the summer when it is the best thing you may have ever tasted.

2. a cordless sweeper will revolutionize your life if you have hardwood floors. shell out the money, it's worth it.

3. that scuff on the wall may just need to be washed off with water. try it. the bathroom will look new again.

4. don't pick the nut grass. it makes it worse. seriously. trust me. and if you don't know what nutgrass is, good for you.

5. training for a half marathon again, four years later, feels great. do it.

6. if you think you have a lot of CDs/Music/Itunes, wait until you meet B. you lose, every time.

7. when things don't work, it's very convenient to have a man who knows how to fix them. and it might shock you every time. this may never wear off. but if it does, savor it now.

8. when you start remembering on sundays that the bachelorette is on "tomorrow," it is probably no longer a show that you keep "accidentally catching." just admit that you watch it.

9. if you dog is so nice and sweet and great that he helps you forget how nice and sweet and great your old dog was, take him on an extra-long walk tonight.

10. don't ever do the "no carb" thing again. if for no other reason than bread is so damn good.

blinded by love.

i ran 5.25 miles this morning. when i got home, b and kolby joined me for a short cool-down walk. about five minutes in, b says, "man, the trees are really stinky today." and i was like, "what are you talking about?" and he goes, "you know, those trees that smell like butt..." and i said, "um, honey, i think that might be me you're smelling. i did just run 5.25 mils and haven't showered yet."

he got closer. yes, it was me.

i should have let him continue to blame the trees.

summer.

murmurs floating across
streets filled with
maples reaching toward heaven
a magnolia or two
and that unruly pine
- i hear you.

whispers of intimate conversation
seep through your screen
to mine -
and i imagine what words you're choosing
to sing into your lover's ear
on this night
of 80-degree breeze
and empty bottles of chilled wine

and do you smell that, too?
the smoked meat smoldering
on the neighbor's grill.

does it make your mouth water
as it does mine? even mine.
with a stomach full of turkey burgers
and sweet corn.

even mine.

lazy reporting?

i was alerted yesterday, thanks to a comment from a columist at PBS.org, that she used an excerpt from one of my unemployment blogs for a story that ran yesterday.

the excerpt she used was credited to me. however, she lead with,"Take, for example, the perspectives on unemployment emerging from the blogosphere. In this entry, a jobless woman from Kansas City hits bottom."

okay, i didn't hit bottom. i was depressed, yes. i was upset, true. but each day was different. some had brighter spots than others. and i think most of my loyal readers realize something: i am sarcastic. and while this post was honest, it was also a bit sarcastic. like the whole wanting to start drinking at noon thing, which she featured prominately.

i appreciate the credit, and the heads-up. but i would have rather been told before it published. and really, i mean, as a journalist (which i am), i would at least have attempted to contact the source prior to publishing. as a courtesy if nothing else. you know, what goes around comes around. you get what you give. that type of thing.

here's what she wrote.

what do you think?

also, she's happy to report i've found a job. don't forget, for all of you out there itching to hire me, i'm still mostly available. this job is temporary. i need something permanent.

answer.

sometimes i wonder if i just wasn't humble enough. and this is supposed to teach me ultimate humility. but why does it have to be so hard?

these streets, they breathe.

these streets are familiar -
the sound the wind makes as it
whips through the trees,
the way each house looks
as dusk falls
earlier
each
day
until,
i can no longer walk them after work
when i recall
the way the mud puddles after each storm
(the way it always has)
and during rains that are closer to mist than rain really -
and how there, right there, in the middle of this sidewalk
that may or may not have my name carved in it,
kolby walks straight through
paying no mind to
the dirt that's saturated with july's sweat
because he sees that squirrel -
the one i didn't notice
until his pace quickened and his whine became
suddenly audible.

and even though he tries,
he'll never catch it.

so we watch it
r
u
n
up that maple over there -
the one i look so forward to seeing in autumn
when it
sets the yard on
hot
pink
fire -
the perfect spot for
photos and picnics and catching my breath to remember
that this is home

and it always had been, really.

embracing the city.

tried to go to the wine walk on delaware yesterday. but neither b nor i can drink red. that's pretty much all that was being offered so instead, we bought 3/4 of a bottle of white and sat outside of eljays for a couple hours sipping it. while there, we ran into michael foust, the chef and owner of farmhouse restaruant. (in the old delaware cafe spot.) he's also an old family friend. anyway, they're just open for lunch right now, but i am so excited to go there. they try very had to be green, buy mostly local and just really care about serving good, quality food.

after finishing our wine, we checkout out our friend's kimberly and troy's new place the westside local. um, can we say new favorite hangout? we split the deviled eggs appetizer and then split a roast beef sandwich and garlic fries. the beef was local grass-fed beef and was amazing. we'll be back for sure.

and i realize i totally just sounded all name-droppy. but these are the only two restaurant people that i know personally. and i just happen to be excited about their places. so go. just go.

happy hour.

i needed to go out tonight. i had a challenging day at my contract job. and by challenging i mean, by 10:30 i was hoping for a glass of wine and a break.

so when b got home we went out and had some wine and some lobster ravioli. only, this "lobster" ravioli had no actual lobster anywhere near it. lots of mushrooms. a good cream sauce. but lobster? nope. usually this would have bothered the h e double L out of me. but i let it roll off my back. because i was in the mood to relax, to rejuvenate and to forget about all of my problems. so i ate the mushroom and cream ravioli without much complaining and then...

then we came back home. and i stretched out on the patio wall and stared at the sky. the clouds moving fast, the sun setting, the mosquitos biting. and regardless, that moment of peace reminded me that i was home. and that no matter what i spend my day doing, where i lay my head is what counts.

eliminating some of the cheese factor ( a semi-religious rant.)

on the way to work yesterday, i was listening to k-love and the cheesiest christian song came on. i mean, cheesy. the kind where at the end a chorus of creepy-sounding children start chanting "jesus, oh, jesus, oh jesus, we love you." which is fine. becuase yes, they do love him. but i just don't see the need to tack it to the end of ths already-cheesy song. this is the problem with a lot of mainstream christian music today. the "cheese factor."

and this got me thinking. about the problem with mainstream christian churches, too. or at least, mega-churches. it's the lights and the state-of-the-art sound system and programs and the stadium-sized buildings and anyway, i'm not questioning the hearts of any of the people who attend these churches. in fact, i've been one of them. but what i wonder is if that is what God truly intended us to do with our money. when he asks us to take up our cross and follow him, is he literally telling us to build huge buildings for programs and to serve its memebers. what about the community? the cities in which these churches sit. what about the poor and the needy and the people who might not come to the huge gym-sized church on a quiet tree-lined street. is it up to us to assume someone else is taking care of those people and those communities? or do we need to minimize our own "cheese factor." sure, the well-rehersed processions on easter are touching, but the homeless people under the bridge aren't being touched. i wonder if we spend too much time preaching to the choir instead of to the streets.

suspending belief.

so i'm sitting in a room with no windows, chewing gum, waiting for lunch. i'm hungry. i've been hungry a lot lately. for sushi and avacado and kombucha. for homemade fajitas and chicken burritos and for anything made with love from me to b. because lately, i've been feeling very domestic. last night i chopped up organic heirloom tomatoes, garlic, red onion, jalapeno and some italian flat-leaf parsely. then i mixed it all together with course sea salt and olive oil. it was very good. we ate it on top of grilled chicken with shredded white cheddar, freshly mashed avacado, black beans and a tortilla. i wish i was home right now to eat more. and to have divine conversation with B on the screened-in. about love and life and family and how it's so nice to finally be surrounded by trees and birds and one, giant magnolia.

but instead i'm in this room with no windows. and i'm counting down to lunch.

and the beat goes on.

last night, i had ice cream for dinner. cookies and cream. and a bit of a brownie. because it was sarah's birthday and i spent my dinner hour kicking my own but on a yoga mat on the living room floor. i used weights and did things like 100 squats, leg lifts, "the fly" and more. the cat was confused. so was kolby. and so was my body that is used to working up a sweat in the gym or on a run. not in the living room with the wood floors creaking from the weight of me doing 120 chest presses and then 30 pushups - followed by crunches, the bridge and dead lifts.

then B and i went on a walk through our neighborhood and i loved it. the breeze, the temperature, the way that kolby pooped in the neighbor's yard the ONE time i didn't have a poop pick-up bag.

and then, the girls came over for small group. and we had brownies and ice cream for sarah's birthday. and we watched this rob bell nooma about how when we are going through the storm, that's when god holds us closest. and i'd seen it before. this nooma about rain and storm and god's love for us and the way that if we just trust him, we'll make it out - but somehow this time, it made more sense.

because i have come out of the storm. or of one of many. but i'm here. standing on solid ground. and wood floors that squeak when i walk on them.

true.

Hallway of Trees lyrics by Sleeping at Last

It's just beyond those trees...
The place I've been dreaming of.
Will you follow me?
Trust me, I know where I'm going.
It's somewhere here within the leaves...

There must be some mistake...

Trust me, I know where I'm going
We'll cut a path out for us
Through the green seas,
We'll make hallways of leaves
I know it seems it was just some crazy dream
And I know my eyes were closed
But this dream feels more real to me
Than life itself.

My ear is pressed upon this wall,
For behind it is that place.
The door is locked...

I'll do whatever it takes
(you have to) Trust me, I know where I'm going.
Will you follow me?
Will you follow me, still?
In the moments that I feel
We're closer than ever before
The world drops out from under our feet.

But I believe the darkest of fights
Prove we're almost there.
There is always something there
to take our hearts like thieves
There is always something there
to take our hearts (But nothing matters.)

There is always something there to take
When we arrive
We will hear
Voices sing,
Nothing matters.
Nothing matters anymore.
Nothing matters anymore, anymore, anymore.

It's beginning to get dark.
But don't worry,
I know where we are,
I know where we are.
Will you follow me, still?

to keep your sanity, don't do these things.

1. start america day strong with a 3-mile run - topping your weekly miles off somewhere around 22.
2. proclaim to yourself, "wow, i am really getting back into running shape. this seems like the point when i typically get injured."
3. the next day after checking facebook one last time before church, hurry out of the home office without shoes on. and catch your toe on the baseboard. hear it pop.
4. go to church with the toe taped to the other one. cry at the sermon even when it isn't one that would usually invoke tears.
5. work from home monday so that you can go to physical therapy.
6. since you're home anyway, make an appointment with regular doctor to have your toe looked at.
7. find out you have a broken toe and a bladder infection.
8. go to the pharmacy for your Rx. without showering, putting on makeup or changing out of lounge clothes.
9. run into old coworker there.
10. flag him down even though he sorta doesn't recognize you with the no makeup, no work clothes thing going on.
11. try to explain why you are a loser in lounge clothes who hasn't showered on the middle of a monday morning when most people are at work.
12. drive to physical therapy.
13. drive through a stop sign without stopping (because you didn't see it.)
14. get pulled over.
15. realize you don't have a copy of your current insurance in your car.

and then, the next day, i broke my toe.

gross apostrophe misuse at your beer and wine headquarters.

thick.

this summer is full of
sticky heat and sweat
that
d
r
i
p
s
from my brow and my neck and the small of my back -
yes -
even there.
because it's been hot
so very, very hot
and humid
and at the end of the day, mostly miserable.
but then at night
there's this break, and for a moment
or an hour or two
and sometimes straight on through the dawn,
sitting outside is easy.