create your own personalized map of the USA
or write about it on the open travel guide
(If the image isn’t showing up – sorry. I don’t know what the deal is. But you should know that I have been in five of those states today – VA, WV, TN, GA and AL. What a day!)
I have a great imagination. Often, it gets the best of me. I like to imagine myself into these alternate realities. They’re not entirely unlike my life, but they are generally a bit more than what I am.
My latest daydreams feature me as a twentysomething journalist. (See? I told you they’re not that unrealistic!) I travel the city in search of the next story for Birmingham magazine. I spend weekends roaming my Southside neighborhood, mingling with the neighbors and people-watching in Five Points. My designer glasses lend an air of cool to my practical approach to life.
Or sometimes I’ll change up more than my job status (I’m really an intern), neighborhood (I’m 20 minutes away) and glasses (mine are from Wal-mart – but I like ’em anyway!). Sunday I decided that the world’s best job would be to select the music for Starbucks’ mixed CDs. Have you ever noticed how good the music in there is? It makes my little heart happy.
What if I traveled abroad for a year, evangelizing and writing about my experiences? Stick this little southern gal in country far from her own and see what happens. It could be an interesting experiment, don’t you think?
Truth is, I rather like my reality. My home may not be my own and my job may be unpaid (and part time), but I still think I’m living the high life. So what if I have to drive 20 minutes to church? Life goes on, and in this life, that’s a dang good place to be.
So I’m a little behind on the church search updates. Gimme a few days and I’ll get back to you.
Aren’t memories the funniest things?
You might be going through the mundane motions of life – folding laundry, for example – when something unexpected triggers a memory. Just like that, you find yourself reflecting on days gone by.
Most recently, it was a pair of gray men’s sweatpants that left me reeling. My laundry was spread across the floor of my den, sorted into piles according to final destination. As I was folding a stack headed for the closet, I lifted said sweatpants from the floor.
Can you be nostalgic for a time only months ago?
It hasn’t been long since the women of OSP challenged the men of OSP in a “Battle of the Sexes.” One particular Monday night, representatives from each team took the stage in a dance competition. Despite the trash the men talked, the women danced away with a victory.
The pants quickly became my favorite “bumming around” attire for the remainder of the summer. Silly as it may be, they now bring back memories as warm and fuzzy as the pants themselves.
Love ya, OSP!
It’s Saturday. I’ve finished unpacking and moving in. The trunk of my car is filled with yard sale goods (and by “filled,” I mean, “imagine sitting on your suitcase to zip it up and you’ll have a picture of me closing my overstuffed trunk”). Random strangers have been discarded so picture frames may be filled with images of friends. What’s left to do?
VH1 always has an answer, and today it’s one of my favorites – I love the 80s!
1988 – weren’t those the days? I pretended to hate Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (because it was a boys’ show!), but was secretly glad my sister watched it. At my seventh birthday party, my friends and I filmed our own video for “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.” California Raisins introduced me to a number of Motown hits. Isn’t that what every 7-year-old girl needs?
Praise the Lord that I was a child, not a teen, in the decade of excess. Heaven forbid I look back and agree with the “Hunks of 1988” list. Donald Trump? Dan Quayle? Are you kidding me?!
VH1 has already cashed in with I Love the 70s (boring to many who weren’t born yet – as was I Love 1980) and I Love the 90s (which I haven’t seen yet – but count me in! Let’s relive those years of teenage angst). What will they dream up for 2004?
I like to think current fashion and music are timeless. Surely I won’t look back at my pretty pink skirt and argyle sweater and ask, “What was I thinking?!” But did women in the 80s think we’d be mocking their shoulder pads 16 years later? I’m already wondering why I have so many float-y, hippie blouses (circa 2002).
Maybe I’m dating myself here, but weren’t our toys so much cooler? I have a Care Bear in my bedroom right now! What B-list celebrities will offer commentary? Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey might have a future in entertainment, after all. 😉
“Did you notice more people eating raisins after the California Raisins came out? I didn’t. I mean, I was eating a lot of raisins to begin with, but that’s because I needed the fiber. I desperately needed the fiber.” –Michael Ian Black
(And don’t get me started on 1989. That’s quite possibly the best pop-culture year yet.)
Today I went shoe shopping.
Whoa now, don’t turn away from me just yet! There’s greater truth to be told here – or at least, my former roommate thinks so.
I’m in dire need of a pair of sassy brown high heels, and work starts next week. With my personal shoe specialist at my side, I hit the streets in search of the perfect chocolate-colored complement to my wardrobe.
We spotted a pointy little number with a kitten heel that slipped onto my foot nicely. It looked stylish with my jeans, and promised to be just as flattering with dressier attire. So I did what comes naturally – I replaced the shoe in its box and walked away.
When I recounted this tale hours later, Alisa accused me of having commitment issues. She mentioned that yesterday in relation to boys, and she decided that my shoe shopping episode was the perfect analogy.
Perhaps it is, I agreed. But maybe not in quite the way she was thinking.
See, when I’m going to drop a significant amount of cash (or credit, as the case may be) on something, I give it time. I mull over the purchase for at least a few days. Buying a pair of shoes is a serious commitment, and in my opinion, not something to take lightly.
So are men. Okay, okay – I haven’t had to deal with any real commitment issues because I haven’t dated anyone for longer than three months. But Alisa will be the first to mock me for the length of time I take to admit interest in a guy. [Cue “Winter’s Ending”]
I’m a firm believer in giving appropriate weight to decisions I make. I’ll admit that dating a guy is a bit more serious than buying a shoe. 😉 But who cares if I give both careful consideration? With the time, money and potential for pain invested in each, I believe they’re worth the thought.
(Can I get an “amen”?)
To whom it may concern:
I like atheists. Thanks very much.
Seriously though, I seem to have a certain affinity for these godless types. I’m not talking in a romantic sense – that would be entirely too “Just Don’t Want Coffee.” But something about these people appeals to me.
Maybe it’s because the atheists with whom I interact are a bit brash and obnoxious – and I can be too. Their wit displays a certain amount of intellect. Conversation with these guys is both stimulating and challenging; many times they’re smarter than I am, and that forces me to know my junk. Now, this is true regardless of whether we’re debating theology or not. (In fact, we usually are not.)
The atheists I know are also passionate about their atheism. It is often evidenced in their conversation, their attitude, their actions. I find myself asking, is my Christianity so obvious in my life? Does my faith come as a surprise, or is assumed from my actions?
Let me be clear: this is not a “we’re so much better than them because what we’ve got is truth” kind of post. In fact, I hold the people I have in mind in high esteem. I count one of them among my favorite professors. He’s an insightful, hilarious man. I would venture that I’ve learned more in his class than any other in my graduate program. The other man at the forefront of my mind is my favorite author. His novels are some of the most brilliant examples of prose I’ve read, and I wish I could claim the book I’m now reading as my own. His characters are deep, and his observations on culture are dead on (and again, quite funny). Oh, and he’s British – I love reading those guys.
Yes, their views are diametric to my own. That does create a degree of tension, but I also accept it as a challenge. Christ’s love is the best thing in my life, and I do wish the same on everyone I meet. So I wonder, how can I show that love to these people who are so convinced that He does not exist? How can I show them His work in my life? Am I relevant to those outside of Christian culture?
I suppose it’s more than something that appeals to me about atheists – let’s try somethings.
The title’s the best, most skeptical song lyric I could think of at this hour. Gimme a break. I don’t think heaven’s overrated.
I’m adjusting to my “new life” in Birmingham rather easily. “Across town” no longer suggests a 10 minute drive; instead, such a journey could easily take half an hour and actually end in another nearby city. I take the interstate to get around, and rush hour is actually something to avoid.
Put simply, life here is different than in Tuscaloosa. As I crossed a busy street on UAB’s campus tonight, I realized my college life has reached its third phase.
Florida State was phase one. I had a fairly typical undergrad experience. FSU’s a big state school, complete with the party school ranking and big football wins. (Don’t those usually go hand in hand?) The city was a little more than your average college town because of its state capital status, but it was nothing too unusual. (Well, save for the ruckus from the 2000 presidential election. But y’know, there’s an exception to every rule.)
The next stage of my college career was the University of Alabama. I was surprised by how much this campus differed from FSU. These southern kids really threw me! (But more on that later…) Though I lived in the Tuscaloosa area for just over a year, I absorbed the atmosphere of a town that may not exist if not for its University. (Sure, it was once the state’s capital. That was a really long time ago…)
Though I’m an Alabama student for four months more, the backdrop of my academic life is now Birmingham. I realized several months ago how much I love city life. I now celebrate that life daily. It may sound strange, but I find it exhilarating to drive past the towering downtown structures. I decided today that I’d probably take up residence in Southside if I were to stay here long term.
I dropped by UAB’s campus library this evening. The battle to find a parking space was far greater than that behind Alabama’s library (whose name seems to have escaped me…). When I emerged, books in hand, I was greeted by a bustling city street. It’s just so… different. And I love it!
It’s official: no more Tuscaloosa for me. “City life” is where I’m at.
(Yeah, okay. Even if I live 20 minutes from downtown. Details!)
