CSI: Dallas and the Weirdest Morning Ever

I left my hotel room at 3:55am this morning only to find a bunch of cops when I entered the hallway. They were gathered outside a room only 4 doors down from mine. A few were huddled in the actual hallway with others entering and exiting the room. There was a dress shirt laying on the floor in the hallway (I don't know what that has to do with anything, but it was certainly out of place). I stared straight ahead as I walked because I felt like if I glanced inside the cracked door I was going to see something I didn't want to see. At the end of the hallway another officer was interviewing a frazzled looking lady. As I waited for the elevator I noticed an empty beer bottle sitting on the table in the elevator lobby. Maybe irrelevant but just another thing out of place. The Marriott we stayed in was more of a conference center with multiple parties and events happening for the Valentine's Day weekend.

I asked my shuttle-mates in the lobby if they knew what was going on and one guy pointed outside to the multiple police cars. He also said he saw a CSI van. He said he thought that was only a show and didn't know CSI actually existed. It does and it was happening four doors down from me while I slept. So weird. As our shuttle pulled out of the hotel and passed a club that was bumping only a few short hours before that we noticed as walking back to the hotel, we saw another officer and a lady standing out front. Who knows what could have happened? I'm not sure I want to know, but I can't stop theorizing. Domestic dispute? Prostitute with foul play? Murder?

Maybe it's just because it was four in the morning and I wasn't fully awake, but the rest of the morning's events in Dallas were very bizarre. The shuttle dropped us all at terminal E and left it up to us to get to our particular terminal and gate. The link system didn't open till 5:30, so I waited inside messing around on my computer. Two employees parked themselves a few feet away and began arguing. The man was yelling at the woman about calling his wife. My imagination and half-asleep-ness started going crazy and developing storylines about how they were having an airport affair and he was worried about getting caught. (This could actually have been the case, but let's give them the benefit of the doubt.) He tried to fire her next to baggage claim and she emotionally pleaded for a second chance. It all happened right there in front of all of us. Weird again.

Once seated outside my gate I encountered two irritating travelers. This was after everyone going through security was herded and berated loudly by two airline employees. "Sir, you're gonna have to check that bag. It'll never fit." It would have been fine by the way. "Folks, I need a line not this mass of people. Straighten out. Curve this way. Don't block the stairs. Folks, folks." "Mam, will that computer fit in your purse? You have too many items." It was too early. Everyone instantly became extremely annoying to me. So back to the gate...I hear a 'click, click, click' only to find a woman clipping her fingernails and letting them fall to the ground without any sort of regard for hygiene or politeness to others. Gross and weird. Not 5 minutes later and I hear another bizarre sound, "And now that you're gone, I just wanna be with you. And I can't go on, I just wanna be with you." I glance to my left to see that the unopened Chili's is cranking Enrique Inglesias at 6am. Seriously? While glancing I make eye contact with a gentleman who proceeds to stare in my direction for the next 20 minutes while I wait at my gate. Every time I glance up to see if he is indeed looking at me (you know when you can feel someone staring at you?), I realize that he is indeed looking directly at me. Creepy and weird.

This about wraps up the bizarre events of this morning. The weirdness of Dallas had already begun a few days prior during the unusual snow storm. If you haven't heard, yesterday the US received snow in 49 states with Hawaii being the only untouched state. Dallas received record breaking snowfall not seen since the early 70's. The Kansas City and Minneapolis gang of staff found the freak out hilarious as the snowfall was par for the course for us mid-westerners and nothing compared to the blizzard that hit the east coast, particularly DC. One of the reporters was seen on her remote report wearing heeled snow boots. They were padded nylon with rubber soles just like any traditional snow boots, but hers included a 4 inch stacked rubber heel. Hilarious because of their total lack of function. Texas snow boots if I've ever seen any. Coldstone Creamery was closed due to the inclimate weather. C'mon even in snow people need their ice cream. Step it up Coldstone.

I'm glad to be home, but I will remember this morning for a long time to come. Total Weirdness.

The Boys Club

Today's post I wish I could just copy and paste, but no I will create something new.

My training in Dallas in complete and in a few short hours I will hop on my 4am shuttle to the airport and head home. It's been a really great time getting to sit under some incredible teachers and hang out with YL friends from around the country (especially the great staff from the fine state of Minnesota). It was an interesting week though for a number of reasons. For example for the past 3 days I have experienced what it is to be a minority. As the conference began I looked around the room and had a hard time spotting many other females. I just talked to my roommate to compare stats and we think there were a total of 400 attendees and only about 25 of those were women. I happened to be sitting next to my friend Lamar, who is black, during the first session and said, "You don't realize what it's like to be the minority until you are the minority. This must be how you feel all the time!" He agreed. It was weird. I got used to it, but still longed for more women to sit with, laugh with, and just feel comfortable to be female. Young Life is a great organization and a mission that I believe in and feel intense loyalty to, so these comments are not a knock on them. But just like most ministry, its leadership is dominated by men. Just a fact, good or bad, it's just the reality. I sat in class and stared at the backs of the heads of men...all men. Young Life paid staff is a boys club.

I don't think it makes it hard to stay in Young Life knowing that it is dominated by men, in fact it makes it harder to leave! The female models we have in senior leadership and veteran leadership positions are incredible women. They are some of the most encouraging, strong, and cool ladies I've ever had the chance to be around. I want to be like them. I want to be to younger girls what they have been to me. But I feel bad even considering leaving Young Life because that's one less of us. I feel like I'd be letting other women down. I know that's not true, but us "survivors" feel really compelled to stick around just to prove that we can and that there is a place for women in YL leadership. (The number of women who begin on YL staff is fairly close to the number of men, but since they leave staff sooner than men there's a massive drop off in the number of women in long term leadership positions.) I don't want to stay on staff just to be an example to others if I'm not called to it for the long term. God's not asking me to stay just purely as an example. There will be a day I will leave and I need to come to reconcile with the guilt I anticipate from this decision. It's hard being a girl in the boys club.

I Know You Don't Like Me

The imperfection of this blog is really starting to bug me. This is good. I felt pretty good about January's posts; I still had lots of new ideas to write about and things to share. I felt proud of what I was putting out there. But the whole point of this project is to force myself to create and expose myself even when I don't have something clever or poignant to share. Experience above the posts themselves is my priority. The second month is when a project like this really starts to accomplish what I intended. Here I am beginning a post without a planned topic or idea. I'm posting past my deadline for the day (for the second night in a row). What's really funny about this is that my first instinct is to lie since the blogger time is messed up or make a joke as I do many times to cover my errors like telling myself, "I'll be clever and tell everyone that I'm just pretending that since I'm out of town that I'll pretend I thought it was a different time zone just to make myself feel better." No, instead of lying or being clever with myself, I'll just accept that I didn't post today on time. I'm still doing it so why does it matter if it's late? And what would it matter if I just didn't do it at all? I'm imperfect and it's not the end of the world. So hello February. You are already full of tardiness, rambling posts, no cute and fun pictures, and plenty of misspellings (as I like to make up versions of real words that I didn't know weren't actually words until blogger highlighted them as misspellings). I think you and me are going to get along just fine.

In the spirit of messiness, I would like to continue writing tonight though the topic has nothing to do with the comments above. I just want to get it off my chest as it was brought up during a two hour conversation I just had with an old friend and don't feel like saving it for tomorrow's entry.

I have someone in my life who really doesn't like me. (I am sure there are multiple people who dislike me, but let's focus on just one tonight.) From here on instead of using correct grammar indicating the singular he or she, I'm going to use 'they' for the sake of keeping it gender neutral. This way if you are reading this and you think it might be you I'm talking about, I can leave it open to male or female readers. Ha! Wondering if it's you are you? Anyway...our relationship is not optional and I actually care for this person. I'm not saying I've never felt really angry or bitter towards said nemesis, but at the end of the day I really do like them. (That grammar is offensive even to me, but I must continue.) We play this passive aggressive game of talking politely to one another face to face while bad mouthing and name calling behind backs. I really just want to say, "Look, let's cut the crap. You don't like me. You know it. I know it. So let's stop pretending. Let's just get it out there. Some days you even hate me. It's okay. I'll survive. It's not the end of the world. You know what? There are days where I don't care for you either. It's probably only because I'm sad you don't like me though." How good would that feel to just give someone permission to dislike me out in the open. I can imagine the freedom we would have in conversations and problem solving in tasks we share. When the elephant in the room is acknowledged, it loses all its power. When the cat's out of the bag, there's no more unspoken tension. It's just reality, fact. You don't like me, that's fine, now let's work on this shared task we have.

Again I'm not going to pretend that someone disliking me hasn't hurt me. I want to be well-liked as do most people, and probably to an unhealthy degree at times. I've been really wounded by the mean things said about me, merited and unmerited. But I'm okay with it now. I have a clear conscious, so I don't feel responsible for their dislike anymore. I can't please everyone and my decisions have made me unpopular with this person. Oh well you can't win 'em all. I don't mean to sound harsh, flippant, or unscathed by this because trust me I have cried over the lack of approval from this person. It's not that I don't care. I've just moved on. So let's do it. Let's cut the crap. Just say it. You don't like me. There doesn't that feel better? Maybe you're getting to the point where now that your anger has been released into the open, you're thinking, "Wait, maybe I actually do like her." No. Still hate me. Okay.

I just realized I wrote a letter to this person, in public, on a blog. Oh God I am just like the girl who I posted about last month who wrote a letter to her mom on her site. I don't want to be one of those people. Ugh. Just like how I wished that girl would tell her mom everything she posted for the public to see, maybe I need to confront this person and tell them exactly what I've written for anyone else but them to see. I'm a wimp. But man how about some public venting. This is exactly the kind of thing I never wanted to post. I'll break that rule tonight I guess. Don't judge me. One person disliking me is enough.

A Midnight Blessing

I'm past my deadline tonight, but wanted to post something, anything as I promised myself no matter how imperfect. I'm even posting from my tiny browser on my phone because the internet signal in my hotel room is not working on my laptop. So my offering tonight to this blog project is a comment on blessing others. The training I'm at this week puts me in front of some folks who I would describe as giants in the faith. As I get older I appreciate my elders more and more. As I've been humbled in my twenties, I have moved out of the 19 year-old I-know-more-than-the-old-folks-my-generation-is-gonna-change-the-world phase into the help-me-I'm-clueless phase. I got to hear a giant named Les speak this morning about the power of blessing others with our words and prayers for them. Speaking God's heart and even His very words over someone has transformative power. They are not just empty phrases and well wishes.

Another giant of the faith who was in our teaching this morning shared a beautiful story about a father he knew who would speak a small (but powerful mind you) blessing over his sons each morning before school. One morning the dad had left for his morning jog before getting a chance to send his sons off for the day. The dad found silly polyester pants to be more comfortable to jog in despite their awkward, non-athletic appearance. That morning he ran to his sons' bus stop in order to catch them in time to bless them. The sons, seeing their father approaching in his creative get up, hoped the bus would arrive before their father for fear of utter embarrassment. No such luck for them. Blessing completed, then the bus arrived. Years later when both sons happened to be attending the same college, they called their dad one afternoon asking if he could come visit. They had 50 male friends lined up and waiting in their dorm for him to come speak a blessing over each one of them because they had never had someone do that for them. The sons may have been embarrassed that morning at the bus stop, but they wanted to share their father and the gift of a blessing that he had given them so many times over.

I am called to receive God's blessing for me, his love, grace, acceptance, and then from the overflow of that, share what I have received with others. It is a beautiful and wonderful experience to grab a friend or a YL kid and speak power and blessing over them. If only I were brave enough to be more vulnerable and do this more often. To anyone reading, thank you for encouraging me in the midst of a very real struggle and transforming year. May God grant you compassion as you have bestowed it upon me. May God grant you friendship, encouragement, and support as you have given these to me. May God grant you love and acceptance as you have listened and taken me in. For all that I've experienced through each of you, may you receive it back from those in your life ten-fold. May God bless you and keep you. You are loved.

LOST: the Real Life Edition

I flew to Dallas today and experienced something I do each time I fly since becoming a LOST fan. I didn't realize I was doing it until about the third time it happened, but while getting settled in my seat I will scope out the rest of the passengers and determine if those on the flight would make a for a good cast on LOST. If we were to crash on a mysterious island, would this group of people make for good TV? Qualifications: Are there enough exceptionally good looking people? Are the passengers diverse enough in race, gender, age, and background? Are there a handful of folks who would fit nicely into the predetermined stereotypes like doctor, con-artist, fat funny guy, married couple, etc.? Of course a portion of those on the flight would be "eliminated" before even landing/crashing on the island, so is the flight full enough to spare a few unfortunate souls?

I had never been on a flight where I felt like our crew would make a good cast...until coming home from Boston last month. We were flying from Boston to Denver before catching our connecting flight back to Kansas City. The plane was continuing on to Spokane, Washington, so between the Bostonians, Denverites, and Spokanians, there were a lot of young, good looking, skier-snowboarder, outdoorsy, hip flyers on our plane. I leaned over and confessed to Daniel for the first time my Lost test. Not only did I feel silly for divulging my thought process to someone, but I felt even worse confessing to my husband, who is afraid of flying, because this was the first flight ever that I felt could qualify as a worthy cast. Which meant we would crash. Bad news to him, good news for anyone like me hoping to survive and then engage in adventures on a crazy island (where you may also not survive).

It's funny how a TV show makes me not only not afraid of crashing, but also slightly excited by the thought. This is crazy. I am fully aware that islands like on Lost do not exist. I acknowledge that such thinking is delusional. Just remember I am a crazy person. I'm well aware.

PS- I'm also well aware that I would probably be one of the boring, unnamed people in the background who is always just building a hut or gathering coconuts. I'd want to be Claire though if I could choose...or Locke.

Panic Attacks are Hilarious

These past few weeks have been an especially difficult time. The result is what happened last night on my way from the grocery store of all places. By the time I got home even Daniel noticed something was very wrong. On my drive home I started feeling really overwhelmed by everything that is happening in my life, feeling short of breath, dizzy, lightheaded, nauseous, and feeling achy/tingling/numb/not sure how to describe it- in my arms and legs. Daniel told me to stop what I was doing, sit down, and drink some water. Eventually the physical symptoms passed and the overall dread lessened. I googled "panic attack" later that night to see if that gave any clues to what I experienced. Seeking medical advice from the internet...I know, really reliable. Though different sites have varying opinions, it sounds like it was an anxiety attack. (For anyone interested according to the internet, again take it or leave it, a panic attack seems to be triggered more randomly not necessarily founded in any specific fear whereas an anxiety attack is spurred from being overwhelmed by a specific or particular fear or stressor.)

Though not a particularly fun event, the internet research offered a bevy of amusing pictures. Who knew panic/anxiety attacks could be so hilarious? I found lots of great info on symptoms, triggers, and of course coping techniques. Please see the helpful visuals below from one of the sites I found.

Apparently I'm not the only one triggered inside grocery stores. Beware of the meat aisle. Cold cuts can be dangerous. Be wary of lions or lions painted on walls.

Visualization techniques can be helpful. But if you're going to go to your "happy place" and make that creepy face make sure it's in private.

Of course consult your counselor. The best therapists wear lab coats; that's how you know they're good. And don't forget to don your best sailor outfit for your visit.

Birthday Wishes of Fried Chicken and the King

Happy Birthday JVP! Huy planned a great night to celebrate Jess. To honor her love for fried chicken we started at Granny's Chicken Ranch. You can take the girl out of Jeff City, but you can't take the Jeff City out of the girl. Elvis was playing Granny's that night and helped us serenade Jessie in "Happy Birthday" not once but twice. After dinner we played at Dave and Buster's. Below are some pictures from the fun and games (and a shot with Elvis of course). I'm so grateful for new friends like Jessie.

The King

Jessie was pretty good at the boxing. At the end of your game the computer analyzes your boxing ability. She may have ranked low in aggressiveness, but she ranked high in cleverness.

Daniel enjoying the boxing as well.