I Am Not a Morning Person // Up North Day 2

One of my favorite ways to spend time is to sit around with my friends, swapping stories about our most awkward moments and laughing until we cry.  I'm going to tell you that it's mostly good entertainment, but I think that deep down, on some weird psychological level, I need these conversations to assure me that I'm not alone.  That there are other people who are as awkward as me awkward, too.  So, because everyone likes to say the blogging is cheaper than real psychiatric help (it is), and I know a bargain when I see it,  I'm going to take this opportunity to get my latest awkward moment off my chest, for freeee! Please enjoy.

Let me just preface this story by reminding you of how awkward I can be.  I don't mind it that much, which is good because now that I think about it, That Awkward Moment could easily be a weekly segment for me from now until blogs become obsolete or I die.  Daily, maybe.  Like that time that I returned a sweatshirt to a boy I didn't like anymore while he was in conversation with a girl who actually did like him.  And also happened to be one of my best friends. Uhh.  And that time I got caught car dancing really impressively at the longest red light in the world. So. Cool.  Stay tuned, because there is so much more where that came from.

I spent my Labor Day weekend with eleven people in a cottage with one bathroom.  Ya heard me! One. In other words,  we all spent a considerable amount of time trying to control our bladders while waiting for someone else to get out of the shower or do their hair or back up and plunge the toilet not like I did that, ew. We all learned to brush our teeth using any source of moving water available. The bathroom trash can filled up really fast.  And whenever you were in there with all of your clothes on, you could pretty much count on someone else showing up to pluck an eyebrow or wash fish guts off of their hands or something.  It was a growing experience.

The first few underbathroomed hours were smooth sailing.  I didn't get walked in on or walk in on anyone or anything.  And then it happened.  Elise and I were innocently starting out what was soon to be a long lasting Donkey Kong addiction when one of the house owners showed up AT HIS OWN HOUSE. The NERVE!  Normally I wouldn't take issue with someone showing up at their place of residence, but this particular person happens to be pretty attractive.  As in, he was a senior when I was a freshman and he was my senior crush - that was the extent of our relationship. Normally, I wouldn't take issue with sharing a house with an attractive boy, but unfortunately attractive boys tend to bring out my awkward like freckles in the sun.  Really huge, noticeable freckles. And not the cute kind.

It happened on Saturday morning.  At around nine, the sun started shining in my eyes really brightly and the birds were yelling at me to get up, so up I got.  I managed to roll out of my cot, grab my toothbrush, unzip the tent, and emerge from it without clotheslining myself on one of the ropes anchoring it to the ground, all with my eyes still mostly closed.  I stumbled over and under the three other anchor ropes like some kind of sleepy ninja and dragged my feet through the wet lawn, up a wooden step, and onto the deck, where I took a moment to assess my next action and force my eyelids up a little higher.  Right, the door.  Open the door.  I opened the creaky screen door and the considerably less creaky, but harder to open, wood one.  Through the open door, I could see that the bathroom was, miraculously, unoccupied, so I made a beeline for it with the kind of focus only observed in those who aren't fully conscious.

Once inside, I handled the toothpaste bottle with dexterity.  (See also: dropping it four or five times before succeeding to land some Crest on my toothbrush.)  I glanced in the mirror and was surprised by two things:  my ratchet very beautiful morning hair and face and the reflection of Senor Crush standing behind me.  No, I wasn't dreaming.  I think.  My first reaction was blind panic, closely followed by "Oh, I guess he thinks now would be a good time to confess his undying love to me."  So, with that in mind, I decided that it would be best to start brushing my teeth until he had worked up the courage to voice his feelings.  He was apparently really nervous, because he came into the bathroom, standing next to me, still without saying a word.  I patiently waited.  He could take his time. And then, just as I was leaning over the sink to spit out my toothpaste, he made his move.  He reached right across the sink to where his own toothbrush was, narrowly avoiding a mouthful of morning-breath tinged water, saliva, and Crest.  Well, that was unexpected. Our conversation went something like this.

Me: Oh.

Him. Uh.

Me: Um.

Him: Sorry.

Me: Yeah.

I was a little embarrassed, but I assumed he was done there, and my teeth weren't clean yet.  So I kept brushing, monopolizing the sink because HE HAD OBVIOUSLY SEEN THAT ANY ATTEMPTS AT GRABBING HIS TOOTHBRUSH RIGHT NOW WERE FUTILE and also I was still mostly asleep and didn't really understand what he was trying to do.  Except he still wasn't leaving, so my hope that he had something really important to tell me was renewed.  This continued, with him collecting his thoughts and me brushing, for a good thirty to forty-five seconds.  Finally, he broke the silence. "Can I just grab my toothpaste really quick?" No confession of love.

It looked like unexpected plot twists were going to be the theme of the day.

I woke up a little bit at that point  And then I realized that, in spite of my attempts, the awkward bathroom encounter had happened.  (We'll save the story of how I single handedly backed up - and fixed. AND FIXED, mind you, the toilet for another time.)  Also, the shocking reality that Senor Crush was not, in fact, in love with me, came crashing down on my head.  It was a rough way to wake up.  Please do not think any less of me based on the actions of my barely - awake self. Thanks.

Awkwardly yours,

Allie

Justin Timberlake Talks Gossip // The Jesus-y Project

Hey, guys!  So, it's Humpday Eve, and you know what that means.  It means that it's the first day that you all get to see a project I've been working on with Itunu from Beyoutiful Beauties!  For the next few Tuesdays (amount of Tuesdays TBD),  we're going to bring you a series of posts on how to serve God in different areas of your life. Woah, woah.  That totally sounded like we know what we're doing, and we admittedly don't.  However, we're going to read our Bibles and do our best and share with you how we try (and sometimes fail) to live in a way that Jesus would like.

Today's topic is God in Friendships. It's cool how God works - this topic is pretty close to both Itunu and I right now, so we felt like it was the perfect thing to post about this week.  On my end, I'm currently trying to change the way I communicate with and about my friends.  As in, I'm trying not to gossip at all during the month of September.  My friend Allison wrote a great post about it here. 

Today's September 7th (hooray for writing posts ahead of time!), which means that I've been trying not to gossip for a week.  You guys, it is so, so hard.  Gossiping feels good.  It's such a guilty pleasure thing for that reason - it's easy to do, and for whatever reason, brings instant gratification.  It's universal, too.  Almost everyone you meet will be willing to engage in gossip with you, and so we often use it to relate to each other.  (Isn't that so wrong? Talking badly about one person to become closer to another?)  Despite how low-down and dirty it is, you'll most likely be hard pressed to find someone who will ridicule you for gossiping. All this I've learned in my last week of attempted not gossip, and it left me with a question.  If gossip is easy, safe, and feels good, how in the world am I supposed to stop? 

My mom's a really good advice-giver, and something that she's really stressed to me through years of struggles in various areas is that truth will always improve a situation.  "Just speak truth," she says.  I think she's right.  The Bible compares truth to light, exposing evil deeds.  (John 3:21)  Let's see if we can't shed some light on gossip, then, and expose how ugly it is.  Ready? 

Truth:  Gossip hurts friendships, whether your friend knows that you're gossiping about them or not. 

Strange, isn't it?  I used to think that gossip only had consequences only if my friend found out what I'd said.  So not true.  Who here can identify with the feelings of resentment that are stirred up every time you repeat derogatory words about your friend?  Even if she never knows, you've driven a wedge between the two of you just by dwelling on whatever you have against her.  In addition,  gossip hurts your relationship with the person you're gossiping to.  I don't know about you, but I'm not about to have a heart-to-heart with the girl who just told me her friend's dirty little secret, you know?  Trust is a hard thing to build, and words of gossip will pound against it until it crumbles. 

Truth: Gossip is lazy.

It's true.  Gossip is the verbal equivalent of choosing potato chips over veggies or reading a trashy romance novel instead of a classic or running two miles instead of five.  It's what we do when we don't care enough to try.  Talking about someone else's decisions doesn't require original thought or even the effort of acquiring solid information.  As long as it's interesting, it's fine.  It's the lowest-quality form of relating to the people around us.  

Truth:  Gossip isn't usually true.  

As Justin Timberlake alledgedly said, "Gossip is called gossip because it's not always to truth." Is he right, or is he right?  How many times have you and your friends speculated about a a story until it became an event made of one hundred per cent speculations, zero per cent fact?  I know I'm guilty of this one.  We don't have anyone checking to make sure our sources are reliable, and so we invent away until we get the story how we like it.  At this point, we're not just sharing our friends' secrets - we're lying about them. 

Truth: Gossip is incredibly selfish. 

Obviously.  Gossip never, ever helps anyone.  I use gossip to fill awkward silences, to entertain myself, to attempt to gain some self-esteem.  I never gossip with someone else's best interests at hear - it's impossible!  And because it's selfish, gossip contradicts with what's at the very core of true, Godly friendship:  love for the other person.  Our goals where our friends are concerned should be to build them up.  To enrich them.  To make them feel good about themselves.  To keep their good reputation standing.  You and I cannot gossip and have healthy friendships.  It's not possible. 

As I'm writing this, I think that the best way to break my gossipy habits might be to do the opposite of gossiping.  Say quality, truthful words.  Constantly work to build my friends up.  Seek to say everything that is true and nothing that is not.  If I'm living that way, there'll be no room left for gossip!  A logical impossibility.  

If you're reading this, (and I assume that you are),  I challenge you to do the same thing.  Be Godly in your relationships by refusing to gossip.  A world where no one says a word behind their friend's back - doesn't that sound great?//

Hop over to Itunu's blog to check out her post about withstanding peer pressure in friendships!  Next week, we'll be talking about how the entertainment we surround ourselves with fits into a Godly lifestyle.  It's going to be a good one!

Truthfully yours, 

Allie

I Almost Died // Up North Day 1

Hey, everyone!  I hope you all ate a bunch of hot dogs and s'mores and sat around doing nothing and just generally had a great long weekend!

I got to spend mine up north* with a friend (remember Elise from here? Yeah, her.) and her family - so. much. relax.  Every Labor Day weekend a crowd of friends, family, and tag-a-longs like me make their way up to the cottage we stayed at, which belongs to a family that Elise has known forever and ever, amen. To help with crowd control in the cottage, we were volunteered to sleep in a tent right outside, which worked our really well because we had the comfiest sleeping bags ever invented   The cottage is right on one of Michigan's 34987 inland lakes and a 7.5 minute drive from Lake Michigan, there's a dock with several boats for cruising, tubing, and making trips to the nearby sand dunes, the hosts are phenomenal chefs and human beings in general, the weather was on point.  I was satisfied.

                     *Us Michiganders use the term "Up North" to describe any place that isn't in a city,                            regardless of whether it's actually north or not.  Camping, being near a lake, hiking?                            Mandatory.  Actually going north to reach said camping / laking / hiking location?                                Optional. 

Our first day's adventure began with getting the tent up, a task which my friend and I were able to handle all by ourselves, no big deal.  There's no photographic evidence, but we definitely set up that tent and did a darn good job, if I do say so myself. I mean, it didn't fall down or anything and no rain got in, so I'd say that's a W in the books.

That being done, we were rewarded for our hard work with a boat ride around the lake and a stop at Barnhardt's, where you can park your boat and walk in, barefoot, for some of the best wings I've had in my seventeen years.

When we had eaten as much as was humanly possible, our boat headed for the dunes, where our captain laid anchor and ordered us out into the cold water.  We weren't too sure about it at first ...

But soon enough we were in and heading for land as quickly as possible! 

Not that life actually got any easier once we were out of the water.   We headed across the first dunes, and I realized that walking in sand is really hard.  Like, my calves were on fire and I was having trouble getting words out. Don't get me wrong; I'm definitely not complaining, because those dunes were amazingly gorgeous and I immediately became obsessed with them.  Dune puns ensued. 

"Looks like a good day for boating. DUNE it?" 

That's all.  I'm not that punny. 

Once we'd reached our destination (AKA the world's highest, longest, steepest sand dune EVER),  we took a minute to check out the view and try to persuade our bodies not to go into cardiac arrest. 

The native inhabitants of the dunes apparently had other plans, which were made apparent when a giant flying, buzzing, and fatally poisonous thing started chasing me around.  And around. And around.  My running speed and makeshift stick sword had nothing on that beast, and I was terrified.  I screamed and ducked and did everything I could do get it to leave while my friend sat in the sand and laughed.  Until it landed on her.  

Eventually, what we later classified as a horsefly decided to mind its own business again and trucked down the dunes and back to the boat for a choppy ride home, where a bonfire, peanut butter s'mores, and retro Donkey Kong awaited.  More on that tomorrow, though! 

Allie

P.S.  What did you do this weekend?  Any exciting near death experiences?