Last of an Era

Tonight I finished a journal I started five years ago. There are two factors to this incredibly long journal life. 1) I have multiple journals stashed in various corners of my life and 2) I don't really like journaling.

I find that I am a poor recorder of events, not because of my memory, but more that I get bored as I write the story out. I am more of a scream and shout journaler. I'm more of a gusher. When things are overflowing then I need to write it out. Of course I don't record any of the context, but tonight I was reading the geysers of emotions and realized that I don't really need context to figure out what was happening. I remember most of it with clarity.

My emotions are like mile markers, I know where I am by how I feel. I know where I've been by my tone and voice.

At anyrate tonight ended a little book filled with a lot of me. Tomorrow, I imagine, will include a trip to Barnes and Noble for another little book.

Confessions

I have three confessions for the day

1) I am a pro-life liberal
2) I never and still don't like U2
3) I'm addicted to Dog: The Bounty Hunter

Little Changes

I was driving around tonight, just relaxing. I was thinking about prayers I had prayed over the last few years.

I've been praying that the Lord would change how my heart felt about people or situations. As I thought of all the times I've prayed variations of this prayer, and I am amazed at how the Lord has answered it.

There have been times when I loved people and asked the Lord to remove it and he has.

There have been times when I have distrusted people and asked the Lord to change it and he has.

There have been times when I disliked people and asked the Lord to change it and he really, really has; in such a way that I am moved to tears for them in prayer, when I see them I can barely keep it together, it is a totally supernatural thing. I can't change how I feel, I cannot move my own heart. But He is gracious to do it.

Make a hit list kids, make a list of feelings you want to change, cry out spontaneously whenever you feel it. Check up on it in a few months, and I'll bet you'll see movement.

For the Toddler in all of us.

This is part of the Christmas that came early, it's so cute. It just kills me.

Christmas Come Early

Ever had a day when all the good things you've been waiting for (and several things you didn't expect) arrive suddenly and all at once?

It's really a glorious feeling.

Things I received today:

1) numerous comments on my cute new sweater
2) huge new t-shirt display
3) onething clothing
4) onething nalgene sippie cups

It just makes a girl feel giddy.

This just in...

Two members of an un-named department were just seen running and vaulting themselves over the iron railing out front of the bookstore like it was a pommel horse. They proceeded to run over to the gas station like their pants were on fire.

Someone should tell them they aren't in Dukes of Hazard nor are they on US Women's Gymnastics team.

Dolls, aren't we dolls?

This is one of those late night ponderings when friends are just talking and you all realize something about yourselves which may or may not make much sense the next morning. Somehow we began a conversation in which we were all characterized by dolls


This is my friend my Katie P as a doll.. Chatty Kathy


This is dearest Amanda as a doll... Holly Hobbie


Rachel and I are of course... da Bratz



That's right we are dolls!!!!

Genius, Pure Genius

Dennis and the crew at Higher Grounds have yet another winner on their hands.



I just ate the most amazing baked potato. It was the size of my face. It had chili and sour cream and cheese and chives, and it was the size of my face. I don't know if they imported these potatoes from Fiji or what.

Everyone has to try it. It's filling, it's fun, and it's the size of your face.

Baby Boys

Clyde is on the left and Buck is on the right

This is why I dislike dogs

Check out Char and Jesse's Blog

Trifecta of Cuteness (minus one not so cute thing)

My parents bought two beautiful Siamese kittens last Saturday. They are soooo cute. The cat pictured above isn't one of them, but they look just like him. These two new additions join my parents cat Bonnie (a 4 year old tabby they rescued). Bonnie is a mean cat. She hates people and being touched/held/played with.

When my parents go out of town, I'll go over to the house to feed Bonnie and she hisses at me the whole time, literally from the moment I open the door she'll stand up on two feet to be pet once, but any attempt to pet after that first pet; she hisses. I lay down her food bowl and she hisses at me before taking the first bite.

So now Bonnie has two kittens to hiss at, which actually seems to make her hatred of me more intense. Now she just looks at me and hisses, no contact necessary. I'm sure she thinks I'm behind the kitten plot.

The new kittens names are Clyde and Buck, which makes the three of them historically accurate gangsters.

I (heart) British Hamsters

I would just like to say a big thank you to the British Hamster colonies who saved my butt today.

Normally it's the hamsters who fall off their little wheels and trip up the other little hamsters and make my life miserable. But last week I tripped and landed on their hamster cage and managed to obliterate a little hamster civilization and make the lives of many people miserable (including hamster master and trainer; Sir Steve).

So here's to all the little hamster lives I've threatened. In my greatest hour of need they reboarded their little wheels and chugged on.

God bless them, everyone.

Ode to the Pork Baby

To the only friend who loved trivial pursuit as much as I did, to the one of the few who loved Arrested Development, to the only guy who could wear a mullet wig with a high sense of fashion, to a guy who loved listening to Counting Crows greatest hits and remembering where we where when each song came out, to a guy who loved true American muscle cars, to a guy who loved Jesus well and pointed all those around him to a Healer, to a guy who was confident in God's love, to a guy who was the first baby born in October hence "the Pork Baby of Kansas".

Love you Luke, give the Man a high five for me. We'll see you soon.

uggg

yep, that's all, uggg, that's as articulate as I can be, uggggg.

Didn't Leave a Mark

Today I can happily say I have no bruises on my face. I'm thinking this is some type of miracle.

Yesterday I was setting up for conference in the back office area dusting some bookshelves and a 8 foot 3inch wide aluminum pipe rolled off the top of the bookshelf and hit me in the face, right on the bridge of my nose. I heard one of my employees say "ooooo that didn't sound good."

Andrew saw it happen and immediately came to me and started to pray in tongues. Hartke got me Kleenex just in time as my nose began a lovely gush of blood. This is not, I'm sorry to say, the first time these two boys have seen me cry. I'm sure they still remember the disaster at inventory, which started more like laughter and then turned to sobbing. Very scary, especially for guys.

I'd also like to say that this is not the first time I've been hit in the face at the bookstore. Once when I was cashier and stooped down to get something, when I stood up I smashed my temple into the corner of the cash drawer. Saw stars, but had to act like nothing had happened for the customer's sake. I cried later in the bathroom.

Once while helping a customer, a DVD somehow flew out of his hand and hit me smack in the middle of my face. I was already pretty frustrated with the situation, and being hit in the face definitely kicked it up a level, in fact I actually just walked away from the customer to compose myself, all the while Kirk was snickering behind the counter thinking I'm sure, "Kristen is gonna kill this guy."

All that to say, my face is a little sore this morning, I'm just glad I don't have two black eyes. That could have made the women's conference a little more awkward for everyone.

I would also like to just point out for the record, that Pipe and Drape has been the bane of my bookstore existence for the last two years. There is always something annoying happening with it or to it. Finally, the pipes, being so against me have decided to launch a physical assault against my face.

Here's to the conference, may it be more enjoyable then a pipe hitting you in the face.

It's the Little Things

I'm coming to realize how much the little things in my life keep me sane. I shall list these little things so some level of sanity might be found by those who seek it.

1)Sunroof - driving down farm roads in the middle of the night with your sunroof open, looking up to see brightly lit sky - amazing

2)Wake Up calls - every morning my siamese cat (or beast) crawls onto my bed, stalks my face and shoves his nose against mine, while purring like a freight train. He falls asleep with his head under my chin

3)Vitamin B Complex - keeps my nerves connected

4)Vanilla Almond Tea a Lait - knowing that as I open the coffee shop door and nod to the barrista my drink is being made

5)A good pair of jeans

6)my iPod - playing the following lately: Continuum, John Mayer; Stand Still Look Pretty, The Wreakers; Everything in Transit, Jack's Mannaquin; Eyes Open, Snow Patrol; Inside the Sounds of Breaking Down, John Mark McMillan...

7)Mucinex D - the wonder drug

8)My assistant - she bought me flowers this week, oh how I love her

9)My ESV wide margin Bible - making reading so much more interactive

10)Vitamin Water - yum

I hit a bunny...

and I laughed out loud to myself. I'd like to say that my responses to killing little furry and innocent animals are becoming concerning even to myself.

But this is a funny story so I must tell it.

I'm driving along on a dark and wet road when a bunny jumps right in front of my car. I think to myself he's small he'll squat and go right under my car and be unscathed. Then the bunny sees me and begins to panic. I think surely he will panic and move out of the way. Instead he jumps straight up into the air and flails his limbs all about. That's when I hit him, mid air, mid flail, right with my head light. And I just laughed. I laugh now even thinking about it, it is so ridiculous.

The ironic thing is that; I am this bunny. When I was little I hated the game of tag, I hated the game of dodgeball, and I hated those stupid camp mock war games. I hated the feeling of knowing I was caught and the panic of moment when you are about to be tagged/shot/tapped/tackled. I concluded the fastest way around this horror was to simply sit in one place unmoving/unplaying until I could be declared out.

At anyrate the bunny reminded me of that feeling of panic, when you could move out of the way, but instead you are so freaked out that you simply jump up, flail about and get smashed.

The other ironic thing is that today I was that bunny in a different way. I was in one of those surprise situations that reveals how you really feel, the real state of your heart. I jumped up in agitation, only to be smashed by the realization that I need to die/I'm not dead yet. Uggg. Oh, the awkward flailing of self realization, oh, the deafening thud of pride hitting a headlight.

I killed a bunny today, that bunny was me.

Maybe I should rename this blog; meditations on roadkill.

Quote of the Week

"I'd like to give him a spicy Jesus roll."

Stephen Baldwin about trying to evangelise Tom Cruise over a sushi lunch.

Wow.

Women with tools

It's the Sunday after conference, that should indicate a need for rest and relaxation, well it does indicate that, I just didn't fulfill that need. Instead I hoped over to my parents house to see how the home improvement projects are going.

It should be said that for most people this house would be move in ready. Not my parents, they are particular. I was talking to Mark about it on the phone and we both laughed and joked that they should have just called in a wreaking ball and started from scratch. My parents are very particular. They like the hardwood floors and certain types of tiles, and faucets and appliances and drains, and shower heads, and porches and well, houses.

So first home improvement project is removing laminate floors and installing hardwood floors, all by ourselves. Yum. Upon arriving and seeing the pace at which we were progressing, I felt the need to jump in. I announced I could saw. My father looked at me with high eyebrows, but humored me. So I became compound miter saw Kristen. I was fabulous. I had my own safety glasses and everything. As things progressed I measured and sawed. My mother picked out and quality checked each board, and my father hammered them in with an "oversized stapler" and sledge hammer.

My father took us out for steak and key lime pie as thanks for our help.

We got about half way done, and dear old Dad will have to sand them, stain them, and seal them. My parents are crazy and they are getting too old for this back breaking labor.

I plan on steering clear of the house the next few days, or my Dad might hand me the floor sander, and all of our hard work would be for naught.

7 Years and counting...

IHOP is working on their 7 year anniversary (and a feast to end all feasts). I'm really excited to be here during this time. There is a certain amount of joy I feel about being involved with this place. It's home to me.

I was talking today to some of my staff, a lot of them are new because we've transitioned a lot of people in the last year, and I really felt at home with them, I enjoy them and I enjoy getting to know them. When I first started this job I hired and worked with people I already knew, I can't really do that anymore, so it's given me the opportunity to stretch out and get to know a lot more people.

So here's to all the people who help me keep going, who bless this base in more ways then will ever be known: Alicia, Stacey, Matt H, Dale, Char, Jesse, Matthias, Katie, Amanda, Rachel, Robert, Linda, Mandy, Vernon (and team), John, Becca, Vicki, Lauren.

You guys are all in my heart and I thank God when I see and remember you.