—

If you didn’t know it, I have a thing for ketchup. It’s kind of gross actually…for most people. NOT ME though. I smother it. I smother it like it’s dripping out a gooey goodness as it falls to the plate for me to “redip” my hot dog into. And oh. Did I add that there needs to be the perfect mayo balance to make it extra good. Oh it is SO good. Toast that bun darling, it’s that much better. It warms the ketchup just enough. SIDE NOTE: my friend Jill doesn’t refrigerate ketchup. Quick poll–how many of my readers do? Here’s another poll– how many of my readers eat ketchup on your eggs? *raises hand… Of course that’s on the eggs that come out actually edible.

P.S. I’m back to failing. This photo was taken yesterday. Appropriately, my smarty pants cousin responds with this: “Sunny side up means you leave the yolk intact.” Really?! I had no idea….

Eggs USED to be my favorite breakfast. I’ve resorted to fruit… because there just ain’t no screwing that baby up. And cereal, which “lesbi-honest” *mmhmmm that one’s for you Pitch Perfect fans I have been known to screw up too. Damn this busy life.

BUSY- ashamedly I admit, I now have an app entitled Free Time. “What is this?!” you ask. Oh, okay darlings, let me tell you. It’s the next best saving grace that isn’t eternal (cue Jesus lover now.) Right. So I no longer use my iCal to schedule events and appointments. I now use Free Time. Sad- yeah. kinda. *I’ll come back to that too. Right now my fingers are moving too fast to stop… Is being busy a drug? Something to show us what we are capable of but giving us an excuse to fail while at the same time remaining numb. More thoughts from my man Donald’s blog here. Perfect timing, Yo! P.S. I’m pretty sure I’m addicted…

Oh yeah, breakfast! SO fruit. I love raspberries. Mom quit buying them though because she says they just sit there and I never eat them. So, today I went to Pinkberry. Guess what topping I picked…. *said in a sing-song voice. Darlings, you’re so smart! Apples though. Mom always gets apples. Not my favorite fruit, but most of the time- just good enough…like right now, I actually bit into a soggy part (which I hate)…bring on the crispies *you apple lovers know what I am talking about…

[entering serious soap box now]

I think God is preparing my heart for something new to me. Hunger-advocacy. Because confession time: I am pretty sure I am a glutton. For steak, and ketchup, and ice cream and cookies, and goat cheese, and granola bars, and fruit snacks and frozen pizzas…ahhh and chinese food, OH MY GOSH! *wait! this isn’t about me. It’s about him, and others like him… ps. this apple sucks! PLEASE WATCH!

Okay. I figure there needs to be purpose coming out of this post. Here it is. I am deeply moved for children living in poverty that are being denied basic human rights because of their parental income i.e. a right to eat a crisp apple without worrying that too much money was spent on fresh produce. In just two weeks, I have been bombarded with daily (sometimes hourly) reminders that I am blessed taking advantage of the blessings of fresh produce…and more advantage of the processed yuckies that lead to medical health hazards. What can we do darlings!? We need to do something…

[exiting soap box now with a prayer in my heart and a hope that you will help me advocate…]

Right. So better eating. How about more exercising…. how about exercising with some sass?? I’ve decided to take up biking. I already have a mountain bike that I inherited from one of my greatest heroes, BUDDY! It was his bike…and he loved it. I love it more because of that… Buddy was my sister-cousin’s husband, the one who was KIA in Iraq, 2004. I don’t write about 2004 enough…it was pretty comparable to 2012. Maybe someday….

Right. This bike. Damn- sometimes this scattered brain takes me farther than I ever intended. Hope you’re still tracking… I remember getting a bike for Christmas one year from my dad. Some of my greatest quality moments with him were on the bike trail in our neighborhood….but then I became a teenager…sorry dad. And then I never got on a bike again. Let me tell you, that trip to Dicks to just sit on one was an adventure a sight. Picture Lloyd Christmas picking up Harry on the “hog” and wobbling as he turned around. That balance…it was difficult, even if I am 10 years post-cheerleader/post-dancer… hah! That’s probably why.

So I needed to buy some biker pants. That’s what everyone told me at least. To protect the hoo-hah. The vag-ajjjeeee. The “chach”…if you will. That’s where an idea for the title of one of my “not good enough for a single post” posts was created. We called it “lipstick and chaches”. Because we were on a mission at the mall for two things. Chach protecting biking pants and lipstick.

Mission accomplished.

HAH! You thought that ass was big.. You better back it up….back, back, back it UP!

No, it’s big. But not that big. I don’t lie. There’s some “thing” inside of them. Check it out! Are you kidding me?

Ummm… what does THAT remind you of?? Dude! Scratch off the part above that referred to this as “maxi-pad-ish” …these are freakin’ “THAT kind of gift at a specialty story.” ps. they do not vibrate.

To unscare me from these “chach-pants” (and because I am fashionable when able) I had to at least buy a matching shirt. *which I am showing you to unscare you as well…yes, you’re welcome friends!

Check out that sassy shirt!

but wait! There’s more… (I spoke that as I wrote–and as you read it, I know you heard an infomercial tone come off your screen, if not, try again.)

THE LIPSTICK. Where Thug Life meets Sass Life. and where the words “Lookin’ good ladies!” ring true every time you reapply. (Which is only every 7.5 hours & worth the $26 that Lancome received as a result of this new “need” of mine…wait, what was that about hunger??)

ps. Aunt Yo thought my make-up looked great that day…smoking eyes *ahem, just woke up from a nap smeared mascara* and red lips..Sister-Cousin made it clear that “great” meant “working the streets for two nights in a row and just getting home.” Shoot. Must have been the chachey-pants…

—

and there’s just no easy way to transition to this. In my dreams, I’ve now died twice and my favorite, Jus, is my killer. No joke. He was mowing my lawn. Hit a rock. Bounced off the house. Hit me in the head….anddd… beep. beep. beep. that’s the sound of me in a coma. BEEEEEEEEPPPP. now I’m dead.

Dream #2. He brings home this new girl. Family disowns him (because she’s only 18 and a previous student of mine). Friends have an intervention. p.s. she had bad acne and an unfortunate face. only in my dream though, not in real life. BANG. BANG. BANG. those were the gunshots of the three other friends of ours he shot. BBBBBBBANAAAAAAANNNNNNNNGGGGGGG! and that’s the sound of the gun that he switched to as it blew my brains out.

Me: Jus? Do you want me dead.

Jus: NO! Although I would laugh really hard if I was mowing the lawn and managed to hit you in the head with a rock only because that would take serious skillz. *yes, apparently skills is spelt with a z.

Umm…so glad that’s where that conversation went……. not. *shakes head*

and I’m out. Happy Friday Darlings!

p.s. that’s lipstick I’m wearing… and yes the pants too (though I was covering up the big butt with my running shorts that had to come off for the picture so I looked more hard core–crap. I just told you my secret. crap. they’re in my picture. And I’ll answer what you all are wondering just because I love you that much: MY CHACH SURVIVED!

Me: Guess Who?!
Student: Nicole?
Me: WHAT?! How did you know it was me?!
Student: Because I could smell you…
Me: Ummmm?! *sniffs breath and armpits*
Student: No! NO! NICOLE!!! I meant I could smell your purfume and it smells lovely…
Me: Mmmhmmm… Right…. Nice save…

He’s right though, my purfume does smell lovely. “Lovely” being the opportune word.

Lovely…ahhh..
“I know you like to write your feelings and all, but…” words that are not so lovely. Words that stole a little piece of my glimmer and writing mojo. Until “lovely” insisted on returning. When I could smell you…

Why is smell the biggest memory enhancer? at least for me…

Like cucumber melon, 7th grade. Columbine.

Or sweet pea, high school.

and then it turned to Old Spice and those high school butterflies and first love.

or Ralph Lauren Polo and that college fling

and then Adidas Moves…. and a little too real of life…a little too lovely to be real.

But then there’s these, baby shampoo. and no more tangles. Those are the ones that make my heart melt in the loveliest of all loveliest ways. They make me happy, they make me ready…almost.

The smell of a hypnotic martini that screams friendship and support and first *adult-ish* love, answered prayer, God’s work… and here’s where my thoughts go back to being a little scattered and you have no idea what I’m talking about…

There’s the smell of dust and gravel roads, freshly mowed grass covering up a distant cow manure that’s accompanied by the sounds of roaring wind as you drive with the windows down blaring a little Rascal Flats. “Some say, we’re a couple of crazy kids…”

And then I just smell you and your support that’s got me here. hahaha, annndddd you still have no idea what I’m talking about. I smell me. And yes, it’s lovely.

A little over one year ago today, I stood in front of fear and hesitation and gave in to the best journey God has ever taken me on. And it’s over. and yes, I’m fully aware that every day of my life with Jesus is a journey…just a new one. Seriously this one is OVER!

I traveled in my home. I drove for miles and days. I left tears on the side of the road and questions with random gas station attendants. I embraced deep friendships over margaritas and wine (not glasses, BOTTLES). I laughed some fierce giggles….I fell in love…and then out…and then in again…and then out. AGAIN. I started a business. I kissed boys, a lot of boys. I even kissed a man. and then I failed, majorly. I fell asleep half dressed in my shower (covered in vomit). I snuggled with my sister. I went back to school. I moved. I celebrated. I lived and became me, the best me I’ve ever been.

Justin asked if it felt like I’ve been gone a year… “Sometimes.” I actually feel a world and a half apart from where I was then. I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time. The strongest too. And baby, look at me now! Smell this lovely fragrance and with it enjoy the memories that make my heart jump. They return with innocence and confidence. They remind me of the fighter I am, and the passionate soul that no one will ever steal (or miss) again. And they just make me love, love life, love you, love me.

And now I have it all—and keep getting more! The gifts you sent were more than enough, like a sweet-smelling sacrifice roasting on the altar, filling the air with fragrance, pleasing God no end. You can be sure that God will take care of everything you need, his generosity exceeding even yours in the glory that pours from Jesus. Our God and Father abounds in glory that just pours out into eternity. Yes. (Philippians 4:18-20 MSG)

Dear Jesus, pour your fragrant offering upon me, let me wash Your feet with mine. And let me love You more today, more tomorrow. Let me smell You more than cucumber melon and adidas moves. Let me smell you like the dust that was a part of my journey. Love, nic

and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. (Ephesians 5:2 NIV)

Was…

well…

geez, I have no idea.

—

I had 384 views yesterday.  Is that for real?!  384!  Do you all really care that much…. or were there people that were just that “interested” in seeing who and what and when….as if they’re really a part of my everyday life.  Okay so that sounds really snobby, REALLY SNOBBY!  And not at all like I don’t care and am not deeply touched by the “interest” but really… REALLY?!

Words are just more fun.

Words are the funness around my smiles.

Words are the funness around my silly life.

Words are the funness around these experiences that bring me closer to who God wants me to be.

Words are the unspoken tears of the hard times that I later look back at as “fun”.

Words are the laughter to some crazy ass first (and last) dates… more on that later…

Words really are just way more fun.

—

I have five favorite responses from yesterday’s post:

1- “Mija, what are you not telling us…?”

2- “Wait.  So you’re NOT getting married to ____” which by the way I probably owe huge apologies to the life changer who probably now thinks I’m some crazed pathological liar living in fantasy world… more on that later too… for now know this: I’M NOT.

3- “Let me tell you a story about a boy and a wolf…”

4- “I’m so confused.”

5- “Wait.. I thought you were over *that*” (referring to the last *lost* six months of my life)

Which is what begs for yet ANOTHER follow-up post to my last controversial two.

The news- Though it may have inferred bad news, it was quite the opposite.  Instead what “the news” did was show me just how sensitive and involved I still am to the life of CPC.  The ministry is a part of my heart, seriously it will ALWAYS BE…. and in realizing how close it all still is to me– I had no choice but to reflect on how much I’ve grown since leaving….even finally making realizations about my leaving.

And my heart was a part of that.  Learning to love me for me.  Loving myself because of who He made me… Allowing someone to love me for me.  Being okay when it’s not what I thought or expected was probably the biggest lesson of it all and I’ve learned it all over these last six months.  These words that I type are that much more fun because of these realizations.  It’s all coming together.  It just keeps coming together.

Look-the fact that I have to say this again just really makes me shake my head with a sassy grin.  I will get married.  In the meantime though–please know, I’m still not that Christian girl.  Take me for the one who trusts in the Lord and learns from relationships.  The one who moves forward while looking back occasionally (because I’d be lying if I said I didn’t or wouldn’t).  And believe me when I say, don’t, I repeat DON’T let your new “interests” know/find out about your blog amidst sassy fun words such as those.  and more on that later too….

And in the funness of these words, I say hello to this life and wave goodbye *that* life.  With a smile and with tears.  With excitement and with fears.

These words are just fun.  And yes scattered.  and yes, definitely not always thought out.  But they’re mine.  So to the 384 of you who were that excited for me, thank you.  and sorry, but please don’t be offended by this sass- take a chill pill, and realize, really, really?! you were more excited for my upcoming wedding than I was.  Step back.  Have fun with these words.  And smile.  with tears.  with excitement.  with fears.  and just Behold Him with me.  He doesn’t stop working, this sass just keeps getting better.

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If I want to write, guess what folks, I’m gonna write.
If I want to dance… well.. I’ll do it tomorrow…
And if I want to cry, I will. But I’m not. Yet. because I am the QUEEN of my emotions!
And if I want to sing, dammit I WILL SING. LOUDLY. I will sing with joy. WITH JOY! like that.
If I want to run, I’ll run until my calf explodes in pain and I need to ice it every two hours.
If I want to work things out, I will. I am. Because that’s when I feel control controlled, in my sweet heart.

Hey! Here I go.

Here I go letting my Master move back into my heart. Because even though I gave Him brokenness, He’s still giving me innocence. And love. He’s pretty great like that!

I seem to have forgotten that He’s not watching me from a distance as I sing with joy, as I dance a jiggy. He’s not watching me from a distance when I write. He’s not watching me from a distance as I cry. He’s not watching me as I run my heart and fat thighs out. Nope. He’s there with me, inside of me, through every joy, through every pain, every struggle, every disappointment, every good and perfect thing. He doesn’t leave us. And He hasn’t left me. I may have felt like He did, but He didn’t, and He’s not going to.

You know what He will do though? He’s going to empower me to change; to jump out of the funk on the funkiest of days and dance… Like a boss. Like a FOOL!

Those who trust God’s action in them find that God’s Spirit is in them—if their thinking is controlled by the Spirit, there is life and peace.

LIFE. annnnnd PEACE.. Bam. Take that you funk fools! Because my life will have life. And my life will have peace.

He’s helping me live a mighty big life. I heard this at church this weekend:

I am the physical space in which God dwells. And He WANTS to be here.

So here we are, watching the sunrise that He painted for me… To see His majesty.

Here I go finding out what it means to rise after falling. To be content again. To be bored. And yes, that’s a good thing. So good. Because He’s there with me. Just like He’s here with me now. In the night. Where we’re just working things out. In this refound place. Where angles dance and sing over me. Where outstretched arms spin me. Where my heart is taken over. Where I’m with Him. Just Him. And here we go…

“Laughter is the sound of the soul dancing. My soul probably looks like Fred Astaire.”

NO.  LET’S DANCE.  Let’s drink and be merry.  Let’s say the word poop without laughing.  Let’s squeak like donkeys.  Let’s gasp for air to the point we almost pass out.  Let’s fall over with gut aches and just… LAUGH.

I watched a beachy sunrise today.  I took a beachy run.  I shed some beachy tears.  and I laughed some beachy laughs.  Because that’s just where life has me.

Here:

Where I’ve found my own little perch…with my own little oatmeal, and my own small tea.  At the Morning View where the locals hang, and where soon, I fake a local too.

Here: where I still have no job and still have no idea what God’s doing.

Here: where I’m surrounded by good people.  by friends.  by relaxation.  by a growling dog.  by sand.  by sun.  by thoughts.  by reflections.  and so. much. more.. including a monkey that is picking his nose, whom I’ve named “Digger” for obvious reasons...

We’ve played munchkin booty.  A game filled with cheating, and negotiations, and curses, and pirate eye patches.  And it’s been too close to my life.  I don’t like the game of life.  I don’t like taking short cuts to win.  I don’t like making negotiations to get by.  And God knows I don’t like the curses that I’ve brought upon myself which is probably why I’ve chosen to see through one eye instead of two… which brings me to the boy fun.

Pam asked last week (though I’m not sure it was asking versus telling..) “You were lying to yourself saying he was all fun.”  Oh hell yeah I was.  Because news flash my friends, he was a lot more than just fun.  Here’s what my open eye saw: that this was the best I’ve been treated, ever.  the most honesty, ever.  not just a boy, a man.  not just fun, reality.  not just a “dime a dozen”, a gem.  A man that knows commitment.  A man that saw my heart and vulnerability.  A man that was just a man.  A great, great man.  And here’s what my eye that was wearing the pirate patch saw (or didn’t see..because in dark times, that’s when the eye begins to see…): a man that is a stupid-head for not seeing the worth he deserves.  a man that is a stupid-head for ignoring my birthday.  A man that is a stupid-head for sweet talking me (not sure they were all lies–I still believe he’s honest..at least with me).  A man that is a stupid-head for lying to himself.  A man that is moving forward without cherishing good that came, without thanking God for good that came.  Because good came, and that is NOT a lie.  Good came.  It wasn’t negotiating despite the discussion that said this is just “fun”.  It wasn’t cheating to get ahead because Lord knows we were in the moment.  It wasn’t cursed…or maybe it was………. nope, a curse is punishment.  none of that, and if he thought so–than he’s an even bigger stupid-head than I thought because there was goodness.  real goodness.  no regrets.  no mistakes.  and not JUST fun.

Just fun was a lie.  Here’s some more lies.

• I hated 25.  No way sir.  No way ma’am.  25 was filled with blessings.  It was the circumstances I hated.  The things I brought upon myself I hated… the ….  LIES.  No job. oh well, you stupid-head Nic, why did you quit then?  No ambition.  oh well, you stupid-head Nic, why don’t you find some.  
• I’m mad at God.  Nope.  I’m actually not.  Just annoyed with Him.  rant begins NOW: because why?  Why in the hell, did he throw this wrench in His plan now.  Why did he bring the life-changer aka stupid-head into my life now?  Did I need this now?  Did I need to stop everything I’ve known now?  Did I need to go jobless now?  Did this really need to be part of His “grand” plan for my life?  because it. sucks.  saw this on pinterest.  not a conceding fan, but venturing to try and be.

and here come the truths.

I have support.  that’s all that really matters.

girls. oh girls. theses are what you call girl-funs. oh my girls.

drinks really do make life a little happier.

26 will be better.

and so I relax with my tea knowing that I am ready to rise after falling.  THAT will define me.  not my heart.  not my feelings.  but my actions.  and I won’t cheat.  I won’t negotiate.  I won’t see out of one eye.  I will be.  I will behold.  I will act.  I will keep running.  I will find a job I love.  I will start over.  I will define happiness in a new way making it my most felt emotion.  I will redefine impossible.  I will stay bold, and bossy, and honest.  I will take time to clear my head and my heart.  I will show love.  I will find simplicity.  I will color outside of the lines.  I will keep laughing, keep dancing, keep the creativity, and keep finding me.

I raise my tea glass friends.  I raise my tea glass… to hell with the munchkin booty, to the boy-fun aka life-changer aka stupid-head, to say goodbye to lies, hello to truths.  I raise my glass.

That’s okay.  I’ve adjusted.  And because I have, it’s time to post many MANY thoughts that are so long overdue.  I knew there would be a time that I would finally get to so many things that I’ve been wanting to blog about.  My shortcut to reminders- twitter.  So here begins it, my long overdue thoughts.

TRYING to Behold Him, March 2

You’re Blowing Me Away, March 3-7

These Women, March 13

Stars are the Streetlights of the Universe, April 11

Insist on Yourself, April 16

Boast this Baby!, April 24

Midwestern Accents, May 16

Sleep, please?  Peace, thank You, May 22

The message came at the most perfect time, too!  It was in the middle of thanksgiving.  I need to be thankful for what I have, yada, yada, yada.  ______ is a blessing from God to satisfy my daily needs, yada, yada, yada.  Do I really need that new pair of triple bailey button uggs in black (which I still want)?  Do I really need to run on my state of the art treadmill?  Do I really need to use my $150 hair straightner? Even tv- I challenged myself to replace it with something that would grow me closer to God (for 2 days), EPIC FAIL!

I had this urge to blog.  To tell my five readers what life is like without my straightner.  My friend told me my hair was “so full of body.”  I felt so full of body, and I couldn’t blog it.  I thought of about 5000 different blog entries.  One is in the making; it’s my list of pet peeves (in fact, I might make it a permanent tab on my front page, I find it’s continually growing).  I reached a point where I realized I had to revert back to the old times, the old days, the days when I used pen and paper.  <I’d like to insert note here: since I bought the iPad, I almost never write on a pad and paper.  I honestly think I’m forgetting my handwriting>

Any way.  sorry.  In thinking about those days when I would write and write and write, I decided this might be the time to go back and read and read and read.  If you know me, which all five of you do, you know that I hate reading.  TOTALLY.  But I did.  I pulled out journals from when I was in high school.  The ones that said “I’m going to be married by the time I am 19.  We’re going to be rich and live in a big house with 3 dogs and no kids, I’ll be 22, a practicing dentist by then.”  Mmmm… not so much.  NO REALLY, not so much!  married at 19.  rich. big house.  3 dogs.  no kids <– well that’s actually okay…DENTIST.  I couldn’t help but think how different my life would be now.  Where would “we” be living?  Would I really be happy?  What kind of dogs?(because I really like boxers, and I have a new intriguing thing for airedales).  It scared me, thinking of where my plan would have me instead of where God’s plan led me.  So I dropped that journal and moved onto the next.

2006.  “Matt and I are going to be at the beach condo in Wildwood with his family by this time next week.  I pray his family loves me, and that I love them too.  I’m nervous to meet my future family.  What if they compare me to her?”  There was a time when I would read that one and shut it right away.  This time, it led me to pray for him.  To pray a lot for him, and when I did, that opened a(whole)nother door, <insert one of the 5000 blog entries here>.  The thing is, while I did fall in love with his family (and I’m pretty sure them with me), again, I couldn’t help but think of where my plan would have me <married by now??> God, I literally could not even imagine, so thank you for leading me along your plan.

2008.  “I love my job.  I love my friends from church.  But the truth is, God, I’m ready to go home.  I’m saving this money, and the moment you tell me to, I’m on a u-haul back to O-town!”  Funny, but I got to Spring 2009.  It said the same thing, one addition, “as soon as I finish my pre-reqs and DAT (dental admission test), I’m on a u-haul back to O-town!”  Here’s from the November of 2009:  “I don’t know what is about to happen, but God, I pray you take me where I need to be according to your plan.  deliver me, Jesus!”  And from then on I hoped and hoped it would be in Omaha, but as I hoped, he built me here.

That’s when I went to the blogs, not all of them, but the ones where I saw His plan.  And that’s where they became so much more than just my writing.  I like to write.  It’s how I express that “full of body” feeling no matter if it’s me in love, sad, lost, captivated, it’s a big part of me.

So I title this “to where the writing leads…”  me.  I have no idea, but I like my story, and I like praying my story.  There used to be times when I felt my story was a waste, and now I see, it’s been the biggest part of me.  I like my broken heart and plans, but more, I love to where You lead me.