Wednesday, March 31, 2010

What If...

I was reading Donald Miller's blog the other day and he requested his readers to ask a simple question: What if...? The results are lovely. Here's a link. Be sure to read at least some of the comments, because they're the best part.

I made a list of my own What if questions. Here it is, a little stream-of-conscious-y:
  • What if I actually, seriously, chase after my crazy dreams?
  • What if I used my energy to brainstorm ways to use my passions, as well as my gifts?
  • What if I get (more) serious about being a writer?
  • What if I never get married?
  • What if I write for an audience of me?
  • What if I stopped having a mindset of "waiting"?
  • What if I leave out the "working on becoming" in the phrase "I'm working on becoming a writer"?
  • What if I spent as much time reading my Bible and "keeping up with" God as I do keeping up with mere acquaintances on facebook?
  • What if I finally set a time to volunteer with refugees in Nashville?
  • What if God shows me a way to reach lost intellectuals here and now?
  • What if I make an effort to better maintain long-distance friendships?
  • What if I stop thinking about becoming a runner, and actually become a runner?
  • What if I listened more and shared less?
  • What if money didn't matter?
  • What if a specific calling never comes?
  • What if I never know for sure?
  • What if I were truly vulnerable with people I love?
  • What if I stopped worrying about what others will think?
  • What if I worked to become more like those I admire?
  • What if I really, really believed that prayer really, really works?
Reading others' What if questions and asking this question of myself inspired me to do so many things. And, as most inspiration goes for me, this means writing them out. Therefore, the next several posts here will be unpacking some, not all, of my What if questions.

Definitely ask yourself some What if questions (even in the comments section). In college, we would have "I love" conversations, where we would take turns completing sentences that began with "I love." Those were some of my favorite conversations. I would love to begin having "What if" conversations. I think, like Miller says, that's how we "create exciting and meaningful stories." Beautiful.

One person in the comments on Donald Miller's blog asked, "What if I asked myself this question every single day?" I love that.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Halloween Candy, or When I Am Inspired

When I was little, I would save my Halloween candy. I would have a few pieces on Halloween night, and then maybe one a day the following week. After that, I would save it. I mean, I had a few pieces here and there, but most of the candy remained until the next Halloween. I was trying to be frugal. The problem with saving up Halloween candy is that eventually it goes bad. The chocolate turns kind of white-ish and the taffy and skittles get so stale you fear breaking a tooth while chewing them. The candy is wasted.

[There are probably a million and one kids' sermon illustrations that could use that story. I know, I worked camp, and could turn that little anecdote into the plan of salvation in no time. But, I'm not going to do that here. Feel free to use it if you need a good lead-in sometime.]

I tend to waste inspiration the same way. Sometimes, I feel as if I am overly inspired. I just have so many great things that could lead to amazing writing, but I don't want to write it all at once. I want to ration it out, like my Halloween candy. The problem is, like candy, inspiration eventually gets stale. It just isn't the same after a little while.

Lately, I've read a lot of great articles, interviews, and blogs, I've had some rich conversations with other dreamers, I've listened to music by artists who are, truly, artists, and even looked at some visual art. I know, soaking in the culture. The point is, after observing, or participating in, each of these art forms, I have been inspired to write. That's what I do. That's who I am. But have I written? Not really.

Well, this time, I am not going to let it go stale. I will be writing it down before the rich, chocolaty (Yeah, that's how you spell it. I looked it up.) parts turn old and...white-ish (I admit, that metaphor ran out before I wanted it to, but I'm leaving it).

I guess I just thought you should know that, since you read my writing. And I can't think of any way to end this post besides something cheesy like "Check back for the inspiring stuff" and I am not a fan of cheesiness.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Things I Like: Watching American Idol with my Grandmother

[See, Jennifer, I didn't completely abandon this series]

I watch American Idol with my Grandmother every Tuesday, and most Wednesday, nights. Mainly, I like watching the show with her because she provides excellent commentary.

Half the time, I have to remind her the show is on, and coach her to the right channel. But don't think that just because she doesn't know the time or the place, she isn't a passionate viewer. She states her opinion as fact and states it often--"You don't do that to a Patsy song. Oh, no. She can't do that to that song. Ugh." She disagrees with the judges with the same certainty--"I don't know why they said that. It was a great performance. They are just crazy."

Another thing I love is that she doesn't know anyone's name. We have to describe all the contestants, instead of referring to them by name--"the dreadlocks girl", "the one that played the piano", "the little guy." Just a few minutes ago she said, "I just love that little girl. I have no idea what she's called."

My favorite moment, though, is when she and my great-aunt were discussing the show. Neither of them knew anyone's name, which made it much more fun for the rest of us.
Great-Aunt: "What's that male-female woman's name?"
Me: "Ellen."
Great-Aunt: "She has a beautiful girlfriend."
Grandmother: "Yeah, she does. And what's that little runt that talks all the time?"
Me: "Ryan Seacrest?"
Grandmother: "Yes. He just thinks he's something. He got in Simon's face last week. Woohee! I couldn't believe it."

So great.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Letter to the British Customs Officer I met upon my arrival in England

The following is a letter that will never be mailed. This is not an original concept, but I'm taking it. I would say that this will be a sort of series, but we saw how that last series turned out, so I'm making no promises.

Dear British Customs Officer,
I am writing to apologize. You see, these past four years, I have been telling everyone that you were rude to me. I have recently been enlightened and now feel you were more than likely only trying to help me. In case you do not remember our brief conversation in the London Gatwick Airport, I have recreated our dialogue below:

You: How long will you be staying in the country?
Me: About three months
You: And what is the reason for your visit?
Me: I am studying abroad. See my paper? (I was nervous that you wouldn't let me in the country.)
You: What are you studying?
Me: English
You: Are you learning to speak it?
Me: Hopefully, I already know how to speak it!
You: Well, hopefully isn't a word.
Me (fighting back tears): oh.

First, I would like to respectfully point out to you, sir, that "hopefully" is, in fact, a word. However, I admit I used it improperly in the sentence above. I meant to say, "I should hope I already know how to speak English". Instead, you, sir, heard "Full of hope, I already know how to speak it!" and that sounds quite foolish. I apologize for my ignorance and I must say, thank you, sir, for trying to educate one ignorant American student. I suppose someone like yourself might say that I am only a product of an ignorant country, but do not blame America. It is my own fault. A responsible student would have researched the word shortly after our conversation and not spent four years calling you a rude man.

For my thoughtless behavior, dear sir, I am sorry.

Sincerely,
Elizabeth

I wrote this and the article I mention in this post

This is what I was writing when that whole "snarky" issue came up. Yeah, yeah, last minute, late at night. Which explains that typo in the middle of it..

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Snarky

Snarky has become one of my favorite words to describe my writing style and my sense of humor and, I suppose, my general take on life. I don't think snarky is an actual word, because it has a dotted red line underneath it. Unless I spelled it wrong, but how else would you spell snarky?

Hang on, I'll look it up. Luckily, I have a dictionary on my dashboard....

Oo, it is a word. And, I spelled it correctly. But I don't know that I like the definition.

Onto dictionary.com...like a preacher searching for the version of the Bible they think drives their point home the best, I am searching for a version of a definition I like. Too bad I don't have an OED. I bet it has all the versions. One-stop shopping.

Anyway, it looks like I may have to start using a different word. "Snarky" means "irritable" and I hope I am not irritable. And this whole time I have been saying that. Man. I thought it meant dry, a little sarcastic, but definitely short of cynicism.

Oh, well.

What I was going to say is that sometimes I wait to add in the snarky (pretend for the rest of this post that snarky follows my definition). Meaning, I'll write something and it'll be stark. No parentheticals, no one-word sentences; I pretty much follow the rules. Then, I go in and add the snark. And the article goes from stark to snark! ha.

I do that sometimes. [Like in the article that I should be writing rightnow because it is due soon and I have somewhere to be at 6:30 a.m. Instead, I am writing about snark. You just can't reign the creative process.] Other times (see above), I stick it in as I go along.

And for that information, you are very welcome.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

This Week

Things I Like Tuesday will now become an irregular feature on this blog. I just kind of got bored with it. Yes, after 3. I'm sure it will show up periodically, because I do like lots of things and I'll probably write about them every so often, on Tuesdays.

I try to avoid these little what-I-did-today posts, because usually they are a bore, unless something exciting happens. And it did (well, it was exciting to me. and my optometrist). But, if you don't want to read any further, I won't be offended. In fact, I won't even know.

Yesterday, I went to the eye doctor. Mainly, I went to discuss Lasik, because I'm practically blind and, despite the fact that very few things make me cringe like the thought of a needle being stuck in my eye, I need to be able to see.

Turns out, I'm currently (basically) blind in my left eye. I mean, I couldn't even tell there were letters on the screen, much less tell you what they were. The doctor's response: "wow." My blindness wowed the optometrist. Great.

But then, a few turns of the lenses later, he was wowed for a different reason. I could see! Better than I have ever seen, according to him. With those new lenses I could see 20/13 and usually I struggle to see 20/25, with lenses. Amazing. From the way the eye doctor reacted, I think he may write about this and publish it in some sort of eye doctor journal. "That's a 'D', not an 'O', but that's okay! This is the best you've ever seen!" I can't wait to get those contacts. I'll be seeing things I've never seen before. I'm incredibly excited.

[Hang on. Did you think I'd put an exclamation point on that sentence? Oh, no, not me. I have a fairly strict policy. Why do I have to punctuate excitement when I've already stated it? You may now continue.]

It was stress. Yes, the fact that I now have my life together (at least, compared to what it has been these last four years), changed my eyesight. Incredible. Sure, I'm still practically blind, but my eye changed in a way that is fixable, sans needle. Crazy.

And Friday, I'm going to determine the rest of my life.
Okay, not really. But I felt like being dramatic. I'm going to go visit the school I'll probably be attending next year. I'm also determined to determine exactly which degree I'm getting. I'm trying to get all the decisions out of the way so that I can bask in the knowing (at least some aspects of my life), rather than the unknown, as exciting as it has been these last 4 years.


So, there's my diary sort of post. I'll try not to do this often.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Things I Like: Chick-fil-A

I like Chick-fil-A.

I could eat (and have eaten) there 3 times a week, and still enjoy it.
Here's why I like them:
--I like their chicken. The nuggets are my favorite.
--They have waffle fries. Yum.
--Their ice cream is called "icedream" and that is funny. And they let you exchange your kids' meal prize for icedream.
--Cows telling people to eat chickens. Also funny...and slightly morbid for chicken lovers.
--They are closed on Sunday, and, aside from all the Christian implications a move like that has, "absence makes the heart grow fonder."
--The employees are friendly and actually seem to like serving people (which must be difficult to achieve in the fast-food business).
--I don't mind spending money there, because I know it will be used wisely, and to further the kingdom of God through the Cathys' WinShape organization. The organization has branches to help people in all walks of life to grow in their faith. Pretty cool.
--S. Truett Cathy (the founder) is a sweet little old man that has taught 13-year-old boys Sunday School class for 50+ years. Amazing.

If you live in a part of this country that does not have Chick-fil-A yet, I am sorry. I really like it.