God on facebook

Speaking of God as the great caretaker, on the new not-as-good facebook you know how each interest, musician, etc. has their own page? Well, first of all, it's annoying.

Second of all, if you list God as an interest, it links to God's page, and this is his picture.

Who chose this? Look at his furrowed brow and wind-blown cloud-beard! Strange, and unlike any caretaker I've ever known. But if God has a beard, I guess it could be made out of clouds.

Maybe when he was making clouds he thought, "I will make these look like my beard." 

recap, and then some

You know you had a good weekend when you ate gelato two nights in a row.

And then popsicles the next day.

go summer! go summer! go go, go summer!

---------------------------------------------------

Cool treats aside, the weekend was full of burgers (seriously, two meals. no shame.), this guy, and particularly sweet church. 

Despite overwhelming moments of fear, loneliness and defeat, God takes great care. And today when the moments of fear, loneliness and defeat are especially overwhelming and continuous, I am thankful for a simple reminder. We have to take care of each other, and point each other to God as the great caretaker --I am learning there is just no other way. I rejoice for my friend that really should be called sister and for weekends of pointing. 

get out of town!

Well world, I am headed off to Atlanta this weekend where I will be eating burgers and licking popsicles with Meg and (hopefully!) T. At risk of stating the obvious, can I just say that I am seriously looking forward it?

Last night while I was babysitting half a dozen children and folding laundry (it's a glamorous life I'm leading here in Greenville) I was chatting about the day's events with megs on the phone when I had to break up a wedgie fight between two of the boys. It was a strange (very strange) Lost-style flash forward to the days of child rearing* which I hope will still include debriefing each other on every single unimportant detail of the past 24 hours, and laughing about the wit and ironies of each.

----------------------- 

During that conversation we also talked about how eating ice cream every day forever is part of our life philosophy. Also included in my life philosophy are; eating cookies for breakfast and calling them scones and making impulsive fiscal decisions that include purses with STRIPES AND BOWS!

from Freshly Picked ; spotted on you are my fave

gush, gush gush. 

----------------------- 

Speaking of gushing, for the past 48 hours Emily Lewis and I have being exchanging Sylvia Plath quotes that are particularly true, cynical and relevant to our lives. Ones that stick in my memory are,

"I'm supposed to be having the time of my life."

"If there's anything I look down on, it's a man in a blue outfit."

and the kicker...

"There I went again, building up a glamorous picture of a man who would love me passionately the minute he met me, and all out of a few prosy nothings." **

Who doesn't love a good prosy nothing?

----------------------- 

*, ** sometimes I write things on the blog and as I'm typing them, I think to myself 'I really shouldn't be blogging about this,' but then I click POST anyway. These are two examples.

yo-pro

things that aren't happening to me in the office.

...alas, we don't even have a copy room, not to mention a Joseph Gordon-Levitt.

take me back

to lake tahoe

 

this makes me want to go back. found via rifle

sometimes...

...life happens and I don't write about it on here. Time goes by, more life happens and suddenly I am paralyzed by the overwhelming amount of content that I want to document. In recent days, that has happened.

Also, in recent days, I went to Europe. It was absolutely delightful and one day, I will go back. Unfortunately for both you (whoever you are) and I, I don't have pictures from the trip. My caring, loving dad strongly encouraged me to leave my camera at home*, so in a weak moment of feeling insecure about my misplacing-important-things-problem**, I decided to leave it behind, safe and sound in suburban atlanta. Part of me wants to be bitter about the whole thing, but I do appreciate the fact that my camera isn't being sold off in some european pawn shop by the mediterranean predators who would have taken it from my side satchel...or from one of the many cafe's I may have left it in. 

I also think that maybe, just maybe, it was kind of nice to be able to "see the world through both my eyes" (wise words) while watching this kind of sunset in Santorini, eating the most lovely, delicious food in Rome, and walking around corners like this in Florence.

So I didn't come back with pictures. But, I did come back with stories...Many, many stories. AND, best of all, mini honey jars that I stole from our hotel in London. Miniature jars!! How could I resist? 

May I also mention that Holly just referred to herself as an "irrational love beast" in a gchat conversation. Rawr. 

---------------------------

*same day he bought me a yellow rape whistle and made me buy a gray water bottle over green, to draw less attention to myself, obviously.

**in recent times this problem has gotten quite better but today i really blew it. the small incident involved me driving someone else's car (who i had just met) from athens, ga to greenville, sc to retrieve my car keys. one day, when i'm older and more responsible, i will have at least 5 sets of car keys for such occasions.

yogurt

Yes, I am about to blog about yogurt.

Because I am rash and overly-opinionated, there is long list of things that I scoffed at upon first encounter and then later came to love (twitter, distressed cropped skinny jeans, yoga, to name a few).

And folks, today I am here to tell you that there is an addition to that list. Greek yogurt. It. is. delicious. So delicious, in fact, that this morning, one bowl was not enough. Who goes back for seconds in breakfast? Now, I have never been a huge yogurt lover, so it wasn't that I was offended by Greek yogurt like I was by distressed cropped skinny jeans or still am by maple syrup. We had more of a neutral relationship, similar to my relationship with oatmeal, raisins, cars and the way mechanical things work.

Not anymore! I was forced to eat it one morning while I was in Huntsville the week after graduation because there were no english muffins left. Cue love affair.

These are things I'm sure you are dying to know. Happy tuesday! I promise pictures of life in Greenville soon, speaking of love affairs.

(Have I mentioned that I got a new camera for graduation? I did. But lemme tell you. It is hard to take pictures when you do most things alone. Have I resorted to taking solo shots? Not yet... but I wouldn't count it out.)

where to go

We all know how I feel about Improv Everywhere, so naturally when I saw this my heart exploded (I mean, their tag-line is "We Make Scenes." What's not to love?). I've never been to New York, but if I did, I would totally walk in the New Yorker lane and lie if someone asked me if I was a New Yorker. Then they would notice my Southern accent and not believe me (even though I don't really have one...).

I would like to go to NYC, but not as much as I'd like to go here.

Yesterday when Megs and I were gchatting about the Iceland video she said, and I quote, "They need some blondes there. Diversity. Plus, when I think of Iceland, I think of blondes. People want to see blondes when they go to Iceland."

The facts. People want to see blondes when they go to Iceland. We care about people, and we can be those blondes.

underwear

tragedy: this morning I realized I was totally out of clean underwear (who has time to do laundry these days?), and couldn't reach into meg's drawer to borrow a pair. Am I wearing a bathing suit under my jeans or... not a bathing suit? You will never know.

comedy: made friends with a guy who's last name is Littlejohn. Culturally relevant and also slightly whimsical.

Also, in this new phase of life, I've started using the word "jam" an uncommon amount and in uncommon ways that I'm not sure make sense. It just keeps happening. Examples from today:

"I'm just jamming away on this story." 
"Sorry I'm all up in your jam." 


It's like some foreign entity is taking over my vocabulary.

comedy or tragedy

My recent launch into the cussing real world launched me into an unplanned blogging hiatus, and I am here to offer you no apology. Those of you who know me know that transitions are my kryptonite (those of you who don't know me aren't reading this...) so the past few weeks have been explosive, to say the least. 

Most days I feel like Harold Crick from Stranger Than Fiction wandering around and keeping tally of events that will help him know if his life is a comedy or a tragedy. Things that come to mind,

Those awesome water dispensers that give you unlimited cold or hot water at work: comedy

Cheerful peonies I bought from the farmer down the road: comedy

There's a farmer down the road: comedy

Thinking of how Meg's favorite flower is the peony, but she's in Europe: tragedy

Overdraft funds, lots of them: tragedy

Writer's block when writing is your JOB: tragedy

Discovering the Anthro widget: comedy

The list can and will go on.

In season's like this when I feel totally wordless (read helpless), I'm especially thankful for people full of words, good ones, and their contributions to society via my soul. Take Lemony Snicket for example. Have I ever read anything by Lemony Snicket? No, but I stumbled upon this and I think it's vibrantly true and especially lovely and sad at the same time.

One's home is like a delicious piece of pie you order in a restaurant on a country road one cozy evening -- the best piece of pie you have ever eaten in your life -- and can never find again. After you leave home, you may find yourself feeling homesick, even if you have a new home that has nicer wallpaper and a more efficient dishwasher than the home in which you grew up. 

See? That is how I feel. And I want a delicious piece of pie so bad.  All this seems so unrelated... I promise it's not. I just don't know how to connect the dots.

 I'm also especially thankful for the design is mine thoughts of the day. These resonate so much that they've been in a folder on my desktop, and I open them and look at them when I'm feeling especially poignant. I'm ashamed to tell you how many times a day that is.

Olivia Tabert

Stéphane Massa-Bidal

near modern disaster

Open folder. View images. Back to work. 

In conclusion (I hate the phrase "in conclusion", but I typed it so I'm leaving it to punish myself. What a terrible way to start a paragraph.), how awesome is the name Lemony? What if my name was Lemony Hereth? Or Lemony House (House is my dream last name). Holly House...love it, but Lemony House sounds way better. If it wouldn't make me that-weird-girl-who-changed-her-name, I would do it. We all have that friend, and we all make fun of them. Just call me Holly.