Oh Procrastination, I Will Conquer You!!

The days of 2008 are numbered, Thanksgiving and Christmas are past, and still, the day taunts my premature hopes of spring with a tantalizing 71 degrees!! What in the WORLD?!?!

Today, I really don't feel like doing anything short of taking a Rip Van Winkle-esque nap. I woke up this morning thirty minutes before needing to arrive at work, and yet again, got in the door a few minutes late. (This is a frequent vice of mine...) So, as today is a double shift day, I am determined to get there not only on time but at least ten minutes early for my 4:00 shift. But really, getting over a cold while having to deal with drowsiness, my ears popping every few minutes, and a perpetual desire to sneeze (which fails to be satiated) doesn't make me anywhere close to being as motivated as I need to be. So, realistically, will I get to work on time? We'll see...

I feel like a useless lump. But oddly, my mind is somehow awake (otherwise, how on earth would I manage to put words together in a somewhat comprehensive sentence?) whilst my body feels heavier than my pitifully yet-to-be-toned muscles can manoeuver. I feel like sleeping but I probably won't. I could use some piano time, but probably won't have the energy to keep up with my own fingers. I wouldn't mind watching a movie, but I'm not sure I feel like it. I should probably help around the house or do something useful, but as I'm here downstairs on my computer shirking responsibility, I'm obviously not doing that either.

Maybe I should just shrivel up and die.

But I don't have the energy for that either. No, I think I'll just sit here and type away, writing in as many ways thinkable to describe how utterly useless I'm being.

I wish I'd gone running this morning when it's this nice out. I wish I could start on the numerous thank-you notes I owe to the wonderful people who thought to give me Christmas present. I wish I could clean the whole house just for my mom to be relieved of that everyday stress. I wish I could bring myself to learn stick-shift so I could drive my own car. And I wish, I WISH I would stop writing about all this, get off my bum, and just freaking DO it.

Motivation. How am I motivated? Sure wish I knew. I'm certainly not the kind of person who does something because they see the reward sparkling in the sun-rayed distance. And sometimes I'm the person who is motivated by the heat of the fire, by pressure, by deadlines. But even then I seem to procrastinate for as long as I can until there's no time left and I'm stranded with the job that still needs to be done while the time I could have used is buried in the past, which was most likely used for a less productive cause anyway.

So how -- in the event of the useless state I'm currently wallowing in -- does one get up and get out of their own little pity party in the day of action? Everyone has exactly 24 hours in a day -- no more, no less. And yet, many people accomplish astoundingly and profoundly more than others who have the very same time that all those motivated people are allotted. How is this acheived?! What is their secret? Is the key in starting the day on the right foot and going from there? Or is it simply being able to pick oneself up again after even the tiniest fall with the determination of trying again until the desired accomplishment is completed? I'm guessing it must be some kind of combination of both.

Some people are good starters, others are good "middlers," and some are good finishers. As for me? I'm an excellent starter. Give me any task, any challenge, any project and I will gladly start it for you. But follow through and finish it until the end? That takes incredible strength for me. Even getting to the middle of something takes a good deal of self-discipline for me. And granted, this trait doesn't apply to everything in my life, thankfully. As far as going through with things in relationships for example, that remains the biggest exception in my personal makeup. In comparison, I couldn't be more serious about my engagement, or more dedicated to the role I will have as a wife and mother.

But concerning comparitively lesser things in the big picture, I'm having a hard time being motivated right now and getting out the door on time is definitely one of them. Procrastination is somewhat of a talent, one could say, that I have unfortunately mastered over the course of my nineteen years. I still have to consciously battle it, and repeatedly, it creeps up behind my back and thwarts me, exhaustingly time and time again. So, I had best conclude this post, which could quite possibly remain as my only December post (let's pray it isn't), and get ready for work an hour in advance so I get out the door on time.

Cheers to all of you!!

Natalie

It's a Girl Thing...

Ok, I know this post won't necessarily apply to everyone (namely, guys,) because I simply can't imagine any guy being as excited as I am over a little pot of hair wax. But for any of the females who read my blog, I had to say that I recently bought this (yes, it's actually a hair WAX) little green pot of hair product (and very inexpensively at a mere $4.16) which does WONDERS for any of you who have wavy or curly hair.

My hair is naturally very wavy, and, if styled correctly, curly. But I've been frustrated with the results my current curl treatment has been leaving me with, since the curls don't stay throughout the day (oh wow, it even rhymes.) And with a somewhat short haircut, now at shoulder length (which is in the process of growing out), I was unsure as to the cause of the lack-of-curl problem. So, I was recommended this hair wax by a girl I work with who has a very similar hair texture to mine, and I decided to try it out.

What I usually do now is scrunch my hair upside down when it's still wet and then again, scrunch it damp with a towel. Then, still upside down, I take about a penny-sized swipe of wax, rubbing it into a film between both hands, and scrunch my hair until the wax is evenly lathered throughout the damp locks. And while it dries (rather, UNTIL it dries,) I keep scrunching at various intervals. Then when my hair is completely dry, I'm left with a head of perfectly shiny (and un-residue-y) tendrils of curly hair!!

I don't think anything excites me in this way as much as cheaply purchased hair products that merit results like this! (Except possibly make-up, but that will be a future post, I'm sure...)

Had to share my enthusiasm -- thanks for reading.

Long live curls!

Cheers!!

Natalie

So, What Is It Like Being Engaged at Nineteen?

Let me tell you....it's certainly not anything I thought it would be! To begin with, I don't see myself as anything different -- for example, the difference between having not been engaged before and being engaged now is entirely indecipherable. I'm the same me! I used to look at engaged women as if they were transformed, in a perfectly lit ray of sunshine all to themselves with their fiance....completely in a different world. What I didn't realize was that it would be as real as it is SURreal.

I love to read and think about quotes. And since being in a relationship (and now being engaged) with Caleb, my eyes have been opened to the astoundingly vast and fathomless world of what it means to love and be loved and to strive with all that you are to live, searching for new and true ways to accomplish Loving by definition masterfully. Just now, I found a quote that I simply could not pass up sharing in this post (as I was, I confess, looking through quotes for inspiration to trigger a new post as I have neglected to write for a very overdue two weeks). It's a simple quote, but very true I think, by an anonymous source.

"We were given: Two hands to hold. Two legs to walk. Two eyes to see. Two ears to listen. But why only one heart? Because the other was given to someone else. For us to find."

I really like that. (Hah! I have two hearts now!) Maybe that's why infatuation is so strong at first meeting...because your two hearts have never beaten together as one, and it is simply too overpowering for one person to handle the initial encounter at a sensibly-minded level. Maybe I think too much.

On a slightly unrelated note, I've been very frustrated recently (and by recently, I mean in the last few months recently) with people's reactions to discovering my being engaged at 19. I've been most disappointed when people look at me, shrug with a grimace and say something to the affect of, "Have a nice life, I hope everything works out for you." And YES, for goodness sake, I know that not everyone will be as happy about this as I am, but I can't help but blindly hope every single time that people will feel some joy in the same way I do, even though it is humanly impossible. Some reactions (understandably in each case) I've gotten have been anywhere from, "Wow, you're engaged?! That's so wonderful! I'm so happy for you!" to "Gosh, I wish I was engaged..." to "Woah, do you have ANY idea what you're getting yourself into?" to "Why would you do something so foolish?" It's heartbreaking to realize that the people who are most dubious are the ones who have been emotionally broken time and time over again. These are the people I can hardly expect to understand what I have because they have never experienced anything remotely close to how good I have it! (And it could be quite judgemental, not to mention proud, of me to say such things, but I'm speaking from genuine speculation.)

I believe that in striving for a good marriage, one should cleave to one's equal. Or better, you should find someone who esteems you as better than themselves as mutually as you esteem them better than you. It must be an equal relationship as you strive together, iron against iron, sharpening each other into a more beautiful creation than you could ever have endeavored to be on your own. I think that in finding one's own, you first realize how flawed you have lived, how torn and broken and unfinished, until you meet this person who fulfills you, completes you, and makes you whole.

I could never have dreamed I would be as blessed as I am...never. And certainly not by the time I turned nineteen. Last year, at St. John's Orthodox Church Camp 2007, I was preparing to leave for college soon after returning home. It was a huge year for me, but one of the things I finally let go was this inner desire to know who my future husband was going to be. Upon moving to Ohio early in 2007, I'd subconsciously begun wondering (at meeting each and any male even close to my age) if he was The One. That summer, I figured out that what I needed to do most, in order to really let God let "him" find me, was to let go of this restlessness I felt. I succeeded, miraculously. I did. Because little did I know that my (now) fiance was eyeing me in a new light for the first time that summer camp. I couldn't be more grateful that God temporarily blinded me (and especially) during that week so that I missed how Caleb would look at me, or save me for the end (when hugging other campers during camp hugs) so he could linger a second more, or spend more and more time being around me...

If I had known then, I surely would not have been ready for what God was preparing me for. Over the next few months, getting used to college life and keeping up an email correspondence with Caleb, the unignorable feeling started to strengthen, beginning to pulse in the back of my mind, more powerful and noticeable with each coming day I got to know Caleb better -- that gut feeling like he was the one I would inevitably end up with. I don't know quite how to describe it, but it didn't quite surprise me at first because somehow, I'd always known, but never before been aware that I'd known. (Lost any of you yet?)

And also, in a very real way, the feelings I felt at the time were more subdued somehow. I wasn't filled with the feverish excitement that any previous infatuation I'd ever known had consumed me. It was a more....mature feeling. Something I'd never quite experienced before. It was more patient, yet it still pulsed with an undercurrent of burning curiosity. (And by nature, I am quite curious to begin with!) I was dying to know more about him, every chance I could get (which remained governed by the fact that my priorities were forced to be school and practicing at the time, making my leisure time for Caleb Class considerably less lengthy than desirable). Thirsty for knowledge of everything about him, but somehow calm about the timing that the information was revealed to me, and cheered by the fact that (quite obviously) he initiated every advance to discovering more knowledge of me. More and more, as our friendship progressed, the feelings I was just beginning to realize which had always been there were gradually being unearthed, as he dug deeper into the richest soil of my mind with each new question, each new discovery of me, each new fascination. And, as I got to know him better, I was aware that he was breaking down every single wall I had subconsciously and unknowingly built around myself; he crumbled my surrounding fortress, stripping any falseness or facade, leaving me irrivocably exposed and unquestionably me. The real me. So perfect was his pursual that I had no refuge, no warning, but was left to let him know me and love me as the true, vulnerable, absolutely defenseless, but utterly real me. All of me, the good and bad, the sinful and desirable.

In this way, the lesson I began learning then was that in order to be truly loved, one must be truly known. And, likewise, in turn, one must truly know in order to truly love.

And now I can describe as best I can how whole I feel, now I have been found by the one I was created for. In our flaws, I believe (as cliche as it sounds...) that we ARE perfect for one another. We compliment each other. We share common strengths as well as common weaknesses, while also possessing supplimentary weaknesses and strengths. We balance each other out. We share common loves, values, and beliefs.

But the way I feel now is that I have found my place. I feel at home because I know myself through my dearest love. He is home to me. And even when he isn't present, he is always on my mind in some way, mostly in comfort and peace of mind. The knowledge that he is the one for me, and I for him -- this is what I cling to. And now you understand the pain I feel for anyone who cannot see how it is. How I truly know what I'm doing in saying to anyone, "Yes, I am nineteen, yes, I am engaged, yes I am getting married, and no, I will never get divorced like you suspect I will."

How beautiful it is to love and to be loved in loving and being loved by He who made all things!

I don't know how to respond to such people who react in this way. Frustration and defiance and an irrepressible urge to explain to them and force understanding upon them is, shamefully, my first inclination. I just wish that everyone can understand!! But I am learning more and more, that it is a futile wish indeed for any man to see another's life as clearly as he lives it.

I was merely lucky enough to meet the man better than my dreams at an unusually young age. And for that, especially in today's society, one as young as I am is looked upon as naiive and rash, I think. Age really shouldn't have anything to do with it though. The maturity is right. The timing is right. The decison is right. That's all I need. And I am more grateful today than ever that Caleb was able to wait, and that God held him captive to his own blindness so he could not see me in true light until the right time. As Caleb put it, "Any sooner and it would have been illegal for me to even LOOK at you." So, he had to wait to grow a wife! And here I am. Willing and ready, with fear and trembling. Standing to be tried. And challenged to be a good and godly wife.

And that is, to some extent, how I feel being engaged at nineteen...

Epic Ponderings, Mosquito Wars, and a Question of Tomorrow

This post is not going to be normal, just a forewarning. I've had what seems a million jumbled and mismatched thoughts over the course of the last few days, and finally decided that what I needed most was to write and get it all (or mostly) out in a somewhat orderly fashion.

So, beginning with what has been buzzing on the news -- in every day to day conversation, in work places, in homes, and even the hairdresser's -- is, inevitably, the election of America's next President which has finally been decided. For one who should be more active and knowledgable in politics to even begin to think about writing about it, I won't attempt to try and talk about things I don't know. However, on a slightly irrelevent note, I will say that I enjoyed voting for my first time ever (and that it was miraculously quick and easy) and will certainly make every last effort to vote for each election to come. As far as who I voted for, anyone who knows me would guess Republican, and that is right. In short, I'm quite worried about what Barack Obama will bring to the White House. (Better him than Hilary, though . . .) After a lot of table talk around family dinners, spouted opinions of various fellow employees at Ruby Tuesday where I work, and news people's frenzied feedback on television, I've been listening a lot. But I should have been paying attention a long time ago.

Lately, I've been thinking that I just need to make sure I'm up to date on all the issues and pros and cons versus Obama and McCain (although this is now irrelevent), but really, I just should be paying attention to how our country is being run and how it will run, understanding the ways these powerful people across America make decisions every day -- decisions that could affect me more easily than I know. In all honesty, I'm not naturally drawn to politics. I'm just not interested. Plain and simple. But I darn well should be!

Really, all I know is that -- Obama or no Obama -- our country is in for the worst. It's coming, and I can just feel it. Is the end of the world coming? A common debate at work presently. I don't know the answer. No one can. But I do think it's a time where the world is becoming more backwards than ever before. Good is shamed as evil basks in the sun of worldly glory. Kill your unborn babies and save the whales, the trees, the environment, the polar bears. Rename marriage as the union between homosexuals, while spitting upon the definition of true marriage by living with your boyfriend or girlfriend with no second thought as to committing yourselves chastely in the pursuit of marriage. Oh, and don't ever "judge" those who are wallowing in sin because that's being prejudiced and biased and hypocritical (and probably throw racist in there somewhere). Honestly, WHAT is the world coming to?! I'm far from perfect, in that I know I'm proud, I'm lazy, (followed by many other things) and I have struggles, naturally. But is it stupidity or blindness to invite and nurture such evil into not only one's OWN life, but others' as well??

It seems to me that the world's perception of a good, well-taken-care-of family is something like this. The father and mother both have college degrees, the father works a good job, the mother has a nice part-time job and keeps healthy and fit, and their children are raised with "good morals" -- don't smoke, be nice to your siblings, play a good sport, don't date until you're 16, balance a good job and straight A's, pursue a good college education, graduate, get married, etc. etc. These things are all good to strive for (to an extent . . . I still don't think you should put an age to involvement in relationships, for example) but is that ALL anyone should strive for? Certainly any parent would want their children to be socially involved and skilled and intellectually developed and have morals and opinions, but aren't there more important things?

My prayer is that my children learn patience, integrity, honesty, loyalty, compassion, empathy, perseverence, love, faith, thoughtfulness, chastity . . . virtues like this in which to excell when all other opportunities can't seem to be found. Prayer to devote to and grow in. God to turn to in all things -- pain, joy, thankfulness, and need. Knowledge and a thirst for wisdom, in which to learn humility from. Patience, in which to be more easily joyful. Perseverence, in which to learn the rewards of a fight long fought and eventually won and in which to learn the triviality of instant gratification. Empathy, so they can learn love through the pain or struggles of others. These things help a child grow, strengthened with an armor that will protect them against temptations and challenges of the devil. It is so real -- evil -- and I believe that, for parents to successfully arm their child with these weapons, and through rooting out any bad influences throughout his life, that it is a treasure indeed, that child who is nurtured to resist the world whilst living in the world.

So, on a more random note, I have recently been battling a sworn enemy -- the mosquito. Now, no one likes these tiny bloodsucking rascals, but I detest no other insect more because I have sensitive, white skin which turns almost infectious at times when feasted upon by these little fiesty critters. So, imagine my immediate discomfort when, one night last week, I was slipping under my covers, settling in to fall asleep, when I heard the dreaded buzzing of a mosquito in my room. My first thought was "are you kidding me . . ." Reluctantly, I snapped my light on again, replaced my glasses and didn't rest until, fifteen minutes later (yes, fifteen, ridiculously enough), I was a mosquito slayer. Since the weather has been so lovely for early November, our screens get open and shut all day, so that's my hunch as to how they are navigating their way to my room, at least. So far, this has progressed almost every single night since last week and I have ruthlessly slaughtered a total of four mosquitos. If there was an award for the level of vengeance I have acheived in this one week, I would surely win. Alright, now I have unleashed my trivial frustrations about the little buggers and can move on to writing about bigger things.

In order to keep to the title of this particular blog post, the question (somewhat continuing on from what I was writing about before the mosquito interlude) is simply this. How will I raise my children in this world we live in? What greater task is a mother in this age called for than to bring up her children in godly ways in the hope that they will inspire others as an example? What greater terror than to worry if a mother would fail in this quest? To lose one or all of her children to sin? I am not as afraid as I was a year ago, when I was just barely dipping my toe into the world of college, that I will be able to succeed in this. I have God on my side, I have two fantastic families supporting me, and I stand by the man I love, the man I want to grow with for the rest of eternity, and I have unbelievable friends who uphold me and encourage me. How now, could I NOT succeed? I have faith. Courage is still growing, but the faith and the knowledge of direction is clear. I am getting married to the most wonderful Orthodox man, and I will raise an Orthodox family. What more than being a godly wife and mother should a woman strive for?

I used to think that feeling invincible was something like standing on a mountain top with a bow and arrow slung across your back, wind blowing your hair, a knife in your hand, at the pinnacle of the world; now, feeling invincible will feel like having my husband at my side, my children around me, before the face of God.

I am nineteen. I understand this. What do I know? No, seriously, WHAT do I know?? I have hardly any experience in the world, let alone enough knowledge of God and the Orthodox church. I have not wisdom nor humility nor patience. I have talent, and in writing out my thoughts, I can attempt to organize them, but not much more. What do I know? How could one such as me be ready for marriage or having a child in the face of things? I think that if your heart truly craves nothing more, and if you are growing and striving for it, in the process, you will become ready. And that is how I am right now. I am growing to be ready.

So, these are some of those thoughts that have been sprinting across my mind recently, and it just feels so good to write them out. It's a fantastic release for me, and helps me see what I'm thinking in print. Thanks for reading, and as always, feel free to comment. :)

Cheers!

Natalie

Escape

I decided I wasn't done blogging for the night. I simply must tell you about this book I'm reading, entitled Escape (no, not my escape, someone else's) by a woman named Carolyn Jessop who is currently in her late thirties, I believe. It's a biogrophy about her life growing up and living in a "radical polygamist cult." Carolyn Blackmore was a mere eighteen when she became the fourth wife to a fifty-year old man named Merril Jessop. And over the next fifteen years, she bore him eight children.

This book absolutely blows my MIND! Can you imagine?! This community is one where the men controlled everything, their wives, their children, and their lives and were always right about everything? These women, and these wives were (and unfortunately, still are) living in slavery "in the name of God." In being a good wife (being entirely submissive to their husband, raising lots of children, conducting their household with utmost decorum, and being considerate toward their husband's other wives and their children who sometimes lived in the same house), these women either died silently under the unbearable pressure of being "the perfect wife" and couldn't breathe a word (even when their husband beat them, because the men were never seen at fault) or rebelled and paid for it. In humiliation and/or physical or mental agony.

It is a RIVETING book. Scary, sure, but positively mind-blowing! WOW! I would be terrified out of my mind to find out that I would be marrying not only a man I hardly knew and knew only enough to know that he was not one of the kinder husbands in the community, but a man thirty-two years my senior!! Goodness! I've got it extraordinarily good! And apparently, Carolyn Jessop wasn't even lucky enough to get used to the idea either (not that that would have been any better, I suppose) since she was arranged to marry him with only two day's warning.

I am hardly a third of the way through this book and cannot believe how page-turning it is already...I will probably be writing more about this in the posts to come. But I had to share my incredulity at reading this far.

In further explanation, this polygamist cult is run by a "prophet," a man who has "been called to do the work of God" in leading the people of the community in the will of the Lord and shielding them from the "evil outsiders of the world." It's positively maddening to me that these powerful men got away with TERRIBLE things, all in the name of God, you understand. Beat your wives, it will teach them obedience and submission, for they must have sinned against you to deserve such a thing -- it is not uncommon. Marry off your daughters to whomever the prophet assigns them to, whether they love them or not, whether they know them or not -- it is God's will for them and the only way they will get to heaven to follow the prophet's command. Marry more than one wife, for the more you have, the more powerful you appear in the society of men in the community. And for goodness sake, silence any woman who questions your authority or threatens to overthrow your control over your family, for she is dangerous and rebellious.

I'm left completely speechless at times, reading this book (which isn't saying very much, since I read silently). But holy GOODNESS!! I would die in a society like that! Wow...I'm more grateful than ever for the ways in which I was raised, for the wonderful parents who have worked so hard to preserve and nurture the good and innocence every child is born with as I've grown up, and for my family and my childhood. I'm so blessed to not only be hopelessly in love with the man I am promised to marry, but blessed that he found me, that he is my perfectly complimentary better half, and finally and most miraculously, that he loves me more dearly than I will ever know. I am SO blessed....wow. I just pity any woman more than ever who is forced into an arranged marriage...

So that's my schpiel of the day! And it's nearly November (in seven minutes), so I'll close with that.

Cheers!

Natalie

And So, October Bids Us Farewell

I absolutely adore October. And this October was no different -- surely one of the most blessed ones in a long while. In general, fall is ultimately my favorite season. The scent of burning leaves signals the hint of autumn to my nose, as the oranges, yellows and scarlets of fluttering leaves that confetti (yes, it's a verb now) the crisp 55-degree air entertain my eyes with a most picturesque vision of the change in season. Ahhh....now I'm missing the vivid New England autumns... but Cincinnati has quite nice ones too. It's just particularly bright in Connecticut this time of year.

With a very fond farewell to October, I am ready for November since Thanksgiving is simply one of the best holidays imaginable. Our Farison tradition for a good while now is to visit our family in Columbus, OH, and have a big dinner with the Launers (our second-cousins on my dad's side,) finished with a family jam session in the music room, which we kids practice for weeks in advance!

It's unbelievable to me how fast these months are going by. I'm remembering more than ever how things were last year at this time, and feeling nostalgic in some ways and moreoverly grateful I'm living in this now in other ways. It sure has been a growing year, and I would never have imagined that I would be living the life I am today. For instance, I am not at the Cincinnati Conservatory of Music for piano performance anymore, (something that would have shocked me to know, had I been informed last year at this time) I am living at home again, working and saving, and am now engaged to the man I was just beginning to fall in love with last year. I can hardly begin think what the coming year holds...I'm sure it is too exciting for me to handle if I was to be aware of it now!

Isn't it exciting to change? Whatever it is -- your attitude about something, the change of scenery, your mental or physical growth or improvement -- anything really! I find that other people changing around me helps me react in kind and grow as well. In this new change, not noticably significant to some -- the next month to come -- I look forward to the present, to the living in the change and growth of every moment that passes by.

And so, farewell October, and until next year!

Cheers!

Natalie

Introducing . . . the Five Browns LIVE!

Most if not all of you know that classical music, specifically piano and vocal, has been a huge part of my life for the past (apprx.) 12 years in counting. That stated, it was an incredibly lucky opportunity that my dear friend Elesha and I were able to attend a concert of the Five Browns -- five siblings (all gratuated from Julliard School of Music with Bachelor's and Master's degrees) -- playing in Van Wert, OH. The two of us were so excited we could only grin ear to ear at each other by the time we finally got into our seats. And wow...WHAT a concert!!

Of course I remembered to bring everything except my camera, naturally. So, after the performance, I had to resort to using my phone's camera to snap a shot at the siblings signing programs in a neat assembly line. (And yes, both E. and I have signed programs.) Normally, I'm not into that kind of thing, but there is nothing in the history of concert pianists that comes close to the novelty of a family with FIVE concert pianists! And they do play very well -- all highly virtuostic, both together and individually.

The concert itself was halved by an intermission -- each half beginning and ending with arrangements for the five monstrous Steinways together. My personal favorite was the duo that the two brothers, Gregory and Ryan Brown, played called Tarantella (named after, of course, the turantula.) Each Brown has their unique performing style, the three sisters' more visually passionate than the two brothers', but together they moved with the music as one family.

It's mind-boggling to me how not one, not two or three, but all five siblings from a single family can simultaneously be accepted into Julliard, one of the best music schools in the country, and succeed in the narrow road leading to a successful career as a concert pianist. Wow.

It was quite a treat for me, and I know for E. as well. I was afraid to blink for fear of missing something in the split second it took to close my eyes! A fun night indeed, and unthinkably inspiring and motivating.

Alright, I need to go practice.

The Proposal

So today, I thought I'd tell the story of how Caleb proposed, since I've told it many times (all differently, most likely) and to some, not at all! (And for that, I fervently beg forgiveness.)

It is a month and a day exactly that we've been engaged (where does the time go?), on September 20, at King's Island with both of our families (minus the moms, unfortunately.) Now, I had known it was coming, I knew he was going to propose soon, (but didn't know specifically obviously) and I think I'm generally a difficult person to mislead as far as surprises go, but this truly was cleverly done!

We arrived early in the morning to meet up with everyone around the time the gates opened, and wasted no time, starting with the Vortex -- my ultimate favorite! The morning passed quickly, one adrenaline boost after the other, as we exhausted ourselves with laughter, sprinting to water fountains, and running to the next roller coaster.

For those of you who have enjoyed the thrills of King's Island, I'm sure you're familiar with all the roller coasters and rides there. Well, there is one ride that is sort of like bungy jumping on a cable, and it hikes you up and then you drop, swinging like a pendulum (awesome!!!) Around lunch time, right before we went to the cars for our out-of-the-trunk picnic, Caleb suggested that the two of us go on this ride, and I enthusiastically agreed. We planned to go later in the afternoon; and after lunch, a few more coasters, and the deadly DropZone (or DropDead, whatever it was called) -- which I don't believe I will EVER have the stomach to brave again -- Caleb and I got harnessed and ready to fly.

I remember thinking that it was going to be the awesomest, scariest, most brain-dead thing ever (even though I didn't think it could be more stomach-plummeting than DropZone) but I was comforted knowing that I was doing it with Caleb, and it would just be a blast . . .

So, on this ride, you have to climb into a harness which is then attached to the cable (all done by the assistants), and you are hooked up vertically, dropped horizontally, and then gradually pulled up by the cable. Caleb and I were instructed to link arms, and I was flipping out (in a good way) the whole time, and he was just getting more and more excited by the second. The assistant said that when we got to the top, we could unlink our arms, to which I responded under my breath, "Or not . . ." And Caleb just chuckled as we were being pulled up further and further, and then said, "Well, you're gonna have to let go if you want to put this on." And I looked over at him and between his finger and thumb was a ring. A very sparkly, very gorgeous, very blindingly shiny ring. My brain jammed. "You did NOT . . ." was all that came out. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh . . ." was all I could say. I didn't know WHAT to say! "So is that a yeah?" he asked, beaming. "YES," I grinned.

And then the ring was on my finger, and down below, all our family started clapping and cheering and laughing and clicking pictures, and then we were FLYING. When we landed safely back to earth, Caleb turned to me and asked, "So, will you marry me?" And of course, I answered with another fervent "yes."

It was the most glorious moment to start the engagement chapter of our lives with such an exhilarating beginning . . . I think Caleb did an incredible job. I couldn't have been more surprised since he had been misleading me in saying it wouldn't be the King's Island day so that I would stop pestering him about proposing (sorry, Love). But now we are engaged, and have been for a day more than a month, and I am loving this new season of our relationship, learning more and more about each other, deepening our friendship, and preparing to be married!

I'll post some pictures of the ring, as soon as I get my act together and pick up my camera. But until then, here's the story of how he did it.

And that is the beginning of our journey!

October Morning

Have you ever woken up on the most amazing morning and had the feeling like you're going to regret it if you stay in bed a minute longer, but you still do because you're just too comfortable? It was one of those mornings for me. And today was an interesting day. The morning was gorgeous, and, until I got to work and started the day there, perfect.

I really love October mornings, and today was no different as far as fall scenery goes. Perfectly crisp, vividly colorful in every way, this morning presented itself in autumn glory as beautifully as they come. And as much as I wanted to get up and go for a run in the cool weather, naturally, I was too lazy to abandon my cozy bed. Finally, when I did summon the strength to get out of bed, I got ready for work, and headed to Ruby Tuesday, where I work as a server and hostess. This morning, I was serving.

To be entirely honest, I'm a much better hostess than I am a server, but I suppose that's to be expected when one has over a year of hostessing experience next to a few months of waitressing experience. Granted, I think I'm improving and I do enjoy it very much. Today, my first table was a trio of ladies who, after ordering their drinks and lunch, informed me hurriedly that they needed to be in and out in 25 minutes. And that was only the beginning of it. I am puzzled repeatedly as to why people in restaurants can be so impolite, unpleasant, or just plain callous, to get what they want under ridiculous circumstances. There should be etiquette for restaurant guests!

So the anxiety of serving a picky table which was only intentsified by one of my unnecessarily panicked managers -- coupled with the fact that I probably woke up on the wrong side of bed -- did not help me maintain my usually cheery demeanor this morning.

Luckily, work doesn't last forever, and I was soon freed. I do like working at Ruby Tuesday, don't get me wrong, but serving under the eye of this particular manager is rarely stress-free.

The rest of the day left me thinking of how on earth I could make myself a more pleasant person to be around since, quite clearly, moping and complaining about the morning I'd just endured wasn't going to make anybody's day. I read some more of a book (which I just finished tonight, finally) I'd been dragging out, and that helped me get out of my self-absorbed bubble a bit.

I think it's so easy to get wrapped up in one's self, and I really fell into that today. And all because one little thing tipped the balance of my whole ecosystem of security, concern, care, and confidence. That's really what got me thinking. How could I be so fickle, so petty, as to let one little thing bother me so much as to taint the rest of my day with my self pity? Then I thought, ok, wait. What is the root of this? How could it have started? I think it's my pride. When I discover that I'm good at something, I like to stick with it, because I know I'll eventually get praise for it. And I thrive on praise. Honestly, I do. It's a good thing as much as it is bad.

Pride. Something I cling to far too often. Something I am blinded by. And something that continues to trip me over and over again. And I didn't even realize what it was until I started writing this paragraph.

In the sense that I keep doing what I know I'm good at -- being a hostess, greeting people, smiling -- I think improving what you're talented at is a good thing. But I think it's even more impressive to improve and succeed at something you don't take to naturally. For me, it just might be multi-tasking, which is the fundamental skill of being a good server. I like doing a couple things at a time, and can handle doing a lot of things at one time too. But when you're new at dealing with tricky customers and figuring out what you can do (on the spot), that kind of skill on top of everything else is certainly a challenge for me.

So those are a few thoughts I had today. It was a good day. Surely, a day given by God, and I think today's purpose was to humble me and help me realize that all things are from God. ALL things. Even cranky customers.