this is thanksgiving?

my thanksgiving has looked quite different throughout the years, but the ones in california have been very different. the past 2 years rusty has come out to see me, to spend a few days with me so i would not be alone on thanksgiving.
time in san fran…time with the cousins.
but this year it didn’t work out since i was unsure about my work schedule.

i had no plans until earlier in the week margit facebooked me to ask if faisal and i wanted to come over for thanksgiving. it was an invitation i gladly accepted…
to be around friends,
to be around a family (although not my own),
to have more of a thanksgiving like i was used to (more southern than most around here),
and to be around those whom i enjoy sharing life.

it began as my time with margit usually does…meeting for a workout at runyon.
not quite the normal thanksgiving when most are at home sleeping in or getting the turkey in the oven..but the way the two of us like to spend our days off.
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i was going over to margit’s later in the day but i had to get my pies ready before making my appearance. as i was preparing the sweet potato casserole, i talked to the family…all of them. it began with a phone call to mom to see how her day was progressing. then onto dad’s house where the rest of the family was gathered. such a blessing to be able to talk to everyone in just one call. if just for a minute, it felt like i was actually there…yet not.
rusty had called earlier so shortly after i got off the phone, i checked my voicemail. he had called with a funny message but one that said he missed me.
and i missed him.
i missed mom.
i missed dad and anne.
i missed grandma and ralph.
i missed uncle lamon and aunt grace.
i missed talk around the table.
i missed hitting both houses to spend time with both sides of the family.
i missed all that was familiar.
i missed dressing.
i missed mom’s sweet potato casserole…since i knew the one i was making wouldn’t be like hers.
i missed helping out in the kitchen.
i missed conversation.
i missed no alone time.
i missed a day full of those who love you and you love…those who know you best.

and i realized i was alone.
alone in california.
alone on thanksgiving.
alone in my kitchen.
alone baking the pies for the day.
and i felt alone.
i felt alone even though i would shortly be around people who know me well here.
i was still alone.

yet as soon as i stepped out of my car in la canada, i felt it.
i felt more at home.
i felt i belonged.
i felt loved and wanted.
i felt surrounded by people who love me and i love…and who know me.
i felt welcomed.
i felt a part.

and even though it didn’t look like any other thanksgiving (as if most of mine have been the same), it was a time to give thanks for blessings received and those to come, to be thankful for those surrounding us, and to remember those not in close proximity for which we are thankful.
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my current state.

bed unmade.
car needing an oil change, air in the tires, and a wash…for weeks now.
dad’s birthday present in the backseat for a month now…still unmailed. no birthday card sent for he nor anne.
undeposited check in my purse…weeks old.
no upcoming dental visit to get my permanent crown…no time.
clothes needing to go to the cleaners in my backseat…been there for at least a week now.
bags full of stuff lying around…a few from work, a few from the service at church, another accumulation of randonness.
jackets draped over one chair, and another.
pearls still at the jewelry store awaiting my pick-up.

my current state…
one of unorganization,
things left undone,
so many things to do,
putting it off one more day.
totally not me…but it has become me in this current state.

not worth it.

it’s not worth worrying about the lady who thinks i stained her clothes with my whip cream explosion during the tech class.
it’s not worth worrying that this same lady didn’t like my pie…said it didn’t taste done.
it’s not worth worrying that she disagreed with how i prepared and baked the pie…her reason for it not being done.
it’s not worth worrying about paying for her dry cleaning.
it’s not.
it’s just not worth it.

if i keep telling myself that, maybe i’ll believe it.

what about the other guests who simply laughed it off?
what about the other guests who simply got over it?
what about all the other guests who ate the pie–regardless of her announcement to the class?
what about the other guests who appreciated the tips and thought the class worthwhile?
what about the other guests who simply threw their clothes in the dirty clothes pile when they got home, knowing the whip cream would simply wash out?
what about them?
what about them?

why do i worry over the response of one…and neglect the response of many?
why do i let it occupy my mind and consume my thoughts?
why can’t i let it go?
why can’t i accept the way i handled the situation?
why must i focus on the 1 negative, neglecting 17 positive?

it’s just not worth it.
i’ll keep telling myself.


who has the right to censor what one does…or what one says?
who deems what is appropriate for some and not so for others?
who holds that authority?
and to whom do they weld it?

what can or can’t someone share with others?
and why not…

are others threatened?
are others jealous?
are others intimidated?
do others not agree?
do others simply let their own petty differences come in the way?
do others feel their way is right, neglecting to look at it from another viewpoint?
must others mind another’s business…or do they not have enough of their own?

i am tired of it…
tired of being censored.
tired of censoring others.
tired of others feeling censored.
tired of adults acting otherwise.
tired of petty squabbles.
tired of competition.
tired of being talked about, but not talked to.
tired of being tossed in the middle of other’s games.
tired of being treated this way.
i won’t be.


jena, laura and i planned the service for church…a sort of pre-thanksgiving type of service.
stations to focus on that which we have to be thankful in days past, that which we can hope toward in days to come, and that which we can do with the blessings we have been given.

station 1…things that have to fruition.
take the seeds out of the magnolia pods. each seed is a blessing–either unexpected or anticipated. giving thanks for each.
newness in my life.
just thinking about how my life has changed this past year, these past six months, and even in the past three months.
new job.
new residence.
new relationships.
new life, actually…altogether new life.
and all of it necessitates giving thanks for the newness.

station 2…things yet to come to fruition.
take a seed (or a few) and bury that which has yet to come to pass–the hopes, the longings, that which is anticipated. plant it. watch. wait. offering it up.
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new relationships and what will happen there as i seek to make this new life work, living alongside others. figuring out how these look in my work environment, forming new relationships in my personal life, all the while maintaining those relationships that are no longer in close proximity.

station 3…yielding fruit.
and what do we do with that which we have been given…
that which we have received?
taking the rest of the seeds, deciding how to give them…how they can yield fruit.
still figuring out what this looks like for me personally.
but i do have something to give…myself.
not shrinking back in fear, not living with regrets, not being afraid to open up and show the beauty within, not holding back, not masking who i am…
but being confident in who i am, being confident in who god created me to be and believing what god says about me, being assured of what i bring to the table, believing in myself–knowing i can do much more than i think.

he is…she is.

maybe the shock has worn off for those of you reading my previous blog posting, but i am, in fact, dating someone…and writing to tell about it.

so i thought i should take a brief minute to describe him…or our relationship.
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he thinks KFC is a good meal…she finds KFC disgusting.
he is lactose intolerant…she can’t imagine life without hot chocolate.
he watches movie trailers or tivo’d cop shows in his spare time…she watches sportscenter and listens to espn radio in her spare time.
he eats eggs…she hates them.
he is an AGM in bev hills…she is just a lowly coordinator in santa monica, yet acts otherwise.
he has cluster headaches…she probably gives them to him.
he lives in no ho…she in b hills.
he has a cat…she isn’t such a fan of cats (except for tyson, that is).
he leaves his house an hour+ before work, and still gets there early…she leaves in the nick of time, making it with seconds to spare.
he still isn’t settled in his apartment after 2 years…she was settled in hers after 2 days.
he knows how to work his mac…she is thankful he knows how to work his mac, and hers.
he knows about the medici popes…she knows about snapdragons and cloud shadows.
he would rather see giada…she would rather go to the usc vs. ucla game.

there you have it. and there you have a little description of him, my boyfriend…and us.