Rediscovering the Amanda of Yesteryear...

I have rediscovered my love of socializing, adventure, and late-night frivolities, and I have my fiftysomething (don't tell her I told you that) aunt to thank.
I am the kind of girl who easily slips into a routine, and doesn't realize how monotonous she's become or what she's missing.  I have my night in on Mondays, my Panera book discussion on Tuesdays, youth group on Wednesdays, dinner with friends on Thursdays, and laziness/shopping/errands on he weekends.  And it RARELY changes.  I get comfortable in my cozy apartment after a hard day's work, and the thought of going out or trying something new makes my aready weary limbs practically paralyzed.  So I stay in, make an omelet, and watch NCIS reruns and the occasional ten-year-old rom com on cable.  And on a really good night, I'll watch "Chuck," or "Glee."  No, don't pity me-- I like it.  And that's what scares me.

I forgot about my college days, and how I'd go out into the City with friends until the wee hours of morning, not doing traditional college-hoodlum things, ie drinking, carousing, and hooking up, but visiting new places, experiencing new things, and laughing so hard it hurt.  I forgot how much I enjoyed the thrill of late-night socializing among the hoi polloi, and the energy of getting outside my comfort zone.

Then my aunt came to visit.  She had plans.  The fact that the local line dancing bar was closed didn't stop her.  Instead, we went to a little bar with very loud live music and Salsa dancing lessons.  And the next night, we went to a pub with a thatched roof and bad food in the middle of the city.  Dressed up, uncertain, outside my comfort zone, loud noises, lots of people, late nights, crappy food... and it was all so wonderful.  In just two late nights out with friends on the town, I've rediscovered my love of.... life, I guess.  And I'm determined to add a bit more of that so-called life-spice, variety, to my weekly routine.  I need to get a bit more of my old college spirit back, as I realize I'm slowly descending into the depths of boring adulthood.  And I never thought that would happen.

So maybe I lose a few hours of sleep a week.  So maybe I embarrass myself by trying to Salsa while wearing heels that make me tower over the entire dance floor.  So maybe I try some Irish food that makes my stomach feel awkward.  I'm living life, and I'm not wasting my moments watching a ten-year-old rom com every night.  That's got to count for something.

Musings on the Happenings of a Busy Saturday Afteroon...

We were a whirlwind of productivity, a flurry of fruitfulness.  A dynamic duo, a powerful pair-- that was my best friend/coworker and me on Saturday.  We had a goal in mind and a shopping list in hand.  Though the task was daunting, we ourselves remained undaunted, because we'd done this before-- many times. 
First on the list:  JoAnn's for the perfect fabric to function as a yet-to-be-painted backdrop for the all-too upcoming play.  It had to be sturdy, roll-able, the perfect size, and perhaps most importantly, the right price.

And we had no real idea what we were looking for.  In typical "us" fashion, we breezed our way (we do not dawdle, you see) through the front doors and straight to the fabric section, where we promptly told a busy-looking woman what we were looking for.  In rapid-fire, heavily-Greek-accented knowledge, she corralled us over to the right fabric, repeating the measurements over and over aloud.  As she spoke louder and faster as she explained what we'd do, I had to concentrate maybe harder than I've ever concentrated to catch it all.  But I caught it, and I also caught that this fast-talking, bright, Greek fabric woman wasn't concerned about making a buck.  She was enjoying the challenge of finding us the perfect fabric at the lowest price. 

I had to give my bestie a rundown in un-accented English, as the details had flown past her just a bit too fast.  She smiled and relaxed just a bit-- our biggest challenge was complete!  And as our new Greek friend cut the fabric (still repeating the measurements over and over aloud) and made sure we got a 50% off coupon, Bestie was ready to cry with relief.  What a blessing this woman was.  We made sure to fill out a survey card so she would receive little golden scissors on her name badge.  It was the least we could do.

We moved on to the next store, narrowly making the turn and again breezing straight to the Tempera paint aisle and making our exits faster than I may have ever gone in and out of a Michael's in my life.  We piled our bags and selves into the car and laughed.
"I love when we do this!"
"I know-- we're so good at it!"
"Hahaha, we've been doing it since-- we were RAs?  No, since we helped our RA with open houses!"
And then Bestie said, "I can't wait until you have some huge event that I can help you with like this!"  I laughed, but then I thought, I don't care if I ever have some huge event and I need help (though a wedding would be nice).  Because there is simple joy in helping the ones you love succeed, whether it's getting the best deal on spray paint and paint brushes or delivering Advil doses on their wedding day.  When they succeed, I succeed.  I can use my no-nonsense, "get-r-done" (thanks a lot, South, for giving me that phrase) proclivities for the benefit of my friends and family, and it blesses me; more importantly, it pleases the Lord.

So the next time you have a Saturday you'd rather be spending in a REM cycle or catching up on "The Real Housewives of Orange County" (not that I ever want to catch up on that show, ever...), consider blessing a friend with your time and talents, and in turn you may be surprised the joy you experience and the memories you make.

Likes Sands Through the Hourglass...

I'm just going to warn you now that this post is a little odd and emotional.  What can I say-- I've been a little "off" in my blogging as of late.  Probably because I feel just a little "off."  Even so, this is what's on my mind.

I long nostalgically for my childhood with the same feeling I get when one of my favorite somethings is running out.  When I know that, say, my favorite perfume is running low and I can't replace it, I get this melancholy feeling of inevitability that makes me savor every last spray.

I get this same feeling when I look at old family photos or watch my parents' old movies.  I used to worry about the fact that I had this weird sadness while watching their bizarre and hilarious movies.  They were fantastic, but the pit of my stomach would wrench a little, feeling like it's all... running out, like the last sprays of my favorite perfume.  I'd think, If they were that young once, how did they get older so fast, and how fast will the rest go?

Looking back on my childhood, I remember the "feel" of it all-- the comfort of home, the security of family, the hilarity of memories, and the joy of youth.  When I'd get that odd wrenching in my stomach, I used to think that it was regret I felt, regret about the way I treated my parents and brother and regret for what I had and hadn't done.  Maybe that's part of it, but I think more than anything I look back at all the time I had ahead of me, the time I spent with my family, and the opportunities I experienced, and what I feel is a wish for more.  I wish for more time with my family, more daily interaction with my parents and brother, more growing time and learning time in that house.  But I grew up.  I left that house.  It's going too fast, and it's all... running out.  Even now I type with tears-- hard to explain, but very, very real.

This is a feeling I wrestle with, but I couldn't quite pinpoint it until this afternoon, driving home from work.  Side note: what is it about that short drive home that causes me to think so deeply?  The sudden absence of adolescents?  The sudden freedom?  Regardless, I realized today the reason for my nostalgic melancholy... and I found the silver lining, too.

While it's true that time flies and it is all running out, that which is running out (time with loved ones, memories to make, lessons to learn) will exist in endless supply someday in heaven.  The good, enduring things I love about this life and the people in it will continue in heaven, only with a surefire God-focus.  Earthly time is running out, but my eternal life is waiting.  I've got something to look forward to.