the christmas spirit

as the christmas spirit rolls around, the news gears up for its coverage of the holiday season. all over the world, people line up (and even shoot each other) over playstation threes. on black friday, or better yet one minute after midnight, people tumbled over each other in the malls to get their hands on the latest christmas gadgets and gifts.

while i happened to be at concord mills at the precise minute it opened with my boyfriend and my sister, unlike majority of the shoppers, i left my pajamas tucked away in my drawers and kept my conscious intact. as lines wrapped around banana and people sat up chairs in front of circuit city, i thought one thing, "how on earth is this the christmas spirit?"

right before the holiday season officially kicked off, the major retail stores debated over their choice of holiday phrase for the year. some returned to the ever-so-bold phrase of "merry christmas" while others chose to engulf every age, gender and nationality with "happy holidays." personally, my thoughts on this are simple: its christmas in every language... lets just enjoy it in every way.

whether you say feliz navidad, merry christmas or joyeux noel the fact of the matter is its a holiday. you might celebrate other holidays or none at all, but whats the point of taking away the joy of the holiday for the ones who do like it?

the other day, i was in walmart checking out with my boyfriend after buying some completely random items. as i was leaving, i grabbed my bags and simply said "merry christmas." the elderly lady at the checkout looked quite shocked at my bold statement (though may i point out walmart selected merry christmas as its phrase to bring in the big bucks this year), then smiled and said it back very faintly as if she didnt want anyone to know.

personally, i find it all quite sad.

as we put up decorations, push and shove over the technologies and bake cookies, i think all too often we forget the joy of sharing christmas spirit. as i made lunch today for everyone, i turned on the radio to listen to some christmas carols. immediately after recognizing the song, with a smile on my face i started dancing around the kitchen singing "santa claus is coming to town."

carter, the two-year-old immediately began clapping his hands and spinning around ... trying his best to keep up with me. and little sweet jack, coming to life every day, looked up from his crawl and started to rock back in forth.

it wasnt much -- but the point got across. in everyday things during the holiday season, we can show christmas spirit. sure the gifts are nice -- but even more so important than the toy that will soon become a coaster, why not truly enjoy the spirit of christmas this year?

spend it with your family.
decorate the tree.
bake cookies.
listen to christmas carols and dance like a child.

but above all, spread love.

so whether you choose a phrase or become a scrooge -- just know that should you cross me within the next month -- ill be the one saying "merry christmas" all the while dancing to the carols playing in my head.

the family event

sunday night my church celebrated fall with a festival in our church's parking lot. while our church is quite large and known in the charlotte area, i have to admit i was skeptical, not expecting many people in attendance. much to my shock, when i arrived with my sister, boyfriend and toddler cousin chance i saw way more people filling up the lot than i had during some college tailgatings.

instantly our church has tranformed its paved paradise into a hay-filled, siren blowing, sound electrifying hub for the evening. as different ministries set up tents, a massive line filled with people waiting on free barbecue and various talented groups taking center stage to entertain the hyped crowd on this chilly evening, i eagerly pushed my stroller through the red sea in a mere attempt to locate my crazy family.

now if any of you know my family -- you should know this isnt nearly as hard to do as it is finding waldo. as im pushing the stroller around, looking for someone i recognize -- instantly i hear my name being beckoned across the crowd. "LINDSAY -- WE'RE OVER HERE!" i turn and look and surely enough see my mother, aunt, uncle, and three cousins standing in the middle of the free line.

just where i expected.

"where's everyone else?" i asked, not being a fan of the southern treat.
"nanny and the babies are over there sitting. more are running around. some are playing games."

of course, we would be the only family enjoying the "family event" in different parts of the parking lot. as i passed by the jeff gordon race car (not without first rolling my eyes), i spotted my grandmother making friends with even more crazy church people. keenly known for her ability to talk to a complete stranger in the supermarket, for nanny a church-wide event with people just sitting around talking was like a child's christmas morning.

and of course, the story wouldn't be complete without my looney mother interpretting "bring your own blankets and chairs" to mean bring the tri-fold neon beach chairs to the event. so as i kicked the brakes on the stroller, i somehow managed to prop myself down on the pink beach chair without first killing myself or better yet, falling and miserably embarassing myself for the rest of my life.

behind me, nanny was talking about god to her newfound friends, asking them the questions that would make any twenty-something roll their eyes.

"no nanny, heaven does not have EVERYONE in it."
"yes nanny, you are a good person and you love the Lord."
"um, nanny i dont know what pastor thinks about that."

in my head, i continue to answer her questions or even more think to myself "dont turn around and identify her new friends -- you might know them too." just pretend you dont exist. (did i mention i was sitting on a beach chair, in a church parking lot, in charlotte, one night while it was forty degrees outside? yes, good way of not exisiting i know.)

then just as i think the night couldnt possibly get any more embarassing, along comes my pastor and his wife who are pretty much mini-celebrities in our city and royalty at our own church. as they simply are trying to greet people and welcome them to the event, my insane family decides to yell (with an emphasis on yell) at them as if they just saw jayz walking down rodeo drive.

oh god, now not only am in in a pink beach chair with my grandmother making a fool of herself to total strangers, but my pastor and his wife have just been called over to our area to chat. if there could have been a lightning bolt to come down and hit me from the sky -- this would have been the opportune moment.

as my only two sources of sanity branch off to go seek coffee and perhaps more normal people to entertain themselves with, i attempt my very own getaway. carefully prying myself from my sandless chair, i attempted to go walk around alone for a few minutes to catch-up with my sanity.

just as i was about twenty yards away from the family chaos, up came running my five-year-old cousin natalie, tears running down her eyes. "whats the matter," i asked.

"mike left me. he was waiting in line with me, nathan and zach and i got lost," she said scared out of her mind.
"its ok, youre with me now."

just as i took her hand, up came zach the other lost boy.
"where have you been, zach?" i questioned his far-more mature self.
"natalie ran off. i went to get her and lost mike."
(keep in mind, mike is supposed to be the responsible adult here watching the three youngins.)

now with two kids in hand and my sanity on its way to the moon, i walked them both with me to find something better to do. on the way, we ran into my older cousin and her husband. "zach, we've been looking for you," jenny said. one kiddo down, i took natalie with me.

a few minutes later -- lauren came up to me frantically saying "have you seen natalie? we cant find her. mike's freaking out!" behind me, little blue eyes peaks out.

even minutes later, my cousin loses her toddler sons bookbag and her friend loses her purse. seconds later, both are recovered as zach and jenny and me and natalie reunite with the rest of the family.

i prop nathan and natalie together up on the blue beach chair, give chance the toddler a kiss goodbye as his mom strolled him home for the night and looked around to see all the family sitting around drinking coffee, sitting and not speaking a word as the choir performed on the stage.

for a minute it was complete silence as i looked around the collective group of all ages, iq levels and sanity marks. then i nudged mom and lauren who were sitting in the other neon beach chairs and smiled.

"what are you smiling about?" they both asked, apparently shocked that someone of my caliber remembered how to smile.
"oh nothing much. just something." i said. "you know, we may be a crazy family. but one things for sure ... we sure do take care of one another."

and for me, that was exactly the sanity i needed.

glamorous

its seems within this past week, all things have been pointing to one thing -- glamour. this week, my new glamour magazine came wrapped in the mail proudly welcoming fall fashion, love tips and another split-second workout. at church sunday morning, my beloved pastor spoke on remembering your roots. he told the story of moses, how he was placed in a basket and shipped down the river in a mother's mere attempt to avoid pharoahs slaying.

moses was rescued by pharoahs daughter and lived a lavish life of the top-of-the-line luxury. yet, at the end of it all -- moses left everything he had to go back to his roots ... his people. for moses, the important thing wasnt all the fancy he had lying around him, but taking his people and leading them into the promiseland. my pastors message was simple, yet it stayed with me all week long ... whenever you get caught up in the glamorous, remember where you came from. remember your roots. remember the days when you had nothing, but had everything.

then throughout work this week, i have watched as glamour has unfolded on the left in the right. everyday, i drive through a beautiful neighborhood full of brand-new exquiste houses of three and four stories. i pass by expensive cars and drive carefully by little children cruising on expensive powered wheels. inside, i spend my day providing care for two beautiful children while their parents slave away in the workfield to create a better life for themselves.

now dont get me wrong.
follow my point throughly.

i have no problem with nice cars and big houses or even working fulltime to make a living. yet all around me there are signs of people saying 'i do this so i can provide this.' whether its a bigger house, a better car, more toys .. theres always something that people are constantly trying to work toward in order to gain something greater. and somewhere along the way, they pass too quickly by the life they are aiming so high to establish.

look at me. i kicked my butt everyday in school for the past seventeen years to make myself something. i went to a well-known university and studied for four years with an honor title to create a better life for myself. i was told that i needed to grow up to be the best i could be. that whatever i dreamed of, i could be. that whatever i wanted, i could become.

but somewhere along that path --
dreams became cars.
goals became exotic vacations.
aspirations became mansions.

and somewhere along the way --
it happened to more people than me.

everyday i watch as carter and jack grow up before my eyes. not yet a mother, i have witnessed the first tooth, the first roll-over, the first baby food, the first crawl, the first stand. and while i could not be more proud and honored to be in this position, it breaks my heart everyday when the parents come home and i tell them the good news of their childrens daily accomplishments and they say "oh, i wish i would have been here to see that."

yet, here is sit ... paycheck to paycheck. writing down bills in my registery and writing a tithe check praying that god will once again come through. i dont own a big house, a fancy car or take exotic vacations. my nights on the town consist of dinner and a movie. and if im lucky, a high school football game to cheer on my churchs youth.

sometimes i cry.
sometimes i wonder.
sometimes i pray.

why, oh lord is this my life?
why do i sit here and wonder where my next miracle is going to come from, while others slave away trying to acquire even more?

but then, i hear it -- "dont forget where youve come from."
the glamorous lifestyle may be fun for a while -- but no matter where you are on the financial or social ladder, there are always going to be people still climbing, trying to just get ahead. for me, as i drove home on this friday afternoon blasting my new and fabulous fergie cd, i turned on number six, glamorous.

"we're flying first class up in the sky,
we're poppin' champagne, living the life,
in the fast lane,
oh, but i won't change by the glamorous,
oh, the flossy flossy."

i hate to say it, but its my theme song now. if in one week, so many signs can point to one thing -- then for me, this one thing must be true. while the glamour is nice, the life your living is even greater.

i wont change by the glamorous.

this is me.

confession. while i am not a stay-at-home mother, i am a stay-at-home mom who watches dr. phil religiously. now, while some of you are sitting there laughing thinking, "what in the world has lindsay turned into since graduation" the rest of you are nodding your heads saying, "i know .. i loooooove dr. phil."

gone are my days of waking up late, doing homework at the last minute and going out for cocktails with my girlfriends on a weeknight ... here are my days waking up to folgers in my cup, driving eighty on the freeway and dancing to 'between the lions' theme song in my car. fear not, i have not traded in my car for a mini-van, but i have been caught numerous times leading sing-a-long in my car to kid tunes.

aside from the fact that i have taken my 21st year of life and turned the liquor bottles into formula, the often repetitive words of dr. phil continue to haunt me daily. "in whatever you do ... whoever you marry ... whatever you become ... don't lose yourself."

sounds simple right?
sounds quite elementary i know.

yet, the truth of the matter is all too often we lose ourselves in something we aim to become, dream to be or simply overlook the transition at all. for me, it was subtle at first -- but then took a dramatic turn. five months ago, if i would have been sitting anywhere where young moms could be overheard i woud have cringed at the conversation.

"oh you should see little tommy. he just learned how to sit up."
"really? well little janey did the funniest thing the other day."
"oh thats nothing. little robbie learned his abc's. ...backwards."

wherever i would be in that moment i would look at whomever i was with and simply state, "that will never be me. i refuse to go out with my girlfriends and compare my child."

no, i haven't become that annoying -- but now, instead of cringing when i overhear that dreaded happy mom conversation, instead of thinking "you moron," i simply find myself thinking about my life.

baby jack and young carter have definitely become my adopted children, but somewhere along the way -- they also become the downfall of myself. you see, i have realized over these few short months -- that if you can't leave work at the door of your home, you will quickly erase the meaning of the word home. while what you do during your nine to five is equally as important as what you do with the rest of your days .. it cannot be the only thing you do.

for me, waking up and watching children has begun to consume me. even on the weekends, i find myself toting children around with the same theme song being blasted from my speakers. three days ago, the parents that i work for took a vacation, a vacation from their world ... leaving me behind to carry on.

in that moment, it hit me.
i was the one in need of a vacation.

and that didn't mean i needed to jump on a plane and head to a foreign destination -- it simply meant a vacation in order to rediscover myself. to put into action the words of dr. phil that echo throughout my home every weekday at ten a.m.

last night, i ignored my cell phone and went into off broadway shoes. thirty minutes later, i walked out with a hole in my pocket and two fabulous pairs of shoes in tote. twenty minutes later, i had two more bags in hand (and yes, two more pairs of shoes) compliments of southpark mall.

as i exited the mall, sipping my starbucks frappuccino child-free, i realized this is me. i am the young woman who loves to splurge on shoes and go home and fret about how broke i am. i am the young woman who loves to drink coffee while cruising with her windows down on the open road, listening to the top forty. i am the young woman who takes pleasure in a saturday morning without any commitments. i am the young woman who loves to cringe at people who have lifestyles different than mine.

yes, this is me.

this morning, i took dr. phils words one step farther as i drove to the local carwash and with my hair pulled back, soffee shorts on and makeupless face, i began to wash my car in the company of ... adults. as i cleaned the remains of two messy children in the beating sun, i noticed a young guy vaccumming his car in front of me. eventually, the guy started carrying on conversation with me. just before he left, he came up to me and did the bold... "um, hey listen ... do you have a phone number or something that i might be able to get?"

"i'm sorry, but i have a boyfriend," i simply stated.
"oh well, i had to try," he said with a smile.
"yeh, i understand completely," i said with a smile.

in that moment with sweat beating down my face -- a stranger recognized the real me.
and perhaps, if he liked the real me ... then i could learn to like her again too.

explanationless

these days, my life is so far from youth i have a hard time talking to friends on the phone since my mere social life is but a dream. these days, my social life consists of dr.phil and relating to the newlywed couples who just cant seem to get it together. instead of chatting with my girlfriends over cocktails, i wipe snot off of two little boys who are more close to me than just about anyone.

while my life seems to be semi-stressed these days over finaces, my career choices and my long-term future ... i still seem to find time to note the simple, precious things in life. last week, jack officially learned how to crawl. the only sad thing about this situation (minus the fact that he only crawled to reach an empty box of juicy juice on the floor) is that i, his nanny, witnessed his first crawling. tears of joy flooded my eyes as my little precious figured out how to take his rocking back in forth into a full-fledged motion forward. thanks to modern technology, i recorded the action on my handy-dandy razor phone and sent the flix to his parents busy out in the workforce.

to add to his successes ... this week, jack learned how to sit-up. i left him on his faithful white comforter for just a split second the other morning so that i could go grab something out of the next room. seconds later when i returned, jack was sitting upward, hands flapping in the air -- laughing. he was so proud of himself.

another witnessed first and another strength demonstrated.

yet while jack and i have become incredibly close this week (with him even crying as i leave the room), i have to become slightly bothered by his displays of strengths and my apparent weaknesses. within a few short weeks, my other half and i have made the decision to redirect his career paths -- as he left behind car sales to enter the world of real estate. now faced with two rents on a struggling income, we are faced with whats its really like to live in the real world.

previously, whenever i felt depressed or stressed about life (finances included), i went out and bought a pair of shoes to make me feel better about my windling bank account. yes, i know it makes no sense to spend money when you are worried about having none. yet this specific form of psychology worked with perfection every time. now, with bills up to my ears and the worry that i will never make it to the top of the world, i have exchanged my pairs of shoes for dreams of one day seeing all my hard work paid off.

unfortunately, this time around i have no inspiring anecedotes or reality lessons to explain my rut. nor do i possess wise words of widsom of how to overcome the nearest trial. instead, this time around i am a mere writer expressing what its like to be without.

without shoes.
without credit card free lives.
without strength.

instead, i am a young graduate not packing my bags to head back to school after a summer filled with fun. i am a young woman learning how to survive in this new world -- where the world is unkind, the decisions made are unforgiving and the road is narrow.

perhaps all too often we expect things to be great. we assume everything will work out when we say so. and while i am a firm believer in faith, and i believe that everything happens for a reason -- perhaps we all too often forget that even in our weakness, there is reason.

today, i am weak. i am broken. i am stressed.
yet today, i will continue to move forward. continue to turn my rocking into motion and continue to smile for the little precious angels who need me the most.

for even in my weakness, life goes on.
and i cannot help but anticipate the day when my weakness will explain its reason.

baby steps

its been a little over two months since i graduated and left behind the four years that changed my life. yet, in two short months, my life has been changed by two precious children and one enormous leap forward. i remember graduation fondly -- how i stood in the sweat with my closest friends using our caps as fans as we preciously ticked away the minutes til officially saying goodbye. i remember taking the pictures and often find myself still sitting and watching my screen saver that displays them everyday when i walk away from my computer. and most of all, i remember standing in the driveway of my girlfriends house with my four owen girls wrapped around me, tears flowing down.

yet as i drove away from that striking purple door and that city painted in red, i entered a new chapter in a world all-too-familiar with a newfound confidence and a piece of paper seemingly displaying a lack of significance. most presently, i spend my days from sun up to sun down in the company of two-year old carter and six-month old jack. when i first started care providing for these children, jack was a mere four months and did not even know what it meant to smile. he was a fraile child with big eyes and a completely different perspective on life. carter, a little more aged and far more immersed in his world, was a two-year old willing to copy anything and everything, yet stand firm in his belief that he was the only important person that existed in the world.

from mornings of playhouse disney with the doodlebops and the wiggles; from lunches of hot dogs and tater tots; from afternoon naps to evening book reading, carter, jack and i quickly realized we were going to become more than friends. now, two months later -- i have successfully taught carter the lyrics to "no more monkeys jumping on the bed" as well as "ten little indians" and have weaned him off of guzzling a gallon of milk each day to learning to appreciate water. but jack, now jack is even more special to me. in two months, i have seen this young infant begin his first food -- which i quickly discovered he is nor ever will be a fan of green vegetables (and neither are my clothes), he is ready to practice sitting up, and even more desires to crawl. but most dear to my heart -- he smiles when i walk in the room.

six months small, yet in his world -- i am there.

in two short months, jack has taught me one of the most valuable lessons of all times -- to look at eyes through an infant. and to learn how to take baby steps again in life. in every decision. in every moment. everyday.

so often we find ourselves searching for answers in a world covered with self help books, dr. phil spin off shows and more helplines than letters in the alphabet to create. we are conditioned to believe that if we are lives are not filled to the brim than we are wasting our time. we have evolved into a people that says simple is boring, practice takes too long and only the end result matters. jack teaches otherwise.

to jack, nothing matters more than being held, loved and cared for. if he is feed, clean and awake, he is the sweetest baby in the world and could not be happier than sitting on your lap and playing peek-a-boo. he has taught me to slow down; not to rush through life -- through finding a job, gaining a career, getting married, starting a family. jack has so beautifully demonstrated to me the importance of just being in the moment, being loved and being slower than we tend to be.

everyday i practice crawling with jack. i place him in the middle of the room and sit a few scoots behind him. just enough for him to feel close to me, but far enough he cant reach out and grab me. at first, he will just sit there, propped up on all fours and stare at me in complete discontent, wondering why i would have abandoned him so. a few seconds go by, and he will look down, realizing he is no longer laying on his back or his tummy and will begin to rock anxiously back and forth. and with that, he starts to smile and laugh.

so far, he hasnt gotten farther than that -- but to jack -- it is satisfaction in itself. he is proud that he can literally take baby steps to accomplishing a task. and when hes ready, we both know he'll start to crawl.

some days i question my recent choices -- why did i decide to leave my girlfriends to become a makeshift mother in the city that i grew up in? how will this effect me in twenty years? will people look down on me because i have placed my journalistic talents aside my love for children? have i done the right thing? will i fail if i try something else?

and just when i begin to tear up and wonder ... i look down and see jack.

rocking back and forth.

left behind

ive been trying to formulate a breathtaking blog for quite some time now, but truth is nothing shakespearian has come to mind. a little over a month ago, bored in class like usual i drew a countdown on my calendar toward graduation. opening it yesterday during an exam study session, i saw that i was down to day ten. getting so caught up in redirecting bills, reorganizing boxes, redistributing business and remembering a semesters worth of school work ... i forgot about being in the moment.

in ten days, my life as i know it changes. there will be no more flights of harrelson hall. the preachers in the brickyard soon fade away. my home away from home soon becomes someone elses home. late night visits with friends soon will require logistics and planning. pizza at three am will be denied easy access.

in ten days, my class ring will be flipped. holding up the wolfpack sign will be a memory, yet having a new meaning attached. wearing red no longer entitles me to free food. the student section at games are no longer valid. grades no longer matter. gpas fade into the wind.

in ten days, the next time i appear in the two greatest coliseums in the world will not be to cheer on my team -- but to be recognized as a member of the pack.

i cant explain the feelings attached with graduation, with leaving behind four years of fabulous friends and saying goodbye to the only life you have ever known to begin a new one. as i sit here writing this, i am reminded of writing the senior story for my high school yearbook. without a clue what to write, i pondered the four years at central and walked the entire school through the evolution of a student on their way to becoming an alumni. its funny to think that back then, i thought high school was the end of life as i knew it -- i thought that the change would be something unbearable.

and now, four years later and four years older, that feeling is back stronger than ever.

in ten days, i move on and leave behind seventeen years of education to set up home in a land far away. raleigh becomes the city of the past, the city where i learned who i was and became what i am. children i watched grow up without me being there to watch. friends stay behind to start careers, finish school and continue their evolution.

in ten days, ill acquire a new address. ill gain a roommate. ill be reunited with my family. ill be closer to my relationship. ill become paid for my work. ill become the new face for two precious children. ill reestablish my relationship with my church. ill attend baseball games of lifelong friends. ill buy a new car. ill learn new shortcuts in the city. ill start a new chapter.

but ...

today, ill call a friend for lunch. ill stop by a familiar desk where two friends will be working just to waste time and gossip. ill pour myself a drink after a long day. ill attend a study session in the infamous harrelson hall one last time. ill walk the brickyard and see the spot where gary calls women whores and boys easy access. ill see students wearing red on the way to get pizza on hillsbourough street. ill drive by the house of my freshmen family and smile just knowing they are right down the road. ill kick my shoes off at the door and lay on the couch of my quiet, cozy apartment. ill wait on phonecalls to catch up with friends, family and loves far away. ill stare at the empty boxes in my living room and say 'maybe tomorow.' ill plan the weekend. ill sit on my porch and play with the neighbors and their puppy. ill fight with my mailbox as i desperately try to get mail out. ill drive my faithful paintless explorer around, windows down as if its a brand new range rover. ill sit in winston hall as i conversate with friends, students and teachers. ill purchase a cap and gown. ill sell back boooks and buy something irrelevant with the money. ill procrastinate studying to run errands with a friend. ill walk around cary crossroads just because i can. ill smile when i see the wolfpack sign. ill be worried about grades. ill be frantic over my gpa. ill drive past the rbc center and think of the best games in the world that happen there. ill walk past reynolds and be reminded of the great basketball that occured within its walls. ill put my ring on facing me.

today, ill be in the moment.

pancake batter

yesterday, in a mere attempt to satisfy my cravings, i left work at my public relations firm to frantically drive all around cary in pursuit of locating the makings for the perfect chocolate chip pancakes. seven dollars and forty-four cents later, with semi-sweet milk chocolate chips, bisquick and a gallon of skim milk in tote, i was on my way home to become ms. emeril. as i walked to my faithless explorer, i had a quick revelation to check the box. perhaps i was lacking an ingredient. heaven forbid, should i have this revelation BEFORE i left the grocery store -- but regardless, i checked the box.

milk. check.
water. check.
sugar. check.
eggs. ummmm...

standing in the parking lot of the grocery, wallet and groceries in hand, i literally debated going back in the store to pick up eggs. knowing that i can only buy eggs in six or a dozen (and needing only two), i could not justify walking back in the store to purchase a necessary item for my dinner. instead of spending thirty eight cent and five minutes on retracing my steps, i voluntarily (and yet, with a hint of frustration) walked to my car, unlocked the doors and drove home as if this mishap never took place.

why didn't i just go buy the eggs?

was it for the mere fact that i knew i would never use the remaining four? was it my uncanny ability to be cheap in moments of necessity, but forget all the rules when i fall in love with a new pair of shoes that by no means i can afford? or perhaps, was it my lack of wilingness to return to the same place i just left as if to announce "i am a moron -- i forgot the eggs!"

as i ventured home to cook my chocolate chip eggless pancakes, i immediately discover ... i am no emeril. as batter is flung all over the counter because no need for one to use measuring cups, i struggle at getting the batter at the exact consistency for perfect pancakes. then despite my cheap behavior when it comes to purchasing appliances over accessories, my poor-excuse of a "stickfree" frying pan has to suffice as my medium temperatured griddle. when the pam spray turns brown because the pan is too hot, i begin to think "maybe this isn't going to work."

reluctantly, my pursuit for the perfect pancake continues. in the back of my head i hear my mom say, "wait until the pancake is bubbly ... then, quickly flip it." as i pour the batter into the brown sprayed pam, the once spoon-sized pancake becomes a massive glob on the pan. to make matters even worse, there are so many chocolate chips within this one pancake that bubbles do not have any room to form. and sadly, still yet, my only spatula is one that consists of holes.

tell me emeril -- how do you flip a batter-filled mass when your appliance is full of holes?

determined to no end, i continue my pancake-craze until three lobsided and twisted pancakes are safely on a plate. by then, i decide to call it quits. i place saranwrap over the remaining batter and chuck it in the fridge. disappointed and frustrated with my lack of ability to make the perfect pancake, i buttered my three sad friends, drenched them with syrup and ate their sorrows away.

but in the end, i learned this. no matter how much i tried to create the perfect pancake, there was always room for imperfection. yet through their imperfections, i discovered their liking. when i didn't have any eggs, i felt that i had already failed my mission. truth is, pancakes taste the exact same with or without eggs. and if i would have had eggs, i wouldn't have been able to save the remaining batter and eat it with a spoon as i blog right now. and while i may try five thousand times or five times to create the perfect, round, bubbly pancake ... i am no master. but my pancakes are pancakes regardless of their perfection or their lack of it. in the end ... no matter how imperfect, dishelved or disfunctional your pancake may be ... its still taste just the way you imagined it.

for some reason, i have an intuition that someone may need to hear this next part. and perhaps that someone is none other than myself. but what i have learned from my terrible pancake experience (and thus far, these past few months in life) is that youre never going to reach perfection. whether you are striving for an impossible goal or a level of perfection that you set for yourself, you are always going to fall short of your victory line. and the reason is simple: it's because we change and we adapt, but we forget to change and adapt our goals.

about a month ago, i was accepted to attend an internship program in new york city. "the job of my dreams." i thought i would be on the next flight to nyc, but after sitting and thinking about it over and over -- i decided to let the program go. "how could you have given up on your dream?" everyone said, and i first i thought maybe i had. but in reality, over the course of my life and these few short months where everything has changed, i have changed. i have established myself in a committed relationship, decided to relocate to a different city and begun a career that i never knew existed. but all the while i changed, i thought my dream had stayed the same. while i envisoned living my dream job, i forgot to notice my reality. and i had forgotten that one day long ago, i dreamed of being loved and doing something that i loved. and that's when i realized i was not going to follow a dream when i was already living one.

by no means, is my life perfect. but all too often do i try to make it. i carry a calendar around in sheer desperation of scheduling everything just right and think that i plan life to the T. but the moment that something rocks my world, i think i am a failure. yet, like my pancakes -- with or without eggs, lobsided or round -- we're always going to have something that makes us unique. theres always going to be something that we're good at, something that we're not, and something that we're willing to learn. but just because we aren't perfect, doesn't mean that we shouldn't ever try.

and just because we try and it's not perfect ... doesn't mean we have failed.

because pancake batter tastes great, no matter how it's cooked or even if it's cooked at all.

four seasons

strappy sandals begin their prowl. tanktops peak out from behind their once-worn collared shirts. sunglasses become a necessity, not an accessory. rainbows once again become the staple. windows roll down to let the springtime breeze in as the heat fades away from within. dogwoods bloom and tulips ripen to the freshest shade.

springtime is in the air.

without a doubt, spring is my favorite season. i love the scent of blooming flowers and the sight of budding trees almost more than i do admiring my freshly manicured toes peaking out from my trendy new shoes. it is a season of happiness, where the world awakens from the dead as if to say "everything is going to be better this time around." it is a season of renewal, where that which once faded away begins again with glee.

as i sit this pre-spring afternoon in mcalisters deli, outside the sun is shining and the trees are waking. inside, the guests sit and talk with one another -- some business professionals, others just friends making casual conversation. young moms are doing their daily rountine, toting around young children while their older ones are still being schooled. yet, everyone seems happy. in line, people are laughing. beside me, an older man dons his new cell phone to his equally aged counterparts. as the symphony blares through his ringtone, he beams as he informs them the notion of a ringtone no longer being a simple ring. as if he is the inventor of the modified ringtone himself, he prides in his "new" technology. and directly across from me, watching my every move, sit alex and allison -- two ever-so-precious blonde hair, blue eyes twins. as they sit across from one another eating their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and sipping their hi-c, they continue to look over here and smile. "helloooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" they call out as if i am their long-lost friend. when i respond, their faces light up.

a stranger has just become a friend.

casually, we continue to make funny gestures and simple conversation throughout their entire lunch. as i sit and type, i watch their little faces discover their world around them. new to life still, you can tell they are taking everything in as if they are invincible and the world is perfect. another stranger walks by, and little alex stares up at him with his big blue eyes and turns his head with every step of the man. then catching eye contact with his sister, they both begin to chuckle.

four years old and three feet small, these two children encompass everything i wish i could still be. innocent, where everything you do it is not your fault. lovable, where the only thing anyone can do is look at you and smile. childish, where eye contact with another makes you laugh and smile. precious, where imperfections become your perfection. fragile, where your heart can be broken and mended within a split second. unaware, where everything you see and do is completely new. impressionable, where your mind is still formulating its capacity. simple, where being in the moment is the only moment you know exists.

instead, i sit here this afternoon at the crossroads of my life. within nine short weeks, i will close the life that i have only known to begin one that i have never even tasted. like a young adult caught up in love, confused by society and tainted by the world, my mind battles constantly the decisions soon to come. instead of living in the moment, rising with the morning sun and waking with the day, i live wondering whether the next step is really the best one to take. two steps forward seems to lead to four steps backward. a decision made crushes another dream. a dream followed pierces reality.

at what point do we stop living for the life we want to live in the moment we have?

for alex and allison, looking up at the things unknown brought laughter to their lives. for me, looking up at the things unknown brings fear, anxiety and worry. yet like seasons, all things will come together. trees bloom, leaves fall, seeds are planted, trees root. in the now, the life i once knew has fallen away in shades of orange, red and yellow and been buried underneath the tall oak trees. yet, as i look outside, small buds begin to emerge, the daffodils begin to bloom and life again, goes on.

as alex and allison jump down from their booster seats and grab their mom's hand, they both look back over at me and say good-bye. "see you next time," alex says as he turns his head and waves good-bye. again, their eyes catch one another's and they laugh as they walk away.

one day, they too will grow-up and find this world unbearable. they will lose the simpleness and fragileness they once obtained, to find themselves searching for answers amongst their tainted, impressionable lives. my hope for them is but one simple wish: that they too, would look to the seasons and see the sight of the blooming trees.

as their life begins ... so i wait on mine to blossom.

growing up ... but not really

my first semester at nc state, i foolishly enrolled in seventeen hours. for some unknown reason, no one ever warned me that i would have seven more semesters to play around with scheduling ... i didn't HAVE to get all those classes in the FIRST semester. i vividly remember walking all over campus with fifteen minutes in between each lecture. from one end of the campus to the other end -- from hillsbourough street to western blvd -- my high-heeled, dressed-to-the-t self (this was freshman year, remember) walked everywhere. map and schedule always in hand of course.

but it wasn't so bad. in this one experimental year, i learned what type of clouds cause thunderstorms (weather and climate), the choreography of a bee's dance (bees and beekeeping) ... and even the street addresss where my chancellor resided (first year college seminar). but somehow, amid all these bs classes, i had homework. granted, even though i was taking pre-calculus for the third year in a row (thanks for re-naming it a thousand times, morons!), i was worn out come may.

now, it's post-january and i'm still worn out. seven semesters have long come and gone, and my list of random classes has grown extensively. the inevitable job searching process has begun and with only thirteen more weeks to go -- classes just seem to be "getting in my way." what the average senior would call senioritis -- i can only consider freshmen - repeat.

cue renaissance to waterloo.
cue principles of sociology.
cue insects and people.

all three for freshmen.
all three from the bottom of the catalog todem-pole.
all three with my name on the roster.

while i may have been foolish in the beginning to enroll in seventeen hours, i unintentionally became a genius at the end. luckily for me, i had three general education classes left to take -- and in order to get the "most out of my education," i happily enrolled in these.

history starts off my day, and by about the 100th time my teacher says "well, i can't exactly say because i wasn't alive then..." i begin to tune him out. really profesor? you mean to tell me you weren't alive during the 12th century? then why on earth did i sign-up for this class!

false advertisement.
out came sodoku. (for those of you who haven't caught on to this phenomenon, it's a japanese number game that doesn't require ANY math. just patience and skill. numbers and no math -- i'm so there!)

next, it's back to my world of the three famous halls -- cadwell, tompkins and winston. my home away from home -- where i have spent my past three and a half years, "learning." this time around, it's for sociology, aka -- the most comon sense stuff you'll ever be tested on ... in ... your ... life.

i'm twenty-one years old, and today my teacher threatened our collegiate class with a pop quiz because no one would give her the definition of culture.

are you kidding me?
(as for me, i don't speak in classes)

bring on the pop quiz teach!
sodoku, take two.

finally, it's time for insects and people -- the last class of the day, and the weirdest by far. today, after my professor led a demonstration on moths (explaining their tongues or something weird), he told us that this particular moth had not learned how to fly yet, or at least not very well.

the moth was perched on his finger and she just kept flapping her wings up and down. nearly seconds later, she miraculously learned how to fly and took off around the classroom full of 140 students. up and down the stadium seating she buzzed for the next five minutes. girls were screaming, boys were flapping their baseball caps in the air trying to be heros and save the day and others were taking cover under notebooks, jackets and bags.

all the while my professor laughed.
i have to admit, while i wasn't screaming, i sure wasn't excited that my pro. was enjoying this display of moth vs. human either. and even though the moth was causing a stir in a classroom full of "intellectual young adults," my professor attempted to continue lecturing.

sorry man, but if a moth is coming toward my head full force, i don't care how many legs a hissing cockroach has.
(by the way, he passed those around too.)

sodoku (with a slight fear that roaches and moths were going to crawl and land on me) ... take three.

sometimes, we make great decisions. we attend the weird lectures, participate in the crazy demonstrations and take the multiple choice tests. but in the end, it's all for an easy A. however, during this freshmen-repeat, i'm quickly learning this: other times, we make crazy decisions. we sign up for classes thinking they'll be a breeze (and while they still may be) ... they scare us half-to death.

but hey -- at least now before i kill your roach, i'll identify it.

when it all goes incredibly wrong

six days ago, i began what i had hoped to be another fabulous internship.
thirty minutes ago, i officially quit.

if there's one thing i've learned in life it's this ... things aren't always what they seem to be. my expectations for working at a classy, up-beat and fashion-centered magazine this spring were simple. i wanted exposure, i craved technique. instead, on the very first day i became the voicemail system and the official hands between the postman and the mail. call it an unpaid experience all you want, i call it a trap.

my thoughts on an internship are basic. students want to gain experience in their field to better equip themselves for the real world. if we didn't, we would simply take bees and beekeeping or underwater basketweaving instead. if my vision of real world is at all muddy when i imagine actually getting paid for secretarioral services, then i pray for the first person who interviews me come springtime. all too often, employers take advantage of students who are looking for something to do, but all too often do they forget our academic capability tied tightly with street smarts.

forgive me for actually wanting to do something of greater self-worth than licking 100 envelopes and alphabetizing your ad index, but some of us are just dedicated. we accept challenges, thrive on deadlines and work best under pressure.

i had a friend tell me once, "it's not that you work better when you procrastinate, you just have never not procrastinated." for a minute, i thought this person was the next einstein, how brillant of a revelation. but as i was sitting at my desk last week at this God-forsaken office, i glanced up at the clock to realize only 30 minutes of my makeshift hell had elapsed.

and everything i needed to do was complete.
procrastination bypassed.
boredom surpassed.

ok, so maybe he wasn't the next einstein...
but i wasn't about to be the next free-secretary either.

anyone need an intern?

who am i?

there's a sensitive subject that the entire united states population can relate to and yet no one is seemingly comfortable with. i haven't tackled it thus far in my writings because it's something that i am personally bothered by more and more each day. what i am referring to is racism, a subject than when these six letters drop, immediately the gloves go up and nostrils flare. but, do we really understand the subject or are we constantly defending something many of us strongly claim isn't even an issue?

in the light of the movie crash, a movie i cannot praise with words but will forever wish for audiences to view ... my life seems to have taken its own crash. forgive me for being blunt today, forgive me for getting ready to bare a subject matter that i have seemingly concealed for quite sometime. my hope is after reading today's writing, that you will either reconsider some of your views or support me on mine. perchance you can't level with me, no hard feelings if i never hear from you again.

for as long as i can remember, literally, i was the little girl who wasn't afraid to play with or associate with people of different races than myself. obviously, being white and growing up in the early 80s, i wasn't faced with the segregation issues of my grandparents or parents, but that doesn't mean i didn't face them in some respect throughout my childhood. though my life wasn't the extravagance of a civil rights section in a history book, i grew up in the middle of a highly prejudice extended family. i was taught from my parents that all people were to be loved, but my extended family demonstrated differently. yet, race to me always just seemed to be another box you check, like the infamous "single" one. when i was younger, my black friends were simply that - friends. we hung out, we went out ... we danced to music, we shopped together. nothing was ever seemingly different, nothing ever needed explanation.

unfortunately, everything changes sooner or later.

as i put away childish things, i picked up on worldy ideals. i learned that racism was a heavy issue in a country that likes to classify themselves as "the melting pot," a place for all peoples. i quickly saw first hand how a small unborn bi-racial baby could be the ultimate division of a strong family foundation. and while pop culture and celebrities started to embrace the notion of inter-racial couples and equality amongst racial divisions, the average person still pounded his/her beliefs with a closed mind. today, as many of you know but all too many of you don't, i have been spending ample time with a guy who is black. i like to refer to him as "tall, dark and handsome" which he encompasses all three so well. he's gonna either kill me or love me when he reads this, but it's time i get it off my mind. to be completely, whole-heartedly honest with all of you, i never in a million years forsaw the relationship that i have in my life now. i never planned to be the one trying to make an inter-racial relationship work, i never dreamed of being the girl always defending her life. perhaps that's a big part of the reason many of you don't know about this relationship - because deep-down, people always wanted acceptance, yet fear rejection.

it was true when i first found interest in guys long ago and later learned that the "you're just too good for me" excuse was nothing but a self-defense mechanism for a fear of rejection. today, i hope that those very boys who are using those lines will take the leap of faith in hope that it may just work out. even still, it's a hard battle and it's constant. to find acceptance in a world that is so over-populated with fabulous and great people, it's hard to be the one who sticks out like a sore thumb. trust me, a white girl seen with a black guy - no matter how fashionable, beautiful, wonderful they may be - is still a sore thumb. and because of this, i have debated giving up on quite possibly what is the best thing to ever happen to me. all because the issue of racism is too strong, the fear of rejection is evident and the need for acceptance is thriving.

does racism still exist? absolutely. try watching crash with someone of a different race - it will make you want to either hug him/her or run for the nearest exit after the first ten minutes. will racism ever be erased? i doubt it. the history books recorded it - people will continue to pass it down, impending their beliefs on others forever. but can we live in a racist world and still get along? absolutely. at least that's what i'm finally learning.

perhaps, this is the reason hitch, love actually and save the last dance have always been top of my movie list ... because i feel i can relate to the couples there. but, only in save the last dance is there ever the racial issue - for hitch and love actually, it was just love. my hope is that one day, bi-racial, inter-racial, whatever love will be considered that, just love. we watch remember the titans and think "man, i hate this race stuff," but then we are first to judge when something in our personal life just isn't right. trust me, i've experienced the looks, i've heard the comments, i've defended my decisions. but, i'm tired of doing all of that.

this morning, i watched dr. phil which was ironically about inter-racial issues. there was a white new mother on the show who was married to a black man. all during their dating, marriage and pregnancy, the girl's father would have nothing to do with them because of the race card. but somehow (by the grace of God i'd like to think), the father went to the birth of his granddaughter. when she was born he said, "i don't know what my problem was before, she is the most beautiful little girl i have ever laid my eyes upon." even for my very own mom, getting used to the black/white idea was challenging. while not racist herself, she wasn't sure how popular the idea was. now, everyday it seems i get another phone call or message saying "did you know that so and so is married to a black guy?" or something of the like. and as annoying as it may seem, i love her for it. because mom too, is not only aware of the issue but experiencing the change of heart.

many of you may not agree, many of you may not relate - but the truth is, i have to write about it because i'm living it. and while i didn't plan it, i never plan anything in my life well. a great, great friend told me when i first broke the news to her, "you know what linds, NOTHING in your life has ever been easy. why should this?" i don't know where this relationship will go with this particular guy, but i do know that he is the greatest thing that i've got right now. he supports me and he cares for me. and the thought of giving up on him for the acceptance of a few is a notion i can't even believe i considered choosing. while i know that with every relationship comes challenges, with this one there obviously are going to be many more than desired. yet, at some point you have to stop defending and start living.

and from this point on, this is what i plan to do.

and as mary j. blige says, "you can either hate it or love it..."