Answered Prayers

Apparently I should have miniature emotional meltdowns on public forums more often, because less than 24 hours after I posted that last melodramatic, sappy little diddy on here I received a phone call to schedule an interview.  Which then led to another interview.  Which then led to a job (!!!) that I start tomorrow.

Due to the nature of this job, I can't really give many details on here.

(And I promise I'm not dealing drugs.  That's totally what that sounds like.)

All I can say is that I am gainfully employed, full time, by a wonderful boss and every day of my working life will be challenging and different and hectic and full of adventure.

I've said it once, I've said it a million times:

God is good.  All the time.

Amen.

Place in This World

Ever feel like you're "spinning your wheels?"  This is me today.  And yesterday.  And... Oh okay I'll stop.

It's not that I'm not happy.  I'm quite happy and optimistic and looking forward because that's just what I do.

But some days it just feels like I'm running in a circle, like a gerbil on a wheel.  Hoping to jump off at some point, into some unknown "job," (which, hopefully, desperately, at some point will pay me some cash-money) where I will be satisfied and challenged and fulfilled and content.

Am I dreaming too big here?  If your answer is "yes," kindly refrain from telling me that.  As I'm sure you've noticed, I like to live in my happy dream world where things are pretty and manicured and sunshine-y.

So, as I've mentioned before, my life is reflected in the minds of some radio DJ who controls my Sirius XM radio.  Lately, I've been hearing certain songs A LOT.  A few that stand out are "Baby Girl" by Sugarland, "A Place in This World" by Taylor Swift and "Party Rock Anthem."

We're not going to talk about that last one, because I'm convinced my car is rigged with some system that tells the radio when that abysmal track is on and then repeatedly slams the melody into my brain.  I've said it once and I'll say it again- PLEASE, for the love, stop playing club music before 8 pm.

Sorry, I digress.  The point of this whole spiel is that "Baby Girl" is defining my life in literal ways, "Please Mom and Dad, please send money, I'm so broke that it ain't funny..."

Tell me about it sister.

But T-Swift just goes and does it again when I hear you singing about your place in this world.  First of all, I'd like to tell you something, Swifty.  I think you've found your place, and it involves playing to sold-out arenas and winning awards and traveling the world and being adored and tweeting entirely too often.  Sorry.  But I think your place is pretty darn established.

Which leaves me to beg... How does one go about finding their place?  If anyone has advice, I'd welcome it with open arms.

Until that point, I'm just going to keep singing this song and hoping that some miraculous "place" will appear out of the mist with big flashing lights around it.

Just so I don't miss it.

Here are the lyrics, if you'd like to commiserate with me.

A Place In This World"

I don't know what I want, so don't ask me
Cause I'm still trying to figure it out
Don't know what's down this road, I'm just walking
Trying to see through the rain coming down
Even though I'm not the only one
Who feels the way I do

[Chorus:]

I'm alone, on my own, and that's all I know
I'll be strong, I'll be wrong, oh but life goes on
I'm just a girl, trying to find a place in
This world

Got the radio on, my old blue jeans
And I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve
Feeling lucky today, got the sunshine
Could you tell me what more do I need
And tomorrow's just a mystery, oh yeah
But that's ok

[Repeat Chorus]

Maybe I'm just a girl on a mission
But I'm ready to fly

[Repeat Chorus] 

Thing I've Learned from the Real World

This list could really go on and on, chronicling my various trials and tribulations with things such as "budgeting" and parking tickets, and Yogurtland addictions.

(These are real world issues that plague real world people everywhere.  What a mess.)

But today, I'm focusing on a lesson of the savory variety.  I learned quickly when I moved into an apartment that I need salsa in my life.  I'm a much happier person when I can grab a few Tostitos and salsa and be on my way.  Call it the Texas coming out in me, call it whatever, it is what it is.  And let me tell you one other thing I've learned... Pace picante sauce should never in a million years be considered "salsa."  It is sinful and should be destroyed, one bottle at a time.

So along with my every-other-week habit of making my own iced coffee (homemade coffee helps with the budgeting issue) I also whip up a batch of salsa about every we... Er, dates aren't important.  Let's not focus on how much of this stuff I'm consuming.

Here's the easy breezy directions for the best homemade salsa a California transplant could ask for.

On the shopping list:

2 cans of Rotel, drained (preferrably one original and one Mexican, but if you live in California and they don't know the glory of Rotel, just two)
1 large Hot House Tomato (diced)
1 jalapeno (seeded if you're a weenie, full fledged if you can take the heat)
1 handful of cilantro

Throw it all in a blender and take a spin. Don't puree, use a lower setting to retain some chunkiness if you're into that kind of thing.  I'm not a fan of perfectly smooth salsa.

Voila! You've just made easy breezy salsa that is a sure crowd pleaser.

You won't be disappointed- I promise.

(Sorry I don't own pretty dishes to photograph in.  The disposable tupperware is going to have to do for now.  Yep, you guessed it, budgeting.)

Also- another tip for girls who have just moved in and don't have all the right kitchen tools:

A bobby pin substitutes nicely for a chip clip to keep things nice and fresh.

Works like a charm.


And a final thought for this scattered entry... A very important lesson I've learned from the real world.  Curtains do wonders for stark white apartment walls.  Especially if they are a lovely blue that lets in just enough sunshine.

We started here...

and within one hour, one dangerously incorrectly attached curtain rod, and a few table-standing near accidents later...

We had this.

So homey, right?


Sincerely,

Learning to be a Big Girl

One Less Lonely Girl

I met the Biebs tonight.

Er, I saw the Biebs tonight, less than a car length away from me.

I have had a few requests for details- so here you go.

I have to say, in all of my celebrity encounters thus far, I have stayed calm and cool and acted like I don't give a pretty penny that I frequently see them in People magazine. Ha.

That all changed tonight.  I was attending my regular Sunday night family dinner with my dear Chi-O buddy and her fam, and as my friend and I were pulling into the gate, a taupe colored Mercedes was coming out.  We politely reversed a bit, and the other car waved us through.

And then the world stopped, because sitting in the passenger seat of that Mercedes was the one and only Biebs.

He looked like this, wearing the loony nerd glasses and all.  And sitting casually there, just minding his own business.

And a strange thing happened... It took me a moment to realize who he was.  I saw him, and thought to myself, "Oh, there's Justin Bieber."

And then a split-second later, I was slapping my friend's arm and hyperventilating and whipping out my phone at lightening speed in order to call my 13 year old sister and make her drool with jealousy.

(It worked, by the way.)

It took me a good five minutes to contain myself to the point that I could participate in normal social conversation.  And I kept finding myself smiling at the memory.

Pathetic? Perhaps.  Star struck? Definitely.

Ashamed?

Never say never.

Famous People I've Met

I started a word document on my computer today under that title.  I'm afraid that one day I'll be old and gray and people will say to me, "Lindsay, when you were fun and adventuresome and lived in LA did you meet any movie stars?" And then I want to be able to say to them, "As a matter of fact, I met George Clooney before he was George Clooney." Obviously it won't be George Clooney, but you get the point.

And let me tell you- today I've done pretty well.  I knew it was going to be a good day when I woke up with an email from an Oscar winning actress whose name I won't mention here wanting to "meet with" me.  I don't know what we're meeting about exactly, but I'm pumped.

Then into my office marched Ashley Greene of Twilight fame,

Aimee Teegarden of Friday Night Lights fame, (I could die happy)

and last but not least, Leven Rambin.

You don't know her yet, but you will.  You see, her character Glimmer is going to be killed off in the biggest deal movie of the year, next year.  If you don't know that I'm talking about the Hunger Games yet, do me a favor and quit reading my blog.

Kidding!  But really, go buy the series.  Or else.

Okay, I'll play along.  Or else you'll feel like a loon when the whole world is freaking out over this movie in a few short months and you are wondering what they are hungry for.

Er... I guess that would be blood.  But not in the vampire way! Ah, these teen romance-action novels are getting all confused in my head.

Just go read it.

Over and out.

Dear John Doozy

I just caught the last 30 minutes or so of the film rendition of "Dear John," and though I shed a few tears, (if you know me at all you know it doesn't take much) I was reminded of how much I despise the movie version of this extraordinary book.

**SPOILER ALERT: If you've been hiding under a rock and haven't read/seen the film and plan on seeing it at some point in the future, you should stop reading.

Okay, here's the sitch.  I read this book a couple of years ago and fell in deep, deep love with it.  I cried my way through the last 5 pages or so and lost more than a few hours of sleep over it.  But in the best way possible.

You see, the thing that is rare and moving and real about "Dear John," book, is that John and Savannah make decisions and chose separate paths and have to live with their decisions.  There isn't some constructed, perfect ending where hearts are healed and lives are perfect and things just "work out."

Who would want to read that anyway?

I don't know why I like to make myself cry like this.

Okay, here is the last snippet of the book.  Hang on...

Okay, I just ran down to my car to grab the book.  I knew I'd been meaning to unload that for the last 2 months.

If you're still reading, I assume you know that Savannah and John broke up when he was away at war, and she married Tim, who is now sick with cancer.  John sells  his dad's coin collection in order to help with his treatment, the treatment is successful and Tim is in remission.

John goes to Savannah's house and, spying on her, sees her happy with her new family.  He also sees as she wanders out late at night to look at the moon, which is significant to their relationship for some reason that I can't remember at the moment.

And here are the absolute last, final words of the novel...

"She pauses then and crosses her arms, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one has followed her.  Finally, she seems to relax.  And then I feel as if I'm witnessing a miracle, as ever so slowly she raises her face toward the moon.  I watch her drink in the sight, sensing the flood of memories she's unleashed and wanting nothing more than to let her know I'm here.  But instead, I stay where I am and stare up at the moon as well.  And for the briefest instant, it almost feels like we are together again."
-Nicholas Sparks

Ugh.

I'm having trouble containing myself right now...

She loves him! And he loves her! And it should be so easy, but it's just not.  She is married, and he made a choice to stay away at war and she made a choice to marry someone else, but, oh heavens, she still loves John.  Is this incredibly heartbreaking and tragic to anyone else or am I just losing my mind?

I am telling you, this ending haunted me for days.  And I waited oh-so-anxiously for my sob-fest at the theatre when the film came out and I watched Channing Tatum's lovely face watching Amanda Seyfried's face looking at the moon and yearning for things that could not be.

And you know what Hollywood did to me?  Well, they screwed me over by creating an ending in which the sick and second-best husband dies, making room for John and Savannah to conveniently meet up at a coffee shop later on and hug and oh of course they are going to end up together now.

Bologna.

I can't even think about how infuriated it makes me that they turned all this heartbreak and longing into one perfect, ribbon-wrapped gift box of a film.  Ugh.

Sometimes I wish Hollywood would just let me cry some more.

Challenge Schmallenge

I'm over this whole 30 Day Challenge Business.

Can you tell?  Here's the deal.  I'm not excited about the posts that are supposed to be next on my agenda.  I don't feel like I can be clever or charming or funny using these ideas as inspiration.  And the truth is that I think of things to talk about every day that would be more fun than this challenge junk.

So I'm giving up.  No, I'm seceding from the challenge.  (How can I word this so that I don't sound like a flake?)

And I hope in this pursuit to be more interesting than this challenge was allowing me to be.

So I'm back! Unbound by restrictions or obligations.

First thing I want to tell you about is my apartment.  I am obsessed with it and it gets cuter by the day.

(If you want to see the live-action view, let me know.  I'm really into Skype lately.)

Here's what has happened lately:

We have a whole living area.  I'm currently too busy using the couch to take a photo, so you'll just have to wait on that one.  Soon we will even have curtains.  Imagine that.

But wait!  We have an entire dining area.  It was created in the minds of my sweet rooms and myself, and came together piece by piece.  It is really quite astounding that it turned out so beautiful.

Yes, those are palm trees in the background.  Welcome to California.

A little tidbit about us- we are in love with the zebra rug.  In. Love. Last night I had an incident with some slightly-burning bacon wrapped jalapenos, and for a moment when I though we might have to evacuate, I remember thinking, "We have to take the rug."  It is of the upmost importance to us.

Also, I am now a home improvement expert.

I found stools for free, they were ugly, I made them... less ugly.

That's the best I can do.

We started here.

U-G-L-Y you ain't got no alibi, you ugly.  AND this is the picture without the other mismatched stool.

So I bought some spray paint and went to work.

Well, at least the legs are the same color.

Then I surveyed the damage...

Word to the wise: When spray painting something close to the ground, be sure to cover the entire surface area.  Otherwise you will end up with a geometric design on your balcony.  Oops.

Then I got to work with the staple gun.

And made up how to staple fabric onto a chair.  I think next time I would be a bit more careful.  Or maybe Google it.

Here's why.  I ended up with this.

Do me a favor and don't look too closely at the draping of the fabric.  And for heaven's sake, if you come visit, please, for the love, don't turn the chairs upside down.

It's like a war zone.  I am no pro with a staple gun.

But I can bake.

It's a good thing, too, because we had a certified party last night.  All in honor of Bachelor Pad.

Did I really just type that?  What is this world coming to?