FlowerDust.net

i’ve made myself sick to my stomach again. a more mentally-induced nausea than anything organic (although, i’m sure the huge antibiotics i’ve been on for a week don’t help much). the only virus in me is the one i choose to think of, dwell on, and allow to trample across the garden of my daydreaminess.

borderline obsessive since my prepubescent days, occasionally one of the million thoughts which fly through my mind on any given day will stick like an unsuspecting bug in the web of a hungry spider. there it remains until it is set free by a samaritan-minded passerby (with a propensity for insect life) or until it’s eaten alive by its eight-legged captor.

throughout history, mankind has attempted to train the mind, capture thoughts, to which success and progress follow. maybe i’m a bit unconventional, but in some way i enjoy twisting and turning in the threads until the last possible moment of escape. not in a gluttonous way, but to appreciate the struggle. to feel suffocated that much longer.

So a few posts ago, I asked for your thoughts on blogging and a lot of you replied to some extent, “It’s what you make it to be.”

Honestly, I don’t know what I want this blog “to be.” A journal? A forum for asking questions and getting people to think and share their opinions? Something to put my design/writing examples on? I don’t know.

So, I am going to be taking a hiatus from posting anything until I can answer that. Can a blog simply be? I’m sure it can. But I’m the kind of girl who lives and thrives in the black and whites, not the greys.

Thanks for reading. Always feel free to email me or comment in the meantime.

I’ve always read about this happening but have never had it happen until now. Five thoughtful paragraphs of blogging goodness gone. Disappeared before my very eyes. Dang. Here’s the abbreviated version.

Chris and I were talking last night about blogging. How even though we can be so real and authentic in what we write, or the manner we write, we still type every word, able to censor in even the most minute, unrecognizable ways. That no matter how hard we strive to be “Me…this is really me” that we aren’t. This is simply a one-dimensional portal for communication.

So, to prove this theory in my case, here is the blogging me.

I’m artsy and creative and I have a very particular rhythm to the way I write. I photoshop practically every photo of myself that you will ever see online. I have a place in my heart for women who struggle with addictions, sexual or otherwise, and since I grew up a PK, I have a passion for seeing the church as Christ sees it, and my heart breaks over the imperfections we so frequently complain about yet seldomly try to improve. I love traveling, and culture, and I’m a little frail since I’ve been sick a few times over the last year. I like girly things like shopping and chocolate and like most people in this same demographic, I was a huge coffee drinker, yet am now beginning to jump on the early-adopter bandwagon of tea drinkers. Always ahead of the curve.

So…are all those things true? Absolutely. I ain’t frontin’ there. But, that is all most of you - 99% of you - will ever see or know. Because that’s all I’ll ever let you see or know. Maybe subconciously, maybe not. But the truth of the matter is I hold the keys to what impression you’ll make of me.

Is blogging a new form of community? Yes. Is it valid? No doubt. Has it been an important part of my life the last few years? Absolutely. But is it everything we make it to be?

I’m not so sure.

Your thoughts?

I found this a worthy cause in my morning internet workout. For more infomation, visit savethepumpkins.org

Daytime TV is only good on pain killers. I actually watched Geraldo today.

I know I am healing. I know it takes time. I am just so bored. And tired.

Good night.

Ow.

My belly button is swollen huge. Purpley reds and yellows. I think my surgeon played a round of golf while he was in there with a nine-iron.

Hello friends. This is PinkHairedGirl letting you know that Anne’s surgery went perfectly! According to her husband Chris, the surgery only lasted 30 minutes and she may even be able to go home TODAY!

Wow… Praise God for keeping our friend Anne safe. I know Anne appreciated your prayers!

**Edit -Hi, everyone. This is Anne! The surgery was a breeze and I know it is because of all you praying peeps out there. I went under around 10am and was awake at 11:15am, and home a little before 3pm.

Have a great weekend!

I am posting my weekend thought a day early since I’ll be quite drugged this weekend. They actually moved my gall bladder surgery to happen at noon 9:30 am Friday (Central Time) instead of the early morning slot I had before. So…prayers are appreciated. For guiding my incredibly young surgeon’s hands, and that my body won’t freak out that it is missing an organ. This week hasn’t been too bad in the pain department up until last night, when I lost some of my self control. I took in about 18g of fat instead of 10g for the day and paid the uncomfortable consequences at bed time.

As far as the weekend thought…

WHY PRAY?

Have a great weekend, and thanks for your prayers. I’ll have Chris update after we get home later Friday.

So, I am reverting to my 1995 ways and falling in love with instant messaging again. Since I have iChat at work, and can’t afford a .mac account (well, I can’t justify the expense), I am pretty much an AIM user. So, I’d love to get your screen name if you also an AIM person. If you use Yahoo or MSN, go ahead and leave your screen name…Don’t worry, I’m not an obsessive IMer. But I figure let’s expand the blogosphere a little more!

(Thanks, Deana).

So, after a few doctors appointments, I finally have an answer. If you’ve been reading for over the last year, you’ll know my gall bladder has been freaky. So, all of the pain and stuff I’ve been experiencing is because he decided to wig out on me again. This time I fight back.

Next Friday, October 20, at 6am, I will be saying goodbye to my gallbladder (whom I have affectionately named “Bladdy”). And I am thinking, for those of you in the DFW area, what could be more fun than a going away party for my gallbladder? So Thursday, October 19 at 8pm, we are going to have a “Bye Bye Bladdy” party at the newest and best cafe in Rockwall, Texas Roast. Please RSVP here or shoot me an email. Woohoo for gallbladder parties!

Prayers of course are appreciated. If you’re a need-to-know kind of person, read here to see what they’ll be doing.

Not to worry, but I’ve been having some girl issues over the last few days that will probably require some surgery. I am supposed to find out today. I know it sounds weird, but if you can pray that they can do the surgery sooner than later that would be great. It has been a two year battle which I have never given into the surgery, but it’s to the point where surgery would be a relief. If you’ve emailed in the last couple of days and I’ve not responded, please forgive me. I haven’t spent a lot of time at the computer and probably won’t for the next few days. I’ll update when I know more. Thanks for your prayers.

The alarm went off at 6am (Chris’ actually went off at 5:58am) and I was not quite ready to drag my lifeless body and big hair (the only time I truly have “Texas hair” is when I awake) off to the gym. Chris rolls over and I feel his breath through aforementioned big hair as he says, “Are we working out today?” to which I crankily reply, “No.”

“Are we working out tomorrow?”

Getting annoyed with these pre-daylight questions, I sigh and say, “I guess.”

I reset my alarm for 6:40am, and shove my face back into my pillow.

Drifting back into REM, I began to dream that I had indeed woken up, late, and rushed off to work, without changing clothes (my mismatched blue Scotland Tshirt and bright pink sleep pants are definitely in for fall.) My hair, still big, a dab of white sulphur face mask still on as I try to keep a pimple at bay. On the way to work, I begin to put my lipstick on (not noticing, I suppose, my state of dishevel) and realize I have 3 big blisters under my left eye. In the car, I turn to Chris and ask if they are noticeable. He says no (he’s probably blinded by my bright sleep pants.) and as we get closer to work, the big blisters begin to burst.

I will stop here and spare you of what that looked like.

Once I get to work, I say I need to go to the doctor to have him look at the blisters, and I end up taking four homeless black children with me.

6:40am didn’t come soon enough.

The moral of the story is this: Stick to your commitments. If you say you’re going to wake up at 6am and work out, do it.

Complacency is defined as a smug or uncritical satisfaction with ones self or one’s achievements. It can often be confused with contentment, and I think that has been a problem of mine as of late.

At Lake Pointe, we are doing a series called Get Fit, which covers physical, financial, mental, and spiritual health. Chris and I found out we were about a week ahead of the series as the week before Wes talked on physical fitness, we had already started working out. (We actually started working out in Scotland since we walked everywhere!) The week before the financial message, we were going through our budget and reorganizing some things.

The last few weeks have been introspective for me for a few reasons. One, I realized by working out, I feel a heck of a lot better than when I sleep in. Working out with Chris is more fun and a little competitive. I’ve even lost 4-5ish pounds since coming back from Scotland. Which made me realize I need to lose another 15, and hopefully by Thanksgiving. That’s the goal.

I am thinking of joining the Big Butt Challenge even though it already started. The only hesitation is I am the only girl, and like most women, I am not proud of the fact I have put on 20+lbs since my wedding day. I really don’t want to advertise my current weight to the masses. But who knows? Maybe that’s what I need. What do you think?

Another big thing for us is money. Renting in the Dallas area is expensive! We figured out our budget and after all bills were paid except food and gas, we still supposedly have between $1000-$1500 a month extra. Yet if you spend any time with us, we are always broke. It is always paycheck to paycheck. So, after analyzing some of our bank statements, we realize most of that money goes to eating out and fancy coffee.

We made a rule - only 1 lunch out a week, 1 dinner out a week, and 3 coffee dates a week. It’s been tough this week, but today I realized how good about it I felt. I’m honoring my husband by doing it, our money, and we should be able to give so much more away, and pay off our debt so much faster.

Anyway, I am done playing this game. The game where I “deserve” to eat out, buy crap I don’t need, and be lazy because my life as an American is so “stressful.” Done!

What do YOU need to start hatin?

Does anyone else find irony in the Christian term “outreach?”

Allow me to use it in a sentence.

“Please invite all your friends to come to the concert here at the church next Friday. It’s our monthly outreach event.”

So, you might notice the huge button with the weird looking bride & groom cake toppers. I’ve been studying my stats the last few months and the number one thing people search for other than typing in “flowerdust” is “emotional affair” - so…I thought I would make it easier for those people to find the conversation on Emotional Affairs. If you’re new in reading this, I invite you to check it out and post your thoughts.

Yeah, you remember the whole tithing kiosk joke below right?

Click the pic for a good read. What do you think??