I was going to talk about Seattle today.  I was going to tell you how much I love that city, how much I miss it, how much it still feels like home, how much being on the water is necessary to my emotional health and survival, how much my friends mean to me, how much I would love to live there again someday.

But all of that lovely, aching wistfulness has been hijacked by something I was reminded of last night.

I’ve been a member for 8 months, but I don’t know where the bathroom is at 24 Hour Fitness.

I know where the women’s locker room is, and I’ve gone in there looking for a restroom.  But I can’t find it.  I’ve looked everywhere, around every corner.  I’ve found the showers, the sinks, the lockers, the scales, the mirrors.

But I cannot find the toilets.

How?

At this point, I’m too embarrassed to ask.  I mean, it’s too late.  They KNOW me there.  My window of opportunity has passed, and now I’m on my own to to figure this one out.  Godspeed, little gym rat.

But I really do love Seattle.

- your hair just needs to be cut?  Immediately?  Because all of a sudden, and without warning, you are Morticia?

- you wear the black racerback tank with the rainbow graphic eagle on the front?  Because it’s so awesome?

- you eat breakfast at an oatmeal cart?  Because this is Portland?

- you hear a song that changes your life?  Because it gives you the words and the framework to deal with what you couldn’t deal with before?  And it’s called “Closer to the Moon” by Alli Rogers?

- you write a blog in a format that gives the illusion that we’re all on the same page, when really, we’re probably not?  Because not everyone can own a black racerback tank with a rainbow graphic eagle on the front?

How is 7-11 still in business when most of them don’t even have gas pumps?  Are Slurpees really a big enough draw?

How can I lose so much hair every day, and still HAVE so much hair every day?

What does a stress fracture feel like?  Do I have one in each ankle?

Where can we find the world’s greatest mac & cheese?  Should it have lobster in it?  Should it have green chilis in it?  Should it have cream cheese in it?

Why can’t “lackadaisical” mean “twirl in a twirly dress”?

(I so wish “lackadaisical” meant “twirl in a twirly dress.”)

How many times will I go to 3 Crow Bar and Ugly Mugs next week?

Why did I buy that baggy dress at Target last night?

How can almonds have so many calories?

What are you doing this weekend?

Just wondering.

Man.  Yesterday’s post really took it out of me.  It’s not easy talking about my skivvies to the entire Internet.  I could hardly sleep last night, knowing that the words “bikini” and “thong” were just… OUT THERE.  Attached to MY HONORABLE NAME.

When it comes to entertainment value, anything that I say after yesterday’s post is only going to be a let down.  Nothing humiliating, bawdy, or awkward has happened in the last 24 hours – and even though I never set out with this as a goal, it seems as though “humor trumps dignity” is becoming my new creed.

Here’s a question: is this a plus-size model?

I DIDN’T THINK SO EITHER.  Sheesh, Macy’s.  For crying out loud.

Here’s another question: do you call them clementines, cuties, or satsumas?

Speaking of clementines, in another life, I am going to name my children Clementine, Sparrow, and Bluebell.  I can’t do it in THIS life, because what would people think?  But deep down, I love these names.  Maybe I should get some livestock – I could name a cow Bluebell, no questions asked.  When it comes to bovines, you can get away with anything.

Just watch “Food, Inc.”

And… that’s all I’ve got today.

You know how some espoused people, when asked, “How did you know he/she was the right one?” answer, “I just knew”?

What does that MEAN?  What are they (you?) referring to?  And should single people be holding for it – whatever it is?

Or is it just a completely bogus statement, fabricated to assuage the general relationship-befuddlement that seems to expand and swell the further we get from college?

I’m curious.

Well.

What now?

What if life isn’t a checklist?

What if it’s more about (as AnnieBlogs says) the process?

What if it’s more about (as, um, Miley Cyrus says) the climb?

I don’t quite know where to go from here.

As I lay in my bed last night, sweltering and un-asleep, my thoughts bounced back and forth from the mundane to the life-and-death.

“I need a pedicure.”
“It’s so hot.”
“I hope those journalists are released.”
“What if there’s a nuclear war?”
“I can’t forget to buy toothpaste.”
“Cancer is so evil.”
“Who will take care of Wendolyn?”
“Ugh, I hate gnats.”

How can I have the capacity for such a spectrum of considerations?  To swing from orphans and illness to weight loss and shoes?  I mean, when I am made explicitly aware of issues like poverty and starvation and war and death, how can I spare a thought for something as diminutive as the trailer for “New Moon”?  When I think of American women being detained in North Korea, or little Haitians with no one to love them, or a dear friend who is battling a horrific lung cancer, how can I think about vacations and dating and music?

And yet, here I am.  Caught between the temporary and the eternal, the physical and the spiritual – spinning my wheels wondering if I am pursuing the “right” (often selfish) things when I know, deep down, that life is only meaningful if given away.  Carrie Underwood sure got it right: “When you figure out love is all that matters after all, it sure makes everything else seem so small.”

I guess that Jesus said something along those lines, too.

So simple.  So radical.

Did I think I had to go to work today?
Was I pleasantly surprised to learn that I didn’t?
Am I hooked on “Twilight”?
When I read it, do I tell my roommates that I’m “vamping it up”?
Could I live on pizza and wine?
Did I run 6 miles yesterday morning?
Did I want to quit at mile 5?
But did I keep going?
Am I going to run even further next week?
Is my hair growing at warp-speed?
Did I buy a jumper from Wal-Mart for $3?
Am I without a career ambition?
Are my toes and fingers always cold?
Do I need a new car battery?
Do I need a new computer battery?
Am I going to live without both for a while?
Have I made my peace with my baby blue bathroom walls?
Am I wrestling with some really big questions about God and prayer?
Is my blog getting a face-lift soon?
Is there a great new fake news site out there?
At 26-years old, is my favorite question still, “Who do you have a crush on?”

On Saturday, it was my immense honor and privilege to take part in little Ben’s memorial service in Seattle. The entire service was perfect – every aspect, every detail, was so Ben – from the “Finding Nemo” medley played by the small ensemble, to the many references to the movie “Cars,” to his Aunt Kristen’s fabulous purple heels (Ben’s favorite color). The sight of his gorgeous face on the front of the program literally stole my breath – this was a stunning, remarkable child.

How did it come to this?

Sitting in the front row during the service, I could feel the wave of grief from the thousands of people behind me – the sorrow was palpable, thick. And as I stood onstage alongside my beautiful friends Catherine, Sue, and Robyn to sing, I saw the brokenness in the faces of the community, of the family, of Jeff and Carin. So many had hoped, so many had prayed, so many had pleaded with God to be merciful.

What do we do with our unanswered prayers?

It would be impossible for any child to be loved more than Ben, I am sure of it. And in his absence, there is a void, an ache, a sense that nothing will ever be right again.

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true. -Revelation 21:1-5

Come, Lord Jesus, come.

You know how kids are always told to never touch a power line?

How do the birds live?

This was my “maundering pondering” of the morning, as I drove to the airport to fetch Becca. Little Sister is visiting for the weekend; unfortunately, I am at work today, for temping takes no holiday – even on a Nashville-wide “snow day.”

Honestly, people. I saw nary a flake.

But I am happy for my friends of the matriculated variety, who have found themselves with a day void of responsibilities. I am rounding them up, along with my unemployed (okay, SELF-employed) pals, for a lunchtime rendezvous at the Panera near my office on West End.

That’s right, blog stalkers. You know where to find me come 12:20. I’ll be surrounded by my posse, though, so you might have a hard time breaking through the entourage.

In other news, I will be cross-posting on my friend Mark’s running blog with a featured “East Nasty of the Week” write-up. If you are not a Nashvillian or my mother, you’re probably not interested. But if you DO live here in Music City, and want to train for the half-marathon happening in April, the East Nasties are the coolest runners in the city.

But since I’m always last, I don’t know if I count as one of them yet…

Happy weekend to all. Becca and I are ready to show Nashville no mercy. Stay tuned for a full report… and maybe even a video blog?? I know: you expect nothing less.