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.

This morning here at work, there are four repairmen walking in and out of the lobby – in and out, in and out – carrying ladders, tool kits, wire, and generally, looking confused. I have no idea what they’re doing – but they keep climbing ladders and removing the ceiling tiles and disappearing from the waist up into the space above, yelling back down to their comrades on the ground. They were here yesterday, too.

The glass doors in the lobby swing one way. Since they have probably used these doors 80 times in the last hour, one would think that they would know which side to push on, and which side to pull. But they don’t. Every single time that they walk up to the door, they do the wrong thing: push when they should pull, or pull when they should push. And a few minutes ago, one of the men ran straight into the door.

Who could blame him? Glass doors: now you don’t see them, now you don’t.

I feel agitated. These men have invaded my domain, my private sanctuary, and are disrupting my peace and quiet (and, let’s be honest: nail painting) with their… clanking. Hammering. Shuffling. And whenever they pull when they should push, or push when they should pull, I fight the urge to roll my eyes and yell, “IT’S NOT THAT HARD.”

Why do we make the same mistakes over and over again? We know better. We’ve been there before. We’ve experienced the consequences. And yet, we still mess up. We struggle with the same thing we struggled with yesterday, and the day before, and the day before. We fail to choose the right path – we forget the fallout.

Sometimes, I start to think that my struggles are hopeless – that I will never rise above, that things will never change. I push when I should pull, and pull when I should push. I know the right answer – I know the TRUTH – but I allow myself to be distracted just enough to trip. To throw my weight in the wrong direction. To run smack into the wall.

To change our behavior and our way of thinking, it takes awareness. Vigilance. Dedication. Attention.

There are many areas of my life that I could apply this to. But this morning, I am coming back to the same issue that I have struggled with year-in and year-out: the relentless issue of “beauty.” I believe lies. I buy into the world. I trust the media, and the voices in my head. And since such a large percentage of the female population feels the same way, there is no escaping it. Will it ever change?

Yesterday, my beautiful friend Emily posed the questions:

Am I willing to be the odd-woman-out and love the shell that God has given me to inhabit while on this earth? Am I willing to talk nicely to myself, in private and in public? Am I willing to ruthlessly edit the messages that I receive through media – cancel magazine subscriptions and delete shows from my DVR, if that is what it takes? Am I willing to let others compliment me and receive those kind words as truth? Am I willing to train my thoughts to dwell on the positive and stop comparing, stop chastising, stop chasing?

THIS is what it looks like. This is awareness. Vigilance. Dedication. Attention. And I want to be willing.

Push and pull, push and pull. Maybe one day I’ll get it right.

It is 2003. I am at a Seattle coffee shop with the two boys I used to nanny for, then 3 and 5; I am ordering them hot chocolates. We find a Magic 8 ball by the cash register.

Annie: OH YOU GUYS! Check this out – you shake it and ask it a question, and it tells you the answer.

Big Brother (enthusiastically): Cool! Will I be a spy someday? … YES!

Little Brother (shake shake shake, then holding the ball close to his face, softly whispers): I love you.

Big Brother: Hey, that’s not a question. Here, let me try – am I going to die soon? Not likely. AWESOME!

Little Brother (shake shake shake, thinking hard, then): I wish I had a squirrel club.

Big Brother (now angry): NO. That is NOT a question. A question has to have an answer.

Little Brother (thinking hard, finally the light going on, then tentatively asking): Um… is mouses bad?

- – - – - – - -

BONUS FEATURE:
When I took them home that day, I thought it would be cool to continue with the same future-predicting theme. So I took two blocks from their wooden block set, and used a Sharpie to write different answers on each side – sort of a dice they could roll for answers. Little Brother immediately took his and ran to his room.

And when I cracked the door to check on him, he was standing against the wall, and with one giant, dramatic roll of the dice across the floor, he yelled, “DO YOU LIKE EAGLES?”

- – - – - – - -

Happy weekend. I wish I had a squirrel club, too.

- To go to bed every night by 10pm?
- To attempt to eat from the food pyramid?
- To create a budget?
- To have kids I used to babysit for getting engaged?
- To have friends getting married?
- To have friends getting divorced?
- To have friends getting boob jobs?
- To have a retirement account?
- To buy age-defying makeup?
- To experience an existential crisis?
- To worry – really worry – about the world, the environment, and the government?
- To refer to myself as a “woman,” and not as a “girl”?
- To plan my upcoming weekend around home improvement projects?

That’s right, folks. My weekend will be consumed with stripping and refinishing some bedroom furniture. And when I say “stripping,” I am referring to paint, and not to my clothing. Although that would most certainly give the neighbors something to talk about.

I have absolutely no idea how to go about this task – but that’s what the internet is for. I am researching the appropriate methods online, and then crossing my fingers as I begin the job this evening. Here’s hoping that Monday brings a glorious victory post, and not an “L is for LAME.”

The word “sigh”
What about the combination of the letters S-I-G-H makes people think of the actual act of sighing? When I sigh, I don’t say “Siiiiiiigh.” I don’t understand. I am perplexed.

“Dilemma” vs. “dilemna”
A few years ago, my dad asked me how I spelled the word “dilemma.”

“D-I-L-E-M-M-A.”

He and my mom looked at each other flabbergasted, shaking their heads, saying, “No! It is not a double M! It has an N: D-I-L-E-M-N-A.” Dilemna. Really? A silent N? Both of my parents agreed that as children, this was the way they had learned to spell the word – although I have yet to find a dictionary or source that validates or explains historically the “mn” spelling.

A quick internet investigation proved that my parents are not delusional (even though we Parsons kids definitely accused them of being such) – it seems as if an entire generation was taught to spell this word in a way that is no longer recognized as legitimate. Why? If it works for “solemn” or “condemn,” why not “dilemna”?

Computer storage
I have no idea what a KB or an MB or a GB is. I don’t know what’s the biggest. I don’t know how much space I have left on my Macbook, and I don’t know how to check. I don’t know how to conserve room. I don’t know what to get rid of. I have no concept of how big a Word document or a picture or an mp3 is. I might be ready to explode, but I won’t know until it’s too late. The same is true when it comes to guacamole.

Buy one get one free
Why can’t I just… get one free?

But one thing I DO understand:
It’s raining! Its raaaaaaaiiining in Nashville!!! Let’s sing the “Doxology.”

This is a risky topic. It makes me want to throw up just thinking of you all reading about this subject in association with my name – especially since now you can probably google “is Annie Parsons on eHarmony?” Nevertheless, I want to talk about internet dating.

Not necessarily FOR ME. Just IN GENERAL.

Thoughts? Comments? Good idea? Bad idea? Worthwhile? Desperate? Genius?

And JUST FOR THE RECORD, I am not thinking about signing up, so don’t go looking for my profile on Match.com – although, let’s be honest, I could probably throw together a riveting profile [*rolleyes*, for all of you literalists out there]. I’m just curious to know what you, my esteemed readers, think of the concept. I’m intrigued by your thoughts, in the same way I might be if I asked about, say, the best way to barbecue a pork chop. Not something I’m looking to do anytime in the foreseeable future, but who knows, WHAT ABOUT SOMEDAY?

So. Opinions?

By the way, I have it on good authority – mine – that I have some of the coolest, smartest, most date-worthy blog readers in the land, so just think: your thoughts and comments could help contribute to what might become the internet’s PREMIER source of wisdom about internet dating (i.e. the comment section of this blog entry). Together, we can change the world… wide web.