I don’t know which is more exciting.

I have new songs.

And I’m going to Haiti.

Seriously: explosion of confetti and excitement and exclamation points right →here←.

Ever since my sister Sarah moved to Haiti last June, I have dreamed of an opportunity to see her life there.  One month from tomorrow, I’m getting my chance – seven days and seven nights at Mission of Hope.

What happens at Mission of Hope, you ask?

Well, they have a school, and a home for orphans, and a medical clinic, and a nutrition program.  They also have a new small business initiative called 3 Cords, which employs amputee women, empowering them to make hand-crafts, cards, and jewelry.  I’ll probably get to experience a little bit of each of these things.  I’ll also probably experience tarantulas and dirty feet and mangoes and a little boy named Tee Kervins.  I can’t wait to meet Tee Kervins, just so I can say his name.

Try it.  Tee Kervins.

See?

Of course, I’m a bit nervous about being taken out of my comfort zone, even for a short time.  I’m someone who likes control and safety and rat-free apartments.  And when I’m honest, sometimes it feels easier to just go about my daily business, blind to the pain and sadness and poverty that might be found elsewhere.

But I believe that it’s important – important, and even necessary – to be inconvenienced.

And I also believe that when I am in Haiti, I will find more joy than sadness, more strength than fear, and more hope than despair.  It just might change my life.

So, back to these new songs of mine.

I recorded three new demos with some co-workers when I was in Nashville in December, and even from just a little home studio, I’d say they turned out gems.  I would love for you to hear them – and if you feel so inclined, they’re available for a minimum $10 donation.  The money will help offset the cost of this trip to Haiti – because go figure, it costs a lot to get to the poorest country in the Western hemisphere.

Thanks, as always, for reading, and listening, and following along with this little life of mine.  I can’t wait to tell you stories from my trip.

It’s Monday morning, and deliciously stormy outside.  I look out the office windows to the east, where the land stretches flat all the way to Kansas, and see clouds the color of polished steel.  I’m alone at work this week, sipping on hot tea to placate the angry porcupine that wants to nest on my throat.

Yesterday at church, I saw 6 people whose names I knew.  I got hugs from 4 of them.  It’s nice to have people who know your name.

Later on, as I drove up a windy road to Evergreen, what’s left of the leaves on the trees blustered and blew, twinkling in the wind, matching the shade of the double-yellow lines on the blacktop.  I found a network of trails and went on an easy hike, dreamed of having a dog, and watched the sky as it did things like this.

It’s easy to feel small and alone – but that doesn’t mean that we have to feel afraid.

I am alone in the office this week.  But don’t worry – being alone has never been reason for my brain to get bored.  Au contraire – being alone usually results in my brain galloping full-speed ahead, albeit awkwardly, kind of like that ostrich in “Swiss Family Robinson.”

So let me go ahead and tell you some of what has been on my mind today.

Mix up “congenial” and “jovial” and you get “convivial.”  Fantastic!

I may or may not (or may) have recently spent $800 on a variety of bridesmaid dresses from J.Crew.  Don’t worry – the losers will be returned post-haste – that is, unless I decide that I WANT a variety of taffeta gowns in Aluminum.

Waffles are just pancakes with topography.

There are few places on earth more soul-sucking than the Verizon Wireless store.

Please, Honda.  Please please please last forever.  I have no Plan B.

I am always making lists.  I cannot operate with out lists.  They make me feel productive and safe.

Why “safe”?  Don’t ask me these questions.  It’s how I FEEL.  I don’t need to have a REASON.  GAWL.

[When I was a teenager, "gawl" was my biggest expression of disgust.  I said it ALL THE TIME.  My siblings will still occasionally bring it up, throwing the word at me, faces all repulsed and contorted and dramatic.  Apparently, that is how they remember me at age 14.

I couldn't help it, though - it wasn't easy being SUPERIOR to EVERYONE.  In the UNIVERSE.  FOREVER.  INFINITY.  GAWL.]

Anyway, I just made a list of “actors I do not trust.”  I wrote it on a Post-It note.  It says:
Tom Cruise
Nicolas Cage
Charlie Sheen

And I felt like telling you.

Now, I feel it necessary to acknowledge that I might be wasting your time these days… but then again, you’re HERE, aren’t you?  Lurking in the shadows?  Creepily reading my thoughts?  Distractedly entertained for roughly 45 seconds every day this week?

Heeeyyy-ooooooh, it’s been awhile since I’ve gotten 5 in a row!  I should take myself out for a nice steak dinner.  Congrats, self.

I’m taking my ping-ponging thoughts elsewhere before someone loses an eye.  I’ll see you on Monday.

Don’t pretend like you won’t be back.  I love you.

In this life of trying to figure out who we are, when it comes down to it, we all just wind up being ourselves.

Rather than finding this discouraging, today, I find it freeing.

I’m sorry that I don’t write about health care or anything important at all.

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I have an announcement to make:

I MADE A FRIEND!  I know, high-five.

His name is Chris – some of you out in blog land even know him – and he is a darling.  He came over for DiGiorno Pizza last night, and then I sent him home with cookies.

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Also, there’s this:

First Day from Annie Parsons on Vimeo.

That’s my mom and her neighbor boys on the first day of school in 1961.  So cute, huh?  I hope my kids have red hair.

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At the gym last night, I saw a very skinny girl walking through the weight machines toward the locker room with a gigantic pair of hedge shears.  Just needed to tell someone.

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My current favorite word is “bunk.”  You know, as in, “That’s a load of bunk!”  Also: bunk-beds. Also: bunko.

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On Monday night, I will be seeing Patty Griffin play at the Paramount Theater here in Denver.  And if you never hear from me again, it’s because she played “Goodbye” and I melted into a puddle and was soaked up by the sidewalk.

- – - – - – - -

I cannot believe that Miley Cyrus was the “mentor” on American Idol this week.

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I cannot believe that Miley Cyrus is famous, period.

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Do you have any idea how much I want a milkshake?

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.

On Sunday, while talking to my mom, one of my major insecurities fell out of my mouth.  Without the slightest hesitation, it slipped off my tongue – and landed right there on the coffee table.

“Where did you learn that?” she asked.  “Why do you feel that way about yourself?”

And for the past 36 hours, I’ve been thinking about the “reasons why.”  For an all-around self-confident girl, I’ve spent a lifetime banking reinforcements for a few stupid insecurities.

A few days ago, I got word that John Medina, a dear friend, former employer, and bona fide GENE CLONER was going to be speaking in Denver last night – so of course, I went.  I’ve heard John speak in Seattle many times about his research on the brain – how it works and what we know – but no matter how many times you hear him, he’s always engaging, entertaining, and brilliant.  It was so good to see a familiar face.

Last night, he said that research shows that it takes 3 reinforcements for the brain to learn something, and 50 to unlearn it.

For a girl like me with a lot to unlearn, those are some really bad odds.

Once again, it’s time to combat with a Hiroshima of Truth.

On my way back from Boston last night, flying between Chicago and Nashville, I looked out my window to the west.  The gloaming light was punctuated by the remains of the sunset, blazing melon and pink, both and the same, swirling like tie-dye.  As we headed further south, the colors settled into a solid stripe of vivid orange, dimming into a hazy rust, and then, eventually, just darkness.

I don’t know that I will ever shake my wanderlust.

Controversial foods that I happen to love:
Olives
Mushrooms
Beets

Controversial foods that I happen to hate:
Tuna
Pickles
Cauliflower

Cauliflower is the worst. It makes me think of cauliflower ear.

I have a serious addiction to chewing gum, but I ran out about 8 days ago, and have yet to buy a new pack. Every morning after my two cups of coffee, I reach for a piece of minty freshness, and realize that my purse is empty. I spend the rest of the day going through withdrawal. Why I don’t just go buy a new pack of gum is beyond me – maybe I’m trying to prove my ruggedness of spirit.

Speaking of spirit, last night, I mentioned my “melancholy spirit” to Zach, the friend from Seattle who now lives on the JAM house floor (JAMZ?). He told me to not to call it that – because there is a difference between “spirit” and “temperament,” and that my spirit is actually quite fiery. I think that’s true – and it was nice to hear from an outside source.

Also last night, I sang background vocals for one of PZC’s grad school projects – he set up a makeshift isolation booth in his closet, and I sang from there while he and Zach sat silently in chairs in the middle of the bedroom. Occasionally, one of Paul’s roommates would poke their head into the room and find us thusly. That thought is making me laugh today.

I go to Boston tomorrow. If Seattle is my true love, then Boston is my crush. Seattle is to Edward as Boston is to Jacob – although, no, I still have not finished “Eclipse,” so I don’t know how it’s all going to end, and who knows – maybe Bella will wind up with a werewolf after all. At this rate, I may never know. I don’t fully believe that she has “just friends” feelings for Jacob, no matter how many times her annoying narrative voice insists upon it. I kind of want to take the book with me on the plane, but what if I still don’t read it? It’s a huge, heavy, embarrassing novel to be toting around and flashing to strangers if I’m not actually going to read it.

But I want to know how it all ends.

Don’t tell me, though.