Blogmas Day 3 (A Very Late Day 3)

I keep waiting for someone to figure out my secret. How much longer can I hide it? When will someone discover what is deep down inside of me? I guess I should just say it before someone finds out.

I, Summer Sattora, am pretending to be an adult.


I'm pretty sure mentally and emotionally I haven't really aged much past 16, maybe 20 on a good day. When I do "adult" things like cook dinner or pay bills or not cry in public I feel like I'm faking it. I still want my mom to make appointments for me. Lately I find that on days when I don't have to leave my apartment I don't even want to change out of my pajamas or shower. And yet, I'm 38. I'm supposed to adult, and in theory be pretty good at it. But I'm not. I suck at it.

Maybe it's because I worked for years in retail, which in the eyes of society is not a "real job." I am not married. I don't have kids. I don't know how to drive. I live in a studio apartment. I like pizza and hot dogs for dinner. I feel like if I'm an adult, shouldn't I at least have a car? A one bedroom apartment, if not a house? Or at least have been in a serious enough relationship that I would've lived with a man by now, or at least had one stick around longer than a few months?

So there you have it. Whatever the girl version of "man-child" is, I feel like that's me. I don't want to have to decide between paying my Internet bill or buying a bunch of movies off of Amazon. I want someone to make dinner for me and keep junk food around so I don't have to think about it. I don't want to clean (oh, wait, I don't).

Am I the only one? Are there other people out there who feel the same way? Or is that the great secret of adulthood, that nobody feels like one? Are we really just a bunch of teenagers and 20-somethings pretending that we're more mature and put together than we really are? Actually, in some ways, I don't know if I even want to adult. Or at least what I think adulting is. I know soon enough school will be over and I will embark on an actual career. Maybe I'll feel like I have things together by then. Or maybe I'll stop worrying about what I "should" be doing as an adult, and embrace my version of adulting. It seems to be working so far I think. I can fake it til I make it. Or not. Whatever. Leave me alone! Mom, will you pick me up some chips and pizza? I'll be in my room.

Blogmas Day 2

Thoughts on the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show

I have never seen the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. There, I said it. Whew, feels good to get that off my chest!! I mean, I was aware of it. I knew that in some circles it was a really big deal. I just never watched it. I think my main reason was "Why do I want to watch a bunch of beautiful models parade around in skimpy lingerie?" Or I was working or there was something else on opposite or really, who knows. But mainly, the low-self-esteem side of me had no desire to watch and potentially feel worse about herself.

So, Summer, what changed?

Well, dear reader, let me tell you. I have no idea. Part of it may be that I started following Gigi Hadid on Instagram and Snapchat this past year, and she is one of the models. Part of it may be that one of the beauty influencers I follow was invited backstage of this year's show and all of her snaps on Snapchat got me intrigued. Maybe part of it was that I like Lady Gaga. I really don't know. I just know that this year I decided to see what all the hoopla was about.

I will admit, before I get in to my thoughts, that as someone exploring their feminist side I don't know how I'm "supposed" to feel about this show. Should I be outraged at this sexualization of women, at these unattainable figures and standards of beauty? Or should I embrace women embracing their sexuality and saying if they've got it why not flaunt it? I would. I just don't know. It's one of the most confusing parts of feminism: cover up the female figure and take off the makeup or embrace our sexuality and don't be afraid to show off your body? Way too much for me to go in to here, especially since my mental energy is almost zilch with it being the last week of the semester. So let me get to my thoughts on the show....

I wasn't overwhelmed by it. I don't know what I was expecting, perhaps to be dazzled and blown away, but I wasn't. That being said, I wasn't bored. I was afraid I would be. It was fast moving though and, surprise surprise, I actually had heard of the musicians performing! I realized quickly that it's not so much about showing off lingerie, it's about drama. A lot of times you couldn't even see the lingerie under all the other stuff they were wearing: coats and feathers and wings and headdresses and jewelry and socks and shoes. They weren't being provocative, they were wearing costumes. And I thought for sure they would make a much bigger deal about the fantasy bra. Actually, what I liked most was the model interviews. I never knew that becoming an Angel or being picked to walk the show was such a big deal. They showed one model (whose name escapes me) wearing her wings for the first time for what I assume was a commercial or photo shoot and crying. She was so overwhelmed about actually going through something she had dreamed about that she couldn't control her emotions. My favorite though had to be Gigi Hadid. From my understanding she has walked the show before and this year she was able to walk it with her younger sister Bella. During her interview as she talked about getting to do this with her sister, something they had both dreamed about as little girls, she also couldn't control her emotions and was tearing up. While my sisters and I can't relate to this specific life goal, I do know what it is like to share something that is important to you with those you love. Okay, sure, maybe it was being at a Christmas Eve service for the first time since we were kids, but I still get it.

It's very easy to look down on those who model. We make assumptions about who they are or what their life is like. It's even easier to do when that woman is a lingerie model. I prefer to give them the benefit of the doubt. I would never have the self-confidence to walk down a runway in underwear and heels, no matter what my body looked like. I don't have the discipline to work out like these girls do. And I don't have the discipline to eat the healthy foods they must need to eat to stay that slim. But I'm also not getting paid to be a Victoria's Secret model. Are there unrealistic standards in the runway model world? Definitely. Are there unhealthy practices going on? Definitely. I saw a couple women who looked on the verge of scary skinny. But I also saw women doing what they love. I saw nerves before they went on stage and the excitement they felt coming off stage. I did see racial diversity, although not enough. I would love to some day see more diversity in body types. Ashley Graham would KILL it on that runway!! But I choose, as a woman, to celebrate other women. I try not to put down my fellow gender, we get enough of that already in our culture.

So, in a nutshell, it was interesting. I still feel just as good about myself after as I did before. I would hope that if I had a daughter we could use the show as a starting topic for body confidence and body types. I couldn't tell you a thing about the lingerie but there were some very pretty wings and one awesome pair of boots. And let's be kind to each other ladies, yeah?

Blogmas Day 1

"Day 1? But Summer, isn't this the 5th of December? Doesn't Blogmas usually start on the 1st?"
"Yes, dear reader, this is true. But I didn't think I wanted to do this until yesterday. So...."

Now that the fact that I'm a procrastinator/late starter is out of the way, let's get started!

Christmas Tree Envy

I love decorating for Christmas. If not the day after Thanksgiving then usually the weekend after I put on some Christmas music and put out all the decorations. Then that night I'll sit on the couch by the lights of the Christmas decorations and watch my first Christmas movie of the season.  This year it's been going a little differently. My mom stores my decorations so I've been getting them a little at a time and as of today I still have one more box to unpack and put up. So I've been getting my kicks walking up and down the street looking at the decorations others have put up. I love looking at the lights and wreaths and even sometimes those ridiculous blow-up decorations. I love seeing white lights around porch railings and electric candles in windows. I love seeing lights strung along a fence or in a front yard tree. Living in an apartment, I don't have a yard to decorate or even an outside. I don't have a balcony. So I have to live vicariously through other people's decorations. But one thing I've been loving the most this year? Christmas trees.

Not to sound like a creeper, but the thing I love most is getting a peek inside someone's window at their Christmas tree. Now, before you start calling 911, I will clarify that since I do a lot of walking I can't help but see through open windows at night to the lights of a tree in a corner or placed in the center of said windows. And no, I don't just stop on the sidewalk and stare. Please, I have places to go! Cats to see! In fact, there's a joke in my family that whenever someone moves in to a new place the first thing we do is figure out where the Christmas tree should go. (Seriously. My youngest sister moved about a month ago. She'll tell you.) Then I come home to my studio apartment and as I open the door I send out a wish that I won't find my little two foot tree fallen over. When you have a studio apartment there's not always a lot of space for an actual Christmas tree, so for the past few years I've put up a very small tree. I can't just not have a tree! Last year when it came out of storage it was missing one of the feet. So unfortunately this means that it is balanced precariously with something holding up the third side and therefore it is all too easy for the cats (well, one of the cats) to knock it over. I'm not even sure I'll put decorations on it, although it's pre-lit so at least there's that. All of this is to say that when I get to see a big, well lit, well ornamented tree I have a minute of tree envy. I have a box of tree decorations I can't use, although I hang on to them in the hope that some day I will have more space and a bigger tree.

I guess until that "some day" I'll have to make do with drooling in envy over other people's trees. So if you see someone standing outside your house, hands clasped before her heart, tears spilling out of her eyes, leave her be. She's just staring at your Christmas tree, remembering the trees of her past and dreaming of the trees of her future.

Sermon September 7th, 2016

I started school back up a couple weeks ago (eek! my senior year!) and this means campus chapel services started back up as well. The way our school works is that each group on campus as well as some of the classes are in charge of 2-4 chapel services every semester. As a Presbyterian, I am part of our Reformed Fellowship Group and we chose to do our first service of the semester the second week of school. I had the privilege of preaching and putting together the service. While the audience I wrote this for was seminary students, I think there are parts of the message that work for everyone. Below is a copy of the sermon I preached. Enjoy!

Read the Fine Print

Preached at CRCDS Chapel Service, September 7, 2016

Luke 14:25-33

Not to alarm you, but by my calculation there are only 109 days left until Christmas. This means that it is not too soon to start talking about Christmas movies, and with that in mind I now turn to the 1994 classic The Santa Clause.  In The Santa Clause Tim Allen plays a workaholic divorced father named Scott Calvin who is in charge of developing toys for a toy company. On Christmas Eve he reads ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas to his son and goes to bed only to be awakened a few hours later by noises coming from his roof. When he and his son go outside to investigate he startles a man dressed as Santa on his roof, who then slips and falls in to a snow bank. As Scott and his son Charlie are discussing what to do with the mysterious intruder, the man disappears leaving behind his signature red suit. At Charlie’s urging Scott puts on the suit only to assume the duties of Santa Claus for the night. They wind up at the North Pole where the head elf Bernard informs Scott that he is now, in fact, Santa Claus. To prove this claim, Bernard pulls out a business card that Scott found with the suit, puts it under a magnifying glass, and shows Scott the fine print: anyone who puts on the suit takes over the job of Santa Claus until something happens that renders him unable to perform the duties (such as falling off a roof). Scott is stuck because he did not read the fine print.

Today’s passage from Luke is the Jesus version of this movie, or perhaps The Santa Clause is the Disney Christmas movie version of this passage. Jesus is like Bernard and the business card, and the large crowd is like Scott Calvin. They want to put on the mantle of disciple and follow Jesus but they can only focus on the immediate situation. They feel compelled to put on the outfit without really knowing what the consequences will be. Jesus is the one who has to tell them that this is not a one-night-only gig, this is for life. Following Jesus is not something to be taken up lightly or impulsively. There is a cost.

We all have our different stories of how we ended up here today. Some of us always saw ourselves here, some of us never would’ve thought we’d end up here. Some of us have come right after undergrad, some of us are embarking on second careers. Some of us are born-and-raised in one denomination, some of us may need two hands to count the different denominations we have found ourselves drawn to over the years. But I think many of us can share the same sentiment: in one way or another we have been called to ministry.

Now, how many of us here read the fine print before we started seminary? How many of us even knew there would be fine print to read? Much like the traveling crowd, I too was swept up in the idea of what all of this meant but hadn’t really thought it through. I had no idea what giving up my possessions really meant, other than looking at that poor rich guy who was told to sell everything he owned to follow Jesus and shaking my head at his reluctance to do so. Little did I know that I would be giving up the most important possession I had: my idea of who I was.

See, there’s this part of seminary life that isn’t mentioned in the course booklets or website: what you have to give up. I mean, it’s here in the Bible, so it’s not like it’s a big bad secret. We just sort of take on the mantle of seminary student or future pastor or ministry work without going too far beyond that. Following Jesus will be awesome!!! And it is. But man, it can be rough, and even when we think we’ve read the fine print we can still be thrown for a loop when the reality doesn’t quite match the fantasy. Following Jesus is not all sunshine and roses, or I guess for us loaves and fishes. While we may not hate our family like Jesus suggests in verse 26, we give up a part of our relationship with them. We may have to move away from them for a few days out of the week or for months at a time. We can’t spend time with them because we are in class or doing homework. Maybe they don’t understand why ministry is now a life path for us. And it’s not just family, all of this pertains to our friends as well. Our conversations now center around things like Bonhoeffer and Old Testament. Our co-workers don’t understand why our availability is so limited. Maybe we have to cut back our hours. Maybe we quit our jobs altogether. Maybe we give up retirement. Some of us will change denominations. Some of us will have emotional breakdowns in the middle of class. Some of us will struggle with having our minds blown up when a new idea is presented to us. Some of us will give up self-confidence and wonder what we’re even doing here or why God possibly thinks we could be any good at this. I could go on and on.

But as I mentioned, I think the hardest thing about taking up this cross of ministry is letting go of who you think you are. Being here, going through what we go through, learning what we learn, can’t do anything but change us. We start out seeing ourselves a certain way. We think we know who we are. Other people tell us who they think we are. We think we know what role we play in our relationship with God and with others. But somewhere along the way, all of that starts to shift. Sometimes it’s subtle. Sometimes it’s immediate. But one day we wake up and find we’re different. Without even realizing it we look at ourselves in a completely different way. It’s terrifying to give up the image we had of ourselves. You look around at your life, how you interact with others, how you react to different situations, at what others say to you and realize you are not the same person you were when you answered God’s call. You put yourself in to one box and suddenly you are thrown outside that box and everything you thought you knew about who you are is completely different. And there in the fine print we read:  “None of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.” We like to think that even if we had read that fine print before we filled out the application we would’ve carried on anyway, but that may not be true. We’re only human, after all, and very comfortable with moving forward with everything being exactly the way it always has been. Don’t our churches often remind us of that when we hear “But we’ve always done it this way!”?

But here’s some finer fine print: it doesn’t matter if we know who we are or not, because God knows who we are. The Psalm paired with this Bible passage in the lectionary is select verses from 139: “O LORD, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away. You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, O LORD, you know it completely. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it. For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes beheld my unformed substance. In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed. How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! I try to count them-they are more than the sand; I come to the end-I am still with you.”  God knows us. God knew us before we were born. God knows us now. God will know us even after we take our last breath. And to borrow from a familiar Bible passage, If God is for us then how we can be against ourselves?

For those of you that may be new to seminary or may need a reminder after the summer off, let me give you a little fine print spoiler alert: the internal wrestling you will do here will make Jacob and the angel look like two tired little puppies who are more playing than fighting. There will be stretching and pulling and pushing and struggling and screaming and crying and doubt and fear and enlightenment and despair and joy and a strengthening of faith that you didn’t know needed to be strengthened in the first place. And we haven’t even started talking about writing your papers yet. You will discover things about yourself that you didn’t know were there. Words will come out of your mouth and you’ll wonder where in the world they came from. A friend of mine and graduate of CRCDS once said “If you don’t have a crisis of faith while you’re here you’re not doing it right.” Now I don’t know if that’s true, but be comfortable with crisis. Be comfortable with struggle. Be comfortable with fear. Be comfortable with doubt. Be comfortable with being uncomfortable. Because God is comfortable with our crisis. God is comfortable with our struggle. God is comfortable with our fear. God is comfortable with us being uncomfortable because God knows how we are going to turn out.  I’m reminded of the lyrics to a DC Talk song: “What if I stumble? What if I fall? What if I lose my step and I make fools of us all? Will the love continue when the walk becomes a crawl? I hear You whispering my name. (You say) my love for you will never change.”  God has searched us and known us. We may forget to read the fine print at times, but God doesn’t.

Remember Scott Calvin, our reluctant Santa Claus? He spends the rest of the movie trying to deny who he is becoming. He keeps trying to revert back to who he was on that fateful Christmas Eve. But no matter what he does, he can’t go back. He is finally at peace when he accepts this and stops fighting who he has become. The same is true for us. Whether it happens slowly over your four or six year plan or happens all at once sitting in your Supervised Ministry class one random day, change is going to happen. But if we remind ourselves that God has our back, that we are God’s, and that God knows us, we shouldn’t fear it or run away from it. We should embrace it, and embrace who we are becoming, for we are fearfully and wonderfully made.

Amen.  

Should I Stay Or Should I Go Now?

Sometimes it is really frustrating being me. Here's a peek in to why:

This morning I was on Facebook and I saw a post from the Dryden Theatre that said they would be showing Julius Caesar with Marlon Brando tonight. I love old movies and who doesn't love them some young Marlon Brando? So I shared it on my Facebook page and asked if anyone wanted to go. Cut to several hours later and I had one person like the post. Other than that....crickets. At one point I started having a pity party. I mean, nothing makes you feel like you have no friends than when you get no response to a general Facebook invite, right?

So here's the first frustration: I don't know how to ask people to hang out on a one-on-one basis. Or at the very least, I'm awkward and uncomfortable. I did ask one person but she doesn't have access to her car. I can't get too mad because as an introvert I am friends with a lot of introverts so I totally understand the whole I don't want to leave my house thing. If you don't fall on to my part of the introvert scale, you're probably wondering why I didn't start texting or messaging people I know and seeing if they want to go. Because I always just assume nobody wants to go with me (they would've responded to the Facebook post, right?) or I've already made excuses for them in my head. They're married. They have kids. They already have plans. They need more prior notice than day of. It's Shark Week. We don't know each other well enough to hang out one-on-one. That sort of thing. So instead of trying, I pity party.

Here's the second frustration: sometimes I won't go do something I want to do because if it's just me the effort is just too great. I mean, I was so excited to see the movie! But now I'm sitting here trying to come up with excuses to justify staying home. If I'm faced with an unknown situation and/or an unknown place, my instinct is to back away from it. Every. Single. Time. I don't like that about myself, but that's my default setting. And I know once I go I will have fun and be glad I went, and yet.... I could clean. I could be doing some reading for my Bible Content Exam. I could start packing for Cuba. I could do what I've been doing all day and sit on the couch watching TV. It might rain. I could use the money later in the week when I go to The Cinema (a place I am very comfortable with).

So there you have it. Will I go? I'm still waffling back and forth, truthfully. I am trying to talk myself in to it. I know going out and doing things is how you meet people and become interesting. It's healthy to be in public once in a while, not just stay here with my Netflix and Hulu and coloring and cross-stitching and cats. I know, some of you are reading this and thinking I am being absolutely ridiculous. On some level, I'm reading this thinking I'm being absolutely ridiculous. Maybe that's why I'm blogging. So I can call myself out and push myself to do something I want to do. To be clear, this isn't a phobia. I'm not afraid to go and mingle with the masses. It really all comes down to comfort zone. And I hate it. I guess what I'm trying to say is the next time you see me do a vague general Facebook invite, know that what I'm really saying is I need the motivation and excuse to leave my space. Don't be afraid to reach out to me. Also, don't be afraid to invite me places. If I say no, you might need to do a little prodding and convincing. If I need the me time, as in if I've been doing too much with other people and need to recharge, know that I will tell you. Respect that. And ask me to do something again. I promise I will eventually say yes.

Dad Dad Dad Dad Dad Dad Dad

It's Father's Day which means, naturally, my thoughts as I sit here this morning turn to him. My dad. If you don't know, my dad passed away almost eleven years ago. But I'm not sad today. I know there are people who have trouble with today, trouble handling that emptiness. And it's not that I don't miss my dad or didn't love him. We didn't have a bad relationship. I guess for me it doesn't take one certain day to feel the loss. I don't sequester myself away on Father's Day or the anniversary of his death or his birthday. (Of course, since my Dad's birthday was Christmas day, it would be a little hard to do that.) When I miss him most usually is on some random day. I'll look at his picture on my wall or I'll see something on TV or read something that triggers the pain. Sometimes it will come out of nowhere. Actually, early October is hardest for me. He died October 29th (well, that's when they "called it" after midnight, but I guess he technically was gone very late on the 28th). I still vividly remember the day we spread his ashes. It was one of those rare late autumn days that feel more like late September: not too warm, not too cold, leaves everywhere. Was the sun shining? I don't remember clearly. Maybe because years when we've gone back to visit the spot it has been and they all meld together in my memory. But those early October days, when there's a bite in the air but the sun still keeps you warm, the faint smell of wood smoke is in the air, the fall colors are in full force.... those are the days I miss him most.

I never mind talking about my dad. I love sharing stories and memories. I was lucky enough to have him for 27 years. That's more than some people get. When I grieve, it's for me and my family and all the milestones he's not physically here for. I believe in some sort of afterlife so I think he's still with us on those days. Later today my family is getting together for my niece's birthday and I know he'll be there with us. But that doesn't stop me from occasionally asking him "Dad, what do you think? If you were here, what would you say?" Today is the day when many of my friends on Facebook will post pictures of their wedding day and their dad walking them down the aisle or sharing the Father/Daughter dance or just standing proudly by in a tux. I'll never have that. That being said, me and my sisters would often wonder if our father would show up at our weddings in his good jeans and flannel because we just couldn't picture him in a suit or tux.

Today I will be happy. Every time a sarcastic or inappropriate comment is said by one of my sisters or myself I'll think of him. When my youngest sister smiles I'll see his smile. When I watch my brother-in-law interact with one of his kids I'll think of how hands-on my dad was. When I see my blue eyes in the mirror I'll think of his blue eyes. When I sit a little away from everyone because my introvertedness keeps me away from the overload of so many people, I'll think of my dad's quiet presence as he would do the same thing. And if I catch a whiff of wet dog (because only my dad would choose to have that scent associated with him. It's a story. Ask me and I'll tell you.) I'll know it's him.

Happy Father's Day Dad.

Me and my dad, February 1980

Can love really win?

My friends, I am hurting tonight. As I'm sure many of you are also. I am sitting here in the dark with so many thoughts chasing each other in my head that I'm hoping that maybe by putting some of them down I can lift this heaviness from my mind and my heart. Orlando. An attack on the LGBTQ community. The aftermath.

Where do I begin? Maybe I'll start with privilege. You can be aware of the privilege you have as someone who fits in to the "normal" or "ideal" stereotype. Generally, we lift up white heterosexual male as the ultimate in privilege. I know that being a woman, especially one who is cis, white, and heterosexual, gives me a privilege, although not as great as the aforementioned male. But it's not often that I am as completely aware of it as I am tonight. Especially being cis and heterosexual. Sure, if I pass a group of guys on the street there is the immediate fear of "what if they catcall or say something rude/offensive/inappropriate to me?" But I don't have to be afraid that if I'm dating someone and we're walking down the street holding hands or having dinner together that we run the risk of being bullied or beaten. I don't need to be so worried about looks, glances, stares, comments, innuendos when I'm out in public that it becomes easier to just stay at home. I don't have to hide who I am. The world is pretty much designed for me and I don't need a club to be a safe space. I don't need to now live in fear that even that is no longer a safe space.

I have always considered myself an LGBTQ ally, even in high school. As a church kid, particularly a Catholic one, I always struggled with the idea that loving someone of the same sex was wrong or a sin or worthy of hell. I know that in some ways I can be naïve or even uneducated, but I truly can't comprehend hating someone simply because they don't love or aren't sexually attracted to someone of the opposite gender. I can't understand hating someone who says I was born in the wrong body, born with the wrong gender. I've never understood how following a man who preached love for everyone, especially the marginalized, means you think you can turn around and do the exact opposite. I don't know what it's like to live with that fear or that hatred or that persecution, but I grieve with and for the LGBTQ community.

I'm sorry, I feel like none of this is coming out quite right. I am hurting over what people are trying to turn this tragedy in to. They are pulling focus from what it is, a hate crime, and using it to push their own agenda. Look at what other atrocities are happening in the world every day that you don't pay attention to! We think the shooter had ties to ISIS so clearly we need stronger immigration laws! The shooter used an automatic weapon so clearly we need more gun control! This isn't just an attack on the LGBTQ community it's an attack on all of us! STOP!!!! Don't you see that what you are doing demeans and lessens what happens? It's like you're saying that this terror attack didn't count for anything. It's like you're saying it wasn't a horrible horrible thing because.... I don't know. What, it wasn't bad enough for you? What would have made it worthy of being a tragedy all on its own? Why does it need to be a stepping stone for something else? (Is this making sense?)

And one of the most painful and sickening things for me as a Christian and a seminary student, is when I see comments from Christians who claim that is was a just punishment from God. That God wanted that shooter to walk in to that club. That this is karma or deserved because clearly God hates gays. This is not the God I love. This is not the God I worship. This is not the God I follow. My God has been weeping since the early hours of Sunday morning. My God has welcomed his children home.

I keep seeing the phrase "love wins" everywhere on social media. This is not a new phrase to me, and it's one I normally believe in whole heartedly. But tonight, sitting in the dark, not too long after attending an ecumenical prayer service, I am struggling. I want to believe. I don't know if I can right now. It seems like every time I hop on social media lately (even before Sunday) I am bombarded with negativity. People are being anything from catty to outright vicious and hateful to whoever it is they're following or other fans. People are single-mindedly pushing their own views and beliefs without any room for discussion. The few times I try to watch the news it feels like nothing but violence and pain and heartache and hate. And I'm tired. Tired of feeling defeated at every turn. Tired of hurting. Tired of feeling like I don't know what to do. It feels like no matter what it is it won't be enough. The world won't change. Someone will be there to tell me I should do more, praying doesn't help, you're making this about you, you're wrong, here's why you should vote for my candidate. Help me know what to do. How do I support the LGBTQ community? Have I done enough? Do I back off? Is this even my fight? Should I even post this blog? If I look at my privilege do I even have the right to be sad and tired? Am I coopting the tragedy like all those people I've condemned?

For now, I will sit in the dark a few minutes longer. Then I'll take a shower and go to bed. Maybe read a little Nora Roberts to take my mind away. I'll turn the light off and pray. And maybe tomorrow love really will win.

If You're Not First You're Last

This morning I was skimming my way through yesterday's paper (don't judge...Wednesday is a very long and full day for me) and I found myself flipping pages in the sports section. On page 6D there is a column which highlights quotes and tweets from athletes and the first one read as follows:

          "You show me a good loser, and I'll show you a loser. If you want me to conform, I'm not that guy. ...I am my own person. I take pride in that." -Panthers quarterback Cam Newton, addressing criticism about him giving terse answers and walking out of his post-Super Bowl news conference


My first thought? Good for him.

I don't follow football extremely closely, although I am a Buffalo Bills fan and watch their games whenever I'm home on a Sunday afternoon. But I do know that Newton has ruffled a lot of feathers in his NFL career due to his attitude. I also know that he was very short with his answers, not going in to details, and overall seemed depressed and down after the Super Bowl. Well, pardon my language, but no shit Sherlock.

Picture this: you're a young quarterback who in just a short time has managed to help get your team to the biggest game perhaps in all sports (at least in the US). You did the best that you could but your offense, the guys literally standing next to and in front of you on the field, just could not get past the Broncos defense. Maybe you're disappointed in yourself because you start going over every play, wondering what you could have done to be better. Should I have passed there instead of handing off? Should I have aimed for another receiver? Should I have run here when I realized nobody was open? I've never played football, but I can certainly imagine what must go through a player's head after a loss. As an actor I've done that countless times with roles, wondering if I should've said a line differently or gone at the script or character a different way. I also know what it feels like to lose, and it isn't good. Even now, I'm likely to feel depressed and to start thinking of ways I could've done better and been mad at whoever won, convinced they were cheating or I didn't get a fair shot. And I'm not paid to win.

So who are we to expect Cam Newton to go before the press the same night as his biggest loss and be gracious? Do we want it? Yes, of course we do. Because we hold our celebrities up to higher, and at times impossible, standards. We want them to be better than us. We want them to react the way we wouldn't in a situation. We want them to be more than human. We want them to be one dimensional, always happy and calm and gracious no matter what. And we are so quick to rip them apart when they act like the rest of us. Just because someone's face is on a magazine cover or a TV screen it does not make them better. Different, yes, but not necessarily better.

I think back to when I was 26, the age Newton is now. Perhaps part of his reaction comes with his age. I react differently to situations now at 37 then I did 11 years ago. Maybe in 10 years Newton will be able to sit down at a post-Super Bowl conference as the QB of the losing team and be able to answer questions calmly and graciously. And maybe not. But it's not up to us to judge his reaction based on how we think he should react. I applaud him for always being true to himself, even if it's not what people want out of him. In a world where too many of us are quick to compare ourselves to others and to react to situations the way we think we "should", it's refreshing to see somebody who isn't afraid to put himself out there as himself. We don't have to like it, but we should respect it.

Cam Newton, you do you, boo. Congrats on making it to the Super Bowl (did I mention I'm a Bills fan and it's getting hard to remember when it last happened for us?) and it was a tough loss. Good luck next season and keep on being you. Because at the end of the day, no matter how many Super Bowl rings we have, we still have to live with ourselves knowing we were true to who that was no matter what.

If I Had A Million Dollars....

...I'd be rich.

Although, I guess in this case, it should be "If I had a billion dollars." Yes, hard to believe, but that Power Ball lotto is up in the billions. Everyone seems to have lotto frenzy. The wish lists have come out and everyone is posting on Facebook and Twitter about what they would do with the money.

Let's be real: we all know we have little to no chance of winning. There's another thing working its way around social media- all the things that have a better chance of happening to you (like being eaten by a shark) than winning the lottery. And yet, people keep buying those tickets. People who have never played a day in their life before are buying tickets because, "Somebody has to win!" I wonder why that is?

Well, I can't speak for anyone else out there, but I know why I would buy a ticket. The dream. The fantasy. The longing to not be burdened any more by monetary worries and concerns. No more living paycheck to paycheck. It's fun to escape in to the day dream of "what if" and escape the realities of this world, even for just a couple minutes. Reality? I have a tiny studio apartment with no storage or kitchen space. I will be paying back student loans until after I die. I have to second and third guess any purchase right now because I'm living off my loans. I was hoping to travel to Germany and visit a friend over winter break, but now I don't know if it will ever happen. Fantasy? Oh, the fantasies. I could pay off my student loans and pay for my last year and a half of grad school. I could live in a fancy apartment, maybe even a loft apartment! Or I could buy a house! I could finally get my license because I would be able to afford a car. I could travel around the world, including Germany. I wouldn't have to weigh pros and cons about buying anything, especially a $5 lipstick. I wouldn't have to work unless I wanted to. I could take care of my family. Those visions are way better than what faces me every day. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like my life just fine and I know having money doesn't mean life gets easier. But there are stresses that would go away. I wouldn't have money nightmares when I sleep. (Yes, this has really been happening.) Life would be just a bit easier.

So, will I go out and buy a Power Ball ticket this week? I don't know. Maybe I will. Maybe the next time I blog I'll be sitting on a beach or in a hotel with a view of a city I've never been to. Or maybe I won't, and I'll continue to set goals and dream dreams for myself that are more realistic. Because, hey, you never know.

I See You 2016

We are eight days in to 2016 and I have not broken one of my resolutions. Probably because I haven't made any. I actually don't like the idea of a resolution. The implication is that you failed at something the previous year or you have somehow found you or your life lacking and need to improve it. Is that really a good mindset to get in to? I mean, no wonder we break resolutions. In the making of them we are looking at what we consider our faults or weaknesses and dwelling on them as we come up with ways to fix ourselves. But maybe we don't need to be fixed. Or maybe focusing on so much negativity is defeatist. I don't know about you, but when I start thinking about what I don't like about myself there reaches a point where I feel it piling up and I decide to throw my hands in the air, declare myself a lost cause, and go pour myself a big glass of wine.

So I'm doing something a little different this year. I have decided to set Goals for 2016. These are things I want to do in the upcoming year, things that don't necessarily focus on where I think I've failed but where I think I want to go. I realize that setting goals is similar to resolutions, but by calling them goals I don't feel like I'm putting myself down for what I have or haven't done in 2015. Instead of looking back I'm looking forward to something.

GOAL 1: Do yoga more. I slowly started doing yoga less and less that by the time December hit I had stopped doing it altogether. I miss it. Unflexible joints make me feel old. And I have gained weight (trust me, I know how my clothes fit) which part of me doesn't mind, but I know I've gained weight because I'm not currently moving very far off my couch. So just to be healthy and moving I want to start up again. I thought about setting a goal of a certain number of days but that actually stresses me out if the end of the week happens and I've only done yoga one day instead of three.

GOAL 2: Blog more. I've really enjoyed getting back in to blogging and I want to keep up with it. Again, I was going to set a goal of a certain number of days a week, but really I just don't want it to be months between blog posts.

GOAL 3: Do more fun reading. It's really hard to find time during the school year when it seems like the only reading I'm doing is assigned reading. This is why I have a stack of books that have accumulated over a couple years now, waiting to be read. I admit watching TV is how I spend a lot of my free time (hello binge watching) so I want to make more of an effort to set aside time to read non-school books.

GOAL 4: Eat/drink less sugar. Again, this is about my health. I'm not a big sweets person to begin with, but with the holidays I know I consumed more sugar in the form of pop and cookies/candy/cupcakes/fudge. I always feel good when I cut back so I'm aiming to get there again. I'm realistic. I'm  not going to cut sugar out completely. Anything Reese's is my weakness and I enjoy putting flavored creamer in my afternoon coffee (instead of spending money on a flavored latte). But I need to take care of myself. I'm not getting any younger!

And that's it. I'm mostly just looking to do more of things that I enjoy, things that make me feel good physically, mentally, and emotionally. Hopefully these will be easy to accomplish and nothing I can get down on myself about. I'll keep you posted!

What are your goals for 2016?

Last Day of Christmas

Well, it's official: Christmas is over.

Yes, dear readers, today I took down my Christmas decorations. I started it yesterday and finished the task today, just a few days short of Epiphany, which is my personal cutoff day for decorations. (If you don't know, Epiphany is traditionally the day where the wise men are celebrated. It is also the twelfth day of Christmas.) The trick is to find that sweet spot of time where you're not yet completely over seeing the lights and stockings and tree, but not still so joyful at seeing them around that you'll be sad every time you look around. If I take them down too early then it just seems sad and depressing, but if I wait too long then the task is nothing but a big pain in the ass because I JUST WANT THEM GONE!! Today was the sweet spot.

I admit to feeling just a bit bummed as I take everything down and put it back in the boxes. I love my Christmas mugs and plate set and seeing the candles in my windows and the lighted garland above my kitchen counters makes me smile. The apartment always looks a little bare and empty when I don't have those to look at. When I ate my cereal out of my usual bowl this morning and drank my coffee out of one of my every-day mugs, there was a bit of a let down. But as I loaded up my totes there was definitely a sense of relief as well. Have you ever noticed how putting up the decorations seems to take almost no time at all and doesn't even seem like work? Complete opposite today. It seemed to take forever and even at times got a bit annoying. Or maybe that was the plotline on today's Bold and the Beautiful. Either way, without the sense of anticipation, it felt like work.

And I guess that's where the depressed part of taking down the decorations comes in to play. There's no anticipation, nothing to look forward to. Instead I'm just looking at months (and months) of winter and cold and snow and gray skies. Today was our first real winter day with temperatures hovering around 10 degrees and windchills around 0. It's been snowing lightly most of the day and my heaters have been working hard to keep my little studio apartment warm. Sure, I start school up again in a few weeks and there's a couple youth retreats I'm looking forward to this month, but other than that..... nothing. At least when I take down Halloween and Thanksgiving decorations there's a holiday immediately following, but not so much. Well, yeah, there's Valentine's Day, and yes I do have decorations, but it's nothing like Christmas.

I remember once my mom told me that every year when she puts away her Christmas decorations she wonders where she'll be when she gets them out again the following holiday season. What will have changed in her life? What ups and downs will have occurred? Ever since then I find myself wondering the same thing. I know that if you had told me a year ago what my life would've gone through, there are things I wouldn't have believed. 2015 was a roller-coaster year, but so much good happened and I ended the year on such a positive note that I can only hope 2016 equals it. I know I will look back on some things and wish I had done them differently or wish they hadn't happened. This is true of life. But I also know there will be things I will be glad happened to me and experiences I will never forget. So maybe as I stare at my boxes waiting to be stored at my mom's (studio apartment with no storage space = thankful for nearby family) that can be the anticipation that makes today a little less depressing: anticipation of the possibilities of 2016. Anticipation of everything that this next year will bring me and the growth I will encounter. I've got a good feeling about this year and I can't wait to see where I'll be when these decorations go up in November.

Rocky's not ready to let go of Christmas yet.