relator

StrengthsQuest was the bane of my existence at McPherson College when I was there. Shortly after being hired, I was asked to complete this questionnaire to tell me what my five Strengths were. I got them and then was promptly defined by those five Strengths throughout our fall training. Umm...I am not my Strengths.

Well, I am my Strengths, but I am not only defined by these Strengths. Isn't that was makes us, as humans, interesting? The complexity of who we are? I'm not just these five things. I'm so much MORE.

Dangit.

Plus, the person who was pigeonholing me is a crazy bitch. Sorry, it's the only word to describe her. Our relationship was less than stellar. One of the top reasons I left.

It's almost blissful to not have her in my life any more. Ahh...but enough of that nonsense, this blog is about ME dangit. I'm not wasting my thoughts on HER.

I've been thinking about my Strengths: Empathy, Relator, Includer, Developer and Activator. (Basically, I like people, I like to know people, and I like to get stuff done.) I think about them mostly because when I feel that these areas of my life (in addition to other aspects not defined by these 5 strengths) are unfulfilled, my overall satisfaction of myself also declines.

wah-wah.

I was thinking about my Relator Strength (Definition of Relator: People who are especially talented in the Relator theme enjoy close relationships with others. They find deep satisfaction in working hard with friends to achieve a goal.) yesterday when I read this posting on another blog (This Is Reverb, it's a hip pastor in Ohio who likes to cook and take pictures, sounds like stuff I'm interested in, right?):

1. Am I okay with having surface-level relationships with everyone?
2. Outside of my family, who can I really trust?
3. Do I have people in my life that I can call at 3am when everything is falling apart?
4. Are there people around me who can strengthen me when I’m weak?
5. Am I using my God-given gifts, talents, or abilities to serve my friends?
6. Am I investing MORE or LESS into the relationship than the person I’m trying to build a relationship with?

Steps towards authentic community:

1. Choose wisely. You don’t need to be friends with everyone.
2. Get coffee, have someone over for dinner, go play a game, etc..
3. Be intentional. Ask a deeper question // reciprocate.
4. Work at it. Don’t assume a relationship is fine.
5. Be transparent and authentic yourself.

Whoa.

Hello.

I'm still pondering. Some answers are easy and others...not so much. Is it that I don't want to admit the truth about myself to myself or that I'm unwilling?

Such deep thoughts.

Prejudice #2

I have no rational prejudices against men. I love men of all looks: bald, gingers, Asian, nerdy, athletic, tall, curly, leggy-I love good legs, smart, ambitious, curious, beards, artsy, funny, dark-skinned, pale, tattoos, emo, happy, chubby, etc.

As I said, I am NOT rational.

So, when I see a man with this. I judge. Well, I don't really judge, it's more that I reject.

Wearing rings.

Like on his hands. I don't know what it is, I just find this unappealing.

I'll admit to checking the left ring finger of pretty much every man I meet/see. A ring=taken. I'm cool with that. I don't even think negatively of this.

It's the other rings that slay me. SLAY. Who am I, "I have been slayed by a ring"?

Please, help me now.

Class rings, pretty rings, GOLD rings, silver rings--ick. I don't like them.


Except on this one guy I met once, but he was a musician and the ring (only one on the middle finger) was really cohesive with his whole look.

Or maybe he was just REALLY appealing.

Dear Ms. Stephenie Meyer,

I love your books. I blew through Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse and Breaking Dawn (and The Host) last summer. I can't decide if I love Edward or Jacob more, I feel this is a sign of your excellent writing, seeing that I am a rational person understanding that they are fictional characters.


After seeing the movie, good, although not nearly as good as the Twilight in my imagination (or your imagination, really) I heard about the Midnight Sun and was very excited for it's release.

Unfortunately, then I heard that you weren't going to finish it. WHAT?!?! You're going to leave half of the story UNTOLD? Are you crazy? If I feel this adamantly about the release of Midnight Sun, I can only imagine how your fanatical fans are behaving.

I'm not fanatic. I'm merely looking for closure. (Ok, I might be a little crazy.)

In ending, I read the partial draft of Midnight Sun. AND I HAVE BEEN LEFT HANGING. HANGING.

Please remedy this.

Love,
amy

Fact: My friend Becky Snell is coming to visit me TOMORROW! Yay!


Opinion: This was in a craft issue of Oriental Trading. Is it just me or is it slightly offensive? If you get one thing from Oriental Trading they will send you 56,893 catalogs a year. Just because you spent $12 on tablecloths.


Nonsense: If people are going to leave me alone in the office, the walls should be soundproof so I can sing loudly.

I love a good quote. I'm feeling inspired to paint, but I'm at work, so photo editing will have to do. ( :

I've got an itch to be crafty. Watch out weekend!

What's your favorite quote?

xoxox

shameless plug

GOOD MORNING!

(I'm in a good mood because I don't have school today, which means I don't have homework due, which means I can do whatever I want at work today since I'm not working on homework. YAY!)

I got dressed for casual Wednesday (this doesn't really exist, but since I wanted to wear jeans...) and put on a white top and these fantastic earrings.

My friend Michelle made them. She's the one in the tub over on the left side of your screen. And she's HOT. The kind of girl you want to take home to your mama (or just home period).


Well, she's one crafty lady and she has an Etsy site. It's fab. I'm thinking about getting these earrings...

or these ones...

The ones named after me are definitely my favorites though.

Those are what I'm wearing today. ( :

Do you know about Etsy? Is anyone else as obsessed with it as I am?

I love the fabric...


The jewelry...

This guy is one of my favorites.

The clothes...


This stuff...

I don't know what I'd do with it, but this guy is another favorite of mine.

It's pretty much a smorgasbord of craftiness which I can't resist. I think I'd get my wedding invitations from here...unless my mom stamps them for me.

Wedding invitations? What am I talking about? Step one: date.

Prejudice

I often talk about my single-ness. It's one of those things, when you're 26 and single it sometimes feels like you have the plague.

What's wrong with me?
Why doesn't he like me?
Why is he too old?
Why is he gay?
Why is he married/in a relationship?
Why is he a loser?
Why? Why? WHY?

Am I going to be a Crazy Cat Lady?

So I ask myself these questions...and then I suck it up and I'm honest. As many qualities as I enjoy about men (I could go on for hours), I have those other nagging things that make me prejudiced about them.

So, I'm going to share my prejudices with you. One at a time, so as not to be too overwhelming.

My first prejudice:

Tenors.

I know it's ridiculous. I can't help it. I think if someone was an average to below average tenor, I might (might) be able to live with it. However, for those of you who know me well...there is only room for one diva in a relationship and that's going to have to be me.

I can't believe I just said that.

NOT that I haven't said it before (or thought it several times), but I don't think I've ever typed it. This is why I'm destined to be single.

Back to tenors...most of the tenors I've known over the years have this "thing," I don't know what to call it...maybe a stick up their butt? So the "thing" doesn't appeal to me. I don't know that I've ever even been attracted to a tenor. Even before I knew the vocal quality of his head tone.

Hmm...interesting.

I also think it has something to do with how I perceive masculinity and femininity in relationship to how I see myself and the things I hold around my own femininity.

So that's my first prejudice.

Please don't hold it against me. Please don't hate me.

Bring on the baritones, basses and tone-deaf singers (or non-singers)!



(side note--I'm apologizing now for all the ellipses in this post.)
(and my out of control cleavage)

whee!

I'm living by myself this summer. It's good for me. For the first time, I am not living with another person or in a building occupied by about a hundred college students. It's good for me. I go home to a people empty apartment occupied by a loud-mouth cat. It's good for me.



Ok, I don't like it.



This was a school weekend. Yay! A weekend of massage and seeing some of my favorite people! And, I got to hang out with some of the ladies from my class.

Everyone had some margaritas and vino. Except me, I had water. I like water.

My hand is the one with the tattoo for those of you who can't tell the difference between my water glass and the others.

Dorothy has two dogs which wanted to be loved on all the time.

Some of us were more than willing to give them that love, Carey is a dog person.

Jerry was my favorite. He has expressive eyebrows. They drank the pool water. It's a salt-water pool! It's yummy! (If you're a dog.) Sophie is on the left and Jerry on the right.

















Theresa loved the dogs and Jerry had a special love for her too. Like, "I-love-you, please-love-me-back, if-you-love-me-can-I-sit-in-your-lap?" doggy kind of love.


We swam, we ate, we drank, we danced, we cooked.

Missy making it pretty.

Dorothy fed us delicious burritos, salad and esspresso brownies. Yum!

Missy and Lydia

Mary Grace does have cleavage, she does! Cristina approves.

After a late night of eating, talking and other nonsense we didn't want to go to school the next morning. We wanted to drink coffee, sit, chat and cuddle.



And, now that I'm at work I want to go back and do all of those things again. Who needs work? Can I get paid to drink coffee and sit and chat? I know, cuddling might cost extra.

We also may have done a little skinny-dipping. I'm not sure who would instigate such a thing though....

Ahh!

I'm feeling flustered, busy and like things are just on the verge of spiraling out of control. This is normal right?

Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.

( :

Try not to smile.

I double-dog dare you.

I'll admit it...

I have a small confession to make. Besides baked goods, I eat pretty healthily. Veggies, fruit, peanut butter...I limit my processed foods, rarely eat something pre-made unless I'm lazy or late.

I have an obsession with getting enough fiber. We don't eat enough, you know. For breakfast I usually have this:

Kashi Go Lean has 10 grams of fiber per cup! You're impressed I know. I eat it with skim milk while I check my internet stuff.


HOWEVER, that is not my confession.












This is my confession:

I have mad, mad love for...mayonnaise. I know. It's gross. It's thick. It's basically fat and oil. But I love it! Egg salad, potato salad, tuna salad, on a tomato...I'm in heaven.

Does it make it better that it's Lite Mayonnaise?

thoughts...

Sometimes I want to be a kept woman.

I want to have babies and a husband and animals.

I want to go see museums and theatre.

I will make my husband cuddle with me.

Sometimes I want to live in a cozy cottage by the sea.

I want to wake up in the morning and walk in the waves.

I want to curl up when it's cold with a book looking at the gray water.

I want to have a front porch with wisteria over the top.

Sometimes I want to travel the world and eat delicious food.

I will eat anything that includes the words "chocolate-hazlenut".

I would probably even eat meat.

I would walk everywhere though, so hopefully I won't get too plump.

Really?

I was reading last month's Glamour (which happens to be one of my favorite magazines) and I came across an article about everyday confessions of women. Or something like that.

Anyways I read this one (which, I am totally guilty of like 75% of the time) and I WAS SHOCKED.

Not that I was shocked that people don't brush their teeth before going to bed, but the whole, mouth smelling like a porta-potty thing. Eww. I know that I've encountered this with other people, but I never thought that my mouth could smell like fecal matter.

What does my mouth taste like when it smells like this? I mean, it's never tasted like I imagine poo would based on the smell. So how do you know? I really want to know this. It's both research and a potential future relationship saver. You know?

So, next time my mouth smells like poo and you're around me, I want to know. I promise I won't be offended. I might get self-conscious, but I won't be angry at you. I WANT TO KNOW.

This is important stuff.

Playing by Ear

These are my friends Mary Grace and Aaron.



They're fun. They have these two cute kittens.

Sweet Tea:

Molasses:


MG and Aaron invited me over for dinner and they fixed some of the most delicious fish and portabello mushrooms on the grill ever. EVER. I would have taken a picture but I was too distracted by eating and watching the kittens.

Did I mention they're cute?

This time I wanted to bring something with me. (MG and Aaron just fed me on Thursday night and I didn't bring anything to share--I'm a bad guest sometimes.) And Grace suggested dessert (YAY!) but said that Aaron doesn't much care for chocolate (boo.)

After thinking for a bit, I remembered a yummy concoction my friend, Shaun, made last year combining ice cream and cream cheese and making these ice cream balls with graham cracker around them. I didn't really want to take the time to make balls and roll them in graham crackers, so I changed things up a bit.

To start with I took my graham crackers and made a crust. I did it in the food processor...graham crackers, sugar and melted butter. Then I cooked it for about 10 minutes until it was crispy.





I made a little extra to put on top.


After that I sliced and diced up my strawberries. I put the lemon zest on the strawberries and stuck them in the fridge to stay cold. (I didn't want them to get too juicy because I didn't want my ice cream to turn pink.) This was a wrong move...the strawberries were too large and became ice cubes in the middle of the ice cream, maybe next time I'll just make it pink and then it'll be easier to eat.



In my mixer I put in softened cream cheese, vanilla bean ice cream, lemon juice and powdered sugar. After it was all combined I folded in the strawberries.

The ice cream mixture went on top of the cooled graham cracker crust and then the extra crust was crunched up on top. Then I put it in the freezer to get hard.

Since it was experimental my expectations weren't high, but it was pretty good if I do say so myself. Kind of like lemony-strawberry ice cream cheesecake.

I don't know what to call it, but it is tasty. ( : Here's the recipe with adjustments so that you have enough for a 9 x 9 pan.

Crust:
-12 graham crackers (these are the small square kind, half of the full rectangle)
-1/3 cup sugar
-1/2 cup butter, melted
Combine in food processor. Pat into 9 x 9 pan and bake at 350 for 10 minutes, put any extra crust in a separate pan and bake at the same time.

Ice Cream Filling:
-One pint strawberries
-2 lemons
-5 oz. cream cheese
-1/2 tub vanilla ice cream
-1/3-2/3 cup powdered sugar

Slice strawberries and combine with zest from one lemon. Set aside. With mixer/blender combine softened cream cheese, vanilla ice cream and lemon juice. Depending on level of tartness add between 1/3 and 2/3 cups powdered sugar. Fold in strawberries. On cooled crust, pour ice cream filling. Top with extra crust. Freeze 2 or more hours.

Dear facebook,

Stop seducing me.

I must be productive. You will never return my love the way I need it.

With all your friend updates, status updates, tagged pictures, photo albums, relationship updates and lexulous I never seem to be doing what I need to do. The power you give me to stalk my friends is just too much.

I'm taking a break from you, facebook. (But, only for one day, so don't feel too badly.)

Love,
amy

Work Pet Peeves

1. I open the mail, yes, it's lame, but someone has to do it and that someone is moi. When I open a request and it asks for a number with a blank next to it, don't write in "don't remember" or "I don't know". If you just left it blank so I could fill it in, don't you think I would assume these things? When the space is left blank, I don't think "Suzy Joe Schmoe must remember her ID number and is just leaving it blank to be a pain in my ass." I think, "Oh, this person must not know their ID number." because that is logical.

2. When you call a large institution you're not going to go directly to the person you need to talk to. Expect to be transferred several times. Also, STOP TELLING ME STORIES THAT ARE 5 MINUTES LONG. It's not that I don't care, it's that I can't help you because I'm obviously the first person answering the phone and therefore low-man (woman) on the totem pole.

3. Don't take personal calls at work. If you do, do it with discretion and keep it short. I don't want to hear about your memories, sex life, or other details that are just TOO MUCH INFORMATION. This is work, let's keep it professional. (I say this knowing that I'm a complete and total hypocrite as I blog at work.)

4. Parents, why are you calling to help when your child register for GRADUATE SCHOOL classes? Your child is an adult. Cut the apron strings. Find a hobby. Stop babying him/her.

Babies

I have a thing...
baby dogs
baby cats
baby humans
I can't control my desire to want these things in my life. Babies are cute. They're fun. They're snuggly.

And, I like them.

As I was walking up to my apartment yesterday I heard peeping. Aww, baby birds! They're little squeaky voices, the sound of springtime.

Then I looked down.

And this little guy was looking right back at me.

He fell down from his nest.

His brothers and sisters were in that very last hole on the left, so this little baby had survived quite a fall!

He posed for a couple of pictures.

(He has big feet, but don't tell him that because then he might become self-conscious.)


And, then I picked him up to moved him over closer to the building with the hopes that he wouldn't get eaten by one of the cats that wander around our complex or stepped on by another resident.

They say (Who is this "they"? I don't know.) that a mother bird will take her baby back even if you touch it. So I touched. But, how would she get him back up to the nest? On her back? In one of those little white bag things like a stork? By the nape of his scrawny neck like a cat?


As much as I love a baby anything, this one is pretty ugly. Not even that so-ugly-its-cute thing, just UGLY.

He wasn't there when I walked by an hour and a half later, so maybe he survived...maybe?