conundrums. and makeup. and food.

Alright. So this whole get up and run in the morning thing? It's all fun and games (no it's not) until YOU EAT ALL OF THE FOOD IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE BECAUSE YOU ARE SO HUNGRY ALL DAY AFTER THAT. Seriously. If I were currently tracking my caloric intake, I think that MyFitnessPal would break. So while I like the feeling of accomplishment and superiority that comes with running in the morning, I do not like stuffing my face all day. I mean, well, actually I do like stuffing my face, but I will not like the end result of that after a few weeks. There's no way running 2 miles burns enough calories to justify 11 extra meals. No way. So...what's up with that?

Also: what's up with fashion this fall. Not fashion in general- I'm a fan of most everything this season (except booties...heck no). It's just that I'm going to a cousin's wedding in October and I'm looking for a dress and like--- what? No. No, no, no. Maybe I'm totally out of touch with fashion or something, but this should not be so hard. So please tell me: what should a 30 year old fashionista (hahaha) such as myself be wearing to an outdoor (park), casual-ish evening wedding in October in Charlotte, NC, and where do I buy it? My budget is on the Target-Old Navy-Forever 21 end of things, although exceptions could be made for exceptional dresses. Bonus points if I can wear it to work the rest of the fall/winter, too. Oh, and Matt's a groomsman and they're wearing these pants (in Russian Red)...so I would like to not clash with him.

In more positive fashion news, my box of Sephora goodies came in! 

I am looooving the Urban Decay Dangerous Palette. So far I've used Deeper, Loaded, and Evidence (mixed in with shades from some other palettes I have) and it's been excellent. So many great looks...so few appropriate places to wear them. The good thing about bangs, though, is that it makes it hard for people to notice your not-appropriate-for-daytime eye makeup. I mean, it's a bad thing, too, because I can spend 30 minutes on my eyes and then no one can see them. But it's okay. I know they look awesome, and I can pull up my bangs and admire their awesomeness to my heart's content in the mirror and that's all that really matters, I guess. 

In other news, I am still declaring eMeals to be the Best Thing Ever. We have made 3 meals and I am itching to get home and make tonight's (Spinach and Feta Pie; Orzo with Olives). It is definitely doing the trick and making me excited to cook at home. Sit down, because I'm going to share some shocking news. I didn't even go to Taco Tuesday this week. I KNOW. This hasn't happened in like...2 years or something (without extenuating circumstances like being out of town). And I chose to cook instead of go to Taco Tuesday. Don't expect that to be a regular occurrence or anything, but it seemed noteworthy to me.

Well, back to my regularly-scheduled online hunt for a dress. And another hour of trying really hard to not go raid my co-worker's candy jar while I wait for Matt to finish working late...gaaaaaahhhhhh. 

the confession booth

Join me in the confessional for a few moments, will you?

1. I may be 30 years old and supposedly mature, but I must admit that this week I decided to teach a co-worker a valuable life lesson (slash pay him back for a way he legitimately wronged me) by means of seriously pranking his office when he was away at a conference. I'm sure I could have handled this issue by means of like...conflict-resolution or a serious conversation, but neither of those has quite the same appeal to me that messing around with his office/mind did. This consequently made yesterday, the day he came back and discovered all of my work, a great day...I got to watch him discover the many layers of my pranking as the day went on. And he hasn't found everything yet. I consider the best pranking to be the kind where they're still discovering stuff months down the road, and it looks like I succeeded with that here. Point: Erika!

2. Throughout my whole life I have selected running/workout shoes based 100% on the following qualities (in this order): price, cuteness, comfort. This means that my shoes have always been within my budget, reasonably cute, and at least semi-comfortable. However, now that I am anciently old and my body is falling apart...and yet I still desire to remain active and in-shape...I have decided to go to an actual running store and get a legit fitting/consultation for my next shoes. I'm pretty excited about the whole process, really, because it looks really scientific and fun-- they videotape your legs/feet while you run on a treadmill so that they can analyze your stride, you stand on this scanner thing that will analyze the way your weight distributes on your feet, and also you bring in your old running shoes so that they can analyze the 'wear' pattern. I mean, that sounds awesome. And then it's like a multi-part fitting/selection process for new shoes. I'm pretty pumped...or I will be as long as my future shoes still end up being cute and neon. But ever since I've decided to do this, I'm thinking about it all the time while I run (still in my old Asics). And I think I have possibly too lofty of expectations for my future shoes. Like, early in my run I start thinking about how 'oh, when I have my new shoes my knees might not hurt!' and then my feet get sore and I'm like 'if I had my NEW shoes, my feet would still feel great!'...and those things are hopefully true. But after a mile or so (which to me is like...long distance...haha) I think I become delirious in my expectations. When I have my new shoes, I bet my lungs won't hurt when I run!! ...because Mizunas cure asthma or something??...if I had my NEW shoes on, my thighs would definitely not be chafing...stupid old shoes...trust me, if shoes gave you instantly thinner thighs, I would have already bought them. When I have my new shoes, I am going to be so much more awake and have more energy and run further!! Good luck living up to all this, New Shoes. Bless your heart(s?).

3. (BITTER INFERTILE PERSON WARNING!) Like most people, I'm pretty excited to see fall coming...I'm only sad that fall happens to coincide with one of my least favorite times of year to be on social media/around people with kids: the time change. This twice-annual event is, evidently, the WORST THING IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE for lucky bastards with kids. And everyone needs to know about it. All the time. For at least a month surrounding the actual blasted event. I mean, forget war...poverty...mass shootings...disease...floods. PEOPLE HAVE TO SPEND AN EXTRA HOUR OR THREE CUDDLING/BEING WITH WITH THEIR OFF-SCHEDULE BABIES! THE INJUSTICE!!! THE MISERY!!! Trust me, I'm crying a river on your behalf. Really. If I had a dollar for every time I heard someone complain about the awfulness of the time change, I could afford a lot more infertility treatments. Sorry for the bitterness. It's just...yeah. Seriously. Sorry.

4. So there's this snack mix in the break room at work. It was left over from some kind of event over the weekend...one of those homemade Chex mix-type things, where they mixed all the components together and then put some kind of seasoning on it and baked it. And it is possibly the most delicious thing I've ever tasted. So salty. So many delicious ingredients (Chex! Golfish! GOOD mixed nuts- like pecans, pistachios, almonds, and cashews! Bugles! Nothing sweet!)...the seasoning...I mean, it's ridiculous. And I should be ashamed to admit that my work week has basically revolved around that snack mix. "After I do X and Y, I will get snack mix." "If I complete Z by 11:00, I will get snack mix!" And when I hear other people commenting on how tasty it is, I get really panicky because I fear that they are going to eat it all and then there will be none left and THEN WHAT WILL I HAVE TO LIVE FOR??? It's a problem. A delicious problem. Unfortunately, at the current trajectory, it looks like it will run out today, so...feel free to pray for fish-and-loaves-type miracles.

Four confessions. If you glean one fact about me out of each confession and put it all together, you can conclude that I am an immature, bitter fatty who is a little bit delusional about shoes. Sounds about right. And now I will bid you adieu. Gotta beat my co-workers to the break room.  

winning

Over the weekend, in an unprecedented act of decisiveness, I decides to go ahead and sign up for eMeals. After less than a week of debate and fact-gathering??!-- I know, who is this person and what did she do with Erika? When it came down to it, it was only $18 for a 3-month subscription...at that price point, it's not much of a gamble. Better to just get it and try rather than think it to death, right? Right. 

So last night was our very first eMeals meal and I was excited about it all day long. We're doing the Mediterranean plan right now because it closely resembles how we like to eat...lots of fresh veggies and fruit, fish, not much meat. We're planning to do four meals this week, Monday through Thursday...then we'll be out of town for the weekend. So it'll be a good kickoff week, I think.

And the verdict from last night??

                                   

Yummmmmmy!!!

We had Mediterranean Stuffed Squash as the main course and Polenta with Wilted Tomatoes for the side. And it was DELICIOUS! And looked really fancy.  Not surprisingly, I spent a lot of time patting myself on the back after we started eating. But seriously. It was yum. 

With one day of eMeals under the belt (literally...), I think I'm fully qualified to say its awesome and everyone should sign up. Tonight is some kind of fish and risotto thing...risotto from scratch?? Wish me luck. 

In other words, I've gotten up early and gone for a run two out of two days this week. That's 100%, for those of you not so mathematically-inclined. So basically, this week I am winning at life. Running AND cooking my own food?? Surely there is a medal for this level of achievement. 

Unfortunately, morning running means I require more coffee to survive...so I am off to Starbucks. Have a happy day!

EDIT: How typical!! This morning my friend received a Groupon email with a freakin' great deal on eMeals!! Sadly, I'm already signed up, but if you're considering it, this would get you a year's worth of meal plans for a song!!

o my soul.

Yesterday morning I was at church early, rehearsing with the worship team. While we were practicing, I saw my phone alert a text message. Since it was from my sister, who isn't normally in the habit of pre-10 a.m. Sunday morning texts, I grabbed my phone to see what was up. 

Many of you probably understand the type of dread that you immediately, unintentionally associate with receiving calls/texts/messages from certain people. With most people (okay, females of child-bearing age) in my life, I immediately, subconsciously brace myself for a pregnancy announcement. You get that feeling in the pit of your stomach that plants itself there for the amount of time it takes you to unlock your phone and access your message. I don't know what your particular 'insta-dread' is-- maybe it's seeing your child's school show up on CallerID. Maybe it's your sick grandmother's caretaker, the one that will definitely be making the call when tragedy strikes. And even though that person may be calling or texting to chat about the weather or chaperoning a field trip or the touchdown in last night's football game-- it's still there. The minute you see their name flash, you assume the worst. Even though 99% of the time a call from that person is innocuous, you're ready for the 1%. The time when the news will be hard to take. The time when your emotions need to be ready.

With my sister...well, her husband is serving in Afghanistan. The level of 'potential bad' that could be in a call or text from her is pretty damn legitimately bad.

This is what she texted me yesterday:

I thank you in advance for ignoring her spelling errors. My sister has a thousand incredible talents-- spelling has never been counted amongst them, so we'll just let it go. ;)

 Is it 'the news'? You know...the news you know every military wife is sitting at home praying they never hear? No. Thank God, this news was not the worst. But it still hit me like a sucker-punch. Right there, in the middle of my practice, I burst out crying.

Because this? It's too hard. And it's not even my husband...but this having your man away at war thing...it's too much. A heart can only bear so much, I think...and knowing that there's nothing but prayer and a Kevlar vest separating the brave members of our troops from...that...I just...I can't. I hate war, and I hate injustice, and I hate guns, and I hate that some people die so that others can live freely. I hate that my sister has to live with the knowledge that her husband may not come home. That one morning, it may not be an email telling her about a close call...it could be men at her doorstep, holding a flag.

It's too much.

And here I was, trying to sing-- trying to worship the God that I fully believe is in control of it all. Who is worthy of all glory, all honor, all praise-- even if the worst happens. Even when then worst happens. Even when life is unfair. And I just...I wept. My heart and my mind and everything, they just can't always put it all together in a neat package and understand how it works. How God is good and his love endures...even when we don't see it. Even when things don't look good. When they don't feel good.

And it's weird, because-- I mean, really, it was kind of a GOOD text, right? I mean...Mark's safe. Some of his men are injured, but they're alive. And so we rejoice, and we thank God for His protection, and we beg for more. But I was suddenly faced with the truth of how fickle my heart is, how easily swayed my faith-- if the news had not been so good, would I still be able to have kept singing? Because it was hard enough as it was...and the news was good.

And then we got to the last song of rehearsal, and it's a song I deeply love. But what I really love is the last part of the song, at the end...and over and over we sing 'o my soul, praise Him...o my soul, praise Him.' And I love that because it's beautiful and it's true. It's over and over in the Psalms, when David is distraught and lost and his life really sucks, and he says 'O my soul- praise Him.' And he's bossing his soul around, you know? He commands his soul...he's like 'soul, I know you're a mess right now, and you're not in a good place, and you don't even understand where God is or what's going on, and you don't know if you'll make it til tomorrow....but PRAISE HIM still.' He doesn't wait for his circumstances to shape back up, or his mind to get in a happier state. He commands his soul to praise Him. And I love that and I need that, because I am like David. If we leave my worship up to my emotions, then I'll praise Him when I feel like it. I'll praise Him when things are going well and people are healthy and money is flowing and Mark and his troops are getting bored from sitting around doing nothing in their barracks all day. And that's fine. But what about all the other days? What about the rest of the time, when things aren't great, when people are sick and relationships are strained and uteruses are broken and civilians are being slaughtered by their own government...and it's just not okay and it's too much.

Then O my soul, praise Him.

Then even still, it is well with my soul.

I'm not a theologian and I don't have a lot of things figured out, but when I am weak and when I am sad and when I want to shake my fist at God and tell him it just isn't fair...I'm learning instead to command my soul to praise Him.

And yesterday I got to do that in real time. As I stood there and wept, and the rest of the band played on and probably wondered why women get so emotional at the drop of a hat, I made the choice to praise Him. And maybe it was a liiiiiittle easier since ultimately, there wasn't any bad news in that text. So I don't know why it plowed me over the way it did. But I am thankful that it happened when and where it did, because while I cried and struggled with why God lets war happen, why innocent people have to die, and why my sister has to go to bed every night wondering whether she'll be awakened by the most horrible news of her life, I was in a safe place where people I love stopped everything to pray with me. To pray for my sister, and her husband, and our troops. Their eyes filled with tears, too, and we hugged and shook our heads and wondered at our fallen humanity and the unfairness of life. 

And then together...o my soul, praise Him. And when our eyes welled with tears again, we reminded one another: O my soul, praise Him.

I am so, so thankful for my community of faith. For a church that doesn't brush hurt and confusion under the rug, but cries along with me-- even as they cry out. For a God of abundant, reckless love. O my soul...praise Him.

PS. The song we sang that had me crying all day is O My Soul by Samuel Lane. If you use this link, the 'o my soul' part starts around 3 minutes. I can guarantee you I'll be singing it all day long...feel free to join me if your soul needs some bossing around. If you want to listen to a much less-polished version, shot with the amazing technology of an iPhone, with lots of off-tune congregational singing mixed in, Matt did record us yesterday at the end of the song. You can watch it, but only if you promise not to laugh at me.