Praise the Lord it's not 1999 anymore. I have no patience to link to 99 memories here. Also, this happened in '99-
Well Britney, it's 20142015. We don't just do the emails anymore. We also do the facebook and the twitter and the instagram and the tumblr and the google plus.
Just kidding. No one does google plus.
Let's get on with it, shall we?
Just when you thought I was done with 90s references.
Fourteen memories of my 2014:
Learning the accordion for Two Gentlemen of Verona
So...what are you going to do?
A common question people have asked me while back at home this summer.
Kinda vague-sounding, but I completely understand what they're implying.
What (in the heck) am I going to do with my life after I graduate?
That can become a very heavy question very quickly. Think "cartoon spiral of doom" style. Here, let me sum it up for you with some gifs real quick -
My go-to answer is always something along the lines of - "Well, God made it very clear that London was the choice for me a year ago, so I'm counting on that happening again." Truthfully though, I think that's a bit of a cop-out. Not to say that it's untrue, but it oversimplifies some very complex situations and (more importantly) gives me way too much credit in implying that I will automatically trust God with His decision.
But people (most people) don't want a whole blog post for an answer. They want to hear- "I'm going to teach" or "I'm going to Hollywood to make it as a big time movie star" or "I'm marrying this English Baron I've been seeing and am going to live out the remainder of my life as closely to that of a Disney princess as possible."
Then a couple of days ago, I listened to David Smoak's interview of backup Baylor RB Silas Nacita. I would encourage everyone to give it a listen here, but I understand that not all of my tens of devoted blog readers bleed green and gold like myself, so let me give you some quick background info.
Silas transferred from Cornell to come play at BU last year and found out last minute that his financial aid hadn't come through. He spent the whole year taking community college classes online - just scraping by and hoping for the chance that this year he would be back with his team.
Thankfully, he is. Not only is he doing really well (three TDs so far this season) but he's also amassed quite the following from the Baylor community due to one of the best player nicknames I've ever heard. Go due yourself a favor and search #salsanacho on Twitter.
I googled "salsa nacho gif" and this is what the internet gave me. Thank you once again for never letting me down, internet.
The whole interview is amazing (seriously, take ten minutes and listen) but this one particular question and answer towards the end is just something else.
DS: You score that touchdown against SMU. Does it feel like- it's all worth it at that point?
SN: I don't think it was about coming here and making a name for myself. I think what God taught me was that it wasn't about ever getting back to Baylor. It wasn't about coming here and scoring touchdowns and making my name famous. It was about understanding where I could be joyful in my life regardless if I had football, if I had school, if I had all the things that I wanted. It was about finding joy in life and it was really in Him. He gave me that joy to where I didn't need all this stuff and so when I did get here and when I am gonna be a part of it, it'll never be about me. It'll always be about somebody greater or somebody else. So I think that, just to be able to score a touchdown...it's just a "thank you, God."
Cut to a few days later. I'm listening to the first of Matt Chandler's sermons in his new series called "A Beautiful Design." Lucky for me, the Village put up the perfect 2 minute clip of it on their YouTube channel -
We were created by a creator. Which means - this is gonna sting a little bit - we are not the measure of anything...Just to be more direct and straight with you since we have this strong relationship -
You're not the point.
I'm not the point.
We're not the point.
In the expanse of the universe, even though we have a special place in the creative order...you and I as created beings are not the point - The creator's the point.
And I'll tell you why this rubs us the wrong way- we wanna be the point.
I do. I want to be the point so badly sometimes.
When I think about that question of "what are you going to do?" my mind easily translates it to "what kind of name are you going to make for yourself?" I think of all the ways I might be successful, all the ways I might fail, what jobs I'll get, what city I'll live in, on and on. The entertainment industry strives on self. Yes, theatre is a collaborative art form (and I love it for that) but the culture of these "I'm gonna make it big" cities is very "me, myself, and I" based. How can I make my name great? It's so easy to slip into that, to want that, to work for that.
Silas could so easily turn his story into a "look at everything I've done" moment and no one would fault him. But instead he did the complete opposite. His answer broke my heart in all the best ways. That humility is...well, humbling.
Ultimately, no matter how much I love performing, I have to have that same conviction that Silas does. To borrow from his words- I want to be joyful in my life regardless of if I have theatre, if I find the perfect job, get the perfect role, get any role. I want to find joy in life through Christ so that if I am ever "successful" - I'll already know that it isn't about me. As Chandler eloquently reinforced, it'll never be about me. It's about my creator.
So...what am I going to do?
Whatever the year after grad school brings me (even if no touchdown equivalents are involved) I want to be able to say "thank you, God" with my full heart. That's my prayer.
I fly back to London on Wednesday. It's been a wonderful summer, Texas.
To making it about Him,
p.s. - If you want to see all of Matt's sermon, it's available here to watch or listen to.
I've had a wonderful break here at home. Friends and family quality time. A fantastic short term nanny job that dropped into my lap. Opportunities to regroup physically, emotionally, mentally, and all those others -allys from the past year.
In short, I've had a lot of time and space and I've spent it caught up in two places: dwelling in past seasons of my life and anticipating future ones.
Physical settings are often strongly associated with a specific time in my life. Hewitt/Woodway (the Waco burbs for those non-Central Texans) has my mind lost in decade-old high school memories. Waco and Baylor absorb me back into that magical undergrad experience. Traveling two hours north to DFW has me caught up in the first true support net I made for myself - that dear time and place where I had to become an adult of sorts.
I love revisiting all of these places and times. Through the grace of God and really good parents, I was able to navigate all three of these seasons fairly well. Each gave me cherished memories, relationships, and learning experiences. (In fact, I'm still learning from my time as a 17 year old.)
However, spending months amongst these places comes with strings attached in the form of heavy nostalgia. For me this leads to a kind of sweet melancholy. You can only engage so closely with former successful versions of your life for so long before a little bit of mourning comes into play. There are a few "what ifs" and some "if onlys" that will always be there, but there's also a lot of "I wish I still" and "I had no idea how good I had it."
See, the whole concept of seasons is not one of the things they warn you about when it comes to being an adult.
Of course there'll always be hundreds of people shouting out the normal words of advice:
"Use sunscreen now, unless you want skin cancer and crows' feet at 40."
"Whatever you do, stay out of credit card debt."
"Change that box of baking soda in your fridge."
In those three years out of college, I became really good at adjusting to typical adult things: budgeting, paying bills on time, getting my car's oil changed frequently, making it to work a few minutes early, eating green leafy foods, not letting my cat die (even though he tried kinda hard once).
But I was so unprepared for seasons. And I still am.
How do you mourn an era of your life? Is it ok to do that?
Why can't things be the same? Why can't you ever truly go back?
What if you don't want to move on yet?
No matter how perfect my current season looks to be, I'll always have an ache in the parts of my heart devoted to past versions of that current season.
I'll never have the metabolism or dance ability of senior year of high school again.
I'll never have the excitement of living with my best friend in the middle of Baylor campus again.
I'll never have the exact meeting of circumstances that made working at GFAA such pure joy again.
I don't want to go back and completely relive these times, but I miss the gifts they gave me that only existed for that certain period of time. The freedom of college, the naivety of high school, the dreams of a young graduate - these things all have expiration dates. Sometimes it seems simpler to go back before they became the spoiled milk in the fridge (that you didn't notice because of you always remember to change your baking soda box).
No matter how this writing is coming off, it's not a depressing thing. It's definitely bittersweet and a bit sobering maybe, but rediscovering old seasons for me has mainly been a roadmap of God's blessings throughout the last ten years of life. Seeing how much I've been provided for, how much grace has been extended my way - it's easy to get a little lost in it. But it's a beautiful kind of lost.
Dr. Seuss (as always) hits the nail on the head.
On top of all this sentimentality, my summer is a holding pattern of sorts in waiting for my final year of grad school to begin. I'm in the middle of my "London season"...but I'm not in London! It's strange to be missing this grad school season while I'm still in the midst of it.
I also can't stop my brain from imagining its aftermath. There are so many open ended questions for my next season and that bothers me. I get overwhelmed at the too-many options my roadmap shows for a year from now. What if I pick wrong? Move to the wrong city? Bet on the wrong opportunity? What if there are no opportunities?
Just like George RR Martin's readers, I desperately want to be assured that my fan theories are correct and that things are headed the way I want them to go. Or in the very least that my next book will be greater than its predecessors (but hopefully with a lot less violent deaths than George is like to put in).
Also, none of this tool.
Ultimately though, worry is eclipsed by excitement. My anxiousness over the possibilities doesn't match my glee over having them.
And I'm sure a few years down the road, a part of me will long for that lazy, Texas summer I got to spend not caught up in the problems of my present, but instead dreaming about the memories of my past and the secrets of my future.
To the beautiful bittersweetness of seasons,
p.s. - I made a little something about some of the many activities I actually have been up to this summer. I love you so much, Wacotown.
Though I initially wasn't planning for it, I'm going home for spring break. Since we're on a three term system over here, our spring break is later and longer than those in the US. So in less than two weeks I will find myself back again on Texas soil for a whole fortnight. (Yes. I said fortnight.)
Now, I absolutely love London. The UK is a wonderful place to live, but it's just not quite home. (Not yet, anyway.) So in anticipation, I thought I would share a list of all the little things this Texan misses the most about her native land.
1. Diet DP
A fresh fountain Diet Dr. Pepper from Chick-fil-a or Whataburger is just the most delicious poison I allow myself to drink on the regular. Have I mentioned that Dr. Pepper was invented in my hometown? If not, you haven't been paying close enough attention. I say that at least once a month.
Speaking of Whataburger…
2. Whataburger
This food will be available in heaven. I'm certain of it. Also along the food lines...
3. Delicious Mexican/Tex-Mex food
Fuzzy's, Rusty, Torchy's Tacos - I love them all despite their very questionable choices for restaurant naming.
Ok, just one more food thing…
4. Real bacon
In the UK, they have this stuff called "streaky bacon." Now at the end of the day, it's meat from a pig, so I probably won't turn my nose up at it…but it's just not the real thing.
5. Driving
You have to drive everywhere in Texas. I know how bad that is for the environment, but when things are twenty miles minimum away - it's just a fact. You don't realize how personal and important that little bit of space is until you never have it anymore. Driving to work or an audition or wherever was such an important preparation for my day. It got me ready to face the world in some kind of way.
Plus…I like to sing. Singing in my car doesn't bother anyone. I can wail along to TSwift (not ashamed) and all is right with the world. I miss that.
6. Sporting events I understand/care about
Ok, so first off, yes, you can be a fan of both professional baseball teams in Texas. Second off, I think the Astros should only ever play in vintage rainbow uniforms. Thirdly- sic 'em bearrrrrrs.
The sports here are…different. Rugby is legitimately crazy. Did you know they show curling on TV at times that are not the Olympics? Don't even get me started on the mess that is cricket. Soccer- excuse me, football- is fine, but I prefer games where 2-0 isn't a blow out. (I make an exception for hockey, because that sport is epic.)
7. Unified door opening/closing directions
Due to unfortunate events that happened in the US several decades ago, practically all doors in public spaces have to open outward. This means when you walk up to a store, you just pull toward you. No biggie.
Well, things aren't that simple in the UK. Sometimes you pull, sometimes you push. Most of the time, Jenny looks like a hilarious dweeb who never learned the basic lesson of HOW TO ENTER A ROOM. I swear sometimes it takes me three tries. Think about that- three tries. Doors in London do not like me.
8. Stores with legit opening hours
We get out of class at 6:10. Eighty percent of the stores on our high street close at 6. SIX. I mean, luckily we have the kebab and chicken place open until 11 for emergencies, but if you need to pick up some green beans or cold medicine or laundry detergent- sorry. Only available to grad students on the weekends, evidently. There is one 24 hour grocery store located twenty minutes and seven tube stops away if you're desperate though. Have fun with that.
9. Stores I love
What red-blooded American girl doesn't love strolling down the aisles of Target with absolutely no purpose at hand?
None of these little things compare to the big ones - my family, my friends, my dear strange cat Zorro. I'm ready for their hugs, laughter, and crinkly-eyed smiles. That's what really makes Texas home.
To prove my love for London at some point I'm sure I'll have to do an opposite-style follow-up to this post. Truth be told- there are many things I prefer over here! These are just the things that a Texan's mind dwells on when they get homesick. Luckily, I'll have all these things in my sight (plus much more) soon enough!
Not to worry- I've worked off approximately 15% of all that food via the Cotton Belt Trail in McGregor. That thing is way prettier than the smell emanating from the adjacent city dump would have you believe.
I've also caught up with friends, mentors, coworkers, students, sorority sisters, and one very emotionally-needy kitty.
After spending a few days in DFW and approximately 36 hours in East Texas to visit my dad's family, I was finally able to settle in for a Waco Christmas. Some of my favorite pictures from the day:
My aunt painted this for my two sweet nieces. She knows the King family well.
Speaking of, Chandler is SUCH a happy baby.
My aunt always slips a new ornament onto our tree for us to find later. Very sneaky!
Literally every member of the family received a Baylor gift. Mine ended up being all in black. No complaints here.
Mom's cross stitching: going strong for 26 years. #quality
My friend John and I went to look at Christmas lights later that night. We traveled through the rich people neighborhoods, but didn't get to the super great tacky stuff until we got back towards Woodway.
I mean obviously I am a fan of any Baylor-themed Christmas lights, but I wanna see a yard where I think your December electric bill must be at least 300 dollars.
Thankfully, Wooded Crest Drive never disappoints.
And just in case you ever start to lose faith in humanity, here's a video of Chandler discovering tissue paper.
Luke 2:19 is not the norm for a favorite Christmas verse, but it has always captured my attention. I love how it breaks the flow of the language and makes the narrative very personal all of a sudden. We've just had heavenly hosts filling the sky and who knows how many shepherds bursting into this barn and you know those sheep had to be bleating up a storm. It's the most beautiful, chaotic celebration swiftly contrasted with this verse of pure stillness, silence, and gratitude. How fitting for the moments after Christ's arrival to be filled with both things.
I hope your holiday was as great a reminder of your blessings as mine was. To the last days of 2013!
