You know those people that you just want to smack upside the head? Yeah me too. I don’t like checking facebook because I always read posts that make me want to say one of the above things.

I sit on my couch with my food and my feet up reading posts. I run across something like

“Stop trying to change me. I refuse to be anyone but myself”

and I’m like. calm down, bro. Calm down. Nobody’s tryin’ to change you, bro. bro? brooooo…

Some people think they’re being courageous and taking a stand of individuality when in all actuality they’re getting worked up over nothing.

The way I see it, we’re all trapped in the prison cell that is life. Some of us have been trapped for a while and we know that there’s no way to get out so we don’t even try. And these poor suckers come along and they haven’t figured it out yet so they raise a ruckus and they try to break free. All the noise and whatnot just annoys the rest of us. In a mild sort of way. Because lets be real, folks, who gives a crap?

In my life I’m learning something about myself. I have to fake outrage a lot. I don’t get worked up a lot. Life goes on, you know?

List of facebook/twitter posts that Grace will gloss over and say “chill out bro”

1. Posts that take a stand against an imagined threat. “I’m going to be myself and anyone who doesn’t like it can suck it!”

calm down.

2. Posts that express excessive amounts of stress over events that are going to happen regardless of said post. “OMG big test tomorrow! SO stressed!”

Shouldn’t you be studying instead of tweeting? Pipe down.

3. Any post that comments about the weather. “It’s snowing. :((((((((((”

calm yo’self.

4. Posts complaining about other people. “Argh! My llama stole my boyfriends cell phone!”

what the…. calm down!

5. Any post complaining about life in general. “I’m so tired I almost fell asleep in class!”

Oh yeah? I woke up at 4:30 AM and went to work for 12 hours. take a chill pill. and maybe a caffeine pill too…

6. Anything in all caps. “ZOMG CATS I LOVE CATS CATS CATS CATS!!!!!!!!!!”

no. shut up.

yeah. Teenagers are pretty messed up.

Part of what God really showed me last semester was that I’m a new creation(I’ve blogged about this, I KNOW. So you can go back in the archives and find the full story on that) and I am being renewed every second of every day.

Cardigan wearers always seemed so fake to me. They weren’t an emotional mess like I was, they had perfect little masks they put on like they didn’t have any problems. I hated that. I felt like I would never be able to connect with any of them because they put their masks on and weren’t real with each other. If there’s anything I’ve always been pretty strict about it’s being real with people. I hate a fake. I hate the facade. (Ironically enough, my facade is almost an antique I’ve had it for so long.)

coming back to the present day, a few weeks ago I bought a cardigan because I have a lot of really cute short sleeved shirts and no long sleeved shirts. I figured instead of buying a bunch of long sleeved shirts I could just buy one cardigan and wear my summer shirts all year round.

It’s true the cardigan is the most adorable thing ever, but as I was walking up to navs this evening I felt like I was being the most deceptive person in the world. I hate Cardigan Wearers! I’m totally not a Cardigan Wearer! Yet here I am wearing a cardigan. Life can be so strange. Sometimes we look like the cardigan wearing type when we obviously aren’t!

Yet the more I thought about cardigan wearers and I thought about the new me that has been redeemed and renewed by Christ the more I felt at home in my new cardigan. Except I’m not lying by presenting the face of innocence and perfection. Yeah okay, I’ve been a few places and done a few things in my short 18.99 years that are less than perfect and definitely don’t fit in with the cardigan, but that stuff doesn’t define who I am. That stuff was washed away the second I gave it to Christ.

Now I just pray I still have compassion for those who are still riddled with guilt and can’t let themselves be washed clean like old, high school me. I never want to give off the “I don’t care” vibe.  Not caring is for…. people who don’t care…? I don’t know…

Moral of this story…. You wear that cardigan!

“I just experienced love at first sight on the bus home. Write about that.”

“I just experienced love at first sight every time the foreign boy walks into class m/w/f. write about that”

Seeing as Valentines day is coming up I thought “what the hey.”

Love at First Sight(n): The moment in time when you look at a complete stranger and you fall in love with them before even knowing their name. Sometimes used to excuse irrational behavior. Most of the time simply a figment of the imagination. Primarily used to make females feel badly about their significant other(or lack there of), eat loads of ice cream whilst watching terrible romantic comedies, and gaze into the eyes of any and all attractive passers by.

So after I updated my status I hopped in the ol’ Cliff and zoomed to the library where love at first sight was waiting for me. But I wasn’t a desperate LAFS whore, I waited until the end of my library trip to pick up that which had so set my heart on fire.

With my mind on my true love I picked up my non-fiction book for the month.

SIDEBAR!!!! Did I mention I made a new years resolution this year? I decided I was going to read one non-fiction book each month this year. January’s book was Forgotten God by Francis Chan. Ah-Mazing! Today I picked up my February.

Surprised by Joy: The Shape of my Early Life by Clive Staples Lewis. I’m pretty stoked! I’m hoping John Ronald Reuel Tolkien makes an appearance. That would make my February!

Then I picked up some trash. Then I looked at the movies. THEN I picked up this hunk of hot.

Yeah baby. Gracie’s got a date for Valentines day! And I might go all the way with this one. But I don’t know…

I have to open it first. I have to get to know it.  I have to make sure it’s not a douche. I have to make sure I wasn’t just swept off my feet.

SIDEBAR!!!! In case you were born under a rock you’ll see that my library is doing BLIND DATES WITH BOOKS!!!! I kinda sorta suggested it on their facebook page about a month ago. Idk if that’s where they got the idea, but I’m super excited to see which book I chose!

I say yes to all of the above….

But there are bigger questions out there. I think about the future a lot and the thing I’ve been dwelling on(but I really shouldn’t be) is whether or not someday I want to have children. WHOOOP! There it is! Just now I was thinking about having a child and my first thought was “Well there’s a lot of stuff that has to happen before this is really a life decision” and my second thought was “what if I was raped and became pregnant” and my third thought was “that would seriously f up my life” and my fourth thought was “GOD WHY AREN’T YOU EFFING UP MY LIFE!!!!”

You see I have this theory. Frankly it’s really uncomfortable when things happen in life. Change. It sucks. It is the exact opposite of comfortable. But without change God wouldn’t be able to mold us into the people He wants us to be. So you can get angry at God when you lose your job or get pregnant or somebody dies…. or you can thank God because He’s molding you into who He wants you to be.  Basically if you’re comfortable you missed the boat. You’re going to live a boring life that will only leave a mark on a gravestone. If you want to do something truly remarkable you have to step into the nitty gritty uncomfortable world.

Here’s my problem though. I look forward to the end of the story and try to skip all the growing that happens along the way. I’m single right now for a reason. God has a plan for me and He’s teaching me how to be content with Him. He’s teaching me not to put other gods before Him. I have some pretty solid evidence that I’m not “destined” to be single my whole life…. I don’t have the “gift of singleness”. But right now in this moment I have to have it. Cuz that’s the awkward situation I’m in. ::insert ironic, self deprecating laughter here:: The moral of this story is that sometimes the change stops on something uncomfortable and you just want the big Wheel of Fortune to keep on spinning and not land on bankrupt but that isn’t how life works. Sometimes you have to learn to be content with the non-changing awkward.

If I were making a toast I would ask you to drink to the uncomfortable, awesome unknown. But since I am in fact lying on a couch nursing a “woke up at 6, worked for four hours and then watched a season of How I Met Your Mother” headache and NOT making a toast, you can just imagine it in your mind and drink something on your own.

Cheers.

I didn’t know what to write about this lazy Monday so I was procrastinating by watching How I Met Your Mother and facebooking. In the midst of my laziness my friend Brittany the sexy-muffin-face messaged me. Somewhere in the conversation she mentioned that my new facebook profile picture looked a lot like my sister. I assume she meant my sister Rebekah. I mean seriously, check this out.

Down to the blue eyes we’re spitting image of each other. You can ignore the me in the picture of Rebekah. I was a bit young looking then… But Bek and I resemble each other(or should I say I resemble her, for she came first…) The same eyes, the same long brown hair, the same crookedy smile. the same big schnoz…. The same chin…. Well we aren’t exactly the same. My cheek-bones are flatter.

Which is where this picture comes in.

Us three sisters ran togething in Color Me Rad. We looked pretty rad by the end so we took this hot picture. When I lived with said sisters all the people at church(and elsewhere) called me “The missing link” between Anna and Rebekah. Anna has the eyes too. But she doesn’t have the hair or the dumb smile. What she does have are the same cheek-bones as me…. huh. Weird, right? The good news is that we’re three hot chicas. Beyond that who cares, right? Hahahaha hope you’ve enjoyed these pictures. You can inspect the similarities and differences for yourself. Peace out brosky.

Basically if you cut through all the politics in order to respect someone as a man or a woman they have to be responsible. In order to respect yourself as a man or a woman you have to be responsible.

In the family the parents are responsible for the financial, physical, emotional, spiritual, etc. education and support of those belonging to their family. It doesn’t really matter who is taking care of what needs between the man and the woman, that’s immaterial. What matters is that the needs are being met and the husband and wife are partners in meeting those needs.

When I go on the prowl for potential boyfriends(LOOOOOL! this is more of a hypothetical situation here.) I look for a guy who is masculine. This means that he is responsible and able to support himself as a single man. Aka doesn’t live with his parents, does his own laundry, makes wise decisions for himself, is financially responsible, holds a job, is active in his church, has a real relationship with God, etc. These things show me that if we were to end up married he would be able to support US financially and lead US spiritually. Do I want to live off of him for the rest of my life? HECK NO! Do I just want to stay home and cook and clean and take care of children? Dear God, please no. Does it mean I’m less feminine because I don’t aspire to be a mother and homemaker? Absolutely not.

Regardless of my femininity or lack there of my point is that laziness and free-loading is not acceptable in men or women. In my eyes the stereotypical trophy wife is synonymous with dead-beat wife. Not feminine. In the same way the stereotypical trophy husband is synonymous with dead-beat husband. Not masculine. Not fulfilling their duties as a man/woman(adult in general.)

There. I’m done. No more gender politics for a very long time.

What is masculinity? What is femininity? What does it mean to be a man or woman?

Like I said, I’ve been thinking about this and here’s what I’ve come up with.. I know a lot of people who have views on this issue(or at least are vocal about it) aren’t believers in God…. to you people I say that I am never going to convince you of anything because of that difference. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it until I’ve breathed my last breath: Christ defines my life. I cannot even attempt to tell you what goes on in my brain without bringing the one and only true God into the picture. I would apologize for this, but I’m not sorry.

In the bible it lays out pretty well what it  means to be a man and a woman. For us female Christians we are constantly being reminded of how we should be the Proverbs 31 woman and be perfect and bla bla bla. As for men, there are a lot more verses pertaining to manhood, but I’m a bad Christian and can’t tell you where exactly you can find those…. (aside from 1 Peter 3, Ephesians 5-6, The whole of Proverbs, etc.)

If I can dare to give an amateurs summation of what it means to be a man and what it means to be a woman it would be this:

A masculine or feminine individual is one who sees to the physical, emotional, and spiritual needs of themselves and those under their care to the best of their abilities.

For example as a child I couldn’t feed myself, teach myself right from wrong, or comfort myself. Some of these needs were fulfilled by my mother and some were fulfilled by my father. As a young adult I now have primary responsibility for these things. I have been trained by my parents to see to my own physical, emotional, and spiritual needs. As a result I am deciding for myself how many hours I can work and how many I can go to school. I decide my budget, I decide my job, I decide my living arrangements. I make choices for myself about my needs.

In a perfect world I am extremely feminine because I am taking care of myself to the best of my ability. I am getting to bed at a decent hour(lol no) I’m paying my bills on time(hah!) I have a job that means my income is greater than my expenses(yeah right) I take regular showers(I’m dying of laughter over here…) etc.

And yet it goes beyond that. I have a responsibility as a human being and more importantly as a Christian to set a good example for those around me. I am responsible for the impression that I give the impressionable(a.k.a. everyone.) I am responsible for misleading others when I have a lapse of judgement or character.

If I were perfectly feminine I would be above reproach.

Moving onward to the Proverbs 31 woman there is a lot of emphasis on supporting the husband and being a shrewd housekeeper.  In those days being a shrewd housekeeper was kind of like being a boss businesswoman. These ladies bought land and traded goods…. Think of the stockbrokers of today and you have the Proverbs 31 woman… only it goes beyond actions and into character. The Proverbs 31 woman is respected by her husband, her children, and the whole town. not one person has a single beef with her. Not. one. beef.

She’s the woman not even the haters hate because she’s just so freaking awesome.

She is a woman of integrity who trains her children to be upright. It is her vocation to support her husband and provide for his needs. Her vocation to teach her children what is right, despite what is comfortable. She’s a woman of integrity who doesn’t stand idly by while injustice thrives. She holds herself to the standard of perfection, to God’s standard, 24 hours a day and apologizes when she fails(even though by the world’s standard she has done nothing wrong.) And she does these things without expecting anything in return.

She is the most feminine woman imaginable because she fulfills her duty to herself, her family, and to her world with humility.

In Proverbs the woman described is in the setting of wife and a lot of times we single ladies skip over it because it doesn’t seem to be applicable to us. Well here’s the thing: being a woman of integrity and taking care of responsibilities is not reserved for the wife. Wherever you are in life you can take the model of the Proverbs 31 woman and translate it over. Like I said, she’s a shrewd manager of her home. This translates really well into the business world. Make wise decisions in your job, be nice to your boss and coworkers, be of flawless reputation. I can guarantee you you will not be fired from any reputable job by doing these things. On the contrary, these are the things that are prized in employees(Not that I’ve had much experience, but this is what I’ve observed.)

There is so much more that I could talk to about femininity, but I”m approaching 1,000 words and it’s midnight… I feel I haven’t been very concise, but this is where it’s at right now…. A bunch of loose thoughts and emotions tangled up with other thoughts and emotions trying to find a little bit of closure… By the end of the week I should be able to tell all, but I don’t really want to share until I have a happy ending to slap on the end.

I always appreciate y’alls comments. Keep ‘em coming!

When something tragic happens I tend to bury my head in the sand. Not because I don’t care and I’m tired of hearing about it, but because I’m grieving. When Aurora happened I was working in a nursing home all day and every TV in the place was set to the news and all the residents would talk about was the shooting. I went home from work that night completely exhausted and on the verge of tears. All I wanted to do was bash in every TV in the whole town because every time I heard news of the shooting was like the first time hearing news of it. On top of it all subsequent news seems very insensitive to me. I’ve been avoiding my email and my facebook for the past week because all I see is newtown this and newtown that. And everyone speaks as if people’s lives weren’t really torn apart by it. Yahoo has constantly had their top story be something like “gunman’s moves show he didn’t just snap” or “Shooting: Who’s to blame”. Tragedies are splashed around the media right up there with “Kim Kardashian takes a dump” and I hate it.

I don’t hide because I feel less, if anything I hide because I feel more. I hide because if I didn’t then I wouldn’t be able to cope with it all. I hide because I feel helpless against the evil in this world. Because there’s nothing I can do about it. I would love to hug the parents and the siblings and let them know that there’s someone out there who cares and understands their situation. That life continues after the tragedy and that there’s hope for a better day. But I can’t. I’m just a pre-nursing college freshman who can’t even afford two semesters of college. When every fiber of my being is screaming “Go! Share the love of God with them!” reality is telling me “No.”

Gender roles. And how much I disagree with feminists. Because feminism is whack.

That’s right.

Feminism is whack.

Part of this was brought on by my coworker acting inappropriately to me and having this inner struggle of “do I go against my morals and report him, henceforth basically ruining his life, or do I take him out back and make sure he never has children?”…

Have no fear, dear readers, I did the adult thing and had a serious discussion with him about how he was being inappropriate. It was successful. He apologized(profusely) and the rest is history. But this brings up a fundamental problem that I have with feminists.

Feminists would rather ruin a man’s life for something he may or may not be aware that he did, than have a serious conversation about it with said man. When was the first option getting the guy fired? Why are feminists so dead set against telling a man “Hey tiger, hold your horses! You’re making me uncomfortable.”

or in my case “I’d rather you not socialize in that manner”…. not those words exactly…. at all…. but that’s the gist of it.

Sometimes as women we have to tell people how we feel. We can’t assume people can read out minds. And I would argue that a lot of the “Sexual harassment” that happens in the workplace is just people being too familiar in their joking or reading a woman’s body language wrong and thinking there’s something there that isn’t.

But feminists are the least understanding people I know. If a guy pats them on the back at work it’s “Omigod he’s sexually harassing me, I’m going to tell my manager!!!” when really he’s just a friendly guy that shows his friendship through touch. It happens, people. If it really bothers you than tell him! Don’t get him fired. Don’t do it.

Granted there is a time and a place for telling the manager and workplace sexual harassment is nothing to be taken lightly, but for pete’s sake don’t abuse it! Those poor men who communicate through touch…

Anyway I also had to write this paper on if the Beauty and the Beast(the original French novel) is sexist. My first thought was “No, it’s not. Belle is an extremely independent woman who has control of her destiny. If I had Belle’s life I would be perfectly happy and I wouldn’t feel like I was being suppressed by men at all…”

Then I thought about the men in the story.

If you haven’t read it, which I’m sure you haven’t, I’ll tell you.

They’re pansies.

They cry instead of act, they’re easily manipulated, the brothers and father let Belle go to her death. They originally think that they’ll kill the beast but the dad is like “No he’s too strong” so they’re like “Damn I guess we’re just going to have to sit at home and cry instead.”

Put blatantly… These men have no balls.

Which, if you think about pop culture these days, is a reoccurring theme when it comes to the portrayal of men. They either have no balls or they’re some kind of raging beast that only cares about sex and violence.

::bunny trail:: you wanna know who can only think about sex and violence? Women. Just watch a group of fangirls and you will hear things that no matter how hard you try, you will never forget. And women are shameless. “Oh, I’m a woman and I’m being objectified by men so it’s okay if I shamelessly lust after men. After centuries of being a possession for men to acquire it’s about time I had my fun.”

No. Just no.

::disclaimer:: when I say these things about women, I am in fact including myself in this generalization. It turns out that lust doesn’t discriminate based on gender.

Stick that in your juice box and have a snack, feminists.

But basically our culture glorifies cowardly men and condemns men who do what they feel they are obligated to do. Men tend to protect the women in their lives. For example, a marine was NJP’d for voluntary man slaughter because he literally beat to death the man who was trying to rape his sister(Not condoning murder here…) The difference between a man and a woman is that a woman when faced with the decision of fight or flight will most likely pick flight where a man will most likely pick fight. So if you have two groups in a fight the women get the heck out of dodge and the men duke it out…

It’s how we’re wired.

But feminists say “I want to fight for myself!”
Okay. It’s your funeral.

Testosterone helps with the development of big muscles. Women don’t have much testosterone. Men have a lot of it. if the man wants to break some noses to keep me safe I’m not going to complain. Break away, my friend. I’ll be over in that diner calling the police.

Anyways. Feminists throw these nasty terms around-

::tangent:: my least favorite one that I’ve heard is “Raw, black, sexual aggression(referring to Herman Cain)” Really? Racist and sexist at the same time! And you say you’re the tolerant one…

-and the result is a bunch of men who are afraid to defend themselves and their women for fear of being called a sexist pig, and a bunch of men who are afraid to ask a girl out for fear that she’ll make a fool out of him.

Basically men are becoming women. And it’s not attractive. I don’t like how society portrays men and I don’t like how men are becoming because of this portrayal.

TAKE BACK MASCULINITY!!!!

and ask her on a freaking date, you pansy.

(And people wonder why I’m still single…. well I guess we know now)

That is all. I love you all, comment with your thoughts on gender roles and how effed up our society is. Follow me on ze tweeters @totalsurrender. If you’re a man, BE A MAN! You have my support. If I were a lawyer I would stand up for your masculinity in court…. But I’m not… So I’ll just… yeah. Blog about it I guess. If you’re a woman, communicate with the men in your life. Tell them you appreciate them as men.

BYE!!!!

WOOOHOOOOOO!!! Didn’t see that one coming, did you?

Well over the years(probably five years) I’ve dyed my hair three or four times.

The first time I dyed my hair I dyed it a reddish brown color.

Red hair with a terrible cut.

Considering I was, what, 13, this could have been worse. But it’s still pretty bad. This was one of my innocuous acts of rebellion.

My second dye job was to a really dark color. My professed intent was to cover up the natural blonde highlights in my hair. It’s true, I hate it when the sun bleaches my hair. But it also goes beyond that. I’m a stress-dyer.

Terrible cut, blah color.

And so my second dye is probably a failure.

My third wasn’t so bad. I tried to do right by my hair and got a special kit with a color that I thought would match my natural color so I wouldn’t have to dye it again. It also had a highlighting thing with it so it wouldn’t look obviously dyed. well… yeah. Here’s the dye.

You can’t tell the wonderful hairstyle and color from this picture, but they were both wonderful!

As it turns out, I didn’t take any pictures of myself with this new dye. By the time graduation and picture taking season came around, the roots had grown out.

And I thought that color was a pretty good match…. can you tell the sun ravages my hair?

So now I can see my greys again and there’s a big difference between the dyed parts and the roots and I honestly don’t know what my hair looks like without dye in it.

So I’m going to take the plunge, walk into a salon, and get all my hairs dyed to match the roots. Probably in a week or two, though, because I’m currently broke and have no idea how I’m going to fill my gas tank until Thursday when I get my first paycheck. Aaaahhh college life.

I’ll post a picture of the final product, though!