My 26 Before 27

It's time! I love lists and I love setting goals. Partly, of course, to break the rules and feel rebellious while I ignore them, but also to set a purpose for the next leg of the path. Yesterday I checked in on my goals from last year and I made some pretty cool progress! I'm starting out this new phase of 26-year-old-hood, and here is what I'm going to try to do during it:

1. Run in 2 events. Something about paying 30 bucks for a t-shirt and bib number makes me actually train and prepare for an event. I'd like to bring back at least two events into my schedule, as this year didn't have any.

2. Make someone a meal for a baby/life change/just because. I've watched my mom bless so many people throughout the course of my life through cooking meals. I honestly think she's packing up a meal for another family every time I call home. I remember my Grandma Gesch's letters in college always included an anecdote about how wonderful my mom is for cooking for them. It's not a bad thing to be known for feeding other people. Time for me to get on it.

3. Consider a permanent living sitch. Not that we can predict the future, but I know we would like to get into a house one day. This will be the year where research, saving, and planning takes on a more prominent and serious place in our daily discussion. I'm already addicted to RedFin, so oops. This would potentially be a HUGE step for us, and the idea of it already overwhelms me and makes me ridiculously giddy and exhausts me all at once.

4. Make risotto. Dang. We had risotto at the wedding last weekend and it was so good that it really went beyond description. Plus, being able to say that I can make risotto sounds super fancy, and you all know how #imsofancy

5. Stay updated on international news. One of the few great things about an extra long commute last year was the time spent listening to the radio. I was ridiculously up-to-date about all the things. I want to continue on in my news-junkie-dom.

6. Read all of the Psalms. When I think of times when the rubber hits the road, my heart is usually led to the Psalms. My dad sings the Psalms to old ladies in the nursing homes, and I dare you to find me an OCS graduate who can't recite Psalm 8 complete with the actions. I think it's a good place for this fickle-Bible-reader to start her 26th year.

7. Exercise in ways besides running. I screwed up my ankle big time this past spring in a pickup game of volleyball. When I was talking to my Physical Therapist and explained that I usually only run and don't do much else in terms of cross training or variety, she responded with a big DUH ANNA speech, saying that I needed to do other things too. So there you go. Personal trainer friends, I'm open to suggestions!

8. Have a sleepover. So I miss college and wanna watch movies with my friends, okay?

9. Take a class to learn a new skill. Calligraphy? Knitting? Ventriloquism? Time will tell.

10. Floss every day. I try, you guys. I really try. The latest trip to the dentist sent me off with a new resolve to make this happen. (I asked, "Is 3 times a week impressive?" And the lady was like "Mmmmm. Sorry honey.")

11. Make a math group project for my kids. Okay, this is a stupid teacher goal that non-teachers might not appreciate, but I hear and see all of these cool things that veteran teachers do with group projects. Meanwhile, I'm differentiating my little tail off so that every kid gets his or her individual needs met. That's all fine and good, but kids just really love the chance to create stuff together. I'm going to try to do this somehow in Math this year. Teacher friends, I'm open to suggestions!

12. Girls road trip. Brian will be gone for a week in January and a week in March for trips with his high school students. Therefore, I've resolved to get in the car and head out on the open road as well. This summer's trip with Karley and Liz only reinforced my desire to do this more often.

13. Get a library card. HAVING FUN ISN'T HARD...WHEN YOU'VE GOT A LIBRARY CARD! Plus I spend way too much on books. Oops. 

14. Read a new YA fiction series. Harry Potter really made my soul so happy this year, and I want to keep that YA joy flowing. I realize that nothing will ever measure up, but there's something about a series that's so addicting in the best possible way. Nerd friends, I'm open to suggestions!

15. Stay in bed until noon. SO. For the past two years, I've made it a goal to get up early to see the sunrise. And failed. Miserably. So I decided to take it in another direction. I haven't done the noon thing since college, and goodness knows that drifting in and out of sleep on a Saturday morning can be pretty freaking fantastic. It's like a goal to be lazy! I can't wait!

16. Watch every Seinfeld episode in order of its chronological release. All 180 epodes. Giddy-up.

17. Keep a plant alive under my supervision. Meanwhile, everyone I know is pregnant.

18. Try a cleaning schedule. Okay, before you write this one off as definitely not going to happen, I think if I chunk up the cleaning jobs, I won't let it build up because it's too much at once. Here's what I'm thinking: Monday is laundry day, Tuesday is floor day, Wednesday is kitchen day, Thursday is bathroom day, and Friday is for clutter. Saturday and Sunday will no longer be spent with shame and guilt-ridden hours of looking around at the mess and being too overwhelmed to chip away at any of it.

19. Visit The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. WHO'S WITH ME?!

20. Do something for this refugee crisis. You've all read Ann Voskamp's suggestions at how we can be a small help in this world full of brokenness, right? I want to stop reading headlines and start writing checks. Compared to most people on this planet, I am ridiculously wealthy. God is extravagantly generous with me - why can't I give a refugee kid a new backpack? There are so many little things we can do. Let's start doing them.

21. Attend a festival. Complete with a flower garland in my hairzzzz.

22. Watch the long Pride and Prejudice. Who would like to set aside a Saturday and do this with me? Oh hello, Colin Firth circa 1995. Hello there. 

23. Attend a theater or dance performance in Chicago. I am always so intrigued by the ballet ads I see downtown. And I have yet to meet a broadway show I didn't love. Time to get classy.

24. Paint a piece of furniture. True confession: I have two cans of aqua spray paint I'm not sure what to do with, so I figured I may as well make it a goal. That's just me being #Dutch and #cheap

25. Find a mission where I can volunteer or support or visit. Once again, see #20.

26. See live jazz music. This one is partly for Brian and partly for me. Before getting married, I really had no tolerance for jazz music. I get impatient and like my songs to run their full course within 2 minutes and 35 seconds. Brian, on the other hand, can throw in a little Wayne Shorter and be completely happy with a song over 7 minutes long. It's been growing on me and I'd love to experience some live jazz music together. Plus, we Chicagoans live in a cultural center of the genre! Excited to make this into a date night.

So there it is. 26 little things that help me make this life I lead my own. Got any ideas to add?

Ankle Rankle

I found out through extensive online research that "rankle" is an archaic term from Middle English that is used to describe when something is painful in a nagging way. How can you not just love the Oxford English Dictionary?! It is perfect for this blog post! On to the topic of the day:

Check out this beast.

Now THAT is a cankle. 

As per usual, I was my graceful self and disaster ensued. I fell down sideways on my foot after I went up for a block during a game of pickup volleyball with some coworkers last night and this is the result. It is a really silly feeling to miss work because of a sprained ankle, but driving nearly an hour with my left foot down a 4-lane highway isn't the best choice, and so I'm thankful for a principal who gently suggested that we find a sub and that I forego the journey.

So today involved explaining to strangers over and over why I'm hopping to my car (No, creepy dude, I don't want your help, but I appreciate the gesture) or into my apartment on one foot until my crutches arrive (they are coming tomorrow thanks to my superhero friend Mel). Plus I had my purse around my shoulder, so that's bouncing around up and down as I hop, and as Karley commented while I explained this whole ordeal to her over the phone: There is just no graceful way to hop on one foot. Truer words have never been spoken. Once I hopped to my car I had the diabolical challenge of pushing the gas pedal. My left-foot driving was nothing short of ridiculous, as I nervously cruised around 10 miles per hour under the speed limit. I watched the actual shock of other drivers who passed me, expecting to see an elderly woman and found me instead.

When I finally reached the (second floor - woof) doctor's office I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. A very long tunnel in the shape of a hallway. Exhausted from all the one foot hopping, I slowly hobbled my way down the hall a few steps at a time, pausing to get my balance every few steps. In the midst of one of these pauses a man and a woman walked down the hall in the opposite direction, noticing my struggle. I said, "Hi!" The guy said, "Woah! Your ankle is huge!" I said, "Yeah, I am definitely aware of that, so thanks!" and we continued on our separate ways. I finally got to the front desk, they immediately sat me down in a wheel chair, and pushed me to the exam room. It made me feel like a total hypochondriac to be pushed in a wheelchair as a fully functional 25-year-old, but I was so stinking thankful for a break from all the hopping. The doctor finally saw me, was a super cool guy, and deemed it a severe sprain, in need of crutches for about a week and a month of physical therapy. My mind was all INSURANCE! HMO! WHAT'S PHYSICAL THERAPY?! But I kept a cool appearance on the exterior.

I thanked him for the air cast, hobbled my way back home, and left-foot-drove through Chik-Fil-A for lunch, adding a milkshake onto my order. Because you know about how dairy is a part of the food pyramid and everything.

In one big spree of feeling sorry for myself, I spent as much time on the social medias as I wanted (consider yourselves STALKED), watched a lot of Kimmy Schmidt on The Netflix, and didn't consider the idea of showering until 3:15 in the afternoon. I'm getting to that step now. All in all, my life isn't bad if the worst thing that's happened in weeks is a day to watch funny TV shows, drink milkshakes, and text nasty pictures of my pregnant ankle to my friends and family.

Happy weekend, friends!

Notes of a TFA-er: You're Gonna Miss This

Yeah, I linked a sentimental country song to describe my feelings, okay? Yeah, SO?

I almost feel like I haven't been updating this week because each and every day since Sunday has brought so much along with it. I'm missing a lot of things...not in a way that I want to complain about it, but in a way that I want to talk about how much I love the things I'm missing (or will soon be missing). Here's a list of what's racing through the mind of a TFA-er at the end of Institute:

1. I miss my summer school kids. Honestly, I do. It's not that I haven't forgotten the cuss words, the weird smells, and the BADitudes that accompany 6th grade summer-schoolers at all. I remember those things very well along with the other stuff that drove me nuts. But I also remember the larger-than-life personalities, the original rap lyrics, the funny jokes, the brilliant thoughts in their responses and essays, and the trust and understanding built in such a short time.

I remember E, one of the kids who tried my patience the most, who wrote a letter to the class and teachers as a farewell message:

My favorite parts: 1) He made a special note in saying goodbye to the teachers to say "I'm going to miss you guys and you woman." 2) How E closed the note with: "Love you all, no homeo." Classic.

I remember a group of three awesome girls who performed their original "New Girl Swag" rap song that could rival a Nicki Minaj verse.

I remember J, a girl whose eyes lit up when I told her I lived in Spain for four months, and how she now plans to study abroad and study photography in Spain when she goes to college.

I remember two star soccer players, A and I, each morning bragging up the fact that they scored 2, 3, 4, and even 7 goals in their games the night before.

I remember during one of our opening morning sessions when we asked students to contribute positive thoughts, how P raised his hand, stood up by his desk, and resolutely yelled out, "I'm black, and I'm proud!" and sat back down. So awesome.

I remember T, one girl who is bent on attending University of Chicago. T also has some major behavior habits that got her a conference with me for the first two minutes of the lunch period almost every single day. I remember how I was amazed that this daily punishment actually turned out to be the thing that got us to be really close by the end of Summer School.

I remember H, one of my favorite boys, answering a question after reading a book about a woman who was a fishing boat captain when most every other captain was a man. I asked him why he thought this book was important, and he responded: "Some girls think that just because they're girls they can't do anything boys do. It's important because I think girls should believe in themselves to do anything they want to do." 

I mean, do you sees why he's one of my favorites (okay I know you're not supposed to have favorites but whatever)? Life in Room 309 was full of moments like these.

2. I miss my Trinity friends. It's weird that I'm going along through this intense process without my Trolls. I feel like although I'm only 30-45 minutes from most of them, I've been secretly living a life 10,000 miles away.  I miss waking up in a house of my best friends and never having to walk to dinner by myself like I do here. I miss knowing the exact daily schedule of my friends: when they are free from classes or when we can coordinate trips to Target and the mall together. I miss hanging out at the houses on the weekend nights. I miss knowing how all of their days have gone and whether they are having a good week or not. I sometimes miss being around people who think about the world in the same way I do. I actually enjoy being in the minority here at TFA in my religious and political views, but it definitely also can be tiring to remember where I really stand. The newness and independence of this awesome adventure is super exciting, but it's hard sometimes too. I know my college friends are there for me even when my schedule doesn't allow that much communication and face time, but still. I miss those little rascals. 


3. I'm going to miss my CMA group. So much. You were introduced to my CMA and CMA group already. These 13 people are awesome. In two short days we will all be off in a million different directions, off to take up our placement to begin our two-year commitment to TFA in different cities. Although it's only been 5 weeks, these people have been in the trenches with me since day one. As a way of coping, instead of seeing this as farewell, I'm seeing this as an opportunity to have free lodging when I visit St. Louis, Jacksonville, Milwaukee, Detroit, Seattle, and the Twin Cities. Stay positive, right? I have to say, it's going to be extra hard to begin teaching in a classroom without my collaborative of these three guys: John, Tray, and Zach. They make me laugh so much that I don't think it's allowed to classify our classroom instruction as work, but somehow we got away with it.

4. I'm going to miss Institute. Before I got here, I heard SO MUCH about Institute. I heard: "Good luck with that," "You're never going to sleep," "It's the hardest thing you'll ever do," and my favorite: "Institute is the worst." I can sometimes agree with those sentiments, but truly I've loved these five weeks. Don't believe the people who hate on it. I'm living the dorm life, not worrying about making my meals or grocery shopping, hanging out with tons of new friends, working all day with said friends, and getting to know the city in the process. I move into a new apartment on Saturday, live with new roommates (who are really great too!), start paying rent and buying groceries, and basically begin adulthood. Not to mention I'll be starting real-live orientation next Monday at my real-live job. Having my hand held by advisors, fellow corps members, co-teachers, and supervising TFA staff during summer school has been an awesome support system while doing my first teaching experience. I've grown as a teacher so much already and this process has been nothing but memorable and important to me. My first-graders will be sitting in front of me in 13 days on the FIRST of AUGUST (commence nervous twitching), and I have to be ready for them. Institute gave me the first HUGE push to get there.

Institute, obviously, is not just the experience but the people who go through the experience right alongside of you. I said often in Spain that it wasn't the places that made the semester great (although seeing the sights was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity) but the people who were there with me. If Institute is teacher boot camp, it's the people who have helped me survive. I'm off to embark on yet another step of independence next week and I'm not sure that I'm completely ready, but these people have helped me start to get there. They've pushed me, laughed with me (or mostly at me), and given me amazing examples of individuals who embrace their leadership to DO SOMETHING about the injustices that they see around them. If I could describe how I feel about these people I could say a lot of words, but the main one that comes to my mind is inspirational. I'm a lucky girl to even be here in their presence.

Now it's time to hug it out, pack it in, hang out, go out, move in, and gear up. August 1st is coming soon. 

Risk

No, not the board game. Although I have spent many Christmas/New Year holidays with our family friends playing the game of strategic conquest (when you get two older brothers and their friends together, you're not playing Boggle, I'll tell you that much). And if you're any kind of Seinfeld fan at all, you already love this scene from the label maker episode. "The Ukraine is weak!" 

For this post I'm thinking of risk more in terms of putting yourself out there. In terms of exposing yourself to possible downfall or heartbreak or letdown or danger. This kind of risk is not a game...real people are involved in this one.

This idea of risk started to bounce around in my head ever since my brother Alex, who is a lawyer, brought up the concept of "Assumption of Risk" a long time ago. Maybe it was his first year of law school, I don't know, but it stuck with me. Apparently it was in a torts class (I guess that's a category of laws, but to me it sounds more like dessert) and basically you can cite "Assumption of Risk" as a possible defense to not get the pants sued off of you. Hopefully I'm understanding it correctly. For example, if you're playing a soccer game, someone slide tackles you, and you tear your ACL, the slide-tackler does not have a responsibility to pay for your medical bills. By suiting up in that soccer jersey and stepping on the field, you assumed that playing the game involves a certain level of risk. And since you love the game, you happily accepted and played in spite of that risk. You take responsibility for the fact that it's your own fault for joining in if you get hurt during the normal play of the game.

I also think of this with playgrounds. By climbing up on those monkey bars, you are taking on that Assumption of Risk. You might fall (and dang does hitting those wood chips below ever hurt!) but you also might finally conquer that farmer's flip you've been perfecting for your entire kindergarten career.

People are like monkey bars. You need to acknowledge the Assumption of Risk when it comes to people. Anytime you have a friendship, relationship, or interaction with another human being, you're risking something. The closer you get, the more you jeopardize in the process. The possibilities for love and friendship are worth it, and so most of us see fit to take that risk. But what happens when it all blows up? We all know the feeling of free-falling to a thud on the ground below the monkey bars, only to have the wind knocked out of us once we get there. It's not pleasant. People can hurt. People can leave you gasping for air. When that initial impact passes, do you yell curses up at the monkey bars? No. You pick yourself up, walk it off, and try that farmer's flip again. When you open yourself up to people, you take that risk. It's not anyone's fault, it's just never a sure thing with people. You give them the power to knock the wind right out of you. Hey, remember that you can do the same hurt to others when they trust you! But the beauty of it all is that next time it might not end up that way. You can learn from every single fall and every single scrape and bruise those wood chips leave on your knees. You risked it, it didn't work out as you'd planned, but you're still going forward better, smarter, and readier than before.

One of my all-time favorite literary characters is a sad little guy named J Alfred Prufrock. T.S. Eliot wrote a whole poem from his sad little perspective. J Alfred is so consumed with his fear of taking risks that he is completely paralyzed. He says he measures his life in coffee spoons and obsesses over the question: "Do I dare eat a peach?" Dude, when you start to have an existential crisis over fruit, you know you need to lighten up.

What I'm trying to say here is that we can't end up like my friend J. Alfred Prufrock. I can't sit on the sidelines of friendships and relationships for fear of getting burned or getting my feelings hurt. We can't sit on the grass while the rest of the world is playing on the jungle gym. I read somewhere that "life is between the trapeze bars," that in order to really live, you have to risk a little too. I'd rather have my life measured in jumps and falls than in coffee spoons. Safe is nice, but safe can become a crutch.

I'm working on facing those monkey bars again. The world is just too full of interesting people and exciting opportunities to not climb back up that ladder. And if I do say so myself, I can execute an outstanding farmer's flip.

Endings and Beginnings

It happened.

I graduated college. Say whaat?! It is insane to even say. But it happened! And I am so happy!

The cousins!

On Saturday I walked across the stage and officially became an Alum of Trinity Christian College. The weather did not cooperate at all, but it helped to make the day unforgettable. We had a magnificent lady, Donnita Travis, as a speaker. She is the founder of a really cool organization for kids in Chicago (who knows, maybe we'll be working for some of the same people!). She gave a speech entitled "It's the little things you do, not the big things you say," and ended her talk with a resolute "GO GET 'EM!" which I thought was awesome! (Note to self: do that when you give graduation speeches.) I think I wouldn't mind getting lunch with this lady sometime. Then I grabbed my diploma and called it a day! 

Mi familia. Good lookin' crew, if I do say so myself. 

The whole morning was a blur. I kept looking around at my fellow classmates and thinking to myself, "How are we all here right now? How did we get to this point? Are we really in these hats and gowns right now?" It was one of those out-of-body things. We ended the day running around trying to get pictures in between downpours and navigating the chaos of all those people on our little campus. 

Daddio.

I left the event kind of all over the place, but the one thought I kept coming back to was this is a huge deal. This will be one of those days that I'll forever look back on as a watershed in my life. 

It's a lot of endings. The end of my college life and the amazing memories that define these four years. The end of my education (for now). The end of living with my five best friends. The end of my undergrad classes. The end of taking 3 hour naps in the middle of the afternoon. (I shall miss those with all my heart, believe me.) The end of familiarity. The end of this little comfort zone. The end of a lot of hard work. 

But it's also a lot of beginnings. The beginning of the "real world." The beginning of educating others. The beginning of my journey at Teach For America. The beginning of making new friends and living in a new city (no, attending Trinity does not qualify as living in Chicago). The beginning of growing up and becoming more independent. The beginning of going to sleep and waking up early. The beginning of uncertainty. The beginning of a huge new challenge and adventure. 

Siblings, laughing at Dad trying to take a picture. This is the 5th try. He's an expert. 

So. As I'm starting to prepare for Teach for America's Institute (more on the details of my job through Teach For America will come later) and search for a roommate and apartment (anybody wanna live with me on the west side? I'll make you cookies?), it is cool to keep in mind that I've reached this point - I've made it to this huge milestone. I'm really proud of myself. I'm really humbled at how blessed my life has been. I'm really anxious at the thought of how the next few years are going to turn out. But really excited too. All the great stories have a little bit of mystery. That's what makes them great! 

So what shall we do? Where do we go from here after such a big day? I think there's just one option: Let's go get 'em!! 

Copper Mountain

Wednesday, March 14th was an awesome day, although at times it was seeming to turn out like just the opposite. The whole spring break crew headed 90 minutes into the mountains for a day of skiing on Copper Mountain. My sister-in-law lent me her FLY North Face snow pants and I felt like I looked pretty cool. Now. I am not the most graceful person in the world. In fact, I'm really clumsy and tend to trip and fall without 6 foot boards strapped to my feet while going downhill slippery white surfaces. Before Wednesday I had been skiing once in my life, in eighth grade, in the UP (that's Upper Peninsula for all you non-midwesterners) 11 hours north of my hometown in Wisconsin. My method that time was to go directly straight down at blistering speeds until I fell or ran into something. That method can work on bunny hills in Northern Michigan when you are 13, but is not so hot up in the Rockies as an adult. Karley was kind enough to teach me how to snowplow and make my "S" shapes to make my way down.

Let's just say those first fifteen minutes were PRETTY DANG FRUSTRATING. I fell all awkwardly and got my knee twisted in weird angles until Karley shuffled over and unclipped my boot from the ski. After gulping back a few tears (and letting some others slip out) I got myself together and kept going. Karley, Mel, and Susan hung with me all day and were the most patient friends a girl could ask for. Each time down I got a little bit better and by the time lunch rolled around I could make it down without falling (okay maybe only once or twice) the whole time down. Let me tell you, I felt so accomplished! Nevermind the fact that four-year-olds were passing me left and right like it was their job. Nevermind the fact that I fell while getting off not one, but two ski lifts. Ha. That must've looked HILARIOUS. But I digress. The sky was perfectly blue, the snow was blindingly white, the trees were dark green, and the air was cold and fresh. Leisurely making my way down the hill while staring at the breathtaking mountains in front of me is a memory I won't forget. It was SUCH a good time. The video footage below, taken at the top of our favorite little hill, is evidence of these good times. Get yourself out here and spend a day in the mountains! 

Rocky Mountain High

Well folks, we're here! On Saturday night at 11:00, seven of us piled ourselves and our possessions into two cars and made the 16-hour trek to Denver, Colorado for our spring break trip. My shift of driving took place from 4:30-8:00 a.m. on Sunday morning, and thank goodness for Rihanna because she is the only reason I stayed awake. My friends Matt, Caleb, Mel, Lauren, Susan, Karley, and I drove to meet Jon (Susan's fiancé and our friend) at his latest home in the mountains. This morning we got our first taste of the great outdoors with a 6 mile hike at White Range Park in the mountains. Even though snow is on the ground in lots of these pictures (taken with the new camera!), the temperature was a beautiful 70 degrees, the air was fresh, the sarcasm was flying, the laughter endless, and we had a fabulous time. Friends, it doesn't get better than days like today!

The Best Pintentions

For my resolutions this new year, I've recruited Pinterest to find my inspiration. For those of you not familiar, it's a website where people share cute/cool/interesting/inspirational pictures on a massive virtual bulletin board. While it can become a black hole of time-consumption and procrastination, I have also used it to find some helpful quotes for what I'm going to do differently and better this year. The pictures below line up with each of my goals. Check 'em out girl scout.

Goal #1: Listen to my own body. I do this weird self-destructive thing where I push myself to my limits for no reason. I don't eat well, don't drink enough water, am sporadic on exercising, and I wonder why I feel tired and stressed all the time. I've decided I will slow down and really assess how I feel and respond accordingly. Stressed out? Go running. Feeling sluggish? Eat some fruit and healthy protein. Desperate to keep my eyes open? Go to bed and start tomorrow with enough energy. When I do all of these things, I feel amazing. This practice will also hopefully help me finally reach my goal of weighing what I did before I went to Spain. I'm 9 pounds down, 3 to go in that effort to get back to normality. Woohoo!

Goal #2: Stay open. I want to be ready for new opportunities and adventures as they come up. I want to listen to God, my friends, and other people who present me with direction. The world is so big. And there are possibilities everywhere. And instead of responding with, "Let's sit this one out," I want to respond with an emphatic, "Let's go."

Goal #3: Practice the best kind of love.  The best kind of friendship is the kind that puts your own self and interests below the interests of others. This friendship is what makes the best kind of love. It's the kind of love that changed human history as well as my entire life. While the Disney princess posse might have us believe that romantic love is the best kind, I think they're one level too shallow. Strong, amazing relationships (romantic or not) are primarily based on a self-sacrificial friendship. That's a worthwhile way to spend a life, in my opinion. 

Goal #4: Be brave. This is a big year coming up. Heck, it's a big 5 months coming up. I have to somehow start on the path of growing up and leaving the comforts of my college years to see what I'm going to do with my life afterward. I figure I have two choices: chicken out and cry, or man up and be confident. I want to be courageous as I look for jobs, meet new contacts, and put myself out there to the adult world. My brother one time told me "Anna, we're Gesches. We can do anything." I like that attitude. 

Goal #5: Cut myself some slack, Jack. I know I might have some big ideas for my future, but I also am acutely aware of how life rarely follows the course of anyone's pre-laid plans. If things don't work out how I envisioned, I'm not going to beat myself up over it. I'm going to remind myself along the way this year that life does not always go according to Plan A. And that life more often follows plans B, C, and even sometimes you have to work your way all the way down to Plan Q. But that's what makes it fun, right?

Here's to a healthy, adventurous, devoted, brave, and unpredictable year. Let's go. 

Little Boxes

(Random title, i know...an oldie but a goodie.)

So I was thinking. I'm kind of in this weird phase.

I am a senior in college, and let me clarify that a bit: a small, Christian college. I love this experience and have had some of the best years of my life here. Ugh, it makes me really sad to think that my time here is going to end sooner rather than later. But I digress.

In this small Christian college, it's like a different world. Don't get me wrong, it's a cool world. You have all these fun friends around you who are in the same ballpark concerning culture, faith, and background. We aren't a big, rich, party school so I'm not so worried about wearing designer clothes or trying to Jersey-Shore myself up to look cool (yes, I just made Jersey-Shore a verb). I can simply be myself, which is an awesome thing. But a certain part of this little world I've inhabited for the past 3+ years leaves me a little empty. It's the comfort zone.

Let me ask you this: Do you ever feel like your comfort zone is TOO comfortable? I think for the past three years I've lived in that zone a little too easily.

But I'm starting to feel not quite as at home in that little circle anymore. It might sound weird to say this, but being comfortable now feels uncomfortable to me.

One example. Just about every time I get on Facebook, new tiny pink engagement hearts announce a wedding that's happening next summer. I love weddings. I love love. So this is exciting, both for them as people and for me as a supporter and friend. But I'm a 22-year-old girl living in that little circle, and I don't have a little pink heart on my profile in this particular year, my senior year. That makes me the exception to the rule in the small Christian college world. But I think that's alright. I think I like that small portion of me that is foreign in this little circle that I'm from.

I've skipped outside of that circle before. Spain was a huge jump out of that neat little circle. But now I've been back home again for a good chunk of time and I find myself looking at the inner walls of the circle, wondering how on earth I got back here.

And let me just say: you don't need to be across an ocean to get out of the circle. It's not about where you are living, it's about how you are living. What about seeking out people different than myself? What about places I've never explored? What about a new style I haven't tried? What about a story I haven't heard? What about LOVING life each second, even those seconds when I'm waking up and going to class, making dinner, living in my house, and writing my papers? What about looking for goodness in every moment I live? What about looking for the goodness in every person I know?

I don't think that I am content to just live in a little box made out of ticky tacky. I don't think, deep down, that any of us are. We all need something more than the safety of the circle. We need adventure, and although we each find it in different ways and places, we still need it.

And finally, the biggest comfort-zone-pusher I can think of: What about finding ways to have a heart to love people when they do not seem to deserve it? Or show love back to you?

I think that's the most daring adventure of them all.