Laundromat

Ever wondered about the possible awkward moments in laundromats? Ever wondered why laundromat is spelled with an "o" instead of "y"? (Errant thought)

Today I'm going to share a story...

I pull up to the laundromat in my brothers old classic caprice as Adele's rustic voice fills my ears and I feel the wind in my hair blowing through like the strings in her song. I turn the car off, unload my dirty clothes and head for the door. It's held open by a middle aged Latino man. I nod my head as I attempt to act like the bag I'm carrying isn't too much for me when in reality all I want to do is throw it down, pour lighter fluid on it, and be done with it all.

As I enter I look around and head for my normal washing machine area. I am surprised to find the laundromat is full. Full of more Latinos. Let me state this now: I love them. So get any racist thoughts out of your head. I'm telling a story.

I drag my bag of could be fire food towards the machines, only to find that every single one is now in use. A choice word slips through my lips. I know the manager has seen my exasperated face and probably the word that shouldn't have been uttered. She comes up to me and asks if I want to separate my clothes or just do one load. "Psh! I don't separate them. One load!"

She leads me through the maze of washers, dryers, laundry carts and more Latinos, to a beautifully open washer. That will hold all my laundry in one single solitary lovely beautiful simplistic isolated....load. I throw piece of clothing into the machine as fast as possible, only slowing to fasten a bra so it doesn't catch any of my other clothes while washing. I see/feel a man watch me as I do this. Awkward feeling #1 just occured.

Not to be distracted I finish shoving all of it into the machine. I'm excited because my book awaits me. I start the machine and head to my normal reading chair, where I prop my feet on the table and delve into my current book. (The 13th Tale by Diane Setterfield -amazing book!!)

....30 minutes later.

I emerge from my book and intuitively know that my laundry is clean. I grab a roller laundry cart and head to the washing machine. It is indeed done, I chuckle at my uncanny ability to pick up on these silly things. I open the door and shovel the damp clothes into the basket. I'm trying to be careful not to drop anything on the floor. Not only would it then be unclean, but then I'd have to bend over and I feel like the laundromat could be compared to a men's shower in a federal prison. Sock = soap = bad

I hurriedly roll my overflowing cart towards the last humongous dryer. I see a younger guy eyeing the dryer that I have currently sped in order to claim it as my own. (I do a victory dance and chuckle in my head. Never out loud...that would be rude)

I load it all up, and rush back to my book.

....22 minutes later.

I get up to check on my currently drying garments. As I round the corner from where I've been reading I observe that there is a man directly in front of me and to my right, both who are currently folding their clothe. I turn the power off on the dryer and wait for the spinning mass to stop. As my clothes come to a stop on the very top you see the one thing that shouldn't be awkward but is....red underwear. Awkward moment #2

From the corner of my eye, I see both men stop and look in the direction of my dryer. I open the door. One man's arms are in mid air, held in place by a magical web of creepiness. The other is boring holes through the glass with his super creeper laser vision. I touch the clothes and find them to be quite damp still. I close the door and press the power button again. The red is tossed back into the tumbled mess of clothing, and the frozen bodies come back to life and begin their process of folding. I walk away, turn the corner, and pick up my book.

....9 mintues later. My clothes are done. I fold them. I go home. The Latinos eyeball my brothers classic caprice.

Adventures at QuikTrip

I've been told many times that I need to start writing about the things that happen at QuikTrip. Everyday I go into work, the chance that something ridiculous is going to happen, or something off the wall said to me, is right around 110% (not kidding). Most of the time, it's a creepy guy that is the perpetrator. But every now and then.....I'm still caught off guard sometimes. Here are a few stories.

Today as I was putting hot dog buns in their containers, and woman comes up to me and says, "Ma'am, I've lost my husband." I have just opened another pack of buns and my hand stops. As her words process through my brain, I feel the bubbles start. The bubbles are the beginning process of me giggling. I look up at her. An older woman of in her mid-fifties is looking around the QuikTrip store, gripping 2 hot dogs in her hand. Controlling the bubbles, in my most professional concerned voice I ask her, "Ma'am...would you like me to help you find him?"

Once, I stood at the check stand with my co-worker and friend Lo'Verr. We were chatting back and forth in between helping customers when this man comes up to the counter. An older black man in his sixties stands there and he kinda reminds me of a pimp. Seriously. Fancy suit that is an odd color of cream and gold. Lo'Verr starts to help him and I continue to stand there and wait so we can continue our conversation. As the gentelman is about to leave he asks Lo'Verr,"How'd your manage it?"

Perplexed, Lo'Verr asks, "Manage what?"

The man lowers his gold glasses and looks at him. "How'd you manage to get to work next to a fine vanilla milkshake like this?" he responds as he looks me up and down.

I laugh aloud and walk away from the check stand, as Lo'Verr stutters a response.

Ever shift you work at Quiktrip, you have to empty the inside and outside trashcans. This is NOT a clean job. By the end of the process, my hands are sticky and black (yes EWW!), I'm sweating, winded, and wanting to take a serious shower.

One hot muggy summer day as I'm in the middle of taking out the trash and trying to help an older lady out with a question she has, a black man in his late 20s comes up to me and says he needs help with getting gas at the pump he's at. I respond and tell him I'll be there in a moment. I finish with the older lady, I turn with trash barrel in tow, and head towards the guy. As I get there he is already pumping his gas. Confused I look at him, look at the pump, then back at him and say, "What's wrong with the pump?"

He chuckles and responds, "Oh nothing!" (chuckle chuckle chuckle) "So what's your name?" he asks.

Setting my face into "unreadable mode", I point to my name badge and say, "Kasha".

"Oh that's cool"

"Yep." I say. I look around and then as I'm about to say goodbye he asks,

"Did you use to go to ...(some school. I don't remember where) "

"Nope."

"Really?" he asks.

"Really, really."

"Oh. It's just you look like this girl I used to go to school with,"

"Hmmm... I guess she was a blonde?"

" Yeah. You fine like her. You thick and juicy"

"......"

Gentlemen, this is not a complement.

A man comes up to the check stand and asks me, "How much are your one dollar scratchers?" A bubble of laughter escapes, and I ask him, "You want to know how much our one dollar scratchers are?"

"Yeah,"

"Well...that would be one dollar."

I love my job.

Sleep Over: A Paradox?

Sleep Over!!

Last night, I had 7 beautiful Jr High girls come over to my house for a sleep over. The focus of the whole evening was "Guarding Your Heart, Guarding Your Treasure". A few months ago, a couple of them asked me, "How do you guard your heart?" This totally threw me, because I'm always telling them to "guard themselves" and "guard your heart", but it never dawned on me that they had no idea how to do that.

I invited 3 lovely ladies who I love and trust to come and speak to the girls. Emily Duggan, was of my oldest dearest friends, spoke first about guarding your ears. She had the girls do an excerise to see if they were good listeners.

Emily explaining the exercise

They had 30 to look at and memorize the way that these Legos had been put together. We then blind folded all but 2 of them. The two that didn't wear the blindfolds directed and told the girls where to place the Lego pieces without touching them.

KeShonna and Kyla the "Seeing Instructors"

Marissa and Simone trying to listen

Sara Hart then spoke about guarding your mind. She handed out magazine adds with pictures of beautiful models, cute couples, and other talented famous ladies, on them. Right in the middle of the add, across the colors and the people she wrote a verse Proverbs 4:23.

"Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life."

She talked about her insecurities, and how it effected the relationships she had (with friends and guys).

To close out the "spiritual" or teaching part of the sleep over I summarized to the girls why we keep telling them the same stuff over and over again about guarding their hearts. I used this example. "How many times are we told by our parents to clean our rooms? Why do they tell us to do it so many times? Because it's dirty!! Your clean it, and then it gets dirty. Why do we clean our rooms??" I then went on to tell embarrassing stories that I hope I can someday not remember, and ended by telling them that they are as themselves a treasure. They are beautiful, and vibrant, and lovely, and funny, and precious; a treasure is meant to be hidden and guarded so that it won't be looted.

After that it was fun time. We painted nails, when did hand stands, we sang, we wrestled, and I got a grape smashed into my hair by Miss Duggan.

KeShonna and Rikeya Danielle and Kyla

Sara, Emily, Simone, and Rikeya

Chillin' with Terri on the couch

Truly amazing ladies

We had lots of fun.

We had movies playing until 4am, and then I had to act like a parent and end it. For my obvious "uncoolness", I was kindly repaid by having IcyHot stuck up my nose when I fell asleep.

We got up around 9am, and Terri Bly made some amazing pancakes and bacon, and bought biscuits and cereal. When almost all the girls had left, she remember she wanted a picture.

Three wanted an elbow; two didn't want to stand by each other. One got what she wanted. I...gave up.
Terri caught it on camera.

I love my Jr. High kids.

Remembrance Worthy

"Memory always needs positive reinforcement to be preserved and treasured" - Rabbi Wein

Today at church, Jeff Adams talked about Remembering (we're on the 7th stanza of Psalm 119). I love when people talk about memories or remembering things because I love to hear stories. As we get older, our memory tends to wain on the everyday things, but you will remember what is important to you or that which has impacted your life. You may not be able to recall a teacher's name from elementary school, but you can remember the name of the boy or girl you had a crush on at the time.

I remember when I first realized I hated yelling and fighting. I was 4 or 5 years old and watched as my mother and father fought in front of me and whoever else was there, each one yelling to be heard over the other. I stood between them looking up and watching their faces, thinking to myself, "Stop fighting." My dad at last had had enough and reached out and hit the coffee cup my mother was holding up and out of her hand. Coffee sprayed everywhere on the floor and on the ceiling. My mom whispered in aggravation as she walked away, "I just washed the ceiling". I hated hearing my parents fight, so much so that to this day whenever I hear anyone fight or yell my heart starts pounding and I shake.

I remember the first time I correctly tied my shoes by myself. My dad was doing laundry and I sat on the cement floor of the basement and finally achieved success with the blasted white shoelace.

I remember the first boy I held hands with. Derek Sharp came up to me in fifth grade, at the skating rink on my birthday and asked if I want to skate with him during the slow song. (heart flutter)

I remember the night I got saved. I woke up from a night mare. In this nightmare my hands and feet had been bound behind me and I had a gag in my mouth. I had been dropped into a red lake on fire. I was drowning and burning at the same time. When I woke, I knew that my soul was still not in the safety of Christ.

I remember the first boy I kissed. It was an accident, that then became purposeful. Ha

I remember when I decided that I wanted to be a Woman of God. My first true friend, Emily Duggan, was all about this "virtuous woman". As I watched her, I saw something that was different and I wanted what she had.

I remember the first time someone told me I had a pretty voice. Richie Briggs came up to me in 6th grade after praise and told me, "You have a beautiful voice. Keep singing". So I did.

I remember the first time I heard and understood that God was speaking to me from His Word. I was in Lima, Peru with a group from church to visit and encourage some missionaries that had been sent out. After being there just a day, I lost my voice. I have never lost my voice like this. I wasn't sick and I hadn't blown my voice out my singing or yelling. It was just gone, and all I had left was an airy squeak that no one wanted to hear (or could hear). The next day I'm completely aggravated and open up to Ecclesiastes 5. After reading the first part of the chapter I realized that God was saying, "Shut up." Ha Now that was a hard lesson to learn, but I'm so thankful for it.

These things I remember and they have shaped my life. They have molded me; some have softened me and others have hardened me in both good and bad ways. Sometimes all I can remember are the bad things; my parents divorce, the struggles and circumstances that we dealt with growing up. But...when I take myself out of the "poor me" state, and take a look from a different perspective, I can see how those things can be used and brought to remembrance so that God can get the glory he deserves.

What I learned today: I need to be purposed to make memories so that they can be recalled to me when I need them by the Spirit. "You've got to put something into remembrance in order for it to be brought to remembrance." That can be scripture, that can be experiences, anything.

So I would ask you, what have to put into memory that can be used or is worth remembering? When I'm old I want to be able to tell you more than just what happened on my birthday when a boy held my hand, and that my parents fought, or that I had to walk to school, up hill, in the snow, barefoot...both ways. :-)

I want to have memories to draw on that will be worth talking about...

2010 Overview

This past year has been a year of serious stretch and growth in my personal self. I could say in my life, but I feel like life is too broad. I've seen things in my "inner man" be broken down, thrown away, and replaced. It's flipping scary and amazing to recognize that I am not the same woman that I was a year ago. There are things that I've carried and things that I've let carry me that are not apart of my life anymore.

I've been learning to be content and comfortably uncomfortable. All the walls that I built for years to keep myself safe from hurt and pain have pretty much collapsed on top of me.

When we started the SOT study in Psalm 119, I was pushed to seek the Lord, instead of just pulling information out of my memory (which tends to have significant holes in it). I was forced to get in the Word daily. I didn't want anyone to think that I wasn't getting "a word from the Lord" on a regular basis, but I wasn't fooling anyone. Those closest to me knew something wasn't right. The truth: I was a faker and a poser that was tried of playing the game that I had created.

In October during one of our break out sessions in SOT, I realized as I spoke to the women around me that I had quit. After digging and scraping all the junk that I had piled on my heart to hid the real issues, I realized that I had given up on everything. I had quit trusting, moving, growing, even having faith that there was a plan, a purpose, for my life.

Oh I believed that there was hope for others, but not for myself. I believed a lie. The turning point in the chaotic reasoning was being told by one of my closest friends that they weren't going to let me give up. She told me that I was effecting people around me. She was bold and angry (with me). She was fighting for me. What a wondrous and empowering thing to have; a friend that fights for you.

How silly I feel right now as I type this. I was in such a pathetic place of defeat. I was a soldier laying on the ground, giving up, while those around me fought. I think I was allowed to sink to that place of defeat so that it was someone else picking me up instead of relying on myself to do it. I needed a hero.

I heard the knock. After years of hearing, but ignoring the person knocking on the door of my broken heart, I finally gave in. I undid the locks, opened the door. He walked in and made it home once again.

I used to not trust anyone. I never was consistent in reading the Bible and knowing what it says. I had a negative confidence in myself; I thought I would never be able to succeed or be anything more than a nobody. I didn't know what it meant to seek the Lord. I was in a constant state of fear. Fear of failure, fear of being alone, fear of not being of use. I was afraid that I had already messed up too much and that I had to suffer through the rest of my life as nothing. But those fears are gone, and those that aren't are being dealt with.

I am a new woman with a renewed life. I'm fighting for what He has for me.

So! After all that mess, here's some food for encouragement. Victoriousness....esssessess:

- I lost 40 lbs this past year.

- I can run 2 miles without stopping

- I've not read a fiction book in about 4 months.

- I have a serious desire to KNOW what the Bible says and to read it.

- I have some of the best friends in the world that I'm continually growing closer with.

- I paid off my credit card.

Now here are few things that I would like to tackle this year:

- Finish a non-fiction book (preferably something that would benefit my spiritual growth)

- Read the Bible through completely.

- Pay off my medical bills.

- Start using my Spanish frequently and learn more sign language.

- Figure out what I truly want in my life.

- Develop my listening and attention skills (or lack thereof)

- Loose 40 more lbs

- Go to Hawaii. :-D

Until next time...

A Secret Secret

The Focus Class at my church KCBT (check it out!) had a panel of three guys and three ladies to discuss things that the other sex should know about them. My roommate, Mandy, told me about it because I wouldn’t be there because I’ve never graduated from Jr. High (kidding), and wondered what I thought that guys should know about girls. Now what I’m about to tell you is something that dawned on me the day previous to her asking me this question. Whether or not guys actually need to know this….eh (insert shrug), I’m going to tell it anyway. And if this doesn't apply to you ladies…eh. This is something that I noticed about myself and when I shared it…others had felt the same thing.

True Story: We claim men. In our heads (and eventually in our hearts). Regardless of whether or not they like us, see us, or even know us…we claim them. What does this look like?

Step 1: I like Henry (no, there is no real Henry. I don’t even know a Henry). I see him and think to myself, ‘He is handsome. He is funny. He loves Jesus. He could POSSIBLY be “the One”. I like him.’ I then start to daydream about him. I over analyze possible situations or scenarios (which are pretty much not possible), and start to fall for him. He eventually takes root in my heart . My dear sweet Henry…he is MY dear sweet Henry.

Problem: Said “dear sweet Henry” probably doesn’t even know I exist, and he MORE than likely and importantly, he doesn’t even like me!! I heard Jim Lee say, “You can’t date someone if you are not friends with him. Or if you don’t know to him”.

Step 2: I claim him. Notice “My dear sweet Henry”. Emphasis on ‘my’. In my head and in my heart I have acknowledge him as mine. I have daydreamed him as being mine. So I now hold him in my heart and eyes as one day being mine.

Problem: By claiming Henry in my heart (which is what I’ve just done), he is now like an idol. A desire. An even bigger problem is this: What if he starts dating someone else?

Step 3: Here’s where it gets sticky and tricky and all around no bueno. For some girls, if we like a guy, all we do is claim them in our hearts and heads. We keep it to our selves. But for others, they decide to share their “heart” with other people. “I really like Henry, Betty. I love that he loves the color fuchsia like me. He eats an apple like me. AND he even likes baseball…”

Problem: What happens when we tell someone this: that person recognizes that you like that guy, and then because you’re friends (and being your friend is more important than any guy could be), they won’t like or date them.

((Now, I realize that I’m going to the extreme when it come to this scenario. Welcome to my brain. I go to the extreme (at least in my head).))

So now that Betty knows that I like Henry, Henry is safe from Betty (because Betty is my friend and she would NEVER agree to date or like a guy that I like), or at least I think he is. But what if...what if he asks HER out?? She needs to ask my permission?? Hecks no.

All this “liking” and “claiming” is going on inside my head, while Henry has no clue that I like him, does not mean he is mine to claim. It doesn't mean that other girls can't like him, and that he can't like other girls.

(I could go on about this but I feel like I’m beating a rug here.)

I used to claim a guy in my head. Say I like him, like him, and give my heart away. When he would start dating a girl (that was obviously not me), my heart would be semi-crushed. WHY!?!? Why do we claim people? If we tell a friend we like someone, and then they end up dating that same guy, why do we feel betrayed? I never had a “claim” on that guy. There’s no reason I should be upset when that guy doesn’t like me. It’s just…ridiculous. Another way the enemy causes rifts and division among people.

I’m learning not to claim things. Not just boys, but friendships, jobs, position, material things, etc. It a type of pride. An idol. Unless it’s Jesus, I’m leaving it alone until it’s given to me. I can’t keep giving my heart away to these things and be surprised when my heart comes back bruised and beaten when I haven’t guarded it.

I hope this makes sense and I don’t seem shallow. So the secret, my secret: Once upon a time I would claim a guy as my own without his knowledge, but now… I refuse to.

Introduction before/for the Beginning

I. Am. Scared.

…of writing.

I used to love writing and wrote ALL THE TIME. But somewhere between high school and now I stopped. Maybe it was because I didn’t have time or because I thought that my writing was lame. I’m scared that if someone were to read what I write and not like it, I feel that their opinion of me would change. I do. So because of this, I think of every word that I write and judge it before it goes and does something silly or embarrassing that could scar my “writing image“. So I titled my blog, Weighted Words, as my constant reminder.

Side Note: I’m also scared of the grammatical errors that I AM going to make. Be gentle.