I may run away. After graduation, of course. What good am I without that little piece of paper? 

Destinations include London, Ireland, and Colorado. I need a change of scenery. New faces, new conversations. People who don't know me. People who don't ask where I went to to school or what I want to do.

I just don't know if I'm brave enough to leave.

Some days are better than others.

A few days ago, I was fine. Happy, even.  Today, I'm empty. The sadness is overwhelming. 

Emmanuel, God with us. "No one told me that grief felt so like fear." CS Lewis

So glad the semester is wrapping up. Two projects and a spring semester away from freedom. Post-graduation plans still pending. Best ideas include European hostiles, big planes, and interior decorating. Open to suggestions.

Christmas is only 27 days away. I haven't done any shopping. None. Zip, zilch, nada.

Great.

Stayed up late talking to siblings #3, #4, and #5. #2 is always missing. Fraternity + girlfriend < family. I think he forgot.


Joseph (13, #5, bottom of the food chain) is one of my four favorites. Every time I come home, he acts like I'm returning from war. "Kaaaaaaylin! You're here!" Hello, stardom.

It's strange to think that four years ago I was ready to graduate high school. My heart hasn't changed. I feel like the same girl, just surrounded by different walls and people. 

Dad organized a meeting with a marketing firm that specializes in non-profit organizations. They host high profile events for huge charities. I think I could love that. I want to feel like I'm making the world a better place, one champagne flute at a time.

Anyway, I made oatmeal cookies after all. The normal kind, with flour and eggs and 8.8 grams of fat per serving. Baking them felt like some sick form of torture. They say 90% of taste is smell. So untrue.

It's Sunday morning in the Staub house. Biscuits are burning, Nathan is shouting "Shake Your Money Maker," and egg yolk is dripping down the cabinets. 


I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.


Thought about making gluten-free oatmeal cookies today, but all the recipes I found required flax seed, or brown rice flour, or a strange combination of both. Sick.

"Music and love. They're going to bring you joy."

Visited Trader Joes yesterday. I kinda like that place. Organic, gluten-free, dairy-free, egg-free. 

Final shopping "spree:"

2 grapefruit

6 organic kiwis

1 bottle of apple cider

1 can of Joe's Best Coffee

Mom bought me a loaf of Nature Valley's Gluten-Free wheat bread. $7.99. It's the best kind, though. Tastes like flavored cardboard, instead of soggy computer paper. Yessss.

 I hate how high maintenance I sound ordering food. 

"Um, hello. Can I see your gluten-free menu? Oh, you don't have one. Okay. Well, I'll take the Cobb Salad, but no cheese. Or croutons. Or egg. Does your honey mustard dressing contain any milk protein? You don't know. Of course you don't know. I'll take the vinegarette. On the side, so I can sniff out any deadly contamination before pouring it over my rabbit food. Thanks."

What happened to the "I'll take a cheeseburger" girl?

Busy fall break: played follow-the-leader in a corn maze, set 10+ marshmallows on fire, stole covers, baked pumpkin pie, chocolate cake and ginger snaps (burnt nothing), sang "happy birthday," watched football, attended costume contest party (lost miserably), heard about Jesus, ate a jalapeño, went to the park, watched a movie, slept with the window open.

Loving the cold weather.

"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose." Jim Elliot

Last night, I went on a tangent about the insignificance of the nuclear family and the tragedy we call the American dream.

This morning, I woke up wondering if I really believed anything I said. If Jesus really is the giver of good things, and if Hallmark really is right, and if love really is more important than everything else... if all that's true, then maybe waking up in a red brick house on the corner of Main Street isn't so bad. 

But what if a good thing, a really good thing, isn't your child's refrigerator art, or sharing a bed with your spouse, or occasionally volunteering at a local charity? Then millions of people are wasting their lives surrounded by floral wallpaper instead of a dirt floor and hurting people.

by now you should have somehow realized what you gotta do
well I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now


there are many things that I would like to say to you
but I don't know how


'cause maybe you're going to be the one that saves me
and after all
you're my wonderwall

Tonight's food experiment:
Pork tenderloin with a curry, basil dry rub and brown rice.


Cross your fingers.


Cotton Bouquets.

Jude 1:24

Yesterday was interesting. 

Thought a lot, read a lot, prayed a lot, wrote a lot, cried a lot, slept a lot.

Daddy would say days like that are good for the soul, like sweet cornbread or big, red ribbons on Christmas presents.


It's pouring rain in Athens today. Opted to catch the Orbit to Park Hall. Bad, bad idea. The only thing worse than crowded buses are buses crowded with soaking wet people. 


When I get home, I'm curling up in a warm blanket, drinking some coffee with forbidden cream, and watching I Love Lucy reruns. 

It's never too early for Christmas music. Seriously. 

Operation Christmas Child collection week is November 15 - 22.  Make a box. :) 

In keeping with my restaurant theme, here's another one for the records:

Veni Vidi Vici in Buckhead offers a Truffle Tasting Menu, featuring nine of the restaurant's top dishes. I can't pronounce half of the words, so it must be good. 

Spotted: Fred and Elina sipping grape juice out of plastic wine glasses. White tablecloth, sticks (of the bread and candle variety), and Barry White. 

Location? Room 326 in the Student Learning Center.

True story.

Found TOP FLR in an Atlanta restaurant search. The Hanger Steak sounds awesomeeee.  

On a lighter note, found a fabulous recipe while perusing the Gluten-Free Goddess blog: Quinoa Salad with Pears, Baby Spinach, and Chick Peas in Maple Vinaigrette. Determined to try sometime this week.


Maybe this no dairy, no gluten, no egg thing is going to be just fine. 


Planning on overdosing on chocolate milk and omelets on a "cheat day," though. SOON. If you can cheat on a diet, why not on allergies?

Beginning to understand a fraction of who I am. It's not pretty. The moment I think I understand the enormity of my sin, it surprises me. 


It's overwhelming, realizing I do nothing good on my own. I play at kindness, at humility, at mercy, at love. It's like looking in a mirror covered in dirt, soap scum and toothpaste, and wiping a small corner clean with a rag called "trying." The more I try, the more I see who I really am. The bitterness, the selfishness, the envy, the lying. 


It's so much simpler to sing "oh, how He loves us" when sitting in a church pew. Believing it is nearly impossible.

5:47 pm
Tonight's cooking endeavor: Caramel Apple Pork Chops and red wine.

Stay tuned for results.


6:37 pm
UPDATE Success, scratch the wine.

Pixie Lott - Use Somebody

It's another hot day in October.

I feel so... stagnant; chugging along, humming a tank engine's mantra over and over. "I think I can, I think I can." 

I'm so restless. May has never felt so far away.

On a lighter note, found a book that encompasses three of my favorite things: art, architecture and Louis Vuitton. Added to my ever growing Christmas list.

If I never got married, this would be my dining room. 

Unfortunately, I have a love affair. 

This week's resolutions:

Run. Every single day.

Paint nails. No chipping.

Read a book.

Break ANTM obsession.

Ace calculus test. Ha.

Decide life plans. 

Drink absolutely no coffee.

In other news, MARK 4000 proving to be just as boring as every time before.

Boy in front of me Facebook stalking Barbie in a bikini [and to think men claim to be fully evolved]. 

Bad news: she's just as plastic as her 36-18-33 twin.

Love that mirror.

A right to happiness doesn't, for me, make much more sense than a right to be six feet tall, or to have a millionaire for your father, or to get good weather whenever you want to have a picnic. 
CS LEWIS

Love these. Thank you, Facebook, for endless entertainment.

 

"Ladies, LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS. Put some freaking clothes on! Also, just because someone gave them an acid wash and calls them legging jeans, DOESN'T MAKE THEM SO."

 

"They're making a movie about the creator of Facebook. I heard they tried with the creator of Twitter, but its hard to make an interesting movie out of a man who didn't say anything over 140 characters."

Diet coke obsession. Zero calories, sugar high.

Athens, Flowery Branch, Atlanta, 

It's been fun, but I'd like to go back to Mentone now.

Grace does not depend on suffering to exist, but where there is suffering you will find grace in many facets and colors.

LOVE.

"I don't mind living in a man's world, as long as I can be a [Heineken keg robot] in it."

Marilyn Monroe, with a little help from Wieden + Kennedy.

I can't believe this ad actually aired in the 21st century. Women are more than beer serving, slipper delivering, cleaning and cooking sex robots.

Thanks.

Oldddddd.

20 August 2009

Off to learn about juveniles and their government-approved life without parole sentences. Hello, mercy.

26 August 2009

There’s a poster of Chad Reed hanging beside my bed. He was some guy on some dirt bike on some dirt track.

It’s the first thing I see every morning.

That has to be the best thing about marriage; opening your eyes and seeing a person, your person, not some cheap poster of a motorcycle taped to your wall.

“Good morning, Chad. You’re looking the same as ever.”

6 September 2009

I hate any academic buildings that are not Sanford, SLC, or Brooks. Business people do it better, newer, cleaner. Le Conte smells like old history textbooks, Boyd like the cats we dissected in Mrs. Sutton’s Anatomy lab, and Baldwin like arrogance, as only a sociology building can.

What is it you want, Mary? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey. That's a pretty good idea. I'll give you the moon, Mary. 

Learning that “happily ever after” is a choice, not an expected outcome.

I'm from strawberry shortcake.
I'm from sweet tea and homemade peach ice cream.
I'm from Southern Living recipes and casseroles.


I'm from acres of green and miles of long dirt roads.
I'm from cowgirl boots and horses,
lakeside barbeques and magnolia trees,
pink roses and hydrangea bushes.


I'm from loving my husband.
I'm from wondering if I've met him yet.
I'm from being terrified to admit my mistakes.
and feeling I have nothing to give him.


I'm from the John Piper quote, “the really wonderful moments in life are not those of self-realization, but of self-forgetfulness.”
I'm from never being selfless enough to know what self-forgetfulness is.


I'm from loneliness.
I'm from “My grace is sufficient.”
I'm from wondering if that's true.


I'm from Daddy,
his 6'5'' shadow, Levi bluejeans and servant's heart.
I'm from provision and protection.
I'm from being convinced I could never love any man more.


I'm from a beauty queen.
I'm from secretly wishing I was half as beautiful,
inside or out.


I'm from an open front door.


I'm from Annabelle.
I'm from her legalism and her love of people.
I'm from fighting over hairbrushes to singing Taylor Swift.
I'm from her forgiveness.


I'm from Daniel.
I'm from his humility.
I'm from envying his love of life.
I'm from wanting him to be proud of me,
and not feeling like I deserve it.


I'm from Nathan.
I'm from feeling like I love him more than he can imagine
but wishing I knew how to love him more.
I'm from screaming matches and Buford football games.
I'm from all his undeserved grace.


I'm from Joseph;
from adoring his quirkiness and his love of mechanics.
I'm from hating that he's grown up so fast,
and wishing I was there in high school.


I'm from feeling like a failure as a big sister.


I'm from an NFL giant.

I'm from "here she comes, Miss America!"

I'm from twirling and piggy back rides.

I'm from a wooden hospital chair and empty eyes.

I'm from being forgotten.

I'm from reading that grace does not depend on suffering to exist, 

but where there is suffering you will find grace in many facets and colors.

I'm from "Jesus loves me, this I know."

I'm from an insatiable imagination.
I'm from constant daydreaming.


I'm from wishing I lived a life of integrity.
I'm from a paralyzing fear of what that would look like.


I'm from thinking cursing is perfectly acceptable,
but stopping, because “it isn't lady like.”


I'm from wondering if I've ever done anything to be proud of.


I'm from a floral couch and an kind, oblivious counselor.
I'm from telling her what she wanted to hear,
and sugar-coated pity parties.


I'm from St. Augustine, CS Lewis and Dr. Seuss.
I'm from Johnny Cash, The Beatles and Taylor Swift.


I'm from a rope swing and daisies,
"bouquets of sharpened pencils" and notebook paper.


I'm from "oh to grace, what a debtor."

Sister, let me be your servant.

21.

I'm in the process of writing a "to do" list for the next year.

Here's what I have so far.

To live a life of integrity.

To make straight A's.

To get into graduate school.

To run a half marathon.

To journal daily.

To join a small group in Athens.

To live loved.

To make an interior decorating board.

To plan a wedding.

To always have flowers.

To listen first, then speak.

To learn to cook and bake.

To read through the Bible in a year.

To run for Miss UGA.

To join an intramurals sports team.

To love people.

To learn to do a cartwheel.

To try 365 recipes – a new one every day.

To dwell on whatever is “true, lovely, admirable, excellent or praiseworthy.”

To give.

To love mercy.

To cherish honesty.

To not let my “left hand know what [my] right hand is doing.”

To act justly.

To forgive.

To pray.

To support a child overseas.

To drink a glass of wine every day.

To read three C.S. Lewis books.

To make a photo portfolio.

To whiten teeth.

To smile at strangers.

To host a little black dress cocktail party.

To write a letters.

To speak French fluently.

To take a yoga class.

To never have less than half a tank of gas.

To always be manicured.

To give flowers.

To fly in a plane.

To go overseas.

This pretty cool guy once told me his life was going to be “a big adventure.”

I hope I can keep up.

I decided to keep a journal this summer, to officially document the adventures of living with six sixth graders.

These are some of my favorite entries.

15 June 2010

During our nightly devotion, Kiley asked if God was like an earthworm, because neither one has a definite gender. 

Jesus, give me peace.

16 June 2010

Walked out of the dining hall this morning to see Nicole hanging off the top of the 12 foot tether ball pole.

After she slid down, she gave me a disgusted look. I always ruin all the fun.

Later that day

Walking back from night activity tonight, saw the twins holding hands.

In awe of their love for one another. Resolved to love Daniel, Nathan, Anna and Joseph more fully.

17 June 2010

This morning I come exhausted and joyful, worried and carefree, blessed and forgotten, shunned and accepted.

Jesus loves me, this I know.

18 June 2010

Dear Justin Bieber,

Thank you for making my camper's dream of her future wedding so vivid. Also, the dance parties you inspire are beyond memorable.

Love,

Baby

21 June 2010

Jesus, I am resting, resting, in the joy of what Thou art.

22 June 2010

I miss eating what I crave, I miss feeling pretty, I miss loving those I want to love, I miss air conditioning, I miss my phone, I miss feeling appreciated. 

I need affirmation. I feel like I made a mistake coming here.

23 June 2010

It still hurts.

Why? It was over five months ago.

Jesus, he's Yours.

25 June 2010

Dear Cabin 4,

Thank you for rejoicing over the small things-- Jai Ho, Justin Bieber and silly bands. Thank you for loving each other.

Thank you for deaf ears. They may keep you from hearing me call your name thirteen times, but it's taught me patience.

Love,

Mary Kaylin

26 June 2010

It is well with my soul.

27 June 2010

Phil and Marsha instructed us to journal about something Jesus has taught us this summer, and all I can think of are cheesy, romantic quotes. I'm sure You understand. You created boys.

Love is everything it's cracked up be... it really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for.

Erica Long

I didn't come here to tell you I can't live without you. I can. I just don't want to.

Rumor Has It

Relationships are for people who are waiting for something better to come along.

Hitch

30 June 2010

Today, camp celebrates “the Fourth of July.” I don't feel like I have nearly enough energy. I'll really miss being at home on Sunday.

2 July 2010

Keep me confident and humble.

Confident, because I belong to Jesus, humble, because I know the enormity of my sin.

3 July 2010

This term, I was assigned a “junior table” in the dining hall. In camp staff language, that translates as “shit.”

Lunch was interesting.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucy balancing a big bowl of green beans in her left hand. Just as I was about to deliver my perfunctory “maybe you should set that down” counselor response, the bowl teetered. In a moment of panic, sweet little Lucy stood up, and the bowl toppled into my lap. I closed my eyes as the dark green juice streamed down my leg, soaking my socks.

The bowl made such a loud noise, the surrounding tables grew quiet. I opened my eyes to see Lucy's wide blue eyes, filled with tears, staring at the beans in my lap.

In feigned calmness and poise, I scooped them back into the bowl and raised my hand for serve staff assistance.

“Hi. I think we're going to need more green beans.” I picked up one of the beans and popped it in my mouth. “They were delicious.”

I winked at Lucy, and she beamed back, relieved.

In some unexplainable way, it felt like a small victory. I conquered yet another dining hall fiasco.

4 July 2010

Give me the grace to love intentionally.

5 July 2010

I daydream. Sometimes I'm afraid it robs me of today. I'm always imagining the next day, the next week, the next twenty years. It's an obsession. If I'm particularly unhappy with current reality, I launch myself into an alternative reality.

Today, I'm a twenty-five, MBA graduate working on the thirty-fifth floor of a shiny skyscraper. 

I live in a ritzy, Buckhead neighborhood with my handsome husband who, in his spare time, washes the dishes and goes on walks with our rottweiler, Piper. 

We host china-and-linen dinner parties, Frank Sinatra singing in the background. My dress, a Lily Pulitzer prize, is perfectly complimented by grandmother's pearls and Ferragamo, patent-leather heels. 

After cooking a fabulous, Betty Crocker, southern meal, Southern Living appears on my front porch, camera crew in tow. Surprise, they're here to write a feature story on my two-story, antebellum home. Thankfully, years of immaculate housekeeping insured every pillow was fluffed, every banister polished, every towel folded neatly.

Once the guests are gone, hubby and I curl up in our RL pajamas on the leather couch in our spacious living room in front of a stone fireplace. We roast marshmallows and assemble s'mores, which, thanks to my strenuous work out regimen, steer clear of my thighs.

Set me free from small dreams.

6 July 2010

Today is packing day.

I'll miss my girls so much.

Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine.

9 July 2010

Love mercy.

12 June 2010

New term resolution:

To dwell on the beauty of camp, the sovereignty of the cross, and the gruesome reality of the crucification.

13 July 2010

Beginning to realize my sense of worth comes from the approval and adoration of others. I wish my heart was ignited by something far more “lovely, admirable, excellent [or] praiseworthy.” I am a lover of people and their ability to make much of me.

15 July 2010

“Look and listen: carefully. Pay close attention to everything I am going to show you. That's why you have been brought here.”

Ezekiel 40:4, The Message

I'm so lonely.

“No one told me grief felt so much like fear.”

CS Lewis

Well, I decided to blog about camp life once I realized the sheer futility of falling asleep with so many unspoken words in my head.

“Life is good.”

There are a lot of those pastel t-shirts floating around camp, almost always on someone with a cheery disposition. Just today, I saw one on a little camper from Cabin A, chocolate ice cream smeared cheek to cheek, skipping from one activity to the next. The infectious, toothless grin confirmed she hadn't a care in her whole, eight-year-old world.

She has no grasp on the amount of tragedy and pain in this world: the orphans suffering in El Salvador, the men and women fighting for her American freedom, the lonely woman at the local gas station. She doesn't understand the crucification or sacrifice. She's content with her double scoop in a waffle cone.

I find myself feigning the same innocence.

I'm satisfied playing make believe in my imaginary world. The people in it are merely puppets for my own selfishness, expected to react to my many mood swings and unjustified commands.

It's like believing in Santa Clause, being told he doesn't exist, and stubbornly refusing to believe it, because it just doesn't suit your second grade fantasy. Suffering may exist in the world, but it doesn't fit into my egocentric universe. Instead of mimicking Peter, I hear myself saying, “Lord, send them.” Send them to the unpopular, the unattractive, the self-righteous, the poor, the hurting, the greedy, the cheaters, the liars. Let me stay, surrounded by the lovely people in my world, under the alibi of “Christian fellowship.”

Sometimes I think if I truly understood the majesty of Jesus or the horror of his crucification, no amount of Christian fellowship would satisfy or subdue my need to love.

I run to those who contribute to my self-satisfying world: those who make much of me, those who affirm, provide, protect, love, cherish and adore me. I simultaneously ignore those who hurt, ignore, insult, or make little of me.

Life is wonderful from my tiny world.