The Dress

Have you ever been in a situation when sudden panic hits and you feel claustrophobic? I experienced this over the weekend. In a dressing room, in fact. I was having a girls night with my best friend and we decided to hit up the mall. We ventured into H & M, which is one of my most favorite stores and they were having a sale. Even better. I happened to see a dress I've had my eye on for awhile and was super happy to find it part of the sale. I love a good bargain! We were in a bit of a hurry, the store was getting ready to close but I knew I needed to try this dress on because H & M's sizes are so weird. Deana (my best friend) had already tried her clothes on and was headed to the line, which was already pretty long. I jumped inside the dressing room and slipped the dress on. It fit perfect. Done deal. As I went to take the dress off, it got stuck around my shoulders. I tugged and nothing. I tugged again. Nothing. "Hmmm. The dress fits, I had no trouble getting it ON. What's the deal? ". I tried again and nothing. I lowered the dress down, trying to figure out what was wrong. Again, I tried to get it off. It was stuck. I tried not to panic but there was no point. I started thinking of the worse scenarios. I'm going to have to be cut out of this dress. What if I tug it off and it gets stuck around my head and suffocates me? I could just hear the staff's conversation tomorrow, "Oh my God. You will not believe this. This girl came in last night and tried on this dress that she thought fit her but it didn't and she couldn't get it off. We had to cut it off of  her.". I quickly text Deana and waited. And waited. Finally, I called her only to get her voicemail, at which I remembered her phone was dead. I was faced with three options. One, ask the dressing room attendant, which happened to be a guy, to help me get it off and let's be honest, that would be so awkward but a very good conversation piece. Two, I could just yank it off, probably ripping it or as mentioned before, I might suffocate to death. Or three, I could go get my best friend and have her help me. I decided the logical option would be the latter. Poor Deana. I yanked her from the line, trying to get back to my dressing room before someone robbed me, where my handbag was at. Deana had no mercy. She was laughing so hard, which made me start laughing and I'm sure the guy outside was wondering why two females were stuck in a tiny dressing room, laughing, followed with "Ok, pull." and "IT'S STUCK!". The good news? We got the dress off. The bad news? I bought the next size up and tried it on, once we got back to the house, only to get the other one stuck. Yes, it happened again. Only this time, Deana would not help me. She made me get it off myself, telling me I had to learn how to get the dress off, because I may not have any assistance the next time I wore it. As I stumbled, panicked and struggled, my dear friend went to grab her camera. I was helpless. Stuck in a dress, trying to get it off without ripping it and she was snapping pictures.

This is the only decent one I could post.

I finally got it off! I was so confused because the dress fit perfectly but was such a pain to get off. I think someone needs to consult with H & M's design team, regarding this issue. I kept the dress and wore it to church on Sunday. Bold move, right?

All during service and eating dinner afterwards, all I could think about was, "I have to somehow, get this dress off when I get home.". I will not lie, I was in a state of panic all day. I guess I worried for nothing and my persistence paid off. Or I worried myself so much, I lost a couple inches, because I had no trouble getting it off when I got home.  If at first you don't succeed, try again or rip a perfectly beautiful dress. 

Cheers!

Charity

Sunday School Chronicles: I Got Played

The Sunday School Chronicles:

I'm by no means, a veteran Sunday School teacher. In fact, there's still so much that I want and NEED to learn about kids ministry. I have however, been over our church's kids ministry for 6 years. I helped birth a successful kids ministry from a home missions church in the heart of San Francisco. I've seen the good, bad and ugly. I've had food thrown at me. I've been cussed at. I've had to dodge fists from angry bus kids. I've gone into living rooms and helped bus kids get ready for Sunday school, as their mom was passed out on a couch with a hangover, from the night before. I've stood on the porch of a bus girls home, waiting for her, while in the meantime, her dad was doing a drug deal 5 feet in front of me. This is no cute Sunday school program. Over the past few years, I've had several individuals email, write and call me, asking how I've done it. Well, here it is. This is me, chronicling my 6 year (and counting) journey through this ministry God has called me to. I pray these chronicles will enlighten, encourage and motivate you.

I got played...

Six years ago, my sister asked me to cover her midweek kids class at Bible Study. I'm still covering for her, today.

I was not supposed to be involved with kids ministry. Or, so I thought. I was the youth pastor at our home missions church and enjoying it, very much. My sister was over the kids ministry. It was just how it was supposed to be. My sister, working at a preschool, was a natural for this job. I liked kids, but not enough to be over a kids ministry. Or, so I thought. Apparently, I don't think well. Our church was very small at this time, with not many children. Maybe 5, although I'm not sure one was actually a child. Maybe more of a little monster? When my sister asked me if I could cover for her because she had to work late, I agreed but had no clue what I was getting myself into. This is how it went down...

And the award for "Epic Fail Sunday School Teacher" goes to...

I'm pretty sure I was more scared of the kids, than they were scared of me. I had no clue what I was doing. I was used to teaching teenagers, making them do gross stuff, like chug a gallon of milk for a candy bar. I taught on Adam and Eve and I'm pretty sure I told it quicker than it took God to make them. They colored a picture and that was it. We sat there, just staring at each other. They asked me if they got snack and I told them, "water". They thought I was joking. I wasn't. What kind of Sunday School teacher doesn't even bring a snack? Me. I finally let them in the backyard to run wild, since my dad was preaching and I knew it would be a very long one. The backyard of the church was very small, guarded with a tall wood privacy fence, so they couldn't get far. Unless, they climbed over it. I should've known they were more than capable of that. When church dismissed, the kids were so happy to get to their parents. I don't know why.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me...

I didn't give it much thought, since I was under the impression I had just covered for my sister and wouldn't have to worry about teaching another Sunday School class, the rest of my life. Was I in for a surprise. Apparently, God had something else in store. He's a funny guy. My sister had to work late again, the next week, except this time, she gave me a couple days notice, instead of two hours. I almost cried when she asked me. I could only picture those little faces just staring at me, across the room. Why did I tell her I would? Because, it was home missions and you do everything in home missions, if you're the pastor's kid, that's why. 

"We have no drummer. Can you play?'

"I can't even clap on beat. Sure."

"The usher isn't going to be here, tonight. I need you to do it."

"We have an usher?"

"You're singing, today."

"I'd rather gargle gravel, but ok."

"Oh yeah, you're running the soundboard."

"We have 5 people. Do we even need sound?"

"Your dad is sick. You're going to say a word."

"Do you care anything about this church?"

Can I get an "amen"?

Not a quitter...

I'm stubborn. VERY stubborn. I also, hate when I feel like I've failed at something. I'm not perfect but when I know I have the capability of doing better and I fail, I get mad. So, when my sister asked me to teach this second week, home girl wasn't playin'. I made up in my mind that I wasn't going to have 10 little eyes staring at me, as they drank their water. I went to the big dogs. I mean, dog. It's not like we had a pastoral staff, at this time. My dad was that dog. BIG DOG. Let me clarify. When I asked him if I could have some church money to get a few Sunday school supplies, I'm not sure who was more surprised. Him or I. He looked at me as if I had grown two heads. I explained to him, as if I knew what I was talking about, that in order to have an impacting kids ministry, in addition to water as a snack, we were going to need a few supplies. Again, he looked at me like I had grown two heads. He gave me the church card and told me to get what I needed. It's a really good thing I wasn't a seasoned Sunday school teacher, otherwise the church would still be paying off that bill. I made a trip to the Christian bookstore and stocked up. I had no clue what I was doing. I grabbed the first thing I could identify with, when I was a kid in Sunday school. The. Big. Giant. Felt. Board. I bought the whole thing. Every felt Bible character, animal, fruit, tree, flower, rod, Jesus sandal, you name it. This thing was going down. Oh, I wasn't done. I went and bought craft supplies and SNACK! Those poor little kids weren't going to have to drink water, again. I never stopped to even think, "Charity, why are you putting so much energy into this? You're only covering one class.". I had done a successful job of buying supplies, but I had no clue what to teach them. Let's see. I have like 3,492 Bible characters I can play with on this felt board. I decided to start with the basics. Adam and Eve. Yes, they heard it last week, but not with the super cool felt board. 

Hook, line and sinker...

I think I scared the kids. Pretty sure it was the fact they had something other than water, as snack. I had the whole enchilada. Songs, games, craft and when I brought out the felt board, I lost count of the "ooh's and ahh's". I seriously felt like a hero. I completely forgot about everything else going on around me, except bringing that story to life. There was no time to even go outside and play. Bummer.

When church was dismissed, we all just stood there, looking at each other. It dawned on me. I didn't want the kids to leave and they didn't want to leave. I could feel something pull at my heart and I knew it wasn't because I had brought in craft supplies, snack other than water or the very cool felt board. 

God has a funny and unique way of reeling you in. Sometimes, there's no tiptoeing through the tulips. It's right there like a neon sign, staring you right in the face, because God knows that individual is strong enough to accept it. Other times, it's subtle and gentle and sneaks up on you, without you even knowing it. All I know is, I got played.

The following week, I ASKED, if I could teach...

Until next week...

Cheers!

Charity

If you got it, flaunt it!

You've heard the saying, "If you've got it, flaunt it.". That is the worst thing you could ever take to heart. Seriously. There are so many reasons as to why this is such a wrong approach, but that's an entire book. I knew a girl once, that had the largest butt. We will call her "Molly". I will not embellish upon this subject much, because if you know me personally, you will find the humor and irony in this. Back to "Molly", not me. Molly used to think that choosing wardrobe choices that accentuated her derriere, was awesome, sexy and appealing. It was not. She did not have a Kim Kardashian, J Lo or Jessica Biel butt. It was not any of these. It was more along the lines of Oprah Winfrey. Sorry, Oprah. I would cringe when we were together because it was just nasty. Plain nasty. I knew everybody was thinking the same thing I was, when she walked away. Two pigs fighting in a blanket. Several times, I heard Molly say, while looking in the mirror, "If you got it, flaunt it!".  Molly didn't have it and Molly shouldn't be flaunting it.

This applies to so many different areas in life. I could seriously write a short novel on where this applies. But, I won't. Instead, I will use my blog and several paragraphs. If you follow me on Facebook, you might remember a status that I posted a couple days ago about broadcasting your "powerful" walk with God. Since, going back to school and realizing that I've chosen writing as a career, I will often times write a status and make a mental note to expound on it, later through my blog. So, if you're following me and see a status that actually has some sort of depth and merit (those are very few and far between), you very well, might see it in this blog, later. Ok, chasing rabbit trails...

I chased that rabbit trail because what I'm blogging about is a point I made, through Facebook a couple days ago....

Look at me! I spoke to Jesus all day! I just used the bathroom on myself, because we were so deep in conversation and I didn't want to break up the connection, to go to the bathroom. Look at me! Look at me! Look at me!

 I happily hit "unfollow" on Twitter a couple days ago, after an individual tweeted scripture verses, how much they were praying, how much they were fasting, how many people they told about Jesus, day after day, day after day. And sadly, there's several others I know, like this. There's a very good reason, that those that do not call themselves Christians, feel like we as Christians, are self righteous. I think that and I'm a Christian. I've heard my dad say this to me, personally, and to congregations through ministering, "If it's right in here (pointing to his heart), it's going to be right out here (gesturing to the room).". And believe me, when I haven't talked to God in a few days, you're going to know it. When something is not right on the inside, it doesn't matter how hard you try to pretend, put on a certain facade and smile, it's going to show. A man can dress up as a woman, all he wants to, trying to convince everybody that he's a woman, but he's still a man. 

You're a part of our congregation now, so why are you still looking like a sinner?

Without going into too much on this subject, for the sake of not creating a monster, many times church folk of a certain faith, believe that as soon as you become a member, you should immediately start "acting" like one of them. 

Interpretation: You should look, talk and act like us because outward appearance and making people believe you're one of us, is really what it's all about. Who cares about a relationship. It's what people think. It's all about image. 

I have had the wonderful opportunity of being blessed with not only great parents, but a dad who is such an amazing spiritual mentor, in my life. When a lady approached my dad, asking why different women in the church were pressuring her to dress a certain way, after only being a converted member for a very short while, she was very discouraged. My dad's answer was, "You work on you. When you have a good relationship with God, everything else will fall into place. You just focus on you and God.". 

What's going on inside, is going to start showing on the outside. When you know Jesus for yourself and have a healthy relationship with Him, it's going to show in every area of your life. When a couple have a healthy relationship, babies will eventually show up. If I logged on to Facebook one morning and a fellow "friend" was describing their marital sex life in detail, to everybody, I would be appalled, embarrassed and mortified for that person (and their poor spouse), along with the rest of the social media population that would have the misfortune of reading it. I would also think they were an idiot. So, why would you talk about your "intimate" relationship with your Heavenly Father? It's private. It's intimate. It should be a special thing between you and God. When it says "Let your good deeds shine...", it did not mean to prop up a strobe light on social media and let 'er rip. When you're constantly broadcasting your so called spiritual walk with God, I'm questioning if there really is one.

Look at all of this healthy food, I just spent a fortune on at Whole Foods. Eating healthy is so expensive. 

I'm guessing those pictures on FB are BEFORE you fry it, right?

I go to the gym, twice a day. So tiring, but so worth it!

Really? After a year of going to the gym twice a day, I could swear you're supposed to LOOK like it.

If you got it, flaunt it! Right?

Cheers!

Charity

School, Strawberries and Football

Are you familiar with that feeling when you check your surroundings and ask yourself,"There's really people like this, that make up part of the human population?". There are a handful of places, such as this. To name a few, Walmart, Popeye's in the ghetto, Social Security office, Dollar Tree and my math class. I began school this past week and I'm very confident I chose great classes, this semester, except my math class. For some reason, I feel like it chose me. My first day back began with my math class. As classmate after classmate started to drag their leg, sag and shimmy in, it didn't take me long to realize that I was going to be the classiest person, in this class. By the end of the week, I realized I was going to probably be the only person that passes this class.

My instructor is a nice guy, except for the fact that he brings these ice breaker balls with him. You throw them around, wherever your thumb lands, you have to answer that question. Prior to answering it, you have to stand and introduce yourself, even though you've already introduced yourself 10 times previously, and the class talks back to you, ending with an applause. It's very awkward. I was assigned a study group for the semester. I feel like I'll be the only one studying. They've already asked to copy my homework. They have a bright future. I just know it.  A summary of my math class, so far....

1. First day of school, the instructor greeting us realizes he has the wrong class and abruptly walks out. I've seen him a few times since then. I hope he got everything worked out.

2. Our instructor sent us on a scavenger hunt, in which I hated.

3. A latino classmate swears he can speak Italian. He can't.

4. The "f" bomb is dropped at least 4 times in each class.

5. There is a girl that thinks we're going to be BFF. There's also a guy that thinks we're going to be more than BFF. I'm going to be such a letdown, to both.

6. The highest I've seen a pant waistline on the male population, is mid butt. 

I feel very confident about this class.

My other classes are great....

Western Civilization

1. I love history, so this makes me happy.

2. My instructor is from Tulsa, OK., part of the NRA, collects firearms, referred to God (positively) about 3 times in the first class and said he prays for every student.

3. There was a baby in a sling, in class on Friday.

Political Science

 My instructor is super liberal and thinks America is awful. I have a gut feeling part of our final grade will be burning the American flag.

Lit/English

I got kicked out of this course, on the first day. Apparently, I'm too advanced and my transcripts and test scores place me two classes above. This is good and bad. Good, because I only have two courses left before I walk in December and it's always nice being told you're really smart. Bad, because the course I need to be in might be full. It would've been nice to know I was such a genius before the first day of class.

 I'll be honest. I was exhausted this past week. I haven't even been able to put in any hours with my business. It amazes me how much life can change within just a couple weeks. Honestly? I thought I would miss working full time with my lil' business, but I don't. I guess when your priorities are elsewhere, it just kinda falls into place. Now, that I've gotten into the swing of a schedule, I feel confident this next week, will be a little smoother. I've found myself thinking about the future and trying to get an idea of where I'd like to use my major. I've not worked a full time public job in over two years and I'm a little anxious to get back out there, especially with a degree to have on my resume. The possibilities are endless and I'm excited to see where it takes me.

I was anxious to finally have a free weekend. I say free because for over the past two years, I have had some sort of work project, deadline or task to do, on a weekend. When you own your own business and are focused on getting it up and running, weekends are not really "weekends". This weekend, though? Nothing. I slept in, enjoyed the rain and made chocolate covered strawberries. I also, experienced the loss of the 49ers. I'm from San Francisco, so it was a little impossible to not get wrapped up in the festivities of the play off game. The thing is, I'm not into sports. Neither is my mom. We were on our own this weekend and somehow found ourselves in a warm car, not wanting to get out in the cold, eating yogurt, while listening to the game. It ended badly. My mom is very competitive, so she got a little violent. I'm very emotional, so it got intense. It ended with both of us mad, upset, sad and sweaty, thanks to a warm car. We had no idea what players were were screaming at. For all we know, we were cheering on the Giants quarterback. But, it was fun. I might give sports a try, with the right dosage of Prozac and a good punching bag. 

 So with this, I will bid you goodnight. It's back to meth...I mean, math class, tomorrow.

 Cheers!

Charity

DIY: Embossing Stationary

So, I decided to take a break from my rants about bad pickup lines and all that. It appears I do have other hobbies, besides going on rants. Who know? 

A little interesting (or maybe not interesting) fact about me is I love crafting. I've enjoyed it my entire life and I have my dear mother to thank for this little gift. I have the fondest memories of us sitting at the kitchen table making crafts, in the kitchen making Christmas candy and all sorts of fun little projects. I really had the best childhood. Such sweet memories. A little craft we did when I was little was embossing stationary. Have you heard of this? It's been around forever, so you may have. I've been wanting to do it a little DIY blog entry and I was trying to find something fun, easy and cute. I have another DIY idea that I'm going to blog about next week, but it's one of those that takes awhile. You may not do the whole stationary thing, but you can pretty much emboss anything with a paper surface, except toilet paper. Although, I've never tried that, so I could be wrong. It's been such a long time since I've embossed (I was about 8 when I did this). Out of the clear blue I remembered this little craft project at lunch today and asked my mom to run me through it again. It was really cute to see her expression that I remembered it. I'm thinking we might be having some grownup embossing craft nights, in the near future. I made a quick trip to Michael's and I was amazed at all of the tools and cool things they have for embossing, now. Apparently, it's not just something they did when I was a little kid. I played around with it for awhile, tonight and picked it right back up. Now, that I'm excited about it again, I'm probably going to be embossing anything I can get my hands on. So, who's ready to learn how to emboss?

What you'll need:

*Top Boss Tinted Embossing Stamp Pad 

(You can use a regular ink pad, but to really enhance it, I suggest the tinted pad. I got mine at Michael's.)

*Stamp of your choice

*Embossing Powder 

(For shine and an extra pop, I used sparkle.)

*Stationary Cards, Paper, Note Cards, etc. 

(Blank is the best, but depending on how creative you are, any paper can work.)

*Embossing Heat Gun 

(Mine is a Marvy and I bought it at Michael's. They're around $24 but I used a coupon and got it half off. I will say that the old fashion way is free, but it's been so long I don't know how much more time is involved. You can use an electric stovetop for this procedure. More on that later.)

*Scrap paper (to shake the embossing powder on)

*Wax paper

You're going to want to lay out wax paper to protect whatever surface you're working on. If you're working on a craft table, it may not matter. Next you're going to want to get your stationary of choice and stamp pad ready. This was my choice. I love birds and thought this Tiffany blue card set was perfect. The possibilities are endless. 

You're going to want to keep everything close. This tinted embossing ink pad is slow drying, so you'll have ample time to apply the embossing powder, but I like to have ready and within an arm's reach, just in case.

My stamp of choice was bigger than the ink pad. No problem, though. I just coated the entire thing, thoroughly.

The next step after applying your stamp to your stationary is applying the embossing powder.

Once you've applied the stamp, liberally apply the embossing powder. Coat the entire stamped project.

Once you've covered the entire stamped project, it's now time to shake the excess off. This is where your scrap piece of paper is useful. I don't recommend trying to pour it back into the jar, or you could have a big mess. I prefer a scrap piece of paper. You may have to blow any excess powder off that doesn't shake off on your scrap piece of paper.

Looking pretty, isn't it? I was excited when I started seeing the outcome. It's not done yet, though. Next you're going to apply heat. They didn't have the embossing guns around when I was little, which is why we used an electric stovetop. If you do use heat from the stovetop (electric NOT gas or you'll have more then embossing on your hands), you place it over at about a 45 degree angle, a few inches from the project. This goes for the same with the embossing gun, except it's so much faster. Here's a little video on me using the embossing gun.

This is not a long process, so only allow the heating gun to heat each area until you see the stamped project shine and rise. Applying the heating gun to one are too long can result in over embossing and burn the paper, leaving a yellow tint. Not too pretty. Once you're done heating, turn off the heating gun and you should have a nice result, such as this...

My lighting is really bad, but here's a little peak at how mine turned out. 

The possibilities are endless with embossing. You can do party invites, thank you notes, greeting cards, scrapbooking, the list goes on. Good luck with your embossing project!

Cheers!

Charity

How would you like that helping of "change"?

They say change is good. I'm used to change. I can easily adjust. So, I think. After all, my parents did move our entire family from the midwest (Oklahoma) to San Francisco, when I was 14. Huge culture shock. Change at that age is tough. I left behind friends, everything I knew. I will not lie and say it was easy. Now, I've lived here just as long as I did in the Midwest. San Francisco is my home. Throughout the years, I've experienced my fair share of change. Teenage years are fun but also a pain in the butt. First loves, breakups, high school graduation, adulthood, trying to find yourself. The truth is, you really don't find yourself until you get into adulthood. I think one of the biggest changes in my life, was when my little sister got married. She's two years younger than me (Yes, can you believe it? She got married before me. Totally, broke tradition. That little rebel!) and we are the best of friends. God knew what He was doing when He gave my parents two girls, close in age. He knew that years down the road, when we made that move from the Midwest to the West Coast, that we'd need each other. And we were stuck like glue. We helped each other get through the change. When she got married, I was so happy for her, but at the same time, I was heartbroken. I panicked. At 23 years old. My best friend was growing up, moving on and I was still stuck at home. We did everything together. We even shared a room, at the time. Who would I giggle with at night, going to bed? Who would I vent to? Now, there's this guy in the picture. I guess, I forgot about the fact she would just be a phone call away. And 10 minutes down the road. I was wise enough to know that when you get married,  you can't just drop everything to go hang out with your best friend, even if it was your sister. But I adjusted to the change, again.

Still, the best of friends.

Wanted to post this picture of my sister, on her wedding day. So beautiful!

 Every aspect of change has pros and cons. The cons are obvious. It's uncomfortable, out of your comfort zone. The pros you don't really see until the change has happened. At least for me, change has always strengthened me. It's made me a better person. If we never had change, life would never evolve, it would just stay right there, in the same rut. And who likes ruts? 

Two years ago, a friend invited me to go to Europe, with her.  I was ecstatic. I was still teaching and knew that if I wanted to go, I couldn't make it on just my teaching salary. I started a little accessories hobby on the side, utilizing my crafty genes, my beautiful mother handed down. After a few months, different boutiques in SF were wanting to carry my work and I soon realized I was consistently making more than my teaching job. I was also working myself to the bone. I decided to take my little accessories gig full time and launch it into a full bona fide business, with the encouragement and support of my family and friends. Here we go. Change, again.

I thought I would be prepared for this change. Wrong. It was like somebody had thrown me overboard into a raging sea storm and told me to swim. I was so overwhelmed, I thought "Charity Brooke, what have you gotten yourself, into?". Whether it's a small business from home or huge corporation, it's tough! Without boring you to tears, I will sum the last two years up in one word. Crazy. I can't count the number of nights I pulled an all nighter, trying to meet deadlines, get orders shipped out. The money I've invested. The sacrifices it's caused and the lost memories with my family and friends. These last two years, I cannot get back. Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for the success my little business has made. It's been adventurous and wonderful, but when you have absolutely no life and you're putting very important things on the back burner, it's just not worth it. The truth is, my parents have encouraged me to take it easy. I've found myself hunkered down in a corner, crying and so overwhelmed, thinking "Oh, God. I'm going to have a nervous breakdown before I'm 30.". Not cool. 

A lot of this, I've brought on myself. I do not know how to say "no". I take on project, after project, after project. It's like a challenge for me. "Ok, Charity. Let's see how many things you can take on. Who cares if you don't get any sleep. You're only young once.". Wrong! Throughout the last two years, my parents have hounded me about going back to school. They weren't necessarily encouraging me to quit my business, but they believed that it's always a good thing to have a "plan B" and let's face it, if the economy gets bad enough, I'm pretty sure the last thing people will be thinking of buying, is a hair accessory, unless it's edible. They've been happy for me, supportive and all that wonderful stuff parents are supposed to be but they hated seeing me so close to the "finish line", so to speak, to waste it. So, I thought since I own my own business and make up my own hours, I have no excuse to not be finishing up my degree in teaching. Last fall, I attempted to go back. The truth is, I didn't attempt very well. I got as far as browsing the school catalog. Then the holidays were upon us and I put it on the back burner, again. This time, my parents were putting on the pressure. Another thing, parents are good at. I'm going to admit to you, they didn't have to put too much pressure, on me. I caved, so easily. The truth is, I was exhausted. I was tired of fighting what I knew was the right thing to do. It was not right for me to work myself to the bone, not finishing a degree and putting every other priority in life, on hold. I had to face this head on. It's time to go back to school, but I had lost my interest in the possibility of a teaching degree. Whoops.

I've always loved writing. I remember in school, my teachers told me I should pursue something in this area. In past college courses, I excelled at giving speeches (imagine that), drama and writing good papers. My sister, out of the clear blue, told me at Christmas, "Charity, you like to be up on current events and writing. I could see you as a reporter.". Hmmm. I hadn't given it much thought, until a few months ago, when I was writing our kids Christmas musical and I realized, I really enjoy writing. Just out of curiosity, I started looking at different fields you could use a journalism major in and was surprised at how large of a field it was. The possibilities were endless. But, I already had all of these education electives done. I'm almost there. I have a lot of experience in teaching and working with kids. A college major switch would just be too much change, even though I've completely lost interest in teaching. Just to see how my family would react, I mentioned this to my mom, who immediately told me, "Charity, I really wish you would just finish your teaching degree. If you took a job as a news reporter or journalist, you could end up in a war zone and die.". So, my dramatic side comes from my mom. Yes, I love children and working with them. But, I work with our kids ministry and if I'm teaching to a classroom full of 20 students, 5 days out of the week, there will be a point when I will be sick of kids.

They say to follow your heart. Do what makes you happy. I sat there, one day, thinking of myself as a teacher again, and the possibility just didn't excite me. It was drab. I then pictured myself using a journalism degree and I knew what I was supposed to do. So, I prayed about it and talked to my parents about the possibility of a major switch. Yes, even at 28 I still wait for my parents "green light". I've learned my lesson on that one, too many times. If there's something I'm good at, it's making a case. I came prepared. I didn't have to prepare too much, because my parents were pretty supportive of the idea, thanks to my dad. He's always encouraged me to write. I officially switched my major and redid my class schedule, that evening. The next day, my dad told me, "Charity, I really think you've made the right choice with this major switch and you're on the right path.". Ok, this was basically like the Lord, telling me. No, my dad is not the Lord, but he talks to Him, often. 

Upon making this decision, I was faced with a little problem. How will I transition my full time business, which keeps me very busy, into a part time business, with my focus being on finishing my degree? This is the next change in my life. I've just decided there will always be change. Big and/or small. I know from previous semesters that attending class is probably the smallest responsibility of attending school. In true Charity fashion, I'm taking a full load. 15 units. In order to achieve something, you must work for it, right? Well, it appears in order for me to get my degree in December, I will have to take on a full load every semester, including summer, this year. With this 15 units, comes homework, projects, study groups, midterms and finals. Again, where does my little business come into play, here?

I'm going back to "the basics". I started Dainty Button as a means to get me to Europe, two years ago, today. In the beginning stages, it was simple. Not too much pressure and the extra cash was nice. I took on what I could, keeping in mind that I still had a teaching job and that was my priority. School will be replacing that old teaching job and Dainty Button will be a means to get me through college, until I graduate in December and pursue a career in Journalism. That sounds so odd but exciting. The awesome thing about going to school, this time around? I have no bills, with the exception of a very small insurance premium and the needed day to day expenses. My little Honda is paid off and I still live at home, rent free. Pretty awesome, right? So, my focus is school. 

This change happening, next week will definitely be a challenge. I've got to manage how I will control incoming sales, when to process these sales, where to fit study time in, homework and when to meet those study groups, as we work on projects, as well as keeping my church responsibilities. All of this, so I'm not overloaded with school, homework and business, while preventing myself from pulling all nighters. This will be a big decrease in salary, for me, as well. I'm nervous. I already have a habit of taking on too much and I'm praying that I can finally learn the power of saying "no". I've gone over my schedule over and over, analyzing every little detail, but in true essence, this is one that I'm going to have to just see what happens when I cross that bridge, next week. I'm expecting the next few weeks of my life to be a little uncomfortable and weird. It's change. But in December, I'm hoping that I can look back on this year and see the benefits of the sacrifices I'm making to better myself and how change can be good for you!

Cheers!

Charity

If you were a booger...And the truth behind other bad pickup lines.

I was the victim of a horrible pickup line, the other night. I didn't even realize it was a pickup line, until later, when I was replaying the entire scenario in my mind. Let me just say this. Bad pickup lines will never get you anywhere. For the most part. I have never met a couple who got married, had 10 kids and lived happily ever after, as the result and recipients of a bad pick up line. I would imagine that if these people exist, they're the same one's that get married at Disneyland. I'm very sorry, if you got married at Disneyland. And that's not an apologetic "I'm sorry" for the comment that I made. It's the fact that you got married at Disneyland.

Back to my earlier statement of "bad pickup lines will never get you anywhere.". Boys, men...please, know that you are being laughed at, after you use a bad pickup line. Sometimes, in your face, which could kind of work in your favor and if you were smart enough (I doubt it), you could play off of the fact that it was a great way to break the ice. I say "boys and men" because unfortunately, this is the species that usually use bad pickup lines. Go figure. I have had one encounter with a bad pickup line. It was...

Boy that liked me: "Are your legs tired?"

Me: "No."

Boy that liked me: "Oh. Because you've been running through my mind, all day."

The truth is, I thought it was cute. Did I also mention, that I was 12? I could easily rest my case and say "goodbye" with that statement. Pickup lines are alive and kicking, today. As mentioned, I was the victim of one the other night. My dad sent me to get coffee for the church office kitchen. 

 FACT: I'm a preacher's daughter. More on that later.

So, my dad sent me on this little errand. He didn't say "Charity, can you go get a can of Folgers?". It was "Charity, can you go to Bed, Bath and Beyond and get those Keirug coffee things for the coffee maker, in the kitchen?". I now know why there's that "beyond" in Bed, Bath and Beyond. I do know what the little Keirug things are. I've watched my entire family and friends use them, so I wasn't nervous about that part. It's the fact that I hate coffee and he told me "Just get what you think will be good.". That's kind of like telling an Atheist to choose a religion they think would be good. No clue or desire. I took the challenge, headed off to the world of coffee and almost cried when I saw what I was up against...

This is only one side. They had every coffee flavor, under the sun. Why is there a need for so many flavors? Why can't coffee lovers just like caffeinated or decaffeinated? It's that simple. Thanks, Starbucks. I worked myself up into quite a fit. I was upset because I didn't know what flavor to get and no clue where decaffeinated was. I wanted to cuss. Yes, I'm a Christian but I'm also human and if any of you followers/readers are Christians and say you've never had that urge, repent. You just lied. I decided to ask someone for help. Superwoman Charity could not do it.

Ok, let's press the "pause" button to discuss my wardrobe. Yes, there is a very good reason for this "pause". It's basically the main point of the horrible pickup line. Oh, you thought this was a post about coffee? No.

I was wearing an outfit that may have resembled something you might find in a horseback riders closet. Cute jean skirt, brown leather riding boots, oxford shirt, cardigan and newsboy hat. Ummm, ok the jean skirt would not be used in riding the horse, but I think you get my point. 

Ok, "play" button. So, this sales guy came up to help. I kindly (ok it was more of a very irritated tone) asked him which would be the best coffee to get. His first reply was, "Starbucks". He should've left it at that. This was apparently not a typical man. And that's when it happened. The horrible pick up line. They should warn you about those things. He then said, "Hey! You could brew you a nice cup and drink it on your horse!". I guess my expression immediately made him regret what he just said. I can't say the same for others. He felt the need to reply with, "You know your outfit and newsboy hat. You look like a preppy horseback rider.". Oh!! Right. Because horseback riders carry cute little mugs of coffee, while they ride. This would've been just a cheesy conversation starter, but he felt the need to say later, as I checked out, "If you need me to hold that cup while you ride your horse, you know where to find me.".  Oh my God. What is wrong with this guy? He needs a muzzle. Seriously. I do believe the girl at the register felt my pain, because she looked at me and rolled her eyes. See? Men, we all think the same thing. Bad pickup lines are a FAIL! 

This entire scenario got me thinking, later discussing this at dinner and the entire table decided to chime in. We started talking, mainly laughing, about bad pickup lines. I went online to these websites that solicit bad pickup lines. I can't post all of them, mainly for the reason that the majority of them would be grounds for any woman to charge a man with sexual harassment. But, a few I found hilarious and I'm praying that nobody seriously ever uses these. If you do, you need to stop. NOW! 

1.Did you fart? Because you just blew me away.

Why in the name of God, would you ask any woman that? 

2. If you were a booger I'd pick you first.

This is just disgusting. 

3. I'm addicted to yes, and I'm allergic to no. So what's it gonna be?

Hope you're stocked up on Claritin.

4. Do you know karate? 'Cause your body is really kickin'.

Sure do. Where should I kick you first?
5. So, you're a girl huh?
No, I'm a man with a great boob job.
6. I can tell by the way you're ignoring me, you want me.
Oh, yeah. Super bad!
7. I am very, very, very lonely and I was wonderin'...
Yes, pets are great companions.
8. What's a slut like you, doing in a classy joint, like this?
Yep, that'll get you married, for sure!
9. You look just like my mother.
Oh, mommy issues, FO SHO!


Ok, here's the deal. Not all pickup lines are bad. I do understand that some men lack the gift of conversation and desperately need help. Some men can easily pull it off and end up with the girl of their dreams. But, I can guarantee they did not use a bad pickup line. A funny pickup line can break the ice, but I hope that was the intention all along. Simply to break the ice. A few pickup lines, that could POSSIBLY (and I emphasize on "POSSIBLY") work for a guy's benefit if he's smart enough to play it off....


Disclaimer: I'm still not a fan of pickup lines.


1. How much does a polar bear weigh? Enough to break the ice. Can I get your number?


2. Give me three good reasons why I shouldn't buy you a drink?


3. I bet you $20 you're going to turn me down.


4. With my luck, you're probably here with someone.


5. Hey! Someone farted. Let's get out of here.






 If you're a man reading this, take it from a woman, we don't like bad pickup lines. And that advise should only be given to a single guy. If you're married and still using pickup lines, we have a problem. No, YOU have the problem. We don't. It's cheesy, tacky and rude. It's kind of like someone who wears a fanny pack. You just shouldn't. Ever. That goes for single and married men. Yes, I'm referring to the fanny pack, on this one. When it comes to trolling out women, use something simple and classy. And I just realized I used the word "trolling" in the same sentence as "simple and classy". Forgive me. Leave the bad pickup lines at home. Matter of fact, just burn them. In my opinion, usually a simple, "Can I get you coffee, sometime?" is a nice way of asking a girl out. It's simple, straight forward and not cheesy. You don't need a pickup line. You just don't. A compliment is completely different than a pickup line. Please, know the difference. 

Also, did I mention that Jesus doesn't like pickup lines.

PS. Feel free to share your experience with bad pickup lines. We could all use a good laugh.

Cheers!

 ~ Charity

Birthday Eve of an "Old Maid"

I woke up this morning, on the eve of my birthday, feeling anxious. And not the good kind, either. I looked around and saw myself sleeping in my twin bed. Granted, it's a very cool bed. A pallet bed, with a vintage door as a headboard (maybe in another post). I looked at the mess my room was. Currently, I have boxes and a suitcase that hasn't quite been unpacked, since my last trip. We won't discuss when that last trip was. It did take place in the last 6 months. The boxes are from our last move and I haven't found the energy to unpack. New Years resolution, maybe? This, I'm sure, doesn't seem like a big deal, but I'm turning 28, tomorrow. Along with taking in my surroundings, as a 28 year old woman, a barrage of thoughts run through my mind....

1. I'm not married. God is punishing me for disobeying my parents during my teenage life and dating all of those corrupt boys. Sorry, to any of my exes that might be reading this blog. My brother is dating this cute little girl and I swear if he gets married before I do, I'll probably just shoot myself. He's 18. 

2. I don't have kids. My friends have kids. Lots of them. My younger sister already has two. One of my friends almost has a teenager. Ok, close enough. She's 9. I think?

3. I don't own my own home. The only thing I own is my Honda.......

Ok, the main worry was the whole "marriage" thing. When you're constantly asked "What's wrong with you?", "Why aren't you married, yet?", "Oh, your sister is younger and she's already married. And with kids? Wow. Why have you waited, so long?". Really? Do you know how stupid you sound, asking someone that? It's rude. But, after awhile, you start to think, "Is there something actually wrong with me?", "Did I skip a step, somewhere?".

And the anxiety built it's way up. This worried me all morning long, while I worked out, ate breakfast, stalked people's Facebook pages, caught up on Twitter, until I finally asked my mom and sister, "Am I an old maid?". Ok, I know I'm not an old maid. I just couldn't think of a better word to use. And, I'm sure if you're reading this, you're thinking "She's only turning 28. You'd think she was turning 50.". And, if you're thinking that, then you are apparently not accustomed to my world and we should meet. I already like you. In my world, they think if you're not married by 18, with a child on the way, you have revolted against tradition. Seriously. I think it's a way for parents to quickly get their children married off, so they don't have a bunch of grandkids out of wedlock, running around. I guess, they'd rather them be unhappily married, fighting nasty divorces a few years down the road, and squabbling over who gets full custody of little Johnny. Just as long as they kept them from fornicating, though. Wow, where did that come from? 

Ok, back to me being an old maid. My mom and sister gave me a very nice pep talk. One, I already knew but I guess just needed to hear. My sister summed it up, nicely, "You could be a very unhappy married woman, right now. Count your blessings. And for the record, you are not an old maid, nothing's wrong with you and you're getting a degree. Stop worrying.". She's my hero. 

In our world, today, it's normal for 28 year old's to be single and on their own. Recent studies have said 30 is the average age to get married. Sadly, in the "world" I live in, you should have a teenager by 30. Ok, maybe a little exaggerated. Seriously, who made up the "old maid" thing? I'd like to meet that person. Although, I'm afraid that was several years ago, which proves my point. We're in the 21st century. 

My sister's comment about being unhappily married, did remind me of decisions I made when I was 19. I almost walked down the aisle at 19. 19? Was I smoking crack? Ok, pretty sure I wasn't.

Quick side note, here: I cringe when I think of a couple under 20, getting married. They're not adults. I don't care if 18 is the "legal age". You are still maturing and doing this with another individual, in the same boat, under the same roof, is a recipe for disaster. 

And for the record, I make no apologies about what I am about to say, if you're reading this and you know me, personally. I quickly thought of what the circumstances might have been if I had made a different decision. And the ironic thing is. I'd still be 28, living at home. But, the circumstances would be different. I wouldn't be a college student, pursuing a degree, having already owned my own business, involved in my church for the past 6 years, etc. I would be a bitter divorced person, possibly with a child, being forced to live with my parents after a very unhappy marriage, picking up the broken pieces, trying to piece my life back together, after that "prince charming" had turned out to be someone, I had mistakenly thought I knew. But, because I made a wise decision almost 10 years ago, the circumstances are quite different. And I don't feel bad, at all. I feel relieved. No, I'm not married. So, what? No, I don't own my own home. Really? I live in one of the most expensive cities in North America. But, I am happy and content. It's taken me 10 years to get it right, where I finally feel like I'm at the right place in life, at the right time. Today has been a day of reflection, upon my life. Looking at the lessons I've learned, the  memories I've made and finding myself, as an adult. That's the best birthday gift, I can give to myself.

It's where you are in life, as an individual, and accepting it, that counts and matters the most.What you consider to be a contended place in life, might not be the same for someone else. Nobody can account for that. Only you. 

If I could stand in front of an audience of teenagers getting ready to face the road called "life", in front of them, I'd shout as loud as I could "GO TO COLLEGE!". If it were an audience of young girls anxiously trying to find that "prince charming", I would encourage them to, wait. Don't rush it. You will appreciate this decision, when you're older. I'm appreciating it, now. Don't let the pressure of your friends and others make you say "yes" to the first guy that comes along. To an audience of young adults, trying to find themselves, make YOU happy and forget about the rest. Because, at the end of the day, you can either find yourself happy, sleeping in a vintage pallet bed, surrounded by boxes that need to be unpacked or in a world you don't even recognize.

And for the record, the vintage pallet bed is super comfy.

So, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to this "old maid"!

Cheers!