They can't be serious. Are they serious?

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Princesses Eugenie and Beatrice at the Royal Wedding.

Sweet Home Alabama

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My entire extended family lives in Alabama, Georgia, Tennessee, and Kentucky; all of which are in a state of emergency today because of these storms. My grandparents had to spend the night in my uncle's basement. I'm so glad they're all safe, but 200 other people (likely those with less resources for safe housing) are confirmed dead since last night. No one knows how many homes and businesses were destroyed, and there must be thousands left jobless. This is terrible.

#meetthetabs

Last weekend was a doozie: I got to meet Tim's family for the first time when they arrived for their visit to Chicago from France.
Now, I've done this before a few times with other guys that I've dated, and I've never been worried about it at all.
But the Tabs...well, there's more of them than in most families (Tim is the 2nd oldest of seven children).
And they came from farther away.
And if the first meeting bombed there wouldn't be much opportunity for a do-over since they're going back to France soon.
And most of our interactions would happen in a language I haven't practiced much in the last twelve years.
And these people are quality, I tell you. Cream of the crop.
Just look at them! Standing in front yard there--which overlooks the Chartreuse mountain range in southern France, by the way--silver crowns of wisdom adorning the parents' heads...dark, handsome features on the sons...daughters confidant in their natural beauty...and don't even get me started on that hunk of burning love all the way on the right...
I was really nervous.

But I could have saved my nerves because it was a wonderful visit. I received 8 hugs when I first met them. The girls were all: "FINALLY! We get to meet you!" and the guys were all "So glad you're here" and the parents were all "We're really glad to know you, Bethany."
And then we spent the weekend sitting around dinner tables for hours, going on road-trips together, and listening to Papa Tab preach an Easter service. I got to have really good conversations with every single member of the family, and that was a huge blessing.
I'm a huge fan of them. They're a party.

"the things you do for a cruise..."

So, I should let you all know that this girl right here is headed out on a cruise this summer. The Boatwright parents announced at Christmas that they were giving the family tickets to a 7-day trip to Cancun, the Cayman Islands, Beliz, and some other places I can’t remember right now. Thanks Mom and Dad! So excited!

Anyhow, Tim was freshly in the picture and so immediately I was all like “Can I bring my boyfriend too!?”. They said yes.

It only took me a couple of months to put together this equation:

If (Tim = photographer) and (Cruise = me in a bathing suit), then (Cruise = pictures of me in a bathing suit)...possibly shared with the world via this cursed interwebbery. For all you girlfriends of mine whom I’ve heard mumble about how lucky I am to have my own personal photographer always snapping my portrait, take note. It’s all fun and games until there’s a bathing suit involved.

The shock and awe of what was coming made my eyes grow to the size of coke bottles and put me in a nervous sweat. I started cursing society for making it socially acceptable to have girls wear next to nothing anytime they’re within 30 feet of a body of water and call it “normal”. I also exhaled a few expletives and devised a plan.

A major diet plan. I dwindled my normal-person groceries down to nothing and then started with serious resolve. I ate nothing but steamed tilapia, asparagus, apples, grilled chicken, cucumbers, fat free cottage cheese and spinach for ten days. Ten days I held strong! Through cookie decorating for Easter, through two birthday parties, through dinner with friends where cheeseburgers were to my left and fragrant tacos were to my right. Through bagel Friday at work. Through it all I held strong. My roommate even offered me chocolate truffles and I held strong.

I did lose weight, it’s true. I fit into my super skinny jeans again and relished waking up every morning to see how much I lost overnight. It was getting ridiculous when yesterday I hit a figurative brick wall so hard I scraped my figurative face on it. I woke up and the scale said the same thing it had for the last three days. I got to work, tired and hungry, and sat at my desk while my co-workers made a Starbucks run. After that, everyone was talking too loud, breathing too loud. The stress of packing up my house to move overloaded my mind. I took a break for lunch and begrudgingly spooned fat free cottage cheese into my mouth and chewed on some passé strawberries. Still hungry, I came back to my desk and tried to work.

An hour later, I was still miserable and only getting more frustrated. The office was cold and I wasn’t regulating my own temperature well enough, so I resorted to tucking a blanket around my lap after going back to the fridge for more cottage cheese.

I suddenly heard laughter, looked up, and saw Marlene and Heather giggling behind an iPhone that was pointed at me. I looked down and realized what I had become: a freezing, irritated, hungry, carbohydrate-deprived girl who was obsessing over every ounce of fat I ingested. This was a problem. Plus, I looked ridiculous scraping the last bit of fat free cottage cheese out of the container while sitting under a blanket in public. Want to see? I'll humor you.

You're welcome. 
So I went home and ate a steak for dinner. Then I went out for coffee and added some cream and sugar to my cup and felt like a normal person again.

And now I’m going to dinner with my friends and I’m going to eat like I’m celebrating balance, because I am.

When I told Tim about all this, his response was the title of this post.

Chick-fil-anguage

Tim: "Thanks, babe."
Me: "My pleasure."
Tim: "I think it's hot when you speak Chick-fil-A to me."

Thrifted

You guys, I scored a vintage gem today. I've been looking for something special to help out my life for a while and I finally found it. I'll be hauling most of my stuff into storage next week, moving out of the Lydia house, and living out of a suitcase while sleeping on an air mattress at a friend's house for the next couple of months. Transitional adventure? Yes please. I like the sound of it, minus the suitcase part. I need something bigger and prettier than a suitcase to hold my clothes and picture frames for a while. I've been looking for a nice big old trunk and I finally found her today.

In't she a beaut?

Sometimes, when you're antiquing, you find things that are pretty and functional and helpful and classy.
Other times, you find things so hideous and unexplainable that you just have to try them on, take lots of low grade cell phone pictures, and blog about them just to exclaim to the world that they were once intended to be taken seriously.
Are you ready?
Ok.
I would like you all to meet the Madonna.

She seems innocent enough at first, right? Madonna always does. Don't be fooled. Look closer at the details.

  White leather with embroidery and lace, you guys. Including a zip-up front closure. There's just no excuse for that. 

This dress screams 1980's Women's Lib. It breaks every rule. Too hot to be worn before Labor Day, and too white to be worn after. It's the anti-wedding dress, because who needs a man to be able to wear a white dress if she wants to? I should also point out that the shoulder pads were still present to make this number intimidate any glass-ceiling supporter. 

It was hard to walk away from this treasure, but Madonna went right back on the rack after I had my dress-up fun. I'm sure she'll make someone very happy someday.

Regarding the slow fade-out

I am writing this blog post in order to out myself.

Last week I was riding in a car with my dear old friend Sean. He's been a good friend to me since I moved to Kansas City four and a half years ago. Sean asked about my near future plans, and I reluctantly told him about getting ready to leave Kansas City. I don't like to talk about these things because it puts the spotlight of the conversation on me, my decisions, and how the other person chooses to react to news that I am leaving their life.

Sean's response to me was, "Ok. How do you want to be celebrated before you go?"
That question made me feel like a naked person in a crowded room.

I have moved many, many times. I am good at it. I love the thrill and challenge of being in a new place.
My tried and true method of leaving one place for another is to either go so fast that I don't have time to say goodbye to many people, or perform the trusty move that I like to call the "slow fade out".

The slow fade out is when I know that a change is coming a long way in advance, and I begin to taper off on all my relationships early. The theory here is that by the time I leave, my friends won't even miss me. My exit was so silky smooth that they've already filled in the gap of me with some other friend, activity, or interest. I really like the slow fade out. No one gets sad.  I don't feel guilty for leaving.  I don't think of sweet memories of time spent together that are now over and can't be re-lived.  I just drive down the highway and cry mute tears that no one will know about and will surely bother none.

I tell you, it's not even a conscious decision, but I've been avoiding people. I've been busy. The weather is too bad to drive to meet you. Sorry, I'm out of town. I have to write a paper. I'm on the phone.  Money is kind of tight right now, so no, I'd rather not go out to dinner. I'm too tired. That's the slow fade-out. Friends stop asking, to give me space, and before they know it I'll be gone.

Sean didn't really like this plan. He told me I couldn't do it, actually.
This all comes down to something at the root of me; I hate disappointing others. At all costs I will strive to never knowingly make anyone sad or uncomfortable.  I know that my Kansas City community loves me, and I don't want to bother them by leaving.  Let's all just pretend I'm staying until I'm gone.

Hopefully there will be a part II to this blog where I can report back that I conquered the slow fade-out and chose to truly feel what I am losing in Kansas City, but I need all of you to first know that this little mischief is what I've been up to thus far. It's not too late to nip it in the bud, though. I'm not leaving for another couple of months.

And right now two of my best friends are having a birthday party, and I need to go love on them. Keep me accountable to being a good friend to you. I'm not gone yet.

#attheoffice

Heather, Marlene, me, and Aril

...having a great time at work every day

terribly wonderful

My sister and I had interesting days today.
She reported on the memorial service of a fallen police officer in Chattanooga. His wife stood up in front of news cameras and, in her mourning, said that she would trust God and not lean on her own understanding.
I watched a little trouper take 21 stitches to the forearm. It took almost an hour for the doctor to sew him up. His mom cried and his dad, knowing him better than anyone, kept making him laugh despite the pain. Kids amaze me. Parents do too.
I wish we could all live in a world where our bodies don't break and bleed...and I think it was really sweet of God to prepare such a place for us to go when we're done here. Today I remembered again how undeniable it is that He put a little bit of Himself into each one of us so that we can handle crises we were never intended to endure.
Megan and I both cried over witnessing these events today. I think that if your job doesn't move you deep in your heart, you should at least get a hobby that does. Please. The world needs you at your most passionate.