The End of an Era

So tonight I learned that the restaurant that I worked at while in seminary, Tony Roma’s, closed down.  While I’m not surprised, I still find myself a little shocked.  After all, amidst all of its dysfunction (and oh there was plenty!), it was a place that holds a lot of memories for me.  I’d love to share a few:

*First, and most importantly, it is where I met my husband.  But funny story that many of you may not know.  When I first met Kris, I didn’t like him all that much!  He got on my last nerve, and seemed to enjoy doing so!  But he eventually wore me down (or as Kris likes to say, I started to realize that being an asshole was a part of his manly charm! ha!), and a friendship slowly developed into dating and well…..

*I remember the day I interviewed.  My friend Matt’s roommate Rudy had mentioned that they were hiring where he worked.  For some odd reason when I moved to KY I was determined to work in a restaurant – I thought it would be fun! ha!  So, I go in to interview with Dena, and she asked how I heard about the job.  I said that Rudy had recommended it to me, since Matt had told me Rudy would get a $50 bonus for bringing in new people.  At that moment, Rudy happened to walk by, hearing his name.  He looked at me, totally confused…we had never even met and there I was, using his name in vain!  Rudy, and his wife Carrie, went on to become good friends of mine – both in the restaurant and at seminary.  I am so grateful for their listening ears all those years!

<—-out with Carrie, Kyle, Ricco and Rudy

*Whenever a beloved server decided to move on, their last night was marked by getting “trashed” – literally.  BBQ sauce, whipped cream, food scraps, soda – nothing was off limits.  When my friend Renee left, she was doused in liquid smoke!  That is a smell that just doesn’t go away after 10 showers!  Another time, I can’t remember who was leaving, but I do remember two of the guys dressing up in full on chicken suits, running in after we had closed, “kidnapping” the guy and taking him outside and throwing him in the lake!  We had odd ways of showing our love.

<— the night I got “trashed”

*Roma’s produced many dear friendships.  Good girlfriends: Stacy – who could always make me laugh; Renee who pulled me out of my social shell and helped me just have fun; Tabby – who always listened and gave the best advice – especially on those loooong Monday mornings!  Good guy friends: Ricco – wo loved to cook for me (or anyone really) and always reminded me that faith was paramount to all; and Kyle – who always beat me at the crossword, and helped open my mind to think in different ways.

<—Stacy and Tabby

*And I can’t go any further without mentioning the one friend who meant so much to me during my four years at Roma’s.  He started off as shy host, and turned in to one of my best friends.  Nate was my roommate for over three years.  Two dogs, two houses, and countless late night conversations on everything from faith to love to traveling solidified our friendship.  We bonded over Friends – and watch the entire series in succession.  We took road trips, teased each other over bad dates, and comforted one another’s broken hearts.  He was the first person to know that Kris and I were dating (literally heard it with a glass pressed up against the wall!) and he stood at our wedding and read a poem.  If my time at Roma’s did nothing else for me – it brought my best friend.

<—- Nate and I at Kyle’s wedding

*On a lighter note – there were of course parties.  Oh what fun we had!  We loved to celebrate pretty much anything.  Birthdays, holidays, a Kentucky win (basketball of course – the football team never won while I lived there!) My favorite party has to be the surprise going away party.  Stacy and Tabby did such a good job acting as a cover.  They took me to Renee and Kristen’s house where I was surprised by about 50 of my closest Roma’s friends – all who had come to bid me adieu before I left for Hong Kong.  It was one of the sweetest, most generous things ever – and I loved every minute of that party!

<— about half the crew at my going away party!

*Its hard to talk about Roma’s without talking about Trumps.  I think it is pretty safe to say that at least 2 staff members from Roma’s were there every night.  I know I accounted for that at least two or three times a week.  It was the place to go after work, especially on the weekends, to have a drink, shoot a game of pool, and just relax and get to know your co-workers better.  The great bartenders there became friends as well – they knew us all by name and drink!  Every time we were there, at some point I’d look over, and there would be Nate, digging through my purse, hunting for quarters for the next game of pool.

*The radio that played in the restaurant was controlled by the managers.  Justin loved Christmas music.  Now, if you know me at all, you know my biggest pet peeve is Christmas music before Thanksgiving.  Grates my nerves.  Justin was the opposite!  He would play Christmas music the week of Halloween – I think just to piss people off! haha!

*On a practical level – working as a server and a bartender helped me through seminary.  Working full time and going to school full-time, then part time, I was able to leave with a Masters degree and no student loans or school debt!  I account that to the many, many, many hours spent in that building!

*Working there also taught me skills that I continue to carry with me in my work now: patience in stressful and busy situations; multi-tasking; being graceful even to those who don’t know how to return the favor; and every shifts ends best with a drink and a bowl of potato soup!

I am incredibly grateful for my four years at Roma’s.  The people and my experiences there shaped me into who I am today.  I accredit a lot to that place.  So raise a glass to a time gone by – to Tony Roma’s.

The Church

I’ve been thinking a lot about big “C” Church lately.   All of my favorite Methodists (okay, notall of them, but quite a few of them!) are in Tampa for General Conference (or GC12 as it is now commonly known on Twitter!) `I’ve been following the blogs and Facebook status updates of those who have gone to act as delegates, volunteers, witnesses and voices for this great thing we call The United Methodist Church.  For those out of the Metho-dork realm, GC12 is a convening of representatives from the majority of conferences of the UMC around the world.  It is during this time, held every four years, that the important decisions of policy, language and structure are decided for the world-wide UMC.   There are a few very important issues that are being discussed, debated and prayed over in this 10-day period.  Issues on the inclusion of the LGTBQ community, restructuring language in our Discipline to be more inclusive and divestment from companies that invest in war and oppression, to name a few.

As I read the posts of David, Mary and others, I long to be there.  I feel this strong urge to go and represent what the Church means to me.  To be a witness to the decisions made on my behalf.  To stand alongside those who have been hurt but are still hopeful for change.  Many of my friends went not as voting members, but simply (or should I say powerfully) as a voice.  A voice for those whose voices have been shut out, an advocate for inclusiveness, a witness to all that we hope for for the Church.  And I think it is incredibly brave.  There are many different voices and opinions at GC12.   And there is a lot happening in the votes this year that will redefine so much for the Church.  But what I am amazed at, is that despite so many differences, so many barriers, there is still a conversation happening.   Mary has been sharing so honestly about her conversations, even the difficult ones.  But her blog this morning made me tear up.  “It is because this place is so often so full of love that I can continue to be a United Methodist. THIS is the Connection! This is the place where we come together.”  And it gives me hope…

I have a friend from seminary, whom I still keep in loose contact with via Facebook.  A friend that, even during our seminary years, I didn’t always agree with.  I have seen posts on his page (as I am sure he has seen on mine) that have often made me wonder, “why are we still FB friends?  We have nothing in common!”   He has been actively following GC12 via Twitter and the official GC newsfeed, and then posting his views and comments on his page.  Many I have not agreed with.  But then….in the midst of a struggle happening in Tampa, a divisive issue coming to light, glaring pain and all, I read this on my friends page, “It doesn’t matter which side of the issue you are on, that type of behavior (speaking of bullying and blatant exclusiveness) is unacceptable.”  And later, “we can continue to hope for fellowship.”   And in that moment, I was so proud to be this man’s friend.  Despite our differences in theology, rhetoric, political stance, etc…..there is something deeper and stronger that connects us.  To be a part of the Church doesn’t mean we all agree all the time.  It means we love unconditionally, work for justice and peace…together.

I see this in my own church, here in Seattle.  We don’t always agree.  We aren’t always on the same page.  We come from different backgrounds, have varying passions and opinions.  But no matter our differences, there is something so common amongst us, that we cannot help but love one another.  There is something so bold, and yet so quiet, that ties us together that even when our words clash and our heads hurt from discussing and conferencing and meeting and listening…even with all that, we continue to stand unified in our love for Christ, for the Church and for one another.

In the words of Pastor Kathleen following every Sunday sermon,

“May it be so.  Amen.”

Belated thoughts on Lent

I find myself entering this very holy season with much excitement.  I know, that is such an odd way to enter a religious season of self-denial, reflection and repentance.  But I am.  I love all the liturgical seasons of the Christian calendar, but Lent has always been one of my favorites.  I love that there is a time within the Church set aside to focus inward.  A time to focus on what in our hearts and heads we can clear out in order to make room for the new.  It is a spiritual sweeping out of those crusty old crevices and preparing for something beautiful.

This year I am a part of a faith community that I absolutely adore.  This churches challenges me in all the right places, and encourages me when I need it most.  There have been few times in my life when I have felt so at home in a church.

The congregation is breaking into small groups this year that will meet once a week, and as a community read “A Clearing Season.”  I am excited to share in this time of reflection with others.  I am happy to bring others along on my journey though Lent.  Because as deeply personal as this time can be, it can also be incredibly meaningful to bring others along with you.

Wednesday night I sat in candle-lit chapel, singing and praying with friends and strangers.  I knelt at the front and felt the ashes that I myself had burned only hours before, gently placed on my forehead in the loose shape of a cross.  I prayed about all that I would give up this season, and all that I hoped to gain.  As we sang our final prayer that evening I thought, “How beautiful and wonderful to have a place and time set aside clear my head and soul and make way for the joy of Easter.”

How beautiful indeed.

Resolutions

I have my own personal resolutions for the New Year, that I may or may not share on here.  But I have some Blog Resolutions for 2011.  So here they are:

*To post more often. But to not feel guilty when I don’t.

*To share recipes.  I have started cooking more, and been branching out to Asian foods.  I’ve made a couple of delicious curry dishes lately.  So I want to start sharing more and gathering more recipes.  So feel free to share your favorites!

*To take and post more pictures.  I live in an unbelievably beautiful city.  I mean, it is stunningly beautiful.  I should show off a little more.

*To talk more about books.  I read.  A lot.  But I don’t always talk about what I’m reading.  So I am going to start posting about the books I read.  I have a goal this year to read 26 books.  That may seem like a random number, but it is 5 more books that last year, so I figure it is a good, achievable goal to work towards.  I am on Goodreads,  and they have this new thing on their site called Goal Setter, where you can type in the number of books you want to read, and every time you finish a new book, it tells you how far you are towards your goal.  I like seeing progress.  I am 15% closer to this year’s goal, having completed 4 books already this year.  Though, to be fair, one of them was The World According to Mister Rogers – so that was a pretty easy read!

So, there are my 2011 Blog Resolutions.  Help me hold to them!

‘Tis the season to hear about Lent.  What people are giving up this Lent.  It becomes a common question, and an easy alibi. 

I realized yesterday why it is that we have Lenten Commitments.  Maybe not the theological reason, but why it is that we commit to giving something up for 40 days.    It’s to discover what we depend on, but shouldn’t; and what we don’t depend on, but should.   When I take a really good, strong look into my life, and what I depend on,  I’m shocked.  Of course I depend on my family and friends, but surely God wouldn’t want me to give them up for 40 days!?  Beyond relationships, what vice do I have that I lean on when days are tough?

I’m not afraid to tell you what I gave up for Lent.  I know the whole “pray in secret” logic, but I will be honest: it would be a lot harder for me to be faithful to this commitment if I didn’t put it all out there.  I’m depending on accountability here!  Because this Lenten season, I have given up chocolate.

I’m not giving up chocolate because I need the diet, but because chocolate is my go-to.  It is my pick me up.  I’m dependant on chocolate, and that is no good.  You would be shocked by how much chocolate is in my home.  And in my office.  And at the day center where I work.  And at every.single.meeting I attend!  It is common in every dessert.  It has become almost comical to notice how much chocolate is around me.  When I’m craving that mid-morning, or mid-afternoon snack, there is nothing to reach for at the day center this isn’t chocolate or a donut! (which I gave up as my New Year’s Resolution!)

So on days like yesterday, when I was seething, and just wanted to pull my hair out; or the night before, when I was worried and frantic, it’s a good thing I had to learn (again) how to depend on something other than chocolate.  Had I not made the very public commitment to give up chocolate, I would have indulged myself yesterday as a form of making myself feel better.  But with the loyalty to that commitment hanging over my head, it helped me to realize what chocolate really is for me.  It isn’t just a delightful little snack.  It is more than I need or even want it to be. 

So this Lenten season, I vow to not only give up my dependency on chocolate, but resolve to try to shift that dependency back to where it should be in the first place.  In myself, and in my God.

The difference in a year

December 10th.

Three years ago today, I was living in Kentucky.  I was a bartending seminarian.  We were all anxiously waiting for the miraculous arrival of Mr. Asher Paul.   I was in the beginning of a relationship that would eventually become THE relationship.  I was anticipating graduation, enjoying snow and had a house full of dogs.

Two years ago today I was in Indonesia.   It was a three week whirl-wind trip full of spicy food, bad air and incredible learning experiences.  I was able to attend a UN Conference on Climate Change.  I marched with indigenous peoples from all over Indonesia.  A few weeks earlier I had attended a traditional Indonesian wedding, and spent time with the families of migrant workers.

One year ago today I was in Hong Kong.  It was my final day in Hong Kong.  I cannot begin to express what all I gained from my time there.  I spent 15 months trying to blog about it, only to feel that I failed miserably at accurately conveying how meaningful and impressive every moment and individual was.

One year ago today I was in transition.  Leaving my apartment before dawn, (and subsequently breaking my toe!), and ending the day in Japan.

One day.  Over the span of three years.  From Kentucky, to Indonesia, to Hong Kong, to Japan, to Seattle.

Last night my dad called.  He asked what I was doing, and I said eating dinner.  “Anyone with you?” he asked.  “Of course not,” I replied.  “I lead a pretty boring life.”

I think I need to retract that statement.  My how time flies when you’re having fun; traveling the world; discovering what it means (and what it doesn’t mean) to be a missionary; watching friends get married and expand their families; falling in love; meeting new friends; saying goodbye to new and old friends; learning about migrant rights and issues surrounding homelessness…..

How time flies

I met Mari not too long after I had started working at Mary’s Place in February.  She came to services on Saturday, and dropped by occasionally during the week.   While not currently homeless, she had been in the past and is still extremely low income.  She’s a sweet lady, quiet, thoughtful.  She is proud of her Native-roots and kind to everyone she meets.  People who know Mari, love Mari.

Not long after I met her, Mari found out she was pregnant.  She had a spirit of quiet excitement.  “This is my last one.  I knew how many children I always wanted, and this little one will finish me off.”   Everyone was so excited for her.  Maryanne, another church-goer, made her a baby blanket.  Another lady brought a sweet little outfit and hoodie for the baby.  There were gifts of diapers, hats and love.  At the beginning of the summer, she informed us it was going to be a boy! Everyone had an opinion for naming the baby.  Mari would just smile, “We have his name picked out.”

Three weeks ago, Mari came into church for the first time in a month.  With her, little baby Sage.  He was bundled up in one of the blankets that just a few months before had been a gift.  Everyone ohhed and awwed at the sweet little baby.  A tiny miracle.  There is nothing like an itty bitty baby to reduce a room full of hardened, weary women into a cooing mess.

It is amazing to me that I have been here long enough to see a non-pregnant woman become a mother.  These last ten months have just flown by.  It is sad to think that there is only 6 months left in this program.  It has truly been a life-changing experience.  I have able to travel the world, work in grassroots organizations, learn about issues in migration and homelessness.  I am a different person than I was 2 1/2 years ago.  A better person, I think.  These last ten months, I have become wholly invested in the work of Mary’s Place and the Church of Mary Magdalene.  So much so that I am not leaving Seattle after my Mission Intern program is finished in the Spring.  I am hoping to stay on with Mary’s Place, but even if that is not possible, I want to stay in this community.  I feel at home here.  I feel a sense of peace in staying that I haven’t felt in a long time.  It feels good to be here, invested, learning, stretching.

One Year Ago

My toenail fell off today.  I was putting on my shoes this morning, and looked down, and there it was, hanging half off.  Since I was running late for work this morning (what’s new), I put a band aid on it and headed off to work.  Band aids fix everything, right?  When I got home, I took a good look at it, and sure enough, it was ready to come off.  Finally.  I mean, it has only been, what?  Ten months?  Remember that? Ten months ago, at the butt-crack before dawn, I was pulling 15 months worth of luggage off the elevator and directly into my toe.  I spent my time in Japan and California limping around with a broken toe.  I assumed the toenail would fall off, but it never did.  Until today.  Let the healing begin.

Taking care of that toenail was an odd bit of final closure to my time overseas.  It is the final, tangible bit of Asia that was left on me.  I used to be able to look down at my foot, see that disgusting, bloodied toe, and laugh thinking about hobbling around Japan.  It would remind me of that drasted elevator in my apartment building.

As much as I love my life in Seattle, I miss my life in Hong Kong.  A lot actually.  More than I thought I would.  I could not be happier with where I am right now – where I work, preparing for Kris to move to Seattle, getting married….my life is very very good.  But I miss my friends in Hong Kong.  My sweet little church.  The wonderful ladies of Bethune House and The Mission.  I miss the food.  Good Lord I miss the food!!   The adventure of living and surviving overseas was a good fit for me.  It is something I still crave – that sense of adventure.  Of learning to navigate around in a foreign language.

I think back to where I was a year ago today.  I look back on my blog, and this is where I was.  Amazing what can change in a year.  I will always look back on my time in Asia as more than just an experience.  It really was shaping for me.  Who I am today is due in part because of all that I learned in my 15 months in Asia.  Those journeys, those experiences, the stories, the faces – they will never leave me.  My work and my focus may have shifted, but my love for the people, my desire to help in the struggle, the desire to stand alongside those fighting for justice and equality – that will never fade.

All this, from a toe nail.  Funny what makes us remember, huh?

Cooking with Liz

Last night was another cooking success! I tend to go to the Farmer’s Market on Fridays and just pick up things that look yummy, without any clear plan of what I’ll use them for. Last week, I bought a 1/2 pound of organic, extra lean, grass-fed beef. I used half of it in my spaghetti sauce, boring, but tasty. For the other half, I decided go Greek.

I made flat patties stuffed with onions and goat cheese. Then I pan fried them in olive oil and sauteed onions. Served on a bed of fresh spring greens (also from the Farmer’s Market) with toasted pita, fresh bell pepper strips and hummus. Garnished with paprika. SO tasty! I think I’m getting a hang of this cooking thing.

Its what everyone is talking about…

Okay, maybe not everyone.  But it is going around the blog world, and I’m paying attention.  I’m following your success stories and tips of the trade.

When I was in college, I read a book that changed the way I ate.  Prior to the book, I had been an emotional eater, a joyful eater, a bored eater…basically, I loved food, namely junk food.  That coupled with a family who also loves to eat, and let’s just say that entering college, I wasn’t at my best weight.  And the freshman ## didn’t help either.  But I read this book that talked about novel things like, eating only when you are hungry.  And stopping when you are full.  And listening to what your body is asking for, instead of stuffing it with oreos (guilty!).  I found that when I started applying those seemingly simple principles to my own eating habits, I started losing weight.  That was not the original intention, but a very welcomed by-product.  And through the final years of college, I was able to maintain a figure I was happy with.  I decided that part of being happy with the way that I looked, was to not look at the numbers.  So I simply stopped weighing myself.  I wanted to be happy with how I felt and looked, not what I weighed.  It was a system that worked for me, and for 6 years I did not weight myself. When I had doctor’s appointments, I closed my eyes on the scale, and the doctor was always kind enough to put a sticky tab over the weight section on my charts.

In seminary, I added the other component – working out.  I found three girls from work that were willing to be my “work-out buddies.”  Four mornings a week, we were at the gym.  And I will tell you what: nothing will get a girl in shape faster than working out with a naturally sized 2 friend.  I was motivated and dedicated to my gym schedule, and to meeting my girls every morning.  I was running a few days a week as well.  A great release after a long day at school and stressful night at work.  And believe you me, I looked good.  Never in my life have I been that skinny, that in shape.  I had a flat tummy, and the confidence to wear a (gasp) bikini.

And then, well, I’m not really sure what happened.  I like to tease that I started dating Kris, and he spoiled me too often by cooking elaborate dinners and brought me too many slices of cheesecake.    But to be honest, my bad habits can’t be blamed on him.  I am just INCREDIBLY lucky that I have found a man who loves me, no matter my pant size.  Because over the last 3 years, I have gone from the girl who worked out all the time and was incredible shape to…not being that girl.  And it is frustrating.

I don’t like where I am right now, weight wise.  I don’t feel comfortable with myself, and that isn’t a good feeling.   Over the last few months, I have tried all the crash diets, acquired the “Better Assets” dvds, kept an exercise and weight gain/loss log.  Yet, in the last 7 months, I’ve remained in the save 5 pound range.

So this is my public push.  I know what I need.  I need accountability.  I need those work-out girls that are going to push me in the morning.  I need the routine.  I need the motivation.  Like Laura said, if I want to be health later in life, it has to start now.

So I’m starting now.  Five pounds at a time.  No major goals.  Other than to be healthy and confidant again.  To be in shape.  I’ve been working on changing my eating habits – snacking is my downfall.  And getting out of my lazy habits and getting active again.  I have gotten a bike, and plan to bike at least 3 days a week.  I am starting a bellydancercize class in two weeks.  I am going to do this.  For my health.  And the idea of fitting into a rockin’ wedding dress in June doesn’t hurt either.