Sorry, I'm Not Home Right Now...

The other day, I walked through a spider web as I left my house and headed to my car. I dropped my purse and started flailing my arms around and squealing; there's just no way you can attempt to free yourself from the grips of a virtually invisible web of death while keeping your grace and dignity intact. And it wasn't a peaceful, beautiful web inviting you in to admire the sparkling dew drops it caught that morning. No. It was sinister, formidable...it attacked me.

The worst part was that I couldn't find the spider afterward. I hope it didn't end up in my hair. Or my car. Or my purse. Hopefully it's not in my room now...making a web above my bed...

Oh, I hate spiders...

Ti penso ogni giorno

The allure of Italy is holding my heart captive. As the date of my summer trip fast approaches, I daily find myself dreaming about and preparing for my vacation. I've noticed that when I have something like a trip to look forward to, everyday stuff seems a little more bearable in the meantime. Yesterday, for instance, I had crazy back pain, had to get my blood drawn, and capped my day with a four-hour history class. But you know what? “It’s cool…I’m going to Italy!” That heightened sense of anticipation makes Life so much more enjoyable.

I love thinking about what to pack and wear. I love making lists (first in my head, and then typed out) and buying cute little travel-sized items of things I really don’t need. I dream about all the paintings I’m going to cry over and the statues I’ll say hello to, the ancient walls of buildings I’m going to touch, and the dirt in the Coliseum and the Forum that I’m going to rub between my hands. I think about the weather—are the morning hours going to be cool as we sip our daily cappuccinos? Is the day’s heat going to linger into the dark evenings as we stroll through the ancient stone streets? What are all the interesting things I’m going to see and ridiculous things I will laugh at and delicious things I will eat and strange scents I will smell? No matter what I’ve planned, how much I research, or what kind of lists or itineraries I make…I’ll just have to experience Italy’s mystery, variety, newness, history, and amore when I get there.

June 20th…please come soon.

But not too soon. Dreaming is fun, too…

Do Your Homework!

Watson's Drugstore

Check out my latest article in the April issue of The O.C. Gazette, about the history of Watson’s Drugstore and Soda Fountain in Orange. Research for this assignment included lunch with a girlfriend at the counter, noshing on fries and burgers and sharing an Oreo milkshake. Such hard work...

I love the atmosphere of this place. It's such an escape. If you have not been to Watson's, you have not fully actualized life. It’s so fun and delicious.

For all things awesome in Orange County, check out The O.C. Gazette.

God Loves Lady Gaga

A week ago, I saw Lady Gaga in concert with some of my best girlfriends. We got all dressed up in wigs and glitter and were excited for a fun night at the Staples Center in L.A. The show was amazing--Lady Gaga is quite an entertainer. She's extremely talented (in my opinion) and the production was incredible. But it wasn't the yummy dinner or the show or the awesome fake eyelashes or even my wonderful friends that I liked most about the night. I liked that the show, that Lady Gaga, got me thinking...

This concert was a worship experience. The power that music has to move you and create an intense emotional experience is undeniable. That's why music is such a powerful way that Christians connect with the heart of God. I noticed a similar connection at this concert. Lady Gaga said things from the stage like, "Jesus loves everyone," "love yourself," "be who you are," and "you were born this way." And many of her fans just drank up her words and used them to validate their identities and lifestyles. Fans dressed up exactly like her--they wanted to be her. "Paws up!" she would demand, and hands went up...the crowd did whatever she told them.

The interesting thing is that many of the things she said were true...almost. Yeah, be yourself, but how do you know who you are if you don't know who your creator is? Yes, Jesus loves everyone and accepts everyone, but he does not approve of everything that we do. Lady Gaga's message seemed innocent enough, but the danger under the sequined, interesting package that it's wrapped in is that it's more confusing than it is clear. And to talk about Jesus while you're covered in fake blood, dropping eff bombs, and gyrating with your backup dancers is creating a context that, no matter what you say, mocks him.

During the show (which, again, I did enjoy), I asked God to help me sort out my thoughts on things. And I don't know if this next thought came from him, or from me, but right after asking that, the next thought that popped into my head was "God loves her."

God loves Lady Gaga. He sent his son, Jesus Christ, to die for her sins. Mocking Christ is her way of dealing with pain in her life that she doesn't know what to do with. We make fun of the things that we're secretly uncomfortale with, after all; mocking is a way of coping. I haven't done any research on this woman, but I am convinced that she is afraid of, or has been hurt by, the church or something/someone associated with it. People are afraid of her weird antics, frightening costumes, and bloody performances, but I think calling her demon-possessed or the anti-Christ (yep, I've heard these things) is giving her too much credit! Really, I think they are afraid of the affluence and influence that she has that allow her to proclaim her messages of distorted truth. It's her platform of power that they're afraid of. If we looked a little closer, I think we would see a misguided and misled girl trying to make a difference in this world in a way that she knows how, and trying to feel significant and loved. She's a wounded, lost little 25-year-old girl. And weren't we all lost at one point? Isn't that why we all need the grace and wisdom and hope of Christ?

God loves Lady Gaga...his heart breaks for her. And it sounds weird to say, but mine kind of does, too.

Last Night

Last night, I spent the evening in an old pub nestled deep in the Irish countryside, well off the beaten path. There was a biting wind that was howling outside and seeping into the cracks of the old building. Inside, the coal-burning stove gave the room a welcoming glow and provided just enough heat. In front of it was an old rug so worn that its pattern was unrecognizable, and a chair with tattered upholstery. The stools and chairs in the pub were all mismatched. The bar itself was covered in knick-knacks and had an old broken TV. You could tell the walls housed a lot of memories and conversations and had seen a lot of laughter, definitely some brawls, and maybe some tears, too.

Last night, I spent the evening with four Irishmen and an Irishwoman—Jack, Brendan, Jim, Finbar, and Valerie. Brendan, the bartender, was quiet but polite, and a good listener. Jack, a mechanic, was downing pints impressively fast, and although he seemed jovial enough, I wouldn’t want to cross him. Jim was the most quiet of everyone, but as the night progressed, he opened up a bit. Finbar, in a white suit and pink dress shirt, stood apart from his simply-clothed friends, and his slickness made him a little more suspect than the rest of the lot. And Valerie…Valerie was a plainly pretty woman who just moved from Dublin to rent a house in the country, and the men took it upon themselves to put on airs and impress her with their ales and anecdotes.

Last night, profanity and fantastical ghost stories flowed freely, and as the evening went on, the men’s tales grew more exaggerated…and scary. Ireland is renowned for its ghost tales and folklore, and these men, like any respectable Irishmen, knew how to tell a story (the alcohol undoubtedly encouraged and inspired their dramatics). With their stories about fairies, ghosts, and unexplainable happenings, they each tried to top each other's tales, entertaining and frightening each other. I questioned their superstitions and honesty, not knowing what to believe. But it was quiet, unassuming Valerie, whose story about why she really left Dublin--a true ghost story--ended the unsettling evening and allowed the men to let their guard down.

Last night, I saw a play called The Weir at South Coast Repertory, and felt like I was in a pub experiencing an evening with real people. Never once did I not feel like I was really there with them, in the dark Irish countryside. And never did I fully believe any of their drunken ghost stories…until the end of the play.

The Weir runs through April 3rd. Get your tickets here, if you dare...

Yummy Treats

My sweet tooth is the bane of my existence. Never is my self-control at its lowest than when I’m confronted with a box of Tagalongs (or whatever they’re called these days), taunted by a dessert menu that a server nonchalantly stands up on the table with the check, or seduced by the aroma of fresh-baked anything. It’s undeniable…I love dessert.

And these days I can’t seem to escape them! Here’s a rundown of some recent treats that I’ve been, uh, researching for blog purposes…

Casey’s Cupcakes

For those of you who watched MTV’s Laguna Beach (don’t be ashamed…there’s no judgment here), you might remember Casey Reinhardt from season two, a.k.a. “the new girl.” Well, the ever-ambitious Casey has recently opened up her own cupcake shop in Laguna Beach. But don’t let the overly decorated cakes, pink receipt paper, and cute bows in the employees’ hair woo you—these cupcakes are good (because, like, they’re cupcakes), but they’re not delicious. And if you’re paying $3.50 for a cupcake, it’s got to be delicious. Am I right? Stick with Sprinkles. I want the best for you.

Starbucks’ Petite Treats

To celebrate their 40th anniversary, Starbucks recently introduced a smattering of bite-size treats, including mini-cupcakes (delicious), cake pops (love!), lemon bars (boring), and other tiny treats, all under 200 calories and $1.50 each. The fact that this stuff is so stinkin cute and easy on the waistline and wallet make them very enjoyable. I mean…pink frosted cake on a lollipop stick? I love everything about these new diminutive delights.

Le Napoleon Patisserie

This little French café at the Irvine Spectrum is outrageously overpriced, so sometimes I just walk in and stare at the pretty rows of macaroons and don’t buy anything (I told this to my boyfriend, and he said that was the saddest thing he’s ever heard and reminded him of A Little Princess. Haha.). Anyway, the focus here is on the macaroons. They are incredible. They are the prettiest bright colors and perfect delicate texture. My favorite flavors are earl grey, rose, and passion fruit. Eating a rose macaroon is like eating the most perfect, delicious flower your mind could ever imagine. Their $1.95 price tag encourages you to eat them slowly and savor every crumb. I really do feel like a little princess when I eat these…they are so frivolous and French and fancy.

“And it melts, God forgive me, it melts ever so slowly on your tongue, and tortures you with pleasure.” --Yvette from Chocolat

Now..make good dessert choices, and happy researching…

Lisa Birle's Day Off

"The question isn't 'What are we going to do?' The question is 'What aren't we going to do?'"

Today, I had a much-needed day off. Here's what I did:

Hit the Chicago Stock Exchange
Made it to the Skydeck of the Sears Tower
Hung out at the Art Institute
Caught a fly ball at a Cubs game at Wrigley Field (I heard it was televised!)
Sang on a float in the Von Steuben parade

Oh, wait...wrong person. Sorry. Here's what I really did today:

Watched some Academy Award fashion-related news on E!
Finished writing an article
Went to Starbucks and read The Hunger Games
Cleaned my bathroom
Straightened up my room
Put away dishes
Folded clothes
Went through mail
Washed my hair
Took a quiz online about Catholic Reform for school
Did reading and homework for school

Nothing adventurous or exciting or extraordinary. I didn't put on makeup and wore pajamas most of the day. I woke up without an alarm clock and did everything slowly and without any sense of urgency. And I feel amazing--rested and refreshed and ready for the week. I've recently mentioned how I've been struggling with time management and feeling stressed lately. Sometimes I feel so busy that having time to do this kind of stuff feels like a complete luxury.

It's so nice to have time to catch up on the lame stuff sometimes. It helps me enjoy Life a litle bit more, to breathe a little bit easier.

Life moves pretty fast, you know, and if you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it...

Painted Lady

Today I got a spray tan. I know...who am I?

Let me explain: My pasty German-Irish skin cooks in the sun like bacon fat in a frying pan. Because of this, I eschew sunlight like a Twilight vampire and have the pallor of a corpse.

I'll also be a bridesmaid for the first time on Friday--which means a LOT of photos. Blonde hair...black dress...and the complexion of a ghost? I don't think so. And since I'm psychologically incapable of being okay with exposing my skin to UV rays in a coffin-shaped tanning bed, a spray tan was really my only option.

The "tanning" process was a bit intimidating. I went to the salon where I get my hair done and was led to the secret back room (!!!) with the hidden shower. I'm not going to lie...it was dark and weird in the small room, which didn't create a super ambiance for the twenty-minute process of being sprayed down with COLD, wet, smelly bronzer.

But...creepy shower and awkward process aside, it's worth it. You probably won't even be able to notice that I got a spray tan. I don't resemble any electric orange people from the Jersey Shore or anything. I just look...normal. Healthy. Nice.

So bring on the wedding photographers. I'm ready for my close-up!

Stressed < Loved

I've recently been reminded of how poorly my mind and body handle stress.

I'm a very busy Lisa Bee: I work full-time, go to seminary, try to work out a few times a week (major FAIL), and do some writing on the side. I'm struggling balancing my time between church, relationships, responsibilities, and down time. Unfortunately, I haven't been very good at time management lately; I find myself wishing I could wash my hair more often and read Entertainment Weekly, like, weekly.

I’m pretty sure my tolerance for stress is lower than the average bear’s. Outwardly, I generally don’t convey a high-strung demeanor or uptight tendencies, but I am easily overwhelmed by busyness, deadlines, confusion, and strife. Last week, I let the stress take over. I lost my appetite (the bulk of my food intake was a Girl Scout cookie here and there. Yeah, yeah, I know…don’t yell at me). Exhausted each night, I’d try falling asleep but would toss and turn into the morning, waking up a couple of hours later, starting each tomorrow more exhausted than its yesterday. Overwhelmed, my nerves sometimes caused my body to tremble uncontrollably. A heavy, hot ball of panic churned in the pit of my stomach. The dearth of sleep, peace, and nutrition helped me catch a head cold, too, so that was awesome.

It's times of stress like this that make me realize how much I covet feeling in control. I love when Everything Is Fine. The less unknown factors in my life, the better I am able to operate. Problem is…Life is unpredictable. We live in a changing, unstable, moving world, full of imperfect people, less than ideal circumstances, and unanticipated situations. The times that I am able to find a false sense of momentary security or comfort in feeling in control are so fleeting that I often fall on my face trying to chase after them and hold on to them.

Why do I let stress and fear paralyze me, drive my decisions, and destroy my body? God has been reminding me that the reason my mind and body are so burdened by stress and anxiety is because I’m not designed to harbor them. God tells us to cast all our anxiety on him because he cares for us. (2 Peter 5: 7) Wait…all of it? Are you sure, God? Can you handle it? Are you sure your grace is sufficient for me?

There is one good thing about all this stress—it reminds me of how helpless I am without God. My heart is so prone to wander away from God's truths, yet he is the one source of real strength and power, of peace and comfort.

No matter how often my heart does wander, my shepherd will always, always draw me back to a place where I can set my heart at rest (1 John 3:18). I feel lighter just thinking about how sovereign and in control he is. And how extravagantly he loves us…how extravagantly he loves me.