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you can do this, holy cow.

21 Apr
Writing a thesis sure is easier if there’s a song to go with it –
Many laughs and so many thanks to Joel and Melissa for writing, and to Lloyd and Betty for performing.  [Hint:  They’re actually the same people.]  you.are.awesome.  
[This is a short post because, really, what more can I say?  Watch the video and you will understand my amazement and lack of words.  To be a fly on the wall of Joel and Melissa’s apartment would be something.  They taught me how to liturgical dance to Katy Perry’s Firework a few nights ago.  This is one talented and super fun couple, folks!  You should be their friend.]

excitement. [updated]

19 Apr
I can’t help but be excited.  
I wrote a few weeks ago that I feel like I’m in a glass case of emotion.  Some days, I’m so ready to break free of this seminary institution; others, I don’t want to think about the inevitable departure.
Today I’m just excited about what is to come in the next few weeks.  Probably just as excited and giggly as this girl is to encounter a penguin.  [‘Hey, you penguin.  It’s too hot for you here.  I gotta send you back to the South Pole.’  Not an exact quote but, if you follow me in the slightest, you know where it comes from … name that movie for another ten points.  Remember, right now it’s Adam with 10 points and you with zero.  Here’s your chance!]  [Updated: Cassie for the win!  Check the comments for the answer.  And, yes, I think I am this excited!] Source: None via Lindsay on Pinterest

Frankly, I’m just giddy thinking about graduation.  The ceremony.  I’m excited to receive my master’s degree.  Rephrased: FREAKING excited.  You know, I’ve worked hard for this and it will feel great to have it completed and recognized in a graduation ceremony.  Hood me, por favor.
The night before graduation is baccalaureate.  [Try spelling that without the squiggly red line.  I fail every time.]  I’m pretty stoked that my mom and likely grandma and sister will be here for that occasion.  Prior to the worship service is a meet-and-greet with the CYF faculty/staff at Luther.  They want to meet my family.  And I want my family to meet them.  [I’ll be the first to admit I was pretty dumb my first two years at school.  I made little connection with the CYF team – the area of my concentration – and fellow CYF students.  Dumb.  Attempting to make up for that lack of awesome-ness this year.]
If we keep going backwards, the week and a half before the weekend of graduation is senior week.  I’m on the planning team for a week of events such as a possible dinner cruise, outdoor movie, and fun 5k.  For every minute that there isn’t a planned event, here’s hoping there will be impromptu and spontaneous hanging out and going out.  There will be no classes or papers; what else am I to do?  [Pack, says the logical part of the brain.  Nah, says the part that wants to have fun.]  
Before that, there will be the satisfaction of turning in final papers, attending final class periods, defending and turning in a thesis.  I feel ready for it.  Let’s do this thing.

there once was a party.

18 Apr
It started here.  An article I found online made claims that the dinner party was dying.  Think about it.  Are you more apt to go to someone’s home for a fancy dinner or meet friends at a restaurant?  If you are normal [always debatable, right?] and stand with the majority of society, chances are you do the later before the former.  
The dinner party is dying because of you.  
[Like that twinge of guilt thrown in?  Thought you would.]
I posted that very article to one Lauren’s facebook wall on the first of March.  Comments followed from Megan, Cassie, Marie, and Amanda.  We vowed to not let this death continue or to at least bring about a resurrection.  [It is nearly Easter.][Bad seminary joke?  Yup.  Maybe even a little distasteful?  Probably.]  Thus began the plans for our very own dinner party.
The location was settled and menu planned.  
Cocktails and hors d’oeuvres were decidedly key parts of the evening.
Guests were invited and dress code established.  
This past Friday, our dream came true.  It was the grandest of 1960s-style dinner parties.  Cocktail dresses, lamb, cosmos, bowties, shrimp cocktail, wine, and baked alaska.  We spent our evening in style and in great company.  Fun was had by all around the table that seated eleven.   
No group pictures took I but these photos will give you a taste of our elegant evening as we saved the dinner party from further death.
Joel and Melissa.  Shrimp.  Cheese.
The men gather, sadly without cigars.
lamb, risotto, carrots, and asparagus.  (not pictured: delicious salad course.)
dessert: baked alaska with Lauren’s delightful
personalized center pieces in the background.

good. but creepy.

17 Apr
With friends Sara and Melissa by my side, I ventured to the world’s largest textile garage sale on Saturday.  Was it everything I hope for and more?  Eh.  It was good but I will admit between the photos of the event leading me to think it would be larger and the fact that I scored no buttons-to-cover, I was the slightest bit disappointed.  That, however, does not mean that I nor Sara nor Melissa left empty handed.  I paid $8 for this pile of fabric, nearly all indicative of my current love of gingham and plaid –

There are easily three yards of the yellow/orange/green plaid home decor weight – fabric that would cost about $9/yard at full cost and the type of fabric that is ideal for making grocery totes.  The gray gingham is also home decor weight, and as I unwrapped the taped bundle, I discovered that half of the bundle appears to be a finished table runner.  So now I guess I own a gray checked table runner?  And a shirt sleeve.  Do you see the yellow striped shirt sleeve?  It was inside of another bundle of fabric.  A tad creepy?  I think so.  [At least it was just the shirt sleeve and not, like, the arm that was in the sleeve.  Dan Brown, get out of my head!]
As we left the fabric sale and as we drove off, we saw orange estate sale signs.  “Do you want to go?” I asked.  Sure.  Sara and Melissa were ready and willing for further adventure.  [The best kinds of friends are the ones always up for an impromptu adventure!]  I’d never been to an estate sale but have heard many times it’s the place to score mighty cool things.  We walked up the stairs to an old home and were greeted with a horrid musty smell the moment we stepped inside the front door.  The place was dingy and dark and smelly.  In one word – creepy.  Live there I would not.  We scouted the goods for sale from room to room with both exclamations of excitement and general confusion.  Examples of the creepiness?

Not the best photography job on my part, but it appears to be a nice painting of a
country home with crazy art on top of it.  It’s a monster?  Duck?  I’m just not sure.  $85.

Fur hat anyone?  Where was it displayed?  The kitchen, of course.

This is how Sara and Melissa feel about our current creepy situation.

Elephant salt and pepper shakers.  Ink cartridges.  A pumpkin.
A naked baby statue.  Who were these people?

We try our hand at vintage Trivial Pursuit.  

Pretty plates.  Silver serving spoons.  And baby shoes?  Who organizes this way?!
Further creepiness?  As we neared the room to check out with our purchases [I bought my Banana Christmas gift for this year from amidst the creepiness.  muahaha.], an older woman in a fur coat approached us.  She was not one of the employees administering the sale, as they wore aprons, but yet didn’t appear to be a shopper either.  “Would you like to see a secret drawer?” she asked as she pointed to a dresser in the corner of the room.  “Sure?” we responded.  Certain enough, there was a secret drawer in this dresser, as she found the latch to press and pulled it open.  “For your jewelry,” she told us.  “You don’t have much now, but you will later.”  Was this woman the owner of the home?  Was she present as all of her things – from a clown mask to old handwritten letters to gorgeous blue plates – walked out the door in the hands of other people?  Extremely strange.  And, as Sara pointed out later, she kinda looked like the woman Harry and Hermione encounter in Godric’s Hollow.  You know, the one that turned into the giant snake.  I’m glad we left when we did.  

proof that I play.

12 Apr
You guys know me, right?  I don’t think for one second you could be convinced that all I do is work with no play and thus am a dull boy like Jack.  Right?  Allow me to give you substantial evidence.
Maybe you’ll remember my posts about Kevin, aka Joel.  I’ve been hanging out with Joel and his Pinterest pinning wife, Melissa, a lot of late.  They’re a lot of fun.  Often, Joel will lean over in our 8am Friday morning class and ask me, “So what are we doing tonight?”  Then we make plans.  Last Friday, we went out for dinner at the Wild Onion on Grand and then they came over to play Just Dance on the Wii.  How intensely did we dance?  Just know this – Joel sweat on me.

The last two nights, we’ve been celebrating half birthdays – Melissa’s, Joel’s, and my roommate, Jeanette’s.  (Why? you ask.  Because the school year is drawing to a close and we will take any excuse to hang out together.  What better reason do we need than that?)  Thanks to a Groupon given to me by one friend James, we also ventured into south Minneapolis to the Pumphouse Creamery for organic, fair trade ice cream in interesting homemade cones.  [Ignore my horrid hair.  It was not a good day.]  Granite City last night, Cafe Latte tonight, and I promised my confirmation ladies a dinner out tomorrow night.  Ugh.  I need to eat at home one of these nights.
All work and no play make Lindsay a dull girl but a happy combination of the two make Lindsay a happy and accomplished girl.  I finally cleaned off my bed of clothes and this afternoon, soaking in the sun outside of Starbucks, I was quite productive. A couple one-page papers written and the finding of the perfect quote/chapter from a theologian that I needed to jump start my thesis.  Want to hear it?
Theologically, in the eyes of God you, the person, are worth 
more than anything you can ever achieve.  (James Loder)
Boom.  Done.  There’s my thesis.  [In relation to fourth and fifth graders.  With a little discourse on the effects of body image/bullying.  A bit of child development.  Some doctrine on creation.  And throw in a twist regarding creativity and imagination.]
Remember when we went to the library as little kids in elementary school and we had a three book limit?  I had to be strategic about that book limit as I pulled books from the shelves and dreamed about taking them home.  I always wished it was five books and not three.  It’s quite fortunate that the Luther Seminary library trusts students enough to not impose a limit of books that can be checked out.  Here’s the current stack, that seems to only grow by the day:

one with a LOTR reference.

10 Apr
thesis.*
I talked to Aunt Peggy tonight on the telephone.  We caught up on life details and as I told her about my ever-impending thesis, she interrupted me, “Lindsay, are you having any fun up there?”
Apparently, I had made my life seem filled with school assignments and future congregation processes.  [Ha.  Fooled her.]
I told her not to worry.  That I was probably having more fun than I should be, and that going out with friends or trying a new craft project usually topped homework on the list of things that actually get accomplished.
Because, she told me, you only have a few more weeks.
So true.  And I’m all emotionally jumbled about it.  [Maybe one could say I’m in a glass case of emotion?  Maybe?]
I spent the first two years of seminary making my way through but pretty much just looking to the future and being done.  I spent the latter part of my internship year wishing I didn’t have to come back to classes.  The first semester of this year was spent in a slight depression, wanting with my whole being to not be a student.  There are right around four weeks left of the semester.  Four weeks left of my four years of work in my master’s degree.  And now I kinda want them to slow down.
Because when these four weeks are over [and add another week and a half of “senior week” before graduation], I’ll be moving away from the cities.  For all practical reasons, I’ll be moving home-home after graduation, as every weekend of June is booked with fun family and friend events.  [See this not as complaining; I actually think it will be quite lovely to spend June in the country and preparing for party upon party.  It will be grand to have the windows open and hear only corn growing, not kids screaming.  As is what happens here.  All day long.  Since my apartment faces the parking lot.  Where the kids ride their bikes, play ball, and scream.  All day long.]  I’ve come to love all the cities has to offer and it’s been great to get out this past year and experience a lot of new things.  Last year, two weeks prior to the end of internship, I wrote this rant.  [And this one four weeks prior to that.]  I’m not quite to the point of ranting, but still think the ‘little sleep, much coffee’ attitude will begin now.  Or at least until this thesis is written.  Or tomorrow.  I’m sleepy now.
A fancy dinner party this Friday with friends. // Half-birthdays to celebrate. // Tandem bike riding and/or canoeing with dearest Sara. // Minnesota History Center in St.Paul.  [Anyone?] // A mosaic class, a letterpress class, and potentially a truffle making class. // A Southeastern MN synod assembly.  [Can I get a ‘woot’?!] // A thesis to write and the same thesis to defend. // A weekend home for Easter to make kinder eggs, maybe an adult egg hunt, and spring cake pops to create. // Thursdays out and about. // The normal load of reading and writing [which I’ve already confessed I do minimally – shh]. 

Perhaps I need to begin by cleaning my bedroom and finding my bed.  My mother will totally be embarrassed [but probably not surprised] by me posting this photo but let me relieve her of any blame – she did teach me better than this.  I’m simply being honest with you that my life is not perfect and that this is what happens when Lindsay can’t decide what to wear and when Lindsay is too lazy to hang things back up.  But trust me, the kitchen and bathroom are [nearly] always spotless.

* There is this scene in Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, that has been playing through my head all day.  Galadriel, crazy elf woman, is narrating as we watch Frodo and Sam continue to travel towards Mordor.  She says something to the tune of this: “In his heart, Frodo begins to understand.  The quest will claim his life.”  Replace Frodo with Lindsay.  Quest with thesis.  Both his with her.  That, my friends, is how I feel after this weekend.  I’ll keep you posted on the progress.

a request.

6 Apr
There has been a request.  A request for a post.  A post about music.
Here is some musical insight into Lindsay, as well as an embarrassing story in bad taste.
I’ll be the first to admit that my taste in music in my high school days was pretty horrid at times.  After a steady diet of Garth Brooks and Reba McIntire throughout my early years [who gave Reba lip-sync “concerts” in the tobacco strip house with her playschool microphone?  this girl.], I went pop for a time … but not necessarily to the good stuff.  I won’t tell you how much money I paid to see Ricky Martin in concert my 9th grade year.  [Okay.  I will.  $80.]  I was in love with Ricky Martin ever since he sang ‘Copa de la Vida’ at the Grammy’s in, oh, 1999ish?
I was in the midst of my Spanish classes and I loved his Spanish albums from that point on.  I listened to him bunches, and then saw the Livin’ la Vida Loca tour in Milwaukee.  [I will maintain that his early Spanish albums are better than the English ones that followed.  Does that help my case at all?] My dad was such a good sport, toting four high school girls to the Bradley Center to see Ricky Martin.  [He didn’t actually attend but dropped us off and picked us up following.]  I think we even took signs that we held up to the car windows – “Ricky Martin bound!” and the like.  [ugh.  embarrassed.  the things we do when we’re 15.]  When I was at that point in my life, I probably would tell you that the concert was awesome.  I remember there was confetti and free Armani perfume samples.  Currently, I can’t say that Ricky Martin is on my playlist any too often.
It’s on days like this – sun shining, flip-flops on, and sitting outside on the patio of the Stillwater Public Library overlooking the flooded St. Croix river – that I wish the radio in my car worked.  I think there is no better sign of spring than country music and the windows down.  Even if it’s still a bit too cold, I’ll put the window down and the heat on to turn the music up louder.  Country music is ultimately my roots and my default.  
That’s not to say I didn’t go through a huge Lady Gaga phase while on internship.  Matchbox Twenty is probably my favorite of all time.  Josh Groban and Michael Buble rank pretty high.  Taylor Swift goes on repeat quite a bit lately.  I think Darius Rucker and the Zac Brown Band know me too well as every song seems to apply to my life.  Keith Urban is dreamy.  And I would pay more than $80 to see Snow Patrol in concert.  LOVE them.  Unfortunate for me that they’re based across the ocean.  [Nearly half of my “25 most played songs” playlist on iTunes are Snow Patrol.]  
I’m not too eclectic and pretty mainstream when it comes to what’s on my ipod, but I’m always up for suggestions to make me more musically hip like you.  Who is your favorite right now?  What should I listen to so we can become better friends?

blessed to be a blessing.

3 Apr
*ahem*  My weekend story.
Once upon a Saturday morning, Lindsay drove south to a small country church for an interview.  [Not such a blessing: The iPhone car charger I bought the night before in anticipation of this long weekend traveling about Minnesota somehow blows a fuse in my car.  The radio, clock, and cigarette lighter worked for none of the ten hours I spent driving yesterday and today.  What worked overtime?  My brain.  And the voices in my head.  Not good.  This blog post?  Written mentally on the drive.  My one-page paper due tomorrow?  Not written on the drive.]  The interview went … well.  [Also well?  The fact that I discovered there is a Target AND a JoAnne Fabrics not ten minutes from where I would be living if I were to receive the call.  Score!]  I feel blessed to have reached this point and am so excited to begin doing ministry in a new place.  I’ll keep you posted!
From this small country church, I drove west and north to Dawson dearest.  [Four hours.  Did I mention no radio?]  There was a ticket and it had my name on it.  A seat was reserved for me to see the Dawson-Boyd High School production of Hairspray.  It was magnificent.  Hilarious.  [Enter any synonym for “awesome.”]  Those high schoolers and adults who participated both on stage and behind the scenes are blessed with incredible gifts.  Incredible.
I felt greatly blessed to return to Dawson and be greeted by so many friends.  I honestly cannot tell you how it ever happened.  I spent a year in this place and met some of the most wonderful people.  In that one year, they shared humor, confidence in me, hugs, and loads of love.  I love them to bits.  And miss them bunches. 
As I ran into friends in the rush that followed the end of the musical, I smiled so loudly.  I couldn’t stop as I saw people I didn’t expect to see and received/gave hug after hug.  I caught up briefly on Dawson lives, shared my own life update, and was the butt of [only a few] jokes.  The one that had me laughing the hardest?
     [discussing whether or not I’m going to worship at Grace the following day]
     Sam: You could go in disguise.
     Me: Hmm.  I didn’t bring any disguises.
     Mary:  You could not wear a cardigan.
     [hilarious.  and sadly true.  I had packed a cardigan for the next day.]
I was blessed by former coworkers who opened their home to me.  Again.  I was lucky to have a couch to sleep on in a house that feels like a home to me.  [I think that’s a compliment, Emily!  I hope you take it as such!]  After spending time there dog-sitting Abby, the mischievous lab who played many games with me this morning, and numerous late nights of dinner and wine, it feels completely comfortable and wonderful to return, if only for a short night.  
This morning I worshipped at Grace.  It was the first time I’d been back to the church and, actually, the first time I’d simply sat in the congregation and worshipped.  Kendall preached – after I had a red-faced introduction from the current intern as the returning intern – and it was all about blessing.  Paying attention to the blessings in our lives.  We have received blessings upon blessings, and with those, we bless back.  We bless with what God has given us; with what we have received, we bless others. 

This past weekend, I was so incredibly aware of blessings I have received.  [And then I came back and had to do homework and this group presentation meeting and became really crabby and I should probably apologize again and again to my group members.]  Many of the blessings I was again reminded of are faces, names, and arms that hug me again and again.  [Two examples of many: Custodian Keith.  He and his wife give me a hug when they first see me.  *mingle, mingle*  Keith and Gail are on their way out, and Keith wonders if he’ll see me in church the next day.  I told him I wasn’t quite sure, so he said he’d better give me another hug just in case.  He says, in reference to the staff at Grace, “We were a pretty tight group.”  Aww.  Yes, we were.  Second: A hug, quick conversation, and kiss on the hand from my five-year-old friend, C.]  I’m so incredibly blessed; here’s hoping I take those blessings and am a blessing to others.  Source: 24.media.tumblr.com via David on Pinterest 

In this new week, pay attention to the blessings in your life.  
What/who are they?  AND 
How are you a blessing to others?

It’s Monday.

28 Mar
My 8am class doesn’t exactly make me too thrilled about the start of a new week.  Still, there are things that  excite me.  Happy Monday; let’s find the joy in this jolted end to the weekend.
An embroidery foot for my sewing machine added to an online cart.  My next creative dream is a circle quilt, quilted in the meandering style.  [Two new feats to tackle.]  I kinda just want to copy this quilt exactly – I love the colors and the gray binding.

I went to a roller derby on Saturday night.  It was ca-ray-zee.  Girls on roller skates fighting, jammers, pivots, and people in costumes.  It’s like these people asked themselves, “Hmm.  Where can I wear that Chewbaca suit I have in my closet?  Oh, the roller derby.  Of course.”  Duh.

I put a quilt in the mail to a friend and with perfect timing – I heard this morning that baby came early and both mom and baby are healthy and well.  Unfortunate that this new family lives in Seattle; hopefully a visit will happen this summer.

It’s my pal, Adam’s, birthday today and I’ll be attending birthday dinner tonight at his aunt-in-law’s home.  Rumor has it there will be ice cream cake.  I bought him pretzel m&ms.  His favorite.  [Added as of 10:30pm : Adam’s birthday dinner was a success.  Rumors were true.  I also discovered that he reads this blog.  And thus knew of his gift before I arrived.  Note to self: Quit revealing secrets on blog, as I know not who all reads this nonsense … ]

M. and I

26 Mar
I spent a lot of time with M. this past week.  She was on spring break and her family is busy in the midst of move preparation.  I went over to her house for two days and the third she came over to my “grown-up apartment.”  We had a lot of fun crafting, baking, and watching Ariel.

M. arrived and walked into my apartment for the first time.  She sized up the room, paused in the middle of the living area, and said convincingly, “This is nice.”  Thanks, M.  She took off her boots and made herself at home.  We sewed and stuffed a pillow [It was her idea and she clung to that pillow for the rest of the afternoon!], and I sewed together a few book signatures for her to take home and continue to create.  We baked cookies, and she cuddled up on my bed to watch Ariel [The Little Mermaid].  
It was just a lot of fun.  It’s been really cool to babysit for her over these last years and watch her grow since I’ve been in St.Paul.  I’ll miss her bunches when I’m off somewhere abouts in the southern portion of the state next year.
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