The simple pleasures of parking

My car Bella. (Okay, fine - a googled pic of my car model.)

I love my car and I guess I would say I enjoy driving her for the most part. If the conditions are right - meaning I know where I am going (rare), it is not rush hour, the sun is out, it is a free XM radio trial period and the temperature inside my car is comfortable - I would say it is probably #92 on my top 100 list of favorite things to do.

I usually say "I hate driving" but let's be clear - driving is not the true root of my car tension. The terrible luck arises when I get to my destination, slow down the wheels, peel open my eyes and attempt to stop my vehicle in a specified location - yes people, I am referring to the act of parking. Sounds trivial, but parking is the bane of my existence. You may not quite understand how such a simple everyday activity could cause me so much anxiety, but that just means you have not experienced the numerous parking woes that I have in life / you're not my real life friend since I talk about this all the time.

JENNY

I am actually skilled at nestling my car perfectly into its spot when it comes to scenarios of the "normal parking space" variety - we're talking malls, grocery stores, my apartment complex, etc. However I have come to find cool places = horrible parking options. [Basically, I just wish I had a golden parking spot that was housed in an alternate universe that appeared to me upon my arrival. Or, better yet, I wish I had a magic carpet or a teleportation device.]


Here is the true equation of how things go terribly wrong: 
1. Trying to find a parking spot
[leads to....]
2. Leaving my car parked in sketchy locations / Praying I don't get towed or caught up in a drive-by shooting
[which in my case equals....]

Rude.

Parking violations: I think I am being watched by the parking police / they have secretly bugged my "path" account and know my every move, because I am extremely prone to parking violations. Let's talk about the parking ticket I got when I accidentally identified the wrong downtown parking lot for one of my doctors. As if the rushing, driving and walking a mile through the building just to get to the office during the lunch rush was not enough, let's slap a nice yellow ticket right on my car as a thank you for waiting 30 minutes to get my blood drawn.

Or perhaps we should converse about the unlabeled Hollywood Disco parking spot (back in the days when HD was still kicking it) that apparently was not for da club. I turned the corner to head back to my car and before my eyes, 30 feet in the distance was my girl being hauled up the back of a tow truck. I flocked toward her, begged, cried a little and pleaded with the man to give me back my car. That was not working, and without big boobs to push together, I resorted to the bribe - 30 bucks later, he finally lowered her down with a warning.

Validation nightmares: Public service announcement: when you are blessed enough to have your parking validated - don't screw it up. Make sure you save your parking garage ticket - it is not a wrapper for your gum. Then make sure you keep track of the validation. Then, when you get to the pay station, do not listen to the people who told you how to conduct the validation steps, because most of the time they are wrong. Instead, read the fool proof directions on the pay machine for a successful clearance. Otherwise, you will end up paying anyways... which has happened to me. A lot.

Parallel parking mishaps: Enough said. I know I have a back up camera and therefore no excuse, but it is a skill I simply have not mastered. Sue me.

Dealing with other people who don't know how to park: Taking up two spaces or parking too close resulting in banged up doors and scratches are just some of the everyday happenings I come across. However, it gets worse than simply car door battle scars. The other day (the event that inspired this post) I had come to a show perfectly early, got a premiere parking spot in the approved and free lot, and was pleased with my parking experience. As I came out to exit, however, the entire lot was blocked in by a car that parked along the opening, leaving an extremely tight space between him and a properly parked car. I had literally no way out, and no way to know how to get in touch with the person whose car it was. So, I eye-balled the space myself, and with my heart pounding, inched my way through the space. I prayed, and for once, the parking God's heard me. I got through without a scratch or a tap - but the situation alone merited a Valium.

Yep, he definitely wants my money. Nope, that's not my car.

In the end, this leads to my piggy-bank-breaking solution: Complimentary valet parking: aka - turning your keys over to a man probably on speed so he can blast your music and joy ride your car - and potentially misplace your key-less ignition key somewhere in your dash. [True story.] Also, this experience is not so complimentary if you want to have good karma in your life. But, since valet is the best alternative to finding a magic carpet, I do this a lot and those two-buck tips add up.

Now maybe you can understand a little bit of my parking rage, and perhaps sympathize when I call you stressed out because I'm late (which I am NEVER late) because I can't find a place to park.  It's not my fault. I'm cursed.

Since you've been gone

I have had such and amazing start to spring so I thought I would give you a little sampler platter of this past month and what I've been up to.

The view at the Marina

Sitting on the dock of the bay: The Old Hickory marina restaurant, Black Jack Cove, reopened on March 30th and it is one of my favorite spots in town. Weston and I love going there and being on the water, and their smoked wings are to die for - an off-the-beaten-path choice for a quiet evening in town.

Saying goodbye: My dear friend Sondra is one of those women who can find inspiration in something as insignificant as bird poop. She is such a funny, real, Godly and eloquent person whose friendship and faith has taught me a great deal since moving to Nashville. She is now off to live in Utah to be close to family, and while I am sad to see her go, she is bravely embarking on a new chapter and I am really proud of her courage and clarity in the decision to take a risk and just go.

Getting a grip: Recently Weston and I have been playing tennis and it has been a lot of fun. Come the end of the day we really are best buds and it is fun to find new things to do together. Neither one of us is particularly skilled, but we can hit it back and forth! I know - you're impressed.

Wine tasting at Arrington Vineyard

Picnicking at the vineyard: Another one of my favorite spots, Arrington Vineyard is back open and I have already been twice this month! Everything makes more sense with friends, cheese, wine and a sun set. Another must do if you have not been.

Volunteering for the kids: I am FINALLY approved to be an official Vanderbilt Children's hospital playroom volunteer. This means I will be in the playroom with the little ones and bedside for those who are unable to leave their room. I am so looking forward to giving back in this bigger way. I start April 24th!

Eating my body weight in pizza: The restaurant experience is my remedy for all things. Happy, sad, bored, tired, going out to eat with friends and feeling the energy and vibe of that particular setting makes everything better. From Urban Flatts, to Whiskey Kitchen to Cabana, to Sambuca, the new warmth of the season has reignited my love of being out and about and of course, enjoying good food.

Monica, Brooke and me at the Marina!

Reconnecting: I am always amazed by how many great people I have in my life. From friendships that date back to high school, to Elon to my CMT internship days, to church, I could not find happiness without their company, laughter and support. From CMT reunion dinners, to an Elon Alumni chapter gathering in the park, this month has been all about reconnecting. And the best surprise was that my best friend from home, Monica, came to Nashville for a visit! We had delicious meals, a hike in the park, a tour of the Opry Resort, and a cook out at Weston's house. Yes, we covered a lot in just over 24 hours and it was like being home just giving her a hug.

Waiting for Sara at Belmont's arena

Rocking out: I have had so much fun living in this city and enjoying all the music it offers. Sunday night I went to the Sara Bareilles concert and she was absolutely amazing - her voice never ceases to wow me. The opener to Sara was an acapella group, The Collective. They were on her show The Sing Off, but new to me and without a doubt blew me away. I also saw Jana Kramer perform last night at 12th and Porter for a CMT taping, which was a lot of fun. And of course, everywhere you go in Nashville, music is all around you.

A place to start

Just as hard to resist as eating cheese with every meal.

Turning the page on spring has come with a lot of anticipation. In some ways it has been eventful and rewarding - in other ways a bit stressful and challenging. And come the end of the day, I have found it to be difficult to write about. Let's be honest - without the Bachelor, my funny well feels like it has run a bit dry. Not to say I am not laughing and enjoying life. But I always try to entertain on here instead of just babble - yes, an attempt that sometimes fails miserably. But recently, when I would start an entry, I just felt simply uninspired. I am doing fun things and making memories. But certain things I thought would be interesting laid flat on the screen. You've heard before about friends coming to visit, about my love for food, and slightly too-deep-for-my-own-good thoughts on life - new material was just not there. So another day would pass and suddenly here we are just shy of a month later. Rude. You deserve better than that, 10 followers of mine. I am sorry I have let you down.

This got me to thinking - why is it sometimes so hard to simply start? Start the day. Start the workout. Start the paper, the song, the email, the phone call. Start this entry.

This morning as the alarm clock went off, every fiber of my being resisted simply opening my eyes and turning my feet to the ground. I'd hit snooze, and the anticipation of the next jarring sound striking like lightening on my REM sleep was almost worse than simply getting out of bed. I sit here now wondering why I insist on snoozing for sometimes a whole two hours in the morning (I know - so stupid. But when I'm lazy and decide that morning to skip the gym, I will snooze on ten minute intervals from 5:00am to 7:00am - talk about trippy dreams). Wouldn't it be easier to just get out of bed and get it over with? Once you do, it's never as bad as you think it's going to be.

To this point, I was a competitive swimmer in high school and my event was the 100 butterfly. The day of a meet, I would be so stressed, I would feel like I was going to vomit the whole day. On the starting block my heart would be racing out of my chest. But the moment I hit that water, I took off. Everything else melted away and I found the strength to finish. All of that stress and worry was wasted. Yes, sometimes I'd win, and sometimes I'd come in short - but I would always finish the race despite my fears of passing out mid-lane like a dead fish. I had a lot of pride in simply leaving the block.

So that is what I finally decided to do here - sit down and start writing and get out there whatever it is that flew from my finger tips. You may not have laughed, but maybe you will be inspired to start something with the simple wistful intention to just begin.

From awkward to viral to awesome.

For those of you who enjoyed my Things That Are Awkward at the Gym blog post, here is an update:

The man referenced in my post from two years ago has been discovered by others and video taped! I must put in here as a foreword that I actually admire this man and his ability to not let any remote kind of social pressure keep him from exercising the way he wants to. Truly, it is a calorie busting approach and it looks like he is having a BLAST. So this is not to mock him or make fun of him. Simply to give you all a visual to what I experience every morning from a row of cardio machines away (and maybe a good laugh).



and another video found by my coworker - 

I have to say this absolutely all made my day. Thank you man at the gym. You are officially no longer "awkward" just AWESOME. 

 If you don't want to search through the post to find the commentary on this man, this is in reference to the #2 thing that is awkward at the gym which reads -

 2. Jumping, head banging and fist pumping while on the stair climber - This was a WTF moment and while I do judge this man, I secretly want whatever is in his cheerios because this guy seems like the most euphoric, energetic, exerciser on the planet. So, I get to my machine, and I have seen this guy before very "into" his workout jams. But today, he was on the stair climber which is a tall set of actual revolving stairs - like a stage towering high above the other machines. And he was climbing up then, shaking his head violently to the music. Suddenly (what I can only imagine to be the musical climax of the Rocky song) he starts to prance up the stair climber, bouncing up and down and jumping all around as he was climbing - the coordination was actually impressive. The veins in his calves were literally popping out. Sweat FALLING from his entire body (gross). And then, just when I thought this was the most insane thing I have ever seen, his arm flies up into the air, literally fist pumping over and over again. ON THE STAIR CLIMBER PEOPLE!? REALLY?! A. We are at the YMCA, not at a concert of the Village People doing the YMCA. B. What is on your headphones? C. (Again, secretly) what are you on?! I kind of want some. Because despite the public humiliation, whatever it is burns A LOT of calories. (I will gladly reenact this for you upon request).

How happiness happens.

On Friday night Weston and I sat outside in his backyard as the sun set, and over a bottle of wine discussed some fears I have been facing. I was overwhelmed and feeling lost about my purpose - questioning how things were taking shape and worrying about the future. I had a rough week and couldn't rest my mind and enjoy the moment because I was too preoccupied with figuring out my next move - determining what changes I needed to make to find "true happiness." Should I live closer to town? Did I major in the right field? Am I spending my time wisely? Am I nurturing my passions? Am I missing opportunities? Am I good at what I do? Am I wasting my money on food (never!)?

I bet he is in his twenties... or just... lost.

A big part of this anxiety I attribute to the curse of the "twenties" - the stigma that these are the best years of your life so you better do them right. Your twenties are a decade in which you are still young, energetic, and eager - without homework and hopefully with a moderate paycheck that gets you by. You are "all grown up" and yet real grown ups envy that you are free - without kids, probably without a mortgage (sans Weston who at 24 actually is a homeowner - what a real grown up, huh!). Life overall should be pretty easy - pretty euphoric. And yet, it is all of these assumptions I just listed that tend to make people living through their twenties feel inadequate.

Essentially, we are enduring a decade pressurized with social expectation and often we feel like we just don't live up. This social noise to have a dream, pursue it, become successful at it, all while finding a spouse, laying down roots, and yet still looking amazing, because let's face it - "our bodies will never look this good again" - can oftentimes be deafening. Suddenly life becomes more about living up, than simply living. 

I have a feeling you can relate. We all have those weeks (forget mid-life - try mid-month, every month crisis) when every day and every activity that consumes you just feels like a chore or even worse, like a failure. Almost as if you are swimming upstream, away from a path you think is going to take you from "just okay" to "great."

(Weston) (haha, yeah.. ).

So as you can imagine I am lamenting in true Jenny monologue fashion when suddenly Weston said something that really resonated with me. He said - "happiness doesn't happen to you - it is not created by a person, a job, a location. It is a mindset that you adopt. YOU can make happiness happen all on your own, right now. Take steps forward, but take them happily. The rest will fall into place." [Okay let's be honest, he is eloquent and that was at the heart of our two hour pep talk, but yes - that was my literary spin on a direct quote. You caught me.]

In that moment it took that insight (and let's also give credit to the wine) to remind me of the power of perception. I have written about this in the past a lot actually - whether it is attempting to see things "clartin clear" or simply taking the time to be grateful on a daily basis - but it is so easy to forget how doing small things can become a commitment to happiness and can in turn make all the difference. It doesn't have to mean moving across country, finding a brand new job, chopping off all your hair (oh goodness... mini panic attack at the thought). That kind of radical change might work for some - and might be necessary for some - but for me, it's the little things. These things are working out, writing, eating healthy (or indulging in oreo cookies) hugging, wearing a new outfit, listening to Celine Dion, dancing in my living room, trying not to sweat the small stuff (key word is TRYING), and taking life one day at a time. These things are not hard. Most of these things I can do at my desk at work (with the exception of yoga in the office - that didn't quite work out as I had planned). I can choose to just be happy.

-I did not say this. Nor did Weston. But its true.

Today I came into work with a completely different attitude and so far so good. I am human - tomorrow might suck. Tonight I might get home and stub my toe or step in duck poo - this is life. And clearly just "being happy" is a hard attitude change to make a habit, or else there wouldn't be an industry of self help books, happy pills and yours and my favorite - happy hour. BUT I am trying to be intentional about my happiness. I am trying to pursue happiness instead of pursuing a life change I think will bring it about. This doesn't mean I am going to stand still or settle. It just means I am going to climb the hill, and not assume I can jet-pack it to the top. Because no one can. I don't care if you are in your twenties or not - everyone's journey is unique. It is your own story - and making big things happen takes a lot of baby steps. Happiness means something different to every individual and so we must stop letting the voices in our head tell us our story isn't good enough or to just re-write it altogether (just listen to Celine instead).

It is possible, you have the power. Find the small things, incorporate them into your life, and commit to happiness. Because at the heart of happiness is just that - your heart. Not a job. Not a mansion. Not prince charming. Just you.

(Well, you, and maybe a bottle of wine too).

Spring fever.

Happy 1st birthday sweet Everley!

After some much needed spring cleaning this weekend and beautiful 80 degree sunshine, spring 2012 has officially begun. I truly believe my winter funk has lifted, and so, in true Jenny fashion, I am now diagnosing myself with yet another mother nature induced state - full on spring fever.I am really excited about heading into April. Things are coming full circle, capping off certainly the most self-revealing, exciting, roller coaster of a year - but I can say with confidence I wouldn't have had it any other way.

A year ago today, sweet Everley Burton had her life-saving surgery and thinking back on that day - on how scared I was for her, and for the Burton family, and how God truly pulled through a miracle - is humbling and just what I need to lift out of the mundane woes of a work day.  Looking back, this moment is what truly began a year that challenged and strengthened my faith in so many ways.

In Chicago last August for W's bday!

Everley was not the only person to grace my life that spring. Last April I met Weston. If you haven't gathered this yet from reading - yes, he is my boyfriend. Yes, he has a cool name. And if you are doing the math - yes that will put us at one whole year together. It is hard to believe a year has gone by, and yet in many ways I can't imagine him not being in my life. We have certainly become best friends, been through a lot, but what has surprised me most is how much I have learned about myself and grown through this relationship. No. I am not about to get all sappy. No one wants to read that. What people do want to read is the truth - nothing is perfect and for a perfectionist who has watched far too many romantic movies to have her feet remotely on the ground, it has not always been easy. Growing with someone is just that - growing. And that comes with growing pains just as it did in middle school when there were days you were seasonably confused and thus awkwardly dressed in a mini skirt and Uggs. But it has also been exciting and memorable. And no matter what happens, or where life takes us, I am very grateful he has been in my life.

Okay - since you probably saw the word "boyfriend" and skipped right over that paragraph in hopes of missing some melodramatic hallmark card, channel back in. It's over.

Let this be you - sort of. You get it...

For as much change as I have experienced in the past year, I can only hope that continues. I want my life to be ever-changing. I have high hopes for what is to come and none of them involve settling for "good enough." Unlike New Years day when the pressure is on for resolutions and life change, spring is a more subtle and lovely reminder that even in the darkest and coldest of days, the sun will come out again and new life will grow. Today I feel empowered, not intimidated. I feel hopeful and excited.

With that, I challenge you to look at your life like a seed in the ground. Don't deny yourself of sun, water, or a rich foundation. You can have all of those things. Learn what you truly need and want, nurture your life with people, a career, and activities that provide food for your soul, and you will flourish. Instead of waiting for someone or something to come around, cultivate your own life. This takes reflection, self-awareness, and courage, which is not always easy to tap into. But what better time than spring to not only clean out your closet to make room for new fashion, but to also spend some time cleaning out your soul to make room for greatness.

Crock-pot love

If I have learned anything from this (and every) season of The Bachelor it is this:
Love cannot be microwaved.

This is me when I sit down to the meal

Let me explain. I am no chef and to be quite frank, the act of cooking just stresses me out. There is a lot of heat involved in cooking. For one meal I can end up having the stove and three burners on, my hair is frizzing up, my pits are sweating and I am just feeling like an overall mess. I also find that in the midst of trying to get the timing right, I end up burning something - be it the food or my hand (typically both) and when I finally sit down to eat I am like a poodle in heat. I am also an emotional eater, so I am typically snacking during the process of cooking and not even hungry by the time the meal is ready.

Don't accept a Mac & Cheese Wannabe

All of this leads me back to my culinary comfort zone - the microwave. A place where I can zap my food in five minutes with no thought, no sweating, and no long wait period. There is no clean up, and barely any time to snack before the meal is ready. The heat concentrates fast and can turn ice into chicken - a tiny miracle of sorts. It seems like a wonderful solution, when it fact I am consuming food that is very high in sodium and probably giving myself cancer by eating out of the microwaved plastic containers. I am deceiving myself and taking the easy way out. And probably going to end up suing Lean Cuisine for my premature death.

But guess what friends - there is a happy medium for beginners to the cooking world and it is called THE CROCK-POT. The concept is genius - correctly measure and dump all of the contents of your recipe into a pot, and slow cook it throughout the day - set it and forget it. You can take your time in the store to pick out all the right ingredients, but you don't have to slave over a stove. There are many different kinds of recipes, but all of them cook slowly with just the right amount of heat, blending the flavors together over time. When you come back to your kitchen, you have a wonderful meal waiting which can be healthy and yet very low maintenance.

Real love cooking right here.

That is the kind of love that lasts - Crock-pot love. So many people jump into relationships when the heat is too high and the timing is wrong, and find themselves unfulfilled and unsatisfied with the end result. People in these kind of relationships get burned, and of course after an episode like that, there is a whole hell of a lot of clean up. Then there are the relationships in which it is almost too easy and too comfortable but because you are rushing in and aren't putting in the real work, you end up deceiving yourself and your partner by not being true to what you really want and need. It may be instant gratification that allures you to your comfort zone, but it does not last a lifetime or truly do a body good.

The best kind of relationship is the kind that cooks slowly - that has all of the right ingredients that may take time to marinate together, but in the end evolve into a flavorful end result. It is not instant gratification and it does take some work, but it is the right kind of work - choosing your recipe and your ingredients carefully, but letting the natural chemistry of the cooker do the rest. It is the kind of heat that grows over time but will never get too hot to burn you. It is the kind of effort that fills you up, but doesn't in turn make your pits sweat or your body endure cancer-causing radiation.

So I encourage you all to wait for your Crock-pot kind of love. It may take some time to find and master, but when you do, you'll never want to cook another way again.