No Man is an Island

I've been playing around with the idea for this post for a few months. Probably since before the end of last school year and I just couldn't find the words to make it work. I don't know if these are the words that are going to make it work, but I'm going to try.

This weekend my sister and I went on kind of a "spiritual binge" at Rock the Universe (a two-night Christian music festival at Universal Studios) and a lot of it was incredibly eye-opening.

I titled this post "No Man is an Island" for a couple of reasons:

#1: It's a song by one of my very favorite bands Tenth Avenue North.

#2: It's a song that speaks to me about life. My life now, and what my life used to be like.

#3: It's a cool title.

Okay, so I get a lot of flack from people who think I'm kind of cranky and moody and, well, you get the idea. Sometimes I can be those things, but most of the time I try really, really hard not to be.

See, there was a time in my life when I was really cranky. Like...

Mean.

Angry.

Hateful.

I don't want to be those things anymore, so I do my best to be...nice. A lot of the time I'm just really sarcastic and people don't get it. I'm working on that too.

Anyway, that's not the point of this post. The point of this post is that if I didn't have people in my life to keep me balanced I would still be that person. So many things have changed since my life was like that. I remember so vividly my very first evaluation at the end of my first year of teaching. My observer mentioned that my mentor teachers said something along the lines of me "not working well with others".

That was my first reaction and my initial feeling. Of course, we always want to blame others for our mistakes because that's easier. It's easier not to feel accountable for anything, including our own faults. It's taken me a while to get through that initial evaluation. I think about it every year when I start fresh with my team. I think about how we share ideas, triumphs, challenges...and I'm grateful. I'm grateful that I'm not alone and that I have people who have my back. 

I feel like this goes with so many other parts of my life, though. I love to be alone, but I know that it's important to have people to support you. For me, the change started when I began attending church regularly. It had been so long since I'd let anyone into my life that it was kind of scary. But, here I was reconnecting with my best friend, making new friends, and welcoming God back into my life. 

I know that getting back into church is way turned my life around. I know that committing to a life with Christ is what helped get me over whatever I was dealing with. (I think I'm mostly over it?) 

Because of that I'm able to share my life with others. Because of that I know I'm not alone. I think it's important to find your people, no matter where you are. I have a lot of people and I'm so, so grateful for all of them. 

One of the things that stuck with me the most this weekend was something Mike Donehey, the lead singer for Tenth Avenue North said. I can't remember the exact quote, but it he was talking about wanting to be used by God in any way possible and how important it was to not look down on others or judge others because we think we are better than them. I think that's so important, and it's one of the things I struggle with everyday. It's not easy to admit that, but it's true. 

I have people to keep me in check everywhere I turn. There are so many things that I need help with and I'm glad that my eyes are finally open to that. I'm thankful to have a family that keeps me on my toes, people who help me be a better teacher, lifegroups that help me be a stronger Christian, friends to be honest with me when it matters most. 

We are not islands. We can't do life alone. I'm thankful everyday for the people I get to do life with.   

Remember that next time you think I'm being mean.

That last part was a joke. 

Here's the video for this lovely song: 

Pardon Me While I Fangirl

My last post was about how I don't know how to "act my age". This post is going to prove that point. It's going to prove it so good.

This weekend I finally got to visit The Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Islands of Adventure. Sure, to a lot of people it's just a theme park with a cool castle and a couple of rides and a delicious Butterbeer drink. But to others (me) it's literature come to life. It is, almost literally, magic.

Let me give you a little history about my love affair with Mr. Potter. My younger sister was interested in the movies when she was a kid but I didn't really see what the big deal was at the time. Today (June 26th, 2014) marks the 17th anniversary of the release of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's (Sorcerer's to Americans) Stone. So, seventeen years ago I was in high school and the extent of my reading was either the required lists in my English class or some sort of trashy romance novel.

It wasn't until the third movie came out in 2004 and I took my sister to see it that I actually became interested in the series. It happened for a very specific reason that I remember so very clearly: I needed to know more. I even borrowed the first book from one of my classmates even though I'm pretty sure she hated me. There are so many things that were left unanswered for me in that two hours that I absolutely had to find them out as soon as possible. See, movies aren't always all they're cracked up to be. ;) 

I know there are people who don't like to read and there are people who definitely don't like to read children's fantasy books, but all I know is that the book is always better than the movie. This is something that the Harry Potter series has taught me. It's also taught me patience, though I consider myself lucky enough to not have started the journey with Mr. Potter until after what I can only imagine was a torturous three year wait between Book 4 and Book 5.

So, in the ten years since I've become a Potterhead I have been to two midnight book releases and five midnight movie openings. One thing I hadn't done? GO TO THE WIZARDING WORLD OF HARRY POTTER WHEN IT OPENED IN 2010.

Until now:

"Yep, I'm home."

I can't really explain what it's like to see this place without waxing poetic about it, okay? I just know that I got a little emotional. Now, for a non-Potterhead (ie: normal person) that probably sounds weird. However, if you've read any of my other posts you know that I'm weird and you are either a) also weird, b) okay with my weirdness, or c) indifferent and like when I say stupid things. Like I said before, this park is literature come to life. Not only that, it's one of my favorite books of all time come to life. And, guys, it's amazing.

The details that are put into the stores and rides and the castle. This place is everything I hoped it would be and more. Even with the hundreds of people (tourists) milling about the little town of Hogsmeade it was an experience to remember. (So much so that we went back after spending a day at Universal Studios BECAUSE DIAGON ALLEY ISN'T OPEN YET.)

Pretty impressive. 

Anyways, the whole visit really was like magic and even though phase two isn't open at Universal Studios yet, they do offer you a sneak peek of the outside streets and some of the London buildings. 

King's Cross Station

The Knight Bus (The conductor looks just like Stan Shunpike.)

Outside buildings, including Grimmauld Place at the end.

If you (Potterheads) have seen any of the photos from Diagon Alley, you know this is pretty much nothing. But it was so exciting to catch a little glimpse of it even though it is apparently very tightly under lock and key. Universal workers said that they haven't seen any of it either, so it must be good. Oh, and don't try to jump the fence. They don't like when you do that. 

She was a good sport. 

That was my Wizarding World of Harry Potter experience and it was awesome. Nothing too embarrassing happened. I even survived riding Dragon Challenge solo because my family is a bunch of chickens. Well, nothing embarrassing happened until I met Captain America... 

Funny story for you okay? You know I love superheroes. Captain America is probably my favorite. (Okay he is. And okay it probably has something to do with the beauty that is Chris Evans. I can't help it, I like pretty things.Oh, and FREEDOM.) So here's what happened: 

My sister loves Wolverine and while we're hanging out in the Marvel Superhero Island the X-Men characters are out taking pictures. Now, when I went to Disney as a kid this was the coolest thing ever. I mean, those people are practically famous, right? Here I am at the ripe old age of thirty-one and I just don't care that much. (Can you sense the foreshadowing here?) So, Sarah is super excited to get her picture taken with Wolverine and I'm joking on her about it but she doesn't care 'cause the guy's pretty cute and nice so it's okay. I'm not sure what I was expecting in this part of the park since Disney owns Marvel and other things that I don't know a lot about, but I didn't think they would have any other heroes there. 

So. We're leaving to go on a ride and I'd turned around to say something to my mother and when I faced forward again there he was. Okay, I know he's just a dude in a suit. I KNOW. However, when some dude in a suit with a shield looking like your favorite superhero just appears right in front of you, sometimes you forgot how to human. That's not a typo, I forgot to how to human. As in: what are words? (Did I mention he was tall?) So, my mother jumped in (she could talk to a brick wall, for real) shook his hand and told him to shake mine, which he did and then he walked away. (He had nice eyes, too.)

How'd I get the picture, you ask? Oh, that's because I may have kind of stalked Captain America just a little bit. Of course, in true Captain America fashion he a) remembered me b) thanked me for coming to see him c) asked me if I wanted to be protected or hold the shield. 

After that I had to put up with a lot of crap from my sister because, yeah, they're just guys in suits taking pictures with gross, sweaty, weird people all day. I deserved it, though. To each fangirl her own, after all.

Some of us are just weirder than others.

That's it in a nutshell. I don't really know if this post had a point except for me to be excited about something and tell you an embarrassing story. I don't really mind that much, though. Laughter is the best medicine, in my book. Also, if you can't laugh at yourself then you suck, okay? 

But really, I don't think anyone is ever too old to experience magic. Maybe it's in a book or a theme park or a dude in a suit. Go have some fun or something and then tell me about it, because I love fun. 

XOXO

First Born Problems

When my sister was younger she just wanted to know everything. It was totally endearing, until she couldn’t let something go and bugged us for years with the same question even though no one could give her the “right” answer.

We didn’t have a conventional family, and that was okay with everyone. Sarah, my sister, knew early on that we had different dads. (That makes us half-sisters, but we don’t think of ourselves that way. We aren’t half-people, after all.) When she first learned to talk she called her dad “Tim” a few times, and it was pretty funny.

But the thing that she wanted to know the most about our family, what she really, really needed an answer to was:

Why was Ashley born first?

For a while this was the only question she would ask, and she would get so pissed when my mom didn’t give her the answer she wanted to hear. To me, it was hilarious (and frustrating because, seriously, get over it), but to her it really mattered.

So, kid, here are some reasons why I (and all other older siblings) was born first:

To soften up the folks. Look, you’re going to do a lot of stupid stuff. We, as older siblings, are here to make life a little bit easier on you. Trust me, when I would come home at 3AM it was like WWIII. Now, the ‘rents are over it. You swear in front of them? Nothing. Me? Soap in the mouth. Get a bad grade? You get a “keep trying”. Me? Look, life was hard once I got kicked out of Honor Society. Let’s not talk about the time I had to go to court, okay? Point is: I’ve done it, they’ve dealt with it. You’re in the clear.

Weird.

Torture you, obviously. There are ten years and nine months between my sister and me. That’s a lot of years, so I was basically a built-in babysitter. It was cool, though. I liked spending time with the little ankle-biter. Also, I liked to jump out from behind things and scare her.  It was a game I played. Mostly with myself, though. Of course, when she was crying that just meant I got to comfort her and make her feel better…then do it again. That’s what older siblings are for: to make you fear for your life and then make sure you are safe. Basically, I’d die for you, but in the meantime I’m going to make your life a living hell, okay?

I used to be taller than her!

You’re our slave. As I’m writing this right now my sister is washing my dishes. Enough said, right? But really, as older siblings we really need someone to wait on us. When she’s done, I hope she makes me some coffee.

To be best friends, duh. Being so many years apart was fun for the most part, but eventually our relationship changed. I moved out and moved away, but now that we’re both adults (kind of), it’s pretty cool. Siblings (and cousins) are like our first best friends, a built-in person to share your secrets, sadness, accomplishments, and stories with.

Besties 4Life.

L-O-V-E. Sibling love is special. Like, who else is going to put up with your shit and still like you all the time? We are weird and messed up and sometimes normal, but no one understands you like a brother or sister. (Sorry if you’re an only child. You can borrow my sister anytime.) No one knows what you’ve been through like them.

The family that serves together... 

I was born first, and so were millions of other siblings. We did it for you, you young whippersnappers, get over it.

Of course.