Breathe in the amazing

Life is amazing. 

And then it's awful. 

And then it's amazing again. 

And in between the amazing and the awful, it's ordinary and mundane and routine. 

Breathe in the amazing, hold on through the awful, and relax and exhale during the ordinary. 

That's just living heartbreaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life. 

And it's breathtakingly beautiful.

- LR Knost

Don't divine things happen every day?

I finished The Next Person You Meet in Heaven this week.

It's a sequel to my favorite book of all time, The Five People You Meet in Heaven.

I can't even describe how perfect this book is. This is the perfect time in my life to read this perfect book.

Headlines.

I love Kansas.

Giant inflatable colon stolen in Kansas

Kansas man accused of stealing cake, vacuum from Dairy Queen

Sometimes I miss writing headlines.

On Jedis and truck stops.

This is going to be nerdy, so please be patient.

The only thing that I really know about Star Wars is that I don't like any of the movies. The Last Jedi was pretty, and I can appreciate that, but that's where my appreciation for all things Star Wars ends.

Anyway, I remember watching Episode 1: The Phantom Menace back in the day in the theater with friends. If I remember right, there had to be some reason I went to that movie. I'm guessing it had to do with a boy band and TRL on MTV.

(God, I'm old.)

Anyway, while on this weekend road trip with my friend friend, he had probably the best description of a Star Wars movie I've ever heard.

First, let's see what Dr. Google says about Episode 1:

When the Trade Federation cuts off all routes to the planet Naboo, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are assigned to settle the matter.

My friend friend has a point: The entire premise of the movie is that these Jedis can't get off of a planet.

In his words: "It's like SEAL Team Six being stuck at a truck stop."

Me: "Maybe they locked their keys in their car. Or maybe their car got stolen."

His words: "You're SEAL Team Six. Call a Black Hawk."

I hate losing arguments, but I have to give him this one.

He's not wrong.

Rainy trip.

"It's like a hipster grenade exploded."

Over the weekend, friend friend and I were walking in downtown Big City.

We saw a sign for a cool restaurant a couple of blocks away, but some girl was hungry, impatient and angry. I suggested a closer restaurant, mostly because it was right in front of my face, and friend friend agreed.

It was a Mexican food joint. Apparently the words "farm to table" were on the sign in front of the business, but I was honestly too hungry to read at that point. (Friend friend says hipsters love the "farm to table" concept and I'm all like...where do they think food comes from? Not a farm?)

We went inside this Mexican restaurant, and I quickly realized this was not only a Mexican food joint, this was a hipster Mexican food joint.

We lost count of how many flannel shirts and manly puffy vests there were around us. Oh, and the big, bushy beards!

When I got dressed that morning, I did not think about how to fit in to the hipster crowd in Big City.
I left my dorky glasses at home and I wasn't wearing flannel.*

I felt sorely out of place, and slightly too old to eat hipster tacos**.

In the words of friend friend: "It's like a hipster grenade exploded."

All I really wanted was a Diet Coke, but this place was way too cool for that. I had a blueberry soda instead.

(A blueberry soda and a taco don't really go well together.)

*We both wore flannel the next night and kind of fit in.

**My taco was tiny, but it was probably the best taco I've ever had. Also, the margarita I had was so strong, I had a dream I made margaritas last night.

I did not take a photo of my hipster tacos, so here's a hipster coffee and some cookies instead.

Human Pickles

Over the weekend I met the human version of Pickles, and the experience did not disappoint.

I'm not sure where I can even begin to describe that sentence, so I guess I should start from the beginning. 

---

I have a dog named Pickles. She is three, she is gray, and she is insanely adorable and happy.

She is so happy, in fact, that sometimes I get mad at her because of her happiness. Pickles loves everything and everyone. Pickles loves every single person she meets, and she loves just about everything in her life.

Pickles loves love.

That's the story of Dog Pickles. The story of Human Pickles is coming up here shortly.

---

A while back, I had a pretty important conversation with my nieces. 

I asked my Mom when it was appropriate to tell the kids (4, 4, and 2) that I was seeing someone. 

Grandma said that now is as good a time as any. 

So I awkwardly explained to my little nieces that their aunt is dating somebody. 

At the time, I thought this was earth shattering news. The food came about 20 seconds later, and suddenly the conversation turned to more important things in life, specifically about where to put ketchup on their plate.

About a week later, I decided to test whether the little girls remembered our conversation. I brought up the fact that I was dating someone to them, and told them his name.

Little K, who is 4 and excited about Halloween, had an important question.

K: Is he a spider?

No, little K. I am not dating a spider.

K: Are you sure?

Yep, kid. I'm pretty sure. 

At that point little K wandered off to do little kid things. I started talking to little L. 

"He's your friend?" she asked me.

Yes, I told her. He is my friend.

"He's your friend friend?"

Yes, child. He is my friend friend. 

---

Over the weekend, my friend friend and I went to a concert. 

At one point during the concert, my friend friend told me he was learning a lot of dance moves from the woman beside him.

I looked over, and when I finally saw it, I could not look way.

This woman was dancing like she had nothing to lose. She was a cute, short women, youngish, a brunette with a pixie hair cut.

She was rocking out the entire time. 

When I finally realized who she reminded me of, I knew I had to tell my friend friend. When I got his attention and started to tell him, all that came out was laughter.

I could not keep a straight face or tell my story. 

After I giggled for a while, I finally got my point across. The lady dancing around and being obnoxiously happy was basically the human version of Pickles. 

We named her Human Pickles. 

When I lost Human Pickles in the crowd, I asked my friend friend where she was. 

He said he didn't know, but when she returned we would both know it, because she would skip back to her place. 

My giggling was epic.

I never thought I'd meet the human version of my dog in another city at a concert, but life can be kind of random like that.

The world needs more people like Human Pickles (and Dog Pickles).

Solid

I don't own nothin' new
I might look like a mess to you
But I'm solid

This ol' thing I drive around
Got some rust, makes some funny sounds
But it's paid for and solid

You may think I'm way too chill
But I get it done, got my daddy's will
And I'll always, I'll always keep a promise

In a great big world, spinnin' around
People walkin' around on shaky ground
My foundation's solid
Like a vessel gettin' tossed on the big blue sea
Tryin' to rock me off my feet
It's you that keeps me solid

Everybody wants me to think like they do
Put my faith in somethin' new
But this old school is tried and true, it's solid

Got these 501's back in '93
Yeah the blue's all gone, you can see my knees
But to me man, they're still solid

This old scarred-up piece of wood
Sounds a lot better than it looks
I can't count the nights that it's caught me when I was fallin'

In a great big world, spinnin' around
People walkin' around on shaky ground
My foundation's solid
Like a vessel gettin' tossed on the big blue sea
Tryin' to knock me off my feet
It's you that keeps me solid

It's been a lotta years since I've taken this road home
It's still not paved Mama and Daddy's gone
But the gravel in my soul is solid

Eric Church
Solid

Revolutionary