Friday, August 25, 2006

Archives: In Loving Memory of the Celestial Body Formerly Known as the Planet Pluto

August 25, 2006 - Friday

My day began exceptionally cheerfully. I awoke with a smile on my face...a rarity to say the least. I arrived at work with no major problems thus far in my day, and I signed on to my homepage at work, as is the norm for me. I always check the headlines and see what has been happening in the world. I have trouble with newspapers...they are too big and i always get them all mangled. There's no way for me to mess up a news website, though...so that is my source of choice.


As I scrolled through the top headlines covering various issues from the morning after pill, to crisis in the middle east, to terrorism, to vengeance for a young girls' alleged killer, one particular headline caught my eye:

Pluto Demoted



"Hmm," I thought. "I wonder if that has something to do with Disney. So I clicked and that's when my day started to grow sour.

The opening line of the story was all I needed to read. Pluto, the ninth planet in our solar system, has been downgraded to a dwarf planet.

My chest began to feel tight, and my breathing was becoming increasingly sporatic and uncontrolled. I felt a heaviness on my shoulders as I began to think about that poor, lonely planet, hanging out there on the edge of our solar system...too cold to support life, too dark to reveal its beauty...and I began to weep on the inside.

How could they do this? They can't just "decide" something is not a planet anymore! Are they just going to throw out everything I ever learned in grade school? Who defines what a "planet" is anyway? It's just not fair. I've grown up knowing Pluto, loving it...Dreaming about the day when our technology could one day take us there. How can they just throw everything away like that?

Well, Pluto, you will always be a planet in my heart. Some scientists at Nasa can't determine your worth...and I, for one, am going to take a stand against this injustice! Let's stand up for Pluto and Pluto-kind.

...and that feeling lasted for about 5 minutes...until I recalled that the last time the planet Pluto had crossed my mind must have been back in grade school...

Oh well...no harm, no gain. I'm over it.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Archives: What Did Rod Stewart Ever Do to Anyone?

August 24, 2006 - Thursday
Current mood: grateful

I have a bad habit...it could get me into a lot of trouble, actually. It is one that, when this particular thought enters my mind, it sets up camp and vows not to leave until I give it full attention. It eats at the fiber of my very existence, begging me, screaming at me, pleading, groveling...doing whatever is necessary to make me take note....It's getting my hair cut. What did you think?

Life can be fine one minute, and then a sideways glance in the mirror sets this world of follicle obsession into motion. It starts out innocently enough, "Wow. It's been a long time since I got my hair cut." Just a fleeting thought for the first few hours, until I see myself in the mirror again and think, "Wow. My hair looks really bad today." And then I begin sort of combing through it with my fingers (I know that when I begin the finger-comb, I've been had). My eyes suddenly begin to focus on everyone else's hair. From co-workers, to celbrities, to people I pass in the hallway...I think, "I like her hair." "Wow. That guy has a cool style." "Maybe I should try that." And then my trips to the mirror become more frequent. I begin imagining what my hair might look like short and spiky, or punky, or black or red...And the climactic culmination of the story, the defining moment that calls me into action. I return to the mirror for one more glance, "Oh my gosh, I think I have a mullet!"

For me this process began last Friday. I assumed no salons would be open Friday, so I resolved to hold myself off until Saturday. And Saturday morning, when I began calling places in the area, I forgot that I am in a large, metropolitan city, and Saturday hair appointments must be made weeks in advance. My friends tell me to go to Supercuts...I decided to wait a little longer.

And then Monday came...after realizing that Mondays are Sundays for salons...because Sundays are like Saturdays...because Saturdays are like Fridays and so on, I was still determined to achieve my makeover.

I remembered going to Wal-Mart to pick up a few necessities the previous weekend. I happened to glance in to the salon there, and took note that all the women working seemed to have very trendy, up to date, cute hair cuts. --Now, I know what you're thinking--but, bear with me. It was in the desperation of the moment, and I had been waiting an entire weekend wearing a mullet on my head.

So I walked into Wal-Mart around 8:00 Monday evening. The stylists I had seen Saturday were nowhere to be found. There were two people working that fateful night: a young girl in her early twenties, with very cute hair; and a large, forty-something man with a black, spiky pseudo-mullet (think, Rod Stewart minus the highlights). I calculated my options. The female stylist was blow-drying a woman's hair...that could take awhile. The male was almost done, and there was one person waiting ahead of me. Good. If everything went according to plan, I would be able to have the female stylist.

As I walked in to the salon, I stood in the lobby...I didn't know what to do and no one acknowledged me, so I just figured it must be because of my mullet. Then the man finished with his customer. And while I was still standing there, two little Latino boys approached the counter. The male stylist looked right past me and told the first little boy to come over to his chair. I then asked the Rod Stewart look-alike whether I should just go sit in the waiting area or what.

Rod kindly apologized and explained he didn't know I was waiting. He instructed me to sign in and they would be with me shortly. Little did he know that I was secretly vying for the female stylist...so I wasn't upset in the least. I told him, "Oh, that's okay. I know it won't take long to give those little boys their haircuts. I don't mind."

After the boys were finished, the Rod kindly approached me again and explained that he was scheduled to leave at 8:30. There was still one more gentleman waiting. Rod asked me if it was okay for the guy waiting to go ahead of me, since he just needed his hair buzzed, and then the female stylist would be with me as soon as possible. I was thinking this evening was all working in my favor...until the gentleman waiting smirked (and I would almost swear he kind of scoffed, too) and said, "Oh. I'm waiting for her," and motioned to the female stylist. My mind immediately began to race. "Come on, Nicole...Think of a quick solution. You don't want this mullet-man Rod Stewart guy cutting your hair...think...think...THINK."

"Oh...It's alright. I don't want to keep you. Why don't you just go, and I'll wait...really I don't mind," I said.

Rod responded by saying, "No. Come on. I'll stay late. Let me cut your hair. What style are you thinking about?"

"Well. I really don't want to keep you. I'm sure you have other things you could be doing, and I would hate to have to stay late to cut someone's hair."

"Is that the style you were thinking about?" he said as he pointed to the Snips 'N Styles 2002 book I had sitting in my lap.

"Uh...well...yeah...either that one or this one here. But, really, I don't mind waiting. I would hate to keep you from your plans tonight." I thought I would give it one last shot.

"Well, I would go with this one here (Rod pointed to one of the two hairstyles I had shown him.)...because your hair is kind of like mine (at this point, Rod began pointing to his hair and demonstrating how it was kind of wild and sticking every which way."
"Thanks." I thought. "Great...Now I already have a mullet...and I'm going to get my hair styled by another mullet-wearer...and he's going to give me an even bigger mullet than I already have because he thinks mullets are cool!" I politely smiled and looked at the female stylist...begging her to rescue me from my impending doom under the shears of Rod Stewart!

"Come on over. I'll stay late. You've been so patient with letting those kids go before you and everything. It's the least I could do. You deserve it."

"Are you sure?" This was my last ditch effort to save myself from another season of mulletdom.

"Yeah, yeah....Come on. Have a seat and keep that book open."

Well, as it turns out, Rod (whose actual name I will not disclose for protection purposes) is actually a decent stylist. There are a few problem areas I may have touched up somewhere, but I think the overall haircut is very cute. It's versatile. I can go curly for an "I just rolled out of bed, but still look cute because curly-haired people always look cute." look...or I can straighten it by either curling it under, for a sleek, sophisticated look (by far the most elegant, yet most difficult to execute), or I can go a little rocker-chick and flip up the back and wear it kind of messy (which is the easiest and cutest of all three options).

So, the lessons I learned were these:
1. A $12.50 haircut is just as good as a $45.00 one.
2. The mystery stylist who looks like Rod Stewart may have questionable taste in his own hair, but he is a fine stylist for others.
3. I need to stop trying to get out of potentially pride-crushing situations, and start rolling with the punches....it produces humility.

So the next time you're in Wal-Mart, think about stopping on in to the Smart Styles Salon. Don't knock it til you've tried it...and tell them i sent you.

Wednesday, August 2, 2006

Archives: True Beauty Comes From Without

August 2, 2006 - Wednesday
Current mood: enthralled

I just finished re-reading The Martyr's Song by Ted Dekker. It always serves as an important reminder of where my eyes are and where they need to be.

I have always struggled with issues of self image. Sometimes I get cocky...I start to compare myself to other women, "my eyes are prettier than hers." "she has a really bad complexion." "that girl has a better body, but I have a better face."

Other times I drill myself into the ground. "wow, i'm the fattest girl in this room" "don't even bother looking for any clothes in this store, they won't fit you" "i really look ugly today"

More recently, I have found myself with very poor self-esteem. My weight gain since college has left me feeling like I have been swallowed by a large, fleshly blob, and that nobody could ever possibly consider me attractive. I have gone back and forth with my self image for years now. Sometimes I am too in love with myself, and other times I despise myself. I have dieted before, but have never become overtly obsessed with it. But obsession has set in over the past couple of months. Being in Florida in the height of bikini season hasn't helped much, either. Questions keep pounding in my head. -how could i have gained so much? -why do i keep eating? -why is it so hard for me to stay disciplined? -would it hurt that much to skip one or two meals? Those girls in bikinis over there must think I am a disgusting pig. I wonder what the waiter will think if I order that. And every time I look in the mirror, I see Ugly staring back at me screaming, "How could you let yourself get like this? No man will ever find you attractive when you look like this! What's the point of even putting on make up or fixing your hair? It won't help that much"

So I avoid mirrors as much as possible. And I try to tell myself it doesn't matter. Society keeps telling me that outward beauty isn't important...only what's inside matters. But if that's the case, why are there so many highway billboards plastered with perfect looking blondes with their hair blowing in the wind just so? And why are there no heavy people on television...and if there are, they are always the butt of everyone's jokes (no pun intended)? And why does the chubby girl never get the guy at the end of the story? They're sending me a mixed message. I chalk it up to them wanting to get more ratings, so they put the prettier ones in the lead roles. And I begin my serach for inner beauty.

As I start to reflect on my own "inner", I am surprised by all of the dirt I must uncover before I find the true beauty. I am a person who is filled with anger, jealousy, comparison, judgment, condemnation, hatred, competitiveness. And I realize I'm ugly on the inside, too. My whole life I have been told to look inside myself to find true beauty, but beauty doesn't live there, either.

So I have decided (thanks to the help of Mr. Dekker's book) that to find my true beauty, I will have to look beyond myself. Nothing about me, in and of myself, is beautiful. I am a dirty, broken, groveling being in need of redemption. So I must look to the Creator of beauty itself, who, incidentally is also the Creator of me. If I can somehow manage to see myself in light of heaven, my true home, the way my Maker sees me, then and only then will I be able to embrace my own beauty.

--by the way, when I refer to heaven, I don't mean a place I'll be after I die...I mean living in God's presence. In the constant and eternal presence of His love and His glory. If I was created to be beautiful in that place, surely I can be beautiful in a place filled with sin and condemnation.
But how do I do that? How can I possibly see myself as God sees me?

I believe the answer lies in the way I see others. If I stop looking at others as pretty, ugly, skinny, fat, mean, nice, stupid, smart...and start seeing them as fellow Creations by God...If I stop labeling and start loving, then I wil begin seeing people through God's eyes of love. If I stop focusing on bikini girls and longing to be as thin as them, and start setting my eyes on their hearts. And as I begin to pour out my own love for others, maybe I will start to look a little different, too.

The source of any beauty I possess is God. And I'm not going to find it through extreme dieting and obsessive calorie counting, nor will I find it by gorging myself on apathy and fast food. I will see it if I become a reflection of God's beauty and love shining through me.

I would like to urge everyone to read this book. It is such a quick read, but so impactful.

So now when I look in the mirror, I still struggle a little. But I am slowly retraining my mind to wrap itself around the idea that my true beauty is held in the eyes of my Creator, who made that powerful and majestic ocean I can hear right now, and the firey and captivating sunset I watched earlier. And I'm not just beautiful on the inside, I'm breath taking to Him...physically. He loves to gaze upon my beauty. And I love to gaze upon His.

The next time you start to wonder about this societal dichotomy of inner and outward beauty...how we are fed such inconsistencies and watered-down messages by everything from tv, to advertisements, to people walking down the street...remind yourself that beauty is something that is beyond this world. God isn't limited to perfect hair and perfect curves. God isn't limited to an hour long drama. God isn't limited to porcelain skin and designer clothing. God is the Creator of beauty. Look to Him to find yours. Don't settle for anything less.