Well, my dear friends and family in the blogging world, I would like to start this post with a shout out to my Mother. Yo, Mom-o… keep it real. =)

Okay, and now I wanted to declare to my wide world of 4 and 1/2 readers that today Matt and I get keys to our first ever apartment. Now, since all 4 and 1/2 of you know Matt and my situation, I will be re-emphasizing my situation so as not to cause any further confusion if someone else stumbles upon this post and feels that Matt and I are guilty of infidelity charges.

While Matt and I are getting apartment keys… we are not living together until AUGUST 25th!

In other words, Matt and I are not, no, no, no, not, not, not, not, not living together. No, no, no… not, not, not.

But what we are doing is moving in all the furniture that God has blessed us with into a fresh (or nonfresh), new apartment at (see me in person for an inserted address). And that’s way stinkin‘ cool! In the words of this pre-married, happily waiting, family-supported, 24 days countdowning, key-receiving, God-exaulting, unprepared packer, weddingdress fitted, cat petting, apartment messer, nose-running, showerless (thus far) me… “This is gonna be rockin‘ sweet!”

There truly is so much to report and not enough time to report it all to you few faithful readers.

* I just got back from a 6 day Cleveland mission trip with Matt’s church (yes, it still feels like Matt’s church, but it’ll feel like mine soon, I hope. )

* Last night (Sunday) was my last house church. It took a walk and a few tears to feel halfway comfortable with that goodbye.

* Today I have to make a copy of Robin’s key to turn in tomorrow.

* Today I’m meeting with Sarah from Miamisburg to hang out a bit and head over to Sears for some guidance.

* Tonight is class (only 2 more to go- for participation points only) and I will hopefully find out how I did on my final paper.

* Tomorrow I have to turn in my apartment key and I’m officially no longer Robin’s roommate as of tomorrow (only I’ll be living her until August 25th until I get to move in with Matt).

* Tomorrow I get to harass the social work board to find out when I can test for my license.

* Wednesday Matt and I get apartment keys and begin moving furniture into our new apartment. I’d again like to clarify at this point that Matt and I are not moving in together until after our exchange of vows, rings and August 25th festivities. But we do get to move furniture into where Matt will be living in a few weeks and where I will get to live in 25+ days.

* And then the rest of the week will be filled with more packing, more moving, and I’m sure a bunch more random tasks that require my full attention and time.

So, yeah.. that’s it all in a nutshell. Processing and preparations for my new life with Matt are going well. Thank you, Robin, for your patience and your hugs throughout this process called transition.

Thank you, Lord, for your perfect friendship. Thank you for your peace and your rest. I love You.

So Robin’s cat, Boots, is just plain weird. He eats people food… You know, like a dog. Oh and it’s not just dairy items. He’ll eat broccoli, black olives, cereal, dry noodles, and so much more. He also likes to eat plant leaves, sing to himself in particularly echo-friendly sections of the house, hang his paws over the top of Robin’s dresser mirror (from sitting on top), perch on Franklin’s tank, lick the bathtub foam after someone takes a shower, swatt at the bathtub faucet while the water’s on, and a new one as of today… lick the dust off of the blinds in Robin’s room. Yep, he’s a freak. A big, fat ol‘ freak.

Thank you, Jes. You’ve been a wonderful friend to me throughout this transition. And your humor really helped. I love you so much. Thanks man for being a wonderful sister. Okay, enough with the sappiness… quick, fake cry and embrace.

Oh and in case you forgot… 38 Days!

“The mainstays of the American economy are self-improvement products such as makeup, hair spray, hair coloring, perfume, soap, deodorant, and clothing. Since women are the main buyers of self-improvement products, advertisements are geared to women. Their one purpose is, of course, to sell.

Ads must convince the consumer of her need. To do this, they must first persuade her that she is inadequate and incomplete without a particular product. Advertising preys upon, contributes to, and reinforces a woman’s poor self-image. As a result, powerful and disturbing feelings of inadequacy tug at a woman’s mind-and her checkbook. She buys beauty in the form of soap, attention in the form of perfume, romance in the form of shampoo.

Age spots, split ends, graying hair, and cellulite-fates worse than death, if the media propaganda is to believed. Years ago, women, while conscience of their appearance, didn’t worry about age spots because, thought they had them, they didn’t know what age spots were. And if they did, they weren’t bombarded with warnings about them.

It’s not enough for women to wash and brush their hair. Now they are expected to condition it, dye it, color it, curl it, spray it, mousse it, and cut it in fashionable ways. They change hairstyles about as often as their underwear, which itself comes in a multitude of colors and styles. Woman-recreated in the media’s image.

Not only is today’s woman barraged with this female beauty propaganda, her husband is. Silently, she watches him watch. When she-and he, she supposes-stacks herself up against bronzed bikinied beauties, she sees nothing but a formless slab of whitewashed cellulite. How can she compete? Depression. Stress.

The Christian woman is particularly stressed because she knows that enduring values are spiritual, that character is far more important than appearance, and that while people look at the outside, God looks at the inside. But every time she hears a seminar leader (who is usually beautiful) talk about inner beauty, her mind is on outer beauty. Guilt. Stress. “

– an excerpt from “Women Under Stress” by Randy and Nanci Alcorn

I just thought it was interesting to read during today’s rest time at work. Some areas, sadly, are more on the true side than I’d like to admit.