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Hulu & 16-Year-Old-Me

I’ve been watching a show on Hulu called ”Dating Tips from My Future Self”. It’s a fun, quirky, short show (each episode is 10 minutes or less!) about this girl who works for an App developer. She shares an idea one day in staff meeting about an app that helps you make decisions— a Customized Magic 8 Ball, if you will. Well, the idea quickly gets shot down as ridiculous. Yet, later that same day, she gets a text message from an UNKNOWN number, who we quickly discover is her 10-years-in-the-future-self, telling her to dump her current boyfriend/almost-fiancee because he’s a jerk. Only 4 episodes in, we find out he IS an actual jerk (I mean, who calls his fiancee “childish”?!) and so many doors have been opened for them. Of course you just have to ignore the whole space/time continuum issues…. but overall I think it’s a brilliant idea!

Now, I know I missed my “official” day to post a letter to my teenage self, so I hope the other girls at Via forgive me, but here is my attempt:

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Dear Me,

The summer of your sixteenth birthday is going to be amazing. Really, it’s going to be the kickstart of your life and knowing how things are going to be nearly fourteen years later (yes, you’re alive at the age of almost-30!) I can tell you that it’s certainly worth it. This summer you’re going to travel A LOT, get your first boyfriend, and find your life’s calling. But you’re going to experience all of that soon enough. What I’d like to do is give you a few rules to follow in the coming years— and I know how much you like rules!

Rule #1: Break some rules! Not big ones, mind you. We don’t want to know what life is like in prison, now do we? No. But bend some. Stay out late, don’t do an assignment, skip class (for reasons outside of Yearbook and Hi-STEP). Learn to have a little fun.

Rule #2: Don’t be so serious! Seriously. Lighten up. You’re so serious about grades and boyfriends and work and sports and friends that there’s no time to really experience a lot. 

Rule #3: Don’t get too involved/attached too quickly. You haven’t met your first boyfriend yet so you don’t know what I’m talking about, but you soon will. You will NOT marry him. Or the one (or two or three or four) after that. Believe me, waiting for the one we eventually marry is TOTALLY. WORTH. EVERY. MOMENT. And you’ll probably cry less. Especially your senior year. Trust me.

Rule #4: Don’t date that guy your junior year of college. It was a bad idea. Everyone knows it, they just won’t tell you until AFTER you break up with him. 

Rule #5: Travel as much as possible. I’ll tell you right now that going the places we’ve been is life altering— especially Africa the summer after your sophomore year of college. It’s important to get those stamps in your passport. It’ll mean something in the future to look back at all the places you went BY YOURSELF. And it’ll make it easier planning trips in the future— you won’t be so scared to go to far off wonderful places. 

Rule #6: Learn how to wear make-up. And tweeze your eyebrows. LIKE NOW. Fo realz, yo. Get yourself a nice, sharp pair and a magnifying mirror and go to town. 

I’m sure there’s more I can/should tell you but I’m not going to. A little bit of mystery is important in life. But know this: You have an absolutely wonderful life here in 2012. You have a husband who loves you, a job that has it’s quirks but is awesome altogether, and a home full of animals that’s warm and just what you make it. 

So happy sweet 16, me. Enjoy the daisies from your folks and the balloons in your hair at TGIFriday’s… but be careful walking to the bathroom— there’s a ceiling fan in that restaurant that might just rip out all that hair if you’re not careful!

Love, The-Almost-30-You

This has been cross-posted at my personal blog, WaltersWorld

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Letter to My Teenage Self

Dear 16 year old Me,

I’ve watched enough time-travel themed science fiction to be a little terrified to write this letter.  If a butterfly flaps its wings and all that, you know what I mean. I love the life that I am living right now enough to not want to change a single thing about the past that brought me here.  Which should be encouraging to you since this awesome life will someday be yours.  

But it also sort of sucks for you, 16 year old Me, because things are not going to be easy.  Along with being fantastically awesome, they are going to be complicated and painful and confusing.  No matter how scared I am of accidentally changing my now by changing the past, I do very much want to take the edge off some of the hurt you are going to experience.

So maybe just some suggestions for you along the way.

You are a nerd.  Not a cool kid, a nerd.  The sooner stop fighting it, embrace eality and sort of just lay back into it, the better it will be for you and for everyone around you.  Believe it or not, at some point in the future it will be fantastically cool to be nerdy and you will take great pride in your nerdy sensibility.

You will never stop hating to exercise.  Suck it up and do it anyway. 

Don’t date a boy just because he shows interest or because it is convenient.  And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.  *Give you the knowing grown up stare*  It just keeps ending up the way it has so far.  Instead, pursue the boys you like even if they don’t like you back.  Learn how to flirt and talk to them with some level of confidence, because if you can do that, you are going to end up a lot less bitter and more able to build relationships with guys in the future.

Don’t paint your room that color!  It will forever look like you live inside of a pastel dinner mint. 

You are going to hate this next bit, and I’m sorry for that.  If it helps, I don’t want to write it very much either.  You need to break some rules.  Not big ones.  Don’t commit any felonies or permanently injure yourself pulling some sort of crazy stunt.  But you and I both know you are way, WAY too uptight for a 16 year old and scared to disappoint the people you love and you create these rules in your head because you think rules give you some kind of control in keeping everything the way it is supposed to be.  It doesn’t work that way.  I’m just finding out at almost 30 that doing things as perfectly as you can doesn’t automatically mean your life will be perfect.  So ask to go to that concert.  Dye your hair some crazy color.  Buy clothes with some character.  Make new friends.  Pierce something.  Don’t get out of the habit of wearing makeup.  Go out on the weekends.  Oh, and consequently, Mom and Dad are totally okay with you getting out there a little bit.  Christina and Alex are going do it and they don’t even bat an eyelash.

Invest in really nice suitcases.  You are going to get to travel a lot in the future and the only bummer will be your crappy suitcases.

Don’t stop writing.  You’ll get better the more you do it.

If you know nothing else, know that even when things get tough and you are unsure, you are never alone and you are always loved.  You have a great family, great friends now and in the future.  It won’t change what’s going on around you, but it will get you through.  

Oh, and don’t grow your hair out.  It looks good short, just learn to part it to the side.  

Good luck,

Future Julianna

This is also posted at my blog, Senseless Proportion.

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Tips about Hair: A Letter to My Teenage Self on the Eve of My Graduation

Dear Hannah,

Happy graduation day! In a few morning, you’ll be waking up and beginning your day and getting ready to celebrate the momentous achievement of graduating high school.

Here are a few tips:

1) About two hours before you take your shower, the well will go dry, prompting you to have to go to a neighbor’s house to shower and your church to blow dry your hair. Your hair. Will. Look. Ridiculous (Since you’re living in 2000 and I’m from the future, you probably don’t know about the period. after. every. word. phenomenon. Get. Excited.) So, shower right away after you wake up. THAT way the person you were going to have fix your hair can do it so that for all the rest of your life, your graduation pictures won’t have you resembling a lady with a furry animal attacking her head.

Also: how about you discover mousse sooner than 2005? It’s too late for high school, but that will help with the big hair dilema all through college. I promise.

2) Go to the graduation party at Julie’s house. I know, I know… I’m encouraging you to break the laws! But, seriously, go, be social. The good, cautious girl that you are probably won’t have anything but soda and it will probably give you some good opportunities to spend time with friends you won’t see any more in not so short a time. It could also give you the opportunity to have a really fun summer and let’s face it, your two closest friends are seriously dating boys and spoiler alert (you don’t know about those either, do you?) they’re going to get married to them and you don’t really keep in touch with them after freshmen year of college or hang out with them much Summer of 2000 either. So. Go hang out with Kari and Katie and the Travises. You’ll be glad you did. 

Now—about college:

Here’s the deal. Please, please, please, dear God please, don’t cut your hair off the week before. You will not look as chic as you think and it will be very high maintenance and you will spend the rest of the year growing it back to a proper length. Plus, Nebraska is cold, yo. And if the first warning isn’t enough… cutting it and dying it red during your Junior year does not suit you either. TRUST ME. 

You’re going to love college (which is probably no surprise to you). You’re going to love the new people, the learning— academia in general. You’re going to meet some really awesome lifelong friends that you’ll keep in touch until at least 2012 when you’re on the cusp of turning 30. Invest in those friendships, learn how to handle drama constructively, go on adventures with that Matt boy (but don’t date him) you meet second semester, read lots of interesting books, figure out a way to study abroad, work at Camp CILCA, just have some experiences! Gain some confidence in yourself and who you are—because, honey, you’re pretty awesome. 

Remember that most challenges are able to be overcome. You’ll go through a few of them from 18 until 30, but if you remember to handle them with grace and patience, it’ll serve you well. Also, don’t buy that VW Beetle in 2005. That is a really bad purchase. Pay off your student loans and THEN sell Leon (your neon). 

It may also surprise you that at some point in your late 20’s, that you’ll discover that you like being fit. You’ll start running and working out and lifting weights (yes, really). 

The other thing: I know that you’re anxious to find someone to date and marry. I understand that, I really do, but give that some time. It will also take longer than you think it should. But: It’ll get really good. Just wait for it. If I could offer some advice—keep an open mind around September 9, 2011. Say yes to a second date. Settle down. Enjoy it. 

Mostly, teenage Hannah, know that how you choose to respond to situations and with whom you choose to invest your time are going to be huge for you. Pick the friends with whom you feel the most comfortable, with whom you are inspired, encouraged and challenged (you’ll have an opportunity to be part of the “cool crowd” in college and be friendly, but don’t become dependent on that. The friends that you keep are the friends you made those first few weeks of college.)

See you in 2012, 

Hannah 

This post is crossposted at hannahlysis.

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Past Script

This fortnight’s topic for Via Scribendi is “A Letter to my Teenaged Self”—which is great, truly. I’m very much looking forward to seeing what the women I write with have to say if they could “turn back time.” Many of them work with teens and pre-teens every day, and, I’m sure, have often reflected on what they would have done differently and what they’d like to tell today’s teens from the long-term perspective.

I, however, have little to say to teenage me. She was academic, a late bloomer, and sometimes painfully annoying, but no more so than most teenagers. There was typical teenage angst, most centering around a cross-state move right before my senior year. More than anything, I wish I had handled that move with more maturity and grace, but you can’t develop maturity and grace without painful moments like that year provided.

I’d tell myself to be more outgoing, but I’d rather appreciate the introvert that dug deeply into the topics which interested her—personality theory, neurology, biology. I remember and appreciate the friends I had through high school, and I don’t especially miss the friendship opportunities I passed over.

I’d tell myself to take French I my freshman year, but it’s just so I could discover my love of learning languages a year earlier. My college didn’t offer French, and I’m awfully glad I went there so I didn’t miss out on much. Hebrew, Greek, Akkadian, and Ugaritic didn’t suffer from a lack of French grammar and vocabulary. (Actually, fluency might be helpful for the last two because the earliest grammars are written in French, but I’m still pretty sure one more year of high school French wouldn’t have helped.)

I might tell myself to try out for cheerleading freshman year. I’m still not sure I would have been athletic enough to do all four years, but I would have had a better shot. And it sounds much cooler to have cheered in high school than to have cheered in grade school. But I wouldn’t have played Field Hockey and that sounds pretty cool too. (I was horrible, but…)

I’m glad I didn’t date. I have regrets from my first two boyfriends (which did occur in my teenage years—the college part of it), but I didn’t screw myself up too badly, and I deeply adore my husband—a relationship product of my 20s. I wish I had been a little bit less concerned about dating, more interested in figuring out teenage boys as people. But that too is a maturity thing that I just can’t ask my teenaged self to achieve.

I’d tell myself to whine less. But then my teenaged self would say “Pot, meet kettle!” And I’d say, “Oh, snap!”

The overall impression I get from my teenage years is anticipation—the gathering of experiences and growing up that would find fruition in college. I choose to remember my high school years as those of a late bloomer. The work that was being done under the surface—foundations for lifelong friendships, learning about my parents as people, life skills that I never seem to acquire enough of—all happened quietly with little intervention on my part whether of high school age or retrospective.

And while I can’t claim that high school was the best time of my life, I can tell my (future) children that the teenage years happen and whether they are great or not, they’re worthwhile.

—Bethany

I’ve crossposted at my blog, The Dimly Seen

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Time Flies

The older I get the quicker time moves. I sat down to write the seems-to-be-obligatory “Year In Review” post and I couldn’t really remember anything of importance happening in 2011. Of course I know that’s not true—We celebrated our 3rd anniversary, I finished grad school, we renovated our kitchen (actually, STILL doing that…), we got closer to being debt free, I bought a “new” car, we had friends visit, friends’ babies were born, one of my “kids” got married, had an awesome summer retreat with my “kids”… and I could go on. But for some reason it took me looking back through my planner to figure most of that out! What’s wrong with this?! I’m only 29!

So, I’m hoping to focus more on be really present in the moment this year. Not necessarily through some sort of resolution (those never really stick anyways) but because I want to be able to sit down next January able to recount my favorite moments. Some of the things I’m looking forward to:

·         Reading some (Most? All?) of the 95 books on my list,

·         FINALLY. FINISHING. THIS. RENOVATION.
(and having drawers in my kitchen again for the first time since May)

·         Building some furniture, since I got this for Christmas

·         Get into a healthy routine with food & exercise

Here’s hoping 2012 doesn’t fly by without me noticing!

(This has bee cross-posted at WaltersWorld)

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2011: How Buying a Chair Brought Me Love… and Other True Stories

My friend Kathy bought a Christmas Tree. 

During her last single Christmas, she decided that it was silly to hang around waiting for the husband, home and 2.3 kids to buy a real-sized Christmas tree. She wanted one then and she was going to get it because she was a grown up and she could do what she wanted! Several months later, she met the man that she would marry and with whom she would spend all her upcoming Christmases. (Christmases that now include 2 awesome, rowdy, funny, wonderful kids). 

My friend Sarah decided that she was going to move to New York, my friend Jamie started looking for houses when they met their significant others.

Me? As the title to this post alludes… I bought a chair. A wonderful, comfy, cozy butter yellow chair.

Earlier this year, after some disappointing news about a job offer I had hoped would work out, I started to think about what life would look like if I were to deepen my roots here in OKC and to learn to be content. I figured that meant a couple of things:

1) Making the place I lived a place I wanted to be and a place I wanted other people to be. 

2) Having a friend (or two) that crossed into all my worlds (Convergence, ReThread, Running, Church/work, etc.)

3) Living in such a way that I was doing the things I wanted.

So, when I went home at the end of July, after having bought a brand new computer and tickets to Europe, I bought a chair. The first piece of furniture that I bought that I really liked and was excited to have in my apartment. On the heels of booking a trip to Europe and a new computer, life was getting very exciting.

Soon after I returned from Illinois, I volunteered to be in charge of ReThread, started running and training with a friend of mine from church, and started opening myself up to more opportunities here in the city. 

And then: As timing would have it, I met someone at the end of August. Someone who was “maybe-a-someone,” until a Wednesday in October when he became “officially-a-someone,” after a few months of friendship, a shopping trip to whole foods, an I Heart Boobies bracelet, European puns, legos, and the most fun first date I’d ever had. 

Now that we’re firmly in 2012, I look back on 2011 as the year that brought me a lot of really wonderful, amazing experiences (most of which I’ve written about in my top ten list), but the best thing about 2011 has been this new, exciting relationship with the person with whom I hope to be sharing the rest of my moments.

And I owe it all to that butter yellow, comfy, cozy chair. 

Crossposted at Hannahlysis

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The Year of Books

I will remember 2011 as the year of the books. First and foremost because I rang out the old year by finishing my 200th book of the year (Lutheranism 101 for those keeping track). But there are other reasons too. I started reading ebooks seriously. I reclaimed my serious love of adolescent literature. I kicked butt at Summer Reading. And I set a reading plan and (almost) finished it.

Last January, my library science class of choice was “Library Materials and Literature for Young Adults.” Part of the course structure was to read and discussion 25 YA books. That’s a lot in general, but then I’d learn about new books that didn’t fit into my reading plan for class and squeeze those books in. Or I’d get tired of YA and need to read something else. By the end of the class in May, I had read 20 more books than I had at that time in 2010. I discovered some great books: The Book ThiefHold Me Closer, Necromancer, Feed to name a few.

Then there was my reading plan. It was my way of rebelling against being told what to read for 4 months. (Even though I liked many of the YA books, but I’m a fantasy/historical/sci-fi/dystopian/fairy-tale-retelling girl. Keep those realistic and non-fiction books to yourself.) I didn’t really know what I was getting into when I decided to read everything Madeleine L’Engle ever published, but I knew I’d need James Bond and Harry Potter to balance it out—which turned out to be a good call. That it landed at the same time as the Summer Reading program was a bonus. I realized I didn’t agree with everything L’Engle said, but that was okay. And I appreciated reading the series that produced so many tropes of secret agent fiction and enjoyed (rather than seethe at) the rampant chauvinism, racism, and colonialism. I really enjoyed Moonraker and cried at the end of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (the movie is nothing like the book). It was a great summer that ended with a Nook!

After such a dedicated burst of reading (in the midst of Library Science classes and working full-time), I was burned out. I caught up on magazines, read fluff, and tried not to be obsessed with reaching 200 books. But when you’ve reached your previous year total in July, it’s hard not to think that just a little bit more could push you over. I returned to my Top 100 lists for some inspiration (BBC Reads, Times, Great Reads, and YA Books for the Feminist Reader).

And so I squeezed reading into every nook and cranny of my time. I rarely left the house without the book I was currently reading. Read before bed, during my dinner break at work, in the car when I was early to places. It was a year immersed in the written word. And now I’m going to be happy and done.

One of my library blogs noted the trend of the reading recap and proudly proclaimed she did not keep track of her books because she didn’t want the pressure of competition. I get that. My type-A personality does pay attention to the numbers. But I like the record too much to stop making my lists. I’d like to do something radical like commit to only reading 12 books this year, but that wouldn’t be fun. And reading should be fun. (Plus I already have 11 books on my library holds list—what a bummer if I couldn’t read them.) However, I’d like to be content with not hitting a number. With reading as I can and what I enjoy. The Book of Concord is on my list this year. A couple YA series are in the works. My “To Be Read” shelf is near capacity. So those are my half-goals. Anything else is bonus.

—Bethany

I’ve crossed posted at my blog, The Dimly Seen.

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2011: The Year after the Waiting

For you to understand the gravity of what 2011 means, you have to understand what happened in 2008-2010.  Now, most of you reading this were with me through this crazy couple of years and I am incredibly thankful for you.  However, you are about to be very bored by this next bit so feel free to jump down to the good stuff.  

For those of you just joining me, let me give you a quick run down of the last couple of years.  In 2008, I took a new Call to a new city (Chicago) and a new congregation.  Things were good.  Chicago is awesome.  Looking at starting a Master’s Degree.  Pastor resigned.  Ministry got stressful!  (There are not enough exclamation points to describe this level of stress.)  Put aside school and pretty much everything else but eating and sleeping for work.  Church money was tight and there were staff cutbacks.  Ministry got more stressful!  I tried dating which turned out to be an epic failure.  I tried dieting which turned out to be an epic failure.  I didn’t budget well so that was pretty much an epic failure.  Life got really hard and more than once I considered a life of monastic hermit-ism.   

Through all of this, my mantra was just keep being faithful until it gets better.  My sole focus was being faithful to my Call and to the community with which God had blessed me.  The people here were amazing and we worked together through it all.  But I did not plan for the future or think about what as going to happen once I got through that time.  I was in a holding pattern of hanging on and making it work until…frankly, I wasn’t entirely sure what was at the other end of this thing, but it was better, healthier, something else.  

In 2011, unexpectedly and beautifully life and ministry found their footing and turned around.  I bought my first new (to me) car that is safe to drive to the people I love.  My church got our new permanent pastor who is an amazing teammate and the kind of shepherd I could have only dreamed of having for our community.  I got crafty and made a bunch of new stuff in new ways to fill my need to do something else.  I went back to school to study something I love even though I have no idea what I’m going to do with this degree when I get it.  I cut my hair and everyone seems to think it looks great.  Our church combined our school with three other Lutheran churches and I got way more kids to love now.  

2011 was the year that I stopped having to wait for something better to finally happen.  Something shifted and I realized that I wasn’t waiting for things to change anymore.  It was here and I could just take the leap and go.  I don’t regret a minute of how God grew me in those difficult years, because it made the blessing of this year so much sweeter.  

2011 jump started my heart and my mind to do even more in 2012.  The way life changed and grew in 2011 means that 2012 is going to hold what I hope is going to be some more amazing change.  (There is a plan for 2012 in progress which I will reveal soon.  Going to be Great!)

But 2011 was a year full of new stuff, a year full of change.  It was a turning point year and I have never felt more grateful for the life and the blessings God has so richly poured out to me.  And that includes all of you.  Thank you and Happy New Year!

This blog is also posted on my blog Senseless Proportion where I write other things that amuse me.    

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2011: The Year I Lost My Belly Button (Among Other Things)

Or, 2011: The Year of the Baby

When 2011 began, I wasn’t thinking much—if at all—about my belly button. It was there. It was an innie. And it had a little freckle on one side of it. But it really didn’t enter into my thoughts at all.

Babies, on the other hand, did enter into my thoughts. We weren’t trying to get pregnant, but we also weren’t trying not to. As 2011 began and I wondered what the year would bring, I did wonder if it would bring a baby.

January began, and I wondered. February began, and I still wondered. March began, and I wondered again.

But March brought other excitements. I got to buy a fancy new computer. We went on vacation. I broke my old computer and had to wait two weeks for the new computer to show up. I wondered how I was supposed to work without a computer. And then at the same time that my new computer showed up, I started wondering about babies again, and about one very specific baby that would join our family in November.

I still didn’t think much about belly buttons, but as the months passed and as my belly got bigger, I began to lose my belly button. It became less of an innie. The freckle got bigger. And in August, when I visited my family in Texas, this happened:

My niece, who was almost two, was spending the night at my parents’ house. She showed off her belly button, and then wanted to see her Poppy’s belly button. Then she wanted to see Gram’s belly button. And then she turned to me, so I showed her mine. She took a step away from me, a puzzled look on her face. “Aunt Sherrah’s belly button is all gone,” Gram said. “All gone?” the niece asked. Then she made the rounds again, and when she came back to me, she shrugged and said, “All gone.”

My belly button wasn’t the only thing I lost while pregnant:

  • I lost my memory. (Babies eat brain cells.)
  • I lost my ankles. (And my feet looked like water balloons.)
  • I lost my immune system. (And caught every cold that walked by me.)
  • I lost feeling in my right hand. (Did you know pregnancy can cause carpal tunnel syndrome? Supposedly it goes away after baby’s birth. Supposedly…)
  • I lost sleep. (Four trips to the bathroom every night will do that to you.)

But in spite of all the losses, I gained something amazingly sweet and precious and very, very dear to me: my son. And so, 2011 for me is the year of baby, the year of family, the year of an amazing gift, the year of lost things, and the year of gained things.

—Sherrah

Cross-posted at sherrahbehrens.com.

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Future Progressive

Life is changing. In wonderful, new, amazing ways.

Christmas, for me, the churchworker, has developed a really interesting rhythm over the last 7 years that I’ve been in Oklahoma. Because Christmas is a “work day” for me, Christmas’s big tradition has been Christmas Eve service here (which I love) seeing my church family with a member or two of my family and then driving or flying to meet the rest of my family for the rest of the week.

What it ends up meaning is that there isn’t a whole lot of traditions that have been made here and Christmas ends up being transitorial. (It’s a word because I say so) And while, the memories that I have as a child are pretty awesome (TIME TRAVELERS! “Cartwheel through the wormhole!”), those seem sometimes like a dream from another time or another me. 

In the last few weeks, 6 to be exact, I’ve been caught up in the whole idea of new and of firsts. The future progressive tense. With the introduction of someone new, Someone Very Important in my life, the future progressive seems really, really, really, really exciting. 

I will be making new Christmas memories. I will be making new Christmas traditions. I will be experiencing a lifetime of wonderful things yet to come. And I will be sharing that life with someone. And that’s the best kind of thing to look forward to. 

This post is cross-posted at Hannahlysis