A Letter to My 13-Year-Old Self

I turned 31 this week, and I wore the first pair of earrings I got for my 13th birthday - the year I was FINALLY able to get my ears pierced. It got me to thinking about what things were important to me then, and all the life that's happened since I turned the reverse of my current age.

In a stroke of unapologetic cliche, I decided to write my 13-Year-Old self a letter, in the hope that one day a trip in the TARDIS might allow me to deliver it.

Dear 13-Year-Old Charity,

I'm so excited that you just turned 13! I remember that excitement, because I equaled it last year when I - we - turned 30.

What? 30? That seems so old to you, I know. Trust me - it's younger than you can imagine. As much as you're looking forward to being a teenager, believe me - your 30's are better. I mean, you - we - have a driver's license now. And a car. And a college degree. And those piercings in your ears aren't even the only ones in my body. And...well, I can't spoil too much.

I know what you want to know most: you want to know if I'm - you're - married now. Sorry. Spoilers! What I can tell you is that Jesus is enough to satisfy every need. Don't focus so much on getting married and having kids; focus on the fact that Jesus has already proven that He's a provider, by dying on the cross and providing for your salvation, and He proves it every day in a million ways.

You probably also want to know if you went - will go - to college. Yes, you will. But did you ever doubt that, anyway? It's both everything and nothing you expect, so enjoy the ride.

Anyway, I'm writing not only to answer your questions, but also to give you advice. Here are three things I want you to remember always:

1. Focus on the moment. Rather than try so hard to figure out when you're going to graduate, when you're going to college, when you're going to FINALLY get to plan your wedding, just...be. Be where you are, enjoy your youth while you can, and don't waste your teen years by wanting to be 20 already. You just got here. Be here for a while.
2. Focus on other people. Without spoiling anything, let me just say that you take your family relationships too much for granted. You won't always live with your three brothers (oh, sorry, you only have two right now - oops), so get to know them personally and invest in them. You won't always have your sisters, so don't waste any time by arguing about stupid stuff. Your parents won't always be in the same state (or country) as you, so soak up their wisdom and time while you can.
3. Focus on Jesus. You know this, but please start to live it. You are His princess, the daughter He planned before the foundation of the world, His special favorite. Focus on Him, get to know Him, and let His love flow through you to the people around you.

I promise that the things you're wrapped up in now won't last. Braces won't always be on your teeth. The excitement of ear piercing won't always carry you through the day. School isn't even eternally on your horizon. Oh, but doing your own laundry - yeah. Yeah, that's not going anywhere. Welcome to that.

Life will be gloriously difficult, and devastatingly easy. You'll make excellent decisions, which will surprise you. And you'll make stupid mistakes, which really won't matter that much, believe it or not. You'll experience the paradox of having your dreams come true while your plans crumble around you. You'll know utter sorrow and ultimate comfort simultaneously. You'll jump with joy even as a part of you is dying on the inside. You'll go through phases you'll regret and seasons you won't want to end. You'll write, dance, edit, and organize your way through life, and you'll love every minute - even the sucky ones. (Oh yeah, sucky is a word we say now. That's another nice thing about being grown up - you can say words like that.) 

So while I can't (or won't) answer all of your questions about the future, at least you know one thing now: you make it to 31. And the TARDIS is real, which is kind of awesome.

Love,

Future Charity

P.S. If you think about it when you're 19, send the president of Fox TV a letter asking him not to cancel "Firefly." You won't like the show at the time, but future generations and I will thank you. On second thought, if time travel is possible, someone probably already killed him so he couldn't cancel it. But, you know, it wouldn't hurt.

P.P.S. And maybe lose the fanny pack. Those weren't even cool in the 90's. Oh, and don't get too attached to scrunchies; they'll go out of style, and you'll be devastated.

Four Completely Serious Grammar Rules

Everyone knows I'm a grammar geek. It's no secret that I enjoy diagramming sentences, I correct people's pronouns without stopping to think about it, and I regularly take red pens to church bulletins.

What you may not know is that I have discovered some incredibly scientific punctuation rules in my studies and journeys - rules that are not widely known but that are widely violated and abused without any thought to their universal consequence. I'm here today to share these rules, and maybe even to save your life. Yes, these rules are THAT serious.

Exclamation points:

You guys, here's the thing. You only get so many exclamation points in your lifetime; when you use them up, you die. 

I know what you're thinking: "this chick be cra-cra." No, not at all. I'm serious! Here's how this rule works:

• Each person has an exclamation point limit.
• The limit is different for each person.
• The limits are unknown. Could be 0, could be 500,000,000, could be anything.
• When you use up your exclamation points, you die. This is not necessarily immediately - just sometime after you write/type your final exclamation point, and before you get the opportunity to write/type another. 
• The exclamation point limit is only decreased when the punctuation is typed or written, not spoken or implied.
• When you use an exclamation point in print, and it gets reproduced or copied, the reproductions or copies do NOT subtract from your limit.
• If you type/write one, and it gets deleted or erased, it goes back into your lifetime supply.

Here are the standard practices I've adopted in order to avoid an early death:

• Never use more than one exclamation point at a time.
• Never use exclamation points on more than half of the sentences on the page or in the post.
• Spread the word of this rule whenever possible.

Commas:

Each keyboard has a comma limit. When it is reached, the comma key stops working and you get sentences like the following, only worse. 

You can see how that would be a problem.

Question Marks:

Okay, people. A question is either interrogative or not. Adding extra question marks doesn't make it more so. Just as a woman can't be more or less pregnant once she's pregnant, a sentence can't be more or less interrogative once it's interrogative.

I know, I know. You think an extra question mark adds urgency. No, it does not. All those extraneous question marks end up floating around the universe and cluttering up space. They want a home, so they attach themselves to the end of any old sentence? Listen closely, and you can hear them in speech? Mostly, this happens in Australia, but it's becoming more and more prevalent in America?

So instead of adding urgency to the end of your sentences, those extra question marks end up making other people sound insincere and unintelligent. Are you proud of yourself now? Are you??

Apostrophes:

This is a gentle, delicate, sensitive punctuation that only wants to be useful in the world. Little baby apostrophes are born and bred to take the place of missing letters, and to show possession. They dream of growing up to provide clarity and even elegance to writing. But as they burst forth into the world, many of them find it a harsh place, full of people who think that plurals and my last name need apostrophe's. Its a travesty, really. A trave'sty.

If you have ANY questions about apostrophes, I beg you - refer to this chart:

http://theoatmeal.com/comics/apostrophe

-----

And thus end's this instructional, even life-saving post? Happy National Punctuation Day* everyone!

*National Punctuation Day is on Sep 24 every year. 

Things I Wish I Could Put on My Resume

I'm in the middle of updating and revising my resume right now, and I think it's a shame that I can't include "Oldest of Seven Children" on my list of qualifications/experiences. If I could, it would look a bit like this:

OLDEST 

     Of seven children, everywhere USA and the world 

     July 1999 - Present 

In my position as the oldest offspring of two homeschooling parents, I have spent my life honing communication skills, putting other people's needs before my own, and learning how to be a responsible employee. From my younger siblings and parents, I can benefit your company in the following ways:

• Communication:
• Maintain conversations with people in multiple time zones and countries (simultaneously mocking the way people look on Skype and Google Hangout)
• Hold each simultaneous conversation on a different electronic or face-to-face platform (blaming the bandwidth for static and dropped calls)
• Customer Service:
• Ignore the things I need in order to make sure everyone else is happy (making sure everyone else knows how selfless I am)
• Listening to the needs of other people (then telling them to shut up because their problems are crap)
• Organization:
• Keep drawers, cupboards, desks, and rooms tidy (cleaning only in order to avoid my own chores)
• Plan large parties for dozens of people (delegating tasks to various siblings and then blaming them when something isn't done well)
• Responsibility:
• Supervising half a dozen people in a task (taking all the credit when it's completed in a timely, efficient manner)
• Completing tasks in a timely, efficient manner all by myself (after pushing away the person who was doing it all wrong to begin with)

I just don't understand why employers don't ask for stuff like this. ;-)

In all seriousness, I think about my family every day when I'm at work. Nearly every time someone compliments one of my skills, I can point to my mom, dad, or abundance of siblings for teaching me how to be an excellent employee - and, I hope, a gracious person and halfway decent sister.

Instead of a Christmas Letter...

My Year in Review: 2012 in Charity-land

Georgia, Florida, California. Weekend adventures, beach-walking, road-tripping, moving. Hotels, apartments, bay-side living, even my car. New friends, new places, old friends, and older memories. 15 states (3 of them new), 8 planes, a few trains, and thousands of miles on my car. Turned 28 for the second time and settled down for the first time. Bought a bed, a Kindle Fire, a new computer, and the usual share of wedding presents. Attended 1 wedding, 0 baby showers, and 0 funerals. Made scrolls for the first time and chocolate chip cookies for the millionth time. I visited my family, and they visited me.

This was the first year since 1979 that we didn't have our entire family in one place at the same time; it was the first year that we didn't fight over what to wear for family pictures; the first year I was the one watching a sibling move off to another country indefinitely; the first time I missed a roommate reunion since I started going to them; first year since college that I have only one W-2.

I'm good. Good apartment, good city, good roommate, good job, good church, good Bible study, good friends, good-ish car, good computer, good times. Commitment-phobia: still present, but less than in 2011. San Diego: fantastic (do I really live here?).

Things I didn't do: camp, take up smoking, replace my car, get a boyfriend, kick my caffeine addiction, read J. K. Rowling's new book, get a piercing, get a traffic ticket, have a baby, bake a cake, go skydiving.

Things I did do: lived in a hotel, took up a collection, fixed my car, thought about getting a boyfriend, kicked my toe (and fell on my thumb), read the unabridged "Les Miserables," got a roommate, got in a traffic accident (minor - no injuries), held a few babies, baked cookies, went snorkeling.

Top THAT, 2013. I dare ya.

12 Things I Did for the First Time: in 2012

• Road-tripped cross-country solo (Everybody sing: "I'm ridin' solo / I'm ridin' solo")
• Cooked eggplant - successfully, I might add
• Mailed a package to Sweden
• Illuminated a scroll (can't post a pic, until the person it was for receives it)
• Registered a car in California (though, I didn't obtain my CA driver's license for the first time)
• Bought a bookshelf
• Drank wine
• Tasted beer (Wow, two alcohol-related bullet points. Scandalous!)
• Wrapped every Christmas gift before giving it
• Refinished (and re-upholstered) a piece of furniture. With Roommate. But still.
• Attended a pirate festival
• Denied my real age (I told everyone I was turning 28 again, because prime numbers annoy me)

So yeah, it was a pretty good year. Not gonna lie.

Happy '13, everyone! (Ugh, a prime number)

Further Thoughts on Home

With much conflicted feelings, I decided to leave my "location independent" lifestyle and settle down in San Diego, California. I told myself I'd travel for a year and see what happened, and yesterday marked 11 months, so that's pretty darn close.

Four weeks ago, I did a solo road trip from Tallahassee to San Diego. Even less than an hour after I left Tallahassee, I had the sense that I was going home. It made me so happy that I was going to have a home - not just a random place to crash for a few weeks/months - that I actually started crying before I was even out of Florida.

To my delighted surprise, I haven't once doubted my decision to stop moving around for a while. In San Diego, I'm home - totally home. It's like I gathered up all the other pieces of me that I left everywhere else around the world and put them back into place, and all that's left in the other locations is just the imprint in the dust that gathered around the pieces I'd loaned them for a while.

Of course, my fear of commitment didn't go away immediately, and I still struggle with thoughts of what will happen if I lose my job or if something bad happens to my family while I'm away or whatever. It seems like every time in my life up to this point that I try to settle down, something bad happens. I tell myself that it was just to get me to this time and place where I'm supposed to be - but sometimes the commitment-phobe in me doesn't listen. Even in the last four weeks, though, the fear has become quieter and less obnoxious.

This completely unexpected and welcome sense of having come home has prompted a lot of processing, as you can imagine, and I'm sure it will for months yet. For instance:

• I'm taking longer to find a church and community here, because I don't have to settle with the first group of people I meet.
• I don't know anymore if I should keep "wants to live all over the world" on my list of things I want in a man.
• I have to start paying attention to local news and politics again, because they actually affect me now.
• I have more things I want to achieve in life, but they're mostly things I can achieve here.  

Some good things about moving to San Diego:

• I already have friends all over So Cal.
• A friend put me in touch with a roommate who is so compatible with me it's ridiculous.
• I'm back on Pacific Time.
• The ocean is nearby.
• People actually visit me now instead of just saying they're going to. 

Not that I didn't love my "location-independent" lifestyle while it lasted; I did. I just feel like all of my life has prepared me to live in San Diego. The whole time I was traveling, I had this sense that I had to keep moving because I might be missing out on something better. But now, I don't. Like, maybe this is what I was looking for the whole time - but I sure wouldn't appreciate it this much if I hadn't lived in four other states in the last 12 months. Sure, I still want to mark the remaining 17 states and 3 continents off my list, and I haven't lost the desire to keep seeing the world - but I don't think I ever want to live anywhere else besides the greater San Diego area. Maybe I'm honeymooning a bit still, but I'm okay with that.

Now that I've bought four bookcases, a bed, and half of a living room set (my roommate bought the other half), I'm a little in mourning over the loss of the "easy" move I've been able to do every 2-13 weeks. Plus, my parents and two youngest brothers are driving the last of my stuff down from MN this week, so I'll probably never again be able to throw some stuff in my trunk and go.

So what about San Diego makes me feel at home? I don't have an exhaustive list yet, but here's a start. On a macro level, everything here feels "right" (Yes, I know you can't judge other places/cultures based on how yours does things; but having grown up in So Cal, I am hard-wired to think that the way So Cal does things is better) - everything from the palm trees to the 9-lane freeways to the street signs to the dining establishments (In-N-out, anyone?) to weather is just...right (for lack of a better, less-judgmental word).

Also on a macro level, it's everything I've ever wanted in the place I eventually settle down: big city, lots going on, lots to explore, not rainy all the time, not dusty and deserty, well-known location, day-trip adventure opportunities to keep me busy for a long time, and a super-fun downtown I probably want to live in someday.

I think it's the combination of big-city and Southern California that makes San Diego so wonderful to me - but even that doesn't explain it entirely, because LA wouldn't cut it; maybe it's the smog there or something, but LA hasn't felt like completely like home since I left in 2001. Here, I love the clear air, the multiculturalality, the friendlier feel, and easy freeway navigation. (This list is actually much longer, but I've been gushing long enough.)

I guess my concluding thought is that, I never thought I'd be completely at home ever again, and I have been pleasantly surprised by life and God. I can say unequivocally with C.S. Lewis that I have been "Surprised By Joy." Put differently: sometimes, God just makes me happy.

A New "30 Things" List

I ran across this article by Glamour Magazine from 1997, titled "30 Things Every Woman Should Have and Should Know by the Time She's 30." Shocked and a little offended by the shallowness and the outright wrongness of it, my friends and I decided to write our own list.

Without further ado, we present to you:
30 Things Every Woman Should Have, Know, and Do by the Time She's 30

DO:
1. Travel outside the country at least once (yes, those missions trips to Mexico count).
2. Go to a movie (restaurant/day trip/museum) alone.
3. Break down on the side of the road.
4. Wear a bridesmaid dress.
5. Help a friend through a break-up.
6. Read a Jane Austen novel cover-to-cover (movie versions don't count).
7. Paint an entire room.
8. Throw comfort zones to the wind and do something despite your fear.
9. Make the most of your twenties.
10. Nerd-out about something, without caring what other people think.

HAVE:
11. A basic tool set.
12. At least one outfit purchased at full price.
13. A laptop, a phone, and one other piece of technology you can't live without.
14. A full bookcase - or at least a shelf.
15. At least one guy (not-boyfriend) friend.
16. A friend who doesn't put up with your crap.
17. A pretty good idea of how to iron and mend clothing, if only in emergencies.
18. The self-control to stick to a diet every once in a while.
19. The self-esteem to know that diet-breaking isn't the end of the world.
20. Basic customer service skills, including the ability to say "I'm sorry."

KNOW:
21. How to unclog a toilet/sink.
22. What size jeans you wear (I mean, come on).
23. How to change a dirty diaper.
24. How to listen.
25. How to shop for baby showers.
26. How to be childlike without being childish.
27. The difference between "your" and "you're."
28. That you can't control your family's decisions, and that's okay.
29. How to articulate what you believe, for the most part.
30. How to laugh at yourself.

Many thanks to Joanna Schmitt and Amanda Bangor for helping with this list.