the end ... the beginning

i've said before that i kind-of feel like i'm in limbo. i think i said it in the months between giving my resignation and packing up for california. i think i've said it for my entire (almost) three years of living in california. and i say it now as a newly engaged person waiting to take on my new ... and oh-so-intimidating ... role of mrs. vincent masciale.

eek.

with certainty, i am struggling to say good bye to the old me. the me that dreamed of finding 'mr. right' and wondered (with shocking regularity) what it would be like to have someone actually make a commitment to spending the rest of their life with me. and to be perfectly honest ... that loss of hopeful anxiety for a future partner and dreaming big dreams as to what that life would look like (mostly because i knew it wasn't happening anytime soon) is really sad.

there was a time when life was about dreaming big, hollywood esque dreams. mainly because the chances of them happening were so slim. i mean, i had kind-of become accustomed to making romantic wish lists and never checking anything off.

until i made a move ... literally.

and now i'm checking things off one-by-one. and my list is getting smaller and more intimidating.

i keep thinking, "is this it? is this the end of my hopeful anxiety of this fairy tale life? is this the end of the girl-talks with friends at impromptu sleepovers?"

and then i slap myself and say, "woe is me for having a fiance and a life that even i drool over." i mean really. here i am crying over the pending death of krysta rinke all because i'm afraid that krysta masciale might not have as much to look forward to. i keep wondering if krysta masciale will do what krysta rinke is doing right now five years from now ... remembering the good ole days when things were so fresh and new and hopeful? or will she end up losing herself in a new name, piles of laundry and diapers?

the truth is. i don't know the answer to the future. but i know that i have to stop fearing that i'll become the wife and possibly mother that somewhere along the way stopped dreaming and hoping for a life of romance and adventure. and perhaps, be more concerned with the steps i'm taking now to loosen the reigns and allow God to turn my life upside down, yet again. because in all reality, where i am today started with one leap of faith that led me to the life i dreamed about five years ago in my apartment in kansas.

who would have thought it would all come true? heh. more shocking ... who would have thought i'd be scared to step into the life of my dreams after so many years of wishing they'd come true? i guess it's time to start a new list ...

secret to making new friends ...

have a common interest.

i've been trying to become friends with certain people my entire life. you know, the 'untouchables.' i don't know if i liked the challenge or was just trying to validate my own existence by begging people into adding me to their buddy list. either way, it's obvious why i failed ... over and over again.

i never really had anything in common with those people. other than perhaps, that we went to the same school. or church. or had a class together (in elementary school). and i find myself running into a similar problem as a grown adult.

but here's what i had the privilege of observing this weekend at a campsite nestled perfectly in the middle of a pine-tree infested mountainside:

our camping friends like to go bouldering. if you don't know what that means, it's ok. neither did i. it means you climb a boulder ... with your bare hands. pretty incredible once you realize how difficult it actually is. anyway, they had stumbled upon a boulder that seemed to be all the rave with the other 'boulder climbing' folk. we had been there alone for a while, but then a few more people started to make there way to this lone rock. before i know it, they were exchanging stories, discovering common connections and experiences, laughing and cheering each other on as they worked together to conquer this giant rock. they had their own language. their own way of identifying with each other as fellow climbers.

they seemed to all be members of the same tribe without having ever met each other.

i used to see it with harley riders when i went out with my dad and grandpa on their bikes. there was a hand signal flashed whenever you'd pass another hog owner. i picked it up pretty fast and instantly felt i had been accepted into the tribe-o-riders. i feel it every time i meet someone here in l.a. from kansas (or any neighboring state other than nebraska). i feel it every time i see someone wearing my alma mater's gear. but here's the trick ...

what you have in common actually has to mean something to you ... it has to be a part of who you are ... or else it doesn't last.

when we walked away from the boulder and headed down the dirt road, my friend ryan said, "i hope i can be like that guy some day. he has lived everywhere that i either want to live or have lived, he is totally in shape and has to be like 45 or 50 and such a good climber ... he was so cool."

the guy wouldn't have made such an impression if ryan didn't care as much about adventure sports as he does. he wouldn't have made such an impression if ryan wasn't already on the path to becoming the kind of climber/adventurer/globe trotter that this guy was. and that's perhaps the greatest secret of all: you'll never be something you're not. and when you realize that ... trying to fit in with the boulder-climbing, camping junkies (when really, you just like being outside and eating hobo stew under the stars) becomes less about trying so hard and more about appreciating the ties that bind us ... whatever your poison may be.

[thanks to ruthi, ryan and the oceans for letting us step into your world of adventure. it was so refreshing]

it commences

wedding freak-out mode commenced this afternoon as i read through our venue contract.

i feel like my signature on this document is asking for more than the marriage itself. it's so unwavering. i mean, what if i decide i want to have the wedding elsewhere in 5 months (which can't really happen because nothing is as cheap as this and we all know i'm a tight wad). nonetheless, there is something about the never getting my deposit back that really makes me nervous.

i don't like that something could happen to the venue and i wouldn't be able to get my money back. i don't like that i can't control the conditions surrounding one of the most important days of my life.

i don't like not being in control. period. there ... i said it.

and this contract is just another reminder that i can't control everything. that i need to learn how to roll with the punches. and that sometimes trying too hard to be in control gets in the way of the things that really matter.

you know, like being with the people who love vince and i as we commit our lives to one another ... for as long as we live. little things like that.

by the way ... you tell me if i should be freaking out with a future husband as adorable as this and a venue as glorious as the one below. [virtual slaps welcome]

phases

this is simply a continuation of the conversation i've been having on this blog for months. all the question i've been mulling over regarding spirituality, expectations, where my life is headed, growing up, etc ... are starting to boil down to a few things.

1. who am i ... really?
2. what was i created to do?
3. where do i go from here to create the life i was made for?

vince and i were invited to be a part of a leadership experience at mosaic for the next 7 weeks. last night was our first 'experience' at it left me dumbfounded. i'm still reeling from a few questions that were posed last night in our leadership discussion:

when was the moment when you realized, "if i don't do it ... no one else will?" where you said, "i HAVE to do this."

uh.

i thought about that for a while, hoping i didn't have to speak first in my group. and by the time it was my turn, i still didn't really have an answer ... so i kind-of picked the first thing that came to my mind. actually, that's a lie. i picked the second thing that came to my mind ... because the first thing was in the context of the church leadership, and i thought that would come across as a typical 'Sunday School' answer.

but if i'm honest. the last time i really felt like i was supposed to do something ... the last time i thought, "i HAVE to do this" was when i was en route to L.A. since then, i've been hopping from one project to the next trying to find my place.

we busted out the Bible last night (been a while since i've done that) and some really cool things came out that made me look at my 'leadership funk' in a new way. we talked about how the scriptures assume we have zeal, it just wants to make sure we're informed ... moving forward with knowledge ... channeling our passion appropriately. one comment hank made was, "if i blaze my sword, i better know what i'm swinging at and why."

that stuck with me.

because i'm really good at blazing my sword in hopes of hitting ANYTHING worth fighting for. and let me tell you ... i've found a lot of things worth fighting for since i came to l.a. ... but nothing that i'm willing to do on my own. which brings me to the final point from last night that has been ringing in my brain for nearly 24 hours:

people only follow people they know will do it without them.

so, for now, i'm trying to get back to the basics (per usual). i'm trying to remember the moments when people believed in me (whether it was just this weekend during a conversation with my incredible fiance or 20 years ago at church camp) ... because those moments will inevitably direct me towards that thing that i just can't walk away from.

in the meantime, there are a handful of people in my life who need to know that they are capable of greatness. and i think, for now, it's my job to make sure they know that. who knows, i may be the only person that will ever tell them.

honky tonk

let this be an enormous disclaimer: i'm not technically a country girl. i didn't grow up on a farm. i didn't own horses ... for long. and the closest i came to really living the life of 'country folk' was my few year stint in elementary school where i not only tried my hand at barrel racing, but also (along with my brother) became adorned in premium western wear. red ropers and belt buckles included. yes. there are photos for proof (which you will never see). but that doesn't make me 'country' and i am fully aware of that as i write this.

i have to say, however, that since i moved to l.a., i have more frequent daydreams about 'country life' than i do about 'city life.' could be the grass is greener complex since the opposite was true back in the days of starry nights, dirt roads and endless fields. and, as i rode the train today ... passing field of buildings and smog ... i listened to all the country music i had allowed myself to put on my iPhone (i think there were three songs total - because iPhone and country music doesn't seem synonymous.)

anyway, it made me smile. it reminded me of my grandma's country music star quizzes in the car.

[radio playing hit country music]
grandma: alright kids ... who is this?
krysta: dolly parton.

[radio plays another hit country song]
grandma: who's this?
krysta/tanner [droning]: randy travis ...

those were fun times. when i memorized every single word to the garth brooks song, "american honky tonk bar association" because it's the closest thing to rap music i had heard. and i'll have you know, it was dang cool to be able to sing that song all the way through without skipping a beat. ladies and gentlemen, i went to his concert twice in one week when i was in high school. reba mcentire was my first CD purchase. fancy ... dang good song (as good as songs about mothers sending their daughters off to be prostitutes can be).

more than anything though, it reminded me of times when things were simple. because i was, well, a kid. and for some reason ... today ... i missed being a kid. red ropers and all.

dear self ...

i was reading through my journal from elementary school and part of middle school this morning. you know, just to add a bit of comic relief to my morning routine. and with my morning cup of joe and fro in tow ... i have this to say to my prepubescent self:

dearest prepubescent krysta,

i know you feel like your hair is a wild beast that lacks the desire and capabilities of being tamed. and i know the combination of your giant fro, lanky purple legs, small chest and gangly front teeth make you feel a bit awkward and insecure.

but let me say this. one day in high school ... you will discover that your curls can be managed with an appropriate amount of gel. it won't look perfect, but people will eventually stop referring to you as frizzo. you will still spend countless hours trying to straighten your hair with a blow dryer and giant round brush every-so-often, but it'll look much better because you will have also discovered palmade .

when you get to college, you are introduced to a flat iron, that you will claim to have saved your self-esteem as you know it. it makes your hair look like everyone else's who secretly wish they had your natural curls to provide volume that you try so desperately to rid yourself of. your boyfriends and superficial friends will compliment you every time your hair is straight, so you keep doing it ... slaving away to keep frizzo at bay.

but dearest krysta, one day ... when you least expect it (and when you haven't actually taken the time to burn the crap out of your hair that morning), a guy named vince will ask if he can bring you some home made food. you will say yes, knowing that this giant mop that most people call hair can not be dealt with before his arrival. so you make a small disclaimer about the frizzy monstrosity and wait until he arrives. and krysta ... from that day forward, he will ask you why you don't wear your hair in all its frizzy, curly glory every day. you will still fight the good fight a few times a week to make it look more 'presentable,' but one day ... a day like today ... you will wear your crazy mop with pride. because it's you.

with love and gobs of hair gel,
your 26-year-old self

p.s. - you eventually grow out of your training bra (although it takes a while), your legs will always be purple (which is always helpful to break the ice with new people), and your teeth actually straighten up without braces. trust me ... you'll turn out just fine.

in medias res :: reconciling the two

there is a reason traveling has become such a necessity for me in the recent years. and i used to think it was because of this sick sense of validation i received from "going away for business." it seemed regal. something i had always wanted to say. i began to think it was because everything was covered by my employer (which ... let's face it ... isn't too far from the truth). but what i realized on my latest trip to washington, d.c. was that i craved the space to just exist. no real responsibility, no real expectations. i just had to show up.

don delillo once wrote, "to be a tourist is to escape accountability. errors and failing don't cling to you the way they do back home. you're able to drift across continents and languages, suspending the operation of sound thought. tourism is the march of stupidity. you're expected to be stupid. the entire mechanism of the host country is geared to travelers acting stupidly. you walk around dazed, squinting into fold-out maps. being stupid is the pattern, the level and the norm. you can exist on this level for weeks and months without reprimand or dire consequence. together with thousands, you are granted immunities and broad freedoms. there is nothing to think about but the next shapeless event."

when i read this passage from a random book i picked up at a local dupont circle bookstore, i almost died. finally, someone knew how i felt ... someone had captured my increasing desire to lack the responsibility i secretly place on myself in the dark corners of my mind.

two days after i returned from d.c., i walked across the stage at graduation to receive my masters degree. a week after that, vince and i would close on our first home and begin a week of home-owner's boot camp.

and as i sit here ... my mind wanders to places where i can escape the question i, only a few months ago, thought i had the strength to answer ... what next? and the truth is ... i'm not sure i ever really thought past this point in my life.

as new dreams fill my mind with each room in the new house ... with each glance at my ring ... with each reminder of the endless opportunity in front of me ... i pause and beg for one more weekend away to introduce the old krysta, who set so many expectations for her adult self, to the adult krysta who met them and is ready to move forward.

who would have thought all of my dreams would have come true in their own way and led me to this place. this place of saying goodbye to the old life and trying to welcome the new without feeling guilty. because really ... i think my 6, 13, 17 and 22 year old self would be really proud that she made it to this point. and it's time to celebrate that.