face time

Have you seen Dentyne's current ad campaign?

I think it's sheer creative genius. Mostly because it deeply resonates with people. And while it doesn't make me want to blow bubbles with Dentyne gum, it does make me want to put down my laptop and enjoy some face time.

Living in Africa for over a decade, the internet has been my life source for connections. Most of my friendships have never been sustained with phone calls, coffee dates, lunches, or visits. Instead, they've been cultivated with emails, instant messages, blogging, and video chats.

Lately I've heard a lot of dialogue about whether or not community can be found online. This much I know is true: It can. I'm grateful for the rich, genuine friendships that I've fostered over the internet.

But while I appreciate the value of "technologically advanced" friendships, I also recognize the significance of what I've missed in actual face time. A text message communicates far less than a long, tight hug. A phone call pales in comparison with the unspoken expressions of a glance or a touch. An online chat is merely a shadow of a chai-in-hand conversation on a coffee shop couch.

I'll always be grateful for whatever form of connection and affection I'm blessed to have. But whenever possible, please can I have some face time?

'Cause, seriously... What I wouldn't give for a hug like this today---

upside down

It's the weekend. And I'm feelin' a little lazy. So, I'm putting you in charge of my blog. Who?

You.

I'm gonna write a comment, and you're gonna write something that would've gotten that response outta me.

Got it?

Good.

Tell me something that would make me say---

"So glad you shared. I just threw up in my mouth a little bit."

meet dwayne

There's a certain Starbucks I visit fairly often, usually for hours on end with my laptop, journal, or Bible coming along for company. And there's a certain older gentleman who visits there just as regularly as I do. Dwayne's guaranteed to be found reading a newspaper, playing sudoku, or taking a nap in the middle of either. The other day I pit-stopped in a Starbucks on the complete other side of town. As I pulled into the parking lot, I spotted a familiar face enjoying a smoke outside. What was Dwayne doing here?!

"I feel like I've been caught cheating on my wife," he said when he saw me. He chuckled; I looked away and smiled.

In a strange city where I know practically no one, I was caught off guard by running into someone I "know". Made me realize just how long I've actually been here, and the fact that three months is a pretty long temporary.

I'm back in my usual Bux today after a bit of a hiatus. And Dwayne's not here. I wonder where he is, and if he's okay.

And I wonder if he's wondered the same about me.

meet gym

I've been hanging out with Gym a lot lately. Like five or six times a week. And let me tell you, he's been kicking my butt. Kick.Ing.It. With a name like Urban Active, how could I resist joining? I knew I needed to do something not only to get in shape but also to improve my mental/emotional health. So I hooked up with Gym.

To say I was intimidated on our first date would be a ridiculous understatement. My chest tightened with anxiety just looking at all the equipment that I had no clue how to use, and seeing all the people who very clearly knew what they were doing.

But I dove right in, expending more energy in one 20-minute session than I had in weeks. Months.

And I hobbled for days afterward. No lie. Hover-peeing was completely out of the question, and walking down a set of stairs nearly ended in catastrophe on more than one occasion.

But I kept seeing Gym.

And the I-can't-believe-it-hurts-this-much soreness gradually subsided---for the most part.

Now Gym and I spend an hour together just about every day. I work hard; I sweat a disgusting amount; I huff and puff all the way to the bitter end. Today I pushed myself really hard. And I've had jell-o legs ever since. [Note to self: Hold the handrail on the way downstairs.]

While I don't expect I'll ever say, I love working out!, I do walk away feeling exhausted proud of myself.

So for that reason, I can say I love Gym.

Even though he kicks my butt.

upside down

It's your turn to write for the Grit. WHA?!

Seriously.

I'm gonna leave a comment and you write something that would've gotten that response outta me.

You can say as much or as little as you want. It's entirely up to you.

Just give me something that would make me say---

"I just scooped my jaw off the floor---I can't believe you said that!"