You Did What?!?!

It's been too long, I know. This time around, it was my conscience that drove me to write.


God, confession time.


Mom, I'm sorry. I figured you would forgive me. In fact, you're the reason I did what I did. Anyway, here's how it all went down:


Last Friday night (no, I didn't start singing the lyrics to Katy Perry's hit song), I served at my classmate's Friday Night Dinner (crazy busy but a total blast, btw :).


Toward the end of the evening, just before dessert was served, I was clearing a woman's plate from the table. She stopped me and pointed at the bracelet I was wearing - not just any bracelet, mind you, but the very first bracelet that my very own mother (that's you, Mom) designed and created for me. Special piece of jewelry. Pearls, 'HOPE', and a cross and heart charm were the bracelet's dominate attributes that I most admired.


Anyway, this woman (gosh darnit, I'm forgetting her name....Sylvia. No...Janet. No. Man, why can't I remember a stinkin' name?!! Dad, your Lumosity Brain exercises are taking their sweet precious time to kick in!! Oh, wait! Fran. That sounds vaguely familiar...regardless if it's the woman's name or not, we're sticking with Fran....) comments on the piece of sterling silver - plus a few pearls and charms - and wants to know where I got it. "My Mom made it. She makes jewelry," was my overly intelligent response. Fran was shocked! She wanted to know how/where she could get one just like mine. How much would it cost. When she could get it. Etc. Um....I had to excuse myself. Had to clear a dish....


Okay God, for some reason, at that moment, I felt like I needed to (or more wanted to, rather) give this Fran woman my bracelet. . . Returning to her table with the jewelry in my hand, I slipped the bracelet into her palm. I had given Fran my very first bracelet that my Mama had given to me. Right as I gave it to her, she noticed the little cross charm. "Oh, but, I'm Jewish...I can't wear a cross..." Badoom shing.... She was Jewish. But, of course. Hence why I felt so compelled to give her my 'Hope' bracelet with a cross. It didn't seem to bother her too much. She said she could 'hide' the cross. I told her she could explain to her Jewish friends that a sweet li'l Christian girl gave her the bracelet :) Anyway...


Mom, so that's how the story goes. I gave my bracelet away. Happy Fran. Sad Ali (not really). But, naked wrist. Okay, okay, before you go on gettin' all mad at me and stuff (using this for story sake onl), everyone knows you would be the last person on planet earth to be upset over such a minuscule thing as this. In fact, you've often initiated such generous acts of kindness :), just think: A Jewish woman (who fell in love with a Jesus bracelet you made) is now wearing it on her wrist. Oh, I forgot to mention that this woman Fran told me that she has copious amounts of jewelry (including many pieces from Tiffany's and an $800 watch), yet she was absolutely googoo gaga over YOUR humble and simple yet elegant and classy bracelet. I thought that was cool :)


Yep, I'm guilty as charged. I gave my bracelet to a Jewish woman....


That's that.


Cheers to life and silly stories  :)

All Okay

God, I love Your sign of promise, the rainbow. It's a visual reminder of Your faithful consistency. You're God. Always the same. You never ever change. Yes, Your ways tend to be out of the box, unexpected, a mystery, but they're always consistent with Your character. I love that. I love You.


I, on the other hand, am constantly inconsistent. So unreliable. So up and down, front to back. I change. People change. Circumstances change. Thoughts and emotions change.


But, that's okay....so, I'm learning.


It's okay.


It's okay to feel.


It's okay to be human.


It's okay to not know.


It's okay to not have everything figured out.


It's okay to experience pain.


It's okay to be honest.


It's okay to confront.


It's okay to be vulnerable.


It's okay to love.


It's okay to be loved.


It's okay to know.


It's okay to ache.


It's okay to know something is right, even if it hurts.


It's okay open up.


It's okay to have boundaries.


It's okay to be uncomfortable.


It's okay to feel sad.


It's okay to move on.


It's okay to feel small.


Yet, it's okay to know and rest in a Big God.


It's okay to live.


It's okay to be okay.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vpMI8Qu5fsc



It's okay to be okay with being human and weak. 


I serve a Crazy Amazing Unchanging Strong God.


Thank You Jesus :)


I'm okay. Better yet. I'm content to rest in You.


oxo

Just Because

Hi Daddy.


No, I didn't write 51 things I love about you on your birthday.


And, no, I didn't sing you a rappin' rhyme for Father's Day.


I'm sorry.


Does this make me a horrible daughter???


You'll get over it I presume :)


So, the reason for this blog post???


Just Because.


Just because I felt like it.


Just because you're pretty darn cool....you like to surf and you don't have gray hair....yet, at least ;)


Just because you're funny....like that time you thought that Andy Warhol statue was a real person.


Just because you're thoughtful....you'll watch "Bachelor" and "So You Think You Can Dance" with Mama.


Just because you have sophisticated tastes....you like bitter dark beers on tap and pink fro yo with sprinkles.


Just because you're mega smart....."The retracting neurochemical heightened responses overstimulated the oral cavity perpendicular to the transmembrane cranial sacrel yada yada yad. Capeesh?!"


Just because you're graceful...like the time you tried to fit all your bulky luggage through the Metro turnstile and...and....and....I almost peed my pants from laughing so hard!! bahhahahahaha!!!


Just because your laugh is contagious.....once you begin, there ain't no stoppin'! vicious cycle!!


Just because you're the world's best dad....this one doesn't need explaining. it's a given :)


Just because you're passionate.....about futbol....like that one time your silly, non-thinker daughter told you the outcome of a big-time soccer game before you had the chance to watch it....which leads me to


Just because you're full of humility....Jesus' grace!


Just because you love Jesus with such a deep, wide intense love....you're one of the only human beings that makes me cry when you say the name Jesus.


Just because you're a gift....from God!


Just because I'm soooooo beyond blessed and grateful to have YOU as my Daddy!


Just because I LOVE YOU!


Just because.


Do I really need a reason???


Dad. Not many people can say that word and truly mean it. I can.


I miss you and love you to San Diego and back!!!


xoxo 

Sweet as Pooh

Hi God :) I know I know, it's been waaaay tooo loooooong. But, anyway, here I am, writing more silly occurrences of my grand dramatic life....Ha!.....


K, so it went something like this ~


'Pedro' (name change for privacy reasons ;): "Ali, guess what?! I've been saying 'poop' like you told me to!!" 
He gives me a big ol' grin and a thumbs up.


Me: "You mean in exchange for the f-word?? Aw, Pedro! That's my boy!!"
Big grin and thumbs up in return.


You just never know when your sound, wise advice will rub off on those around you :)
Well, I know 'poop' probably isn't the best word replacement, but it's a start. 
Baby steps.


P.S.
God, I love you! You're pretty great :D

Fairy Tale

Hi God :)


I'm in a story-telling sorta mood. K, so here I go...


Once upon a day, there was this ambitious, silly girl (let's call her Daisy) who lived in New York City. Desiring to set the record straight among her many acquaintances and friends as far as being regarded as 'the sweet girl who was/is kind to everyone and wouldn't hurt a fly,' Daisy set out to do just that (unintentionally) on a particular weekday in the month of May. Oh, to begin with, she thinks flies are gross, wants to kick dirty pigeons, and city squirrels....can't even mention what she thinks of those!! So, if this wasn't enough to dispel that high-pedestal belief, don't worry! We haven't even touched the good part! 


K, as mentioned just a second ago, Daisy had quite the day (or episode, rather) on this sunny Thursday. In the morning, she had training (to be a server) at the Hummus Place on the Upper West Side. It was pretty exciting, learning the ins, outs, ups, downs of serving customers at a restaurant. Daisy likes numbers too, so that's good because this job will require lots of math. While an overall fun time, she did get dizzy...lots of twirling about the tiny hole-in-the-wall of a place. Whatev. That's beside the point...after a delicious meal of homemade hummus and roasted eggplant and cucumber, tomato salad and mint lemonade, Daisy and her full tummy took a lovely stroll through the grand Central Park. Then, continued her journey downward along 6th Ave, made a grocery stop at the over-crowded-but-nice-low-prices Trader Joe's, and eventually to her apartment in the funky cool East Village. The second she made the loooong walk home, she received a courteous text message from her internship boss: 'sure. come on by.' it read. Whew, she was kinda pooped as it was, buuuut what the heck, another 6 hour shift of work (in the kitchen, nonetheless) was calling her name (not really, but she really wanted to knock out interning hours for her culinary program).....Gee this sure does sound like a girl named Ali Wright who also lives in NYC, but I the narrator assure you, not the same girl (for privacy reasons or somethin' like that...). 


Aaaanyway, back the this overly exciting story. K, so Daisy was on a roll with the ol' walking the streets of Manhattan, what's a half hour more of walking?? Onward down to Tribeca to the kitchen where she gets some pretty darn great culinary experience. She had a FABulous time. Tiredness fluttered away. Kitchen packed full of multi-lingual testosterone, delicious smells, and fun times = good night :) Daisy and her boys had a grand time throughout restaurant service, preparing beautiful delicious dishes for the many guests above in the dining room. Ah, night well spent. Leaving the restaurant after 11:30pm, a wave of tiredness kicked in, although a smile rested on that worker bee's face. Being the good little girl that she is (by listening to her mommy and daddy), Daisy was hoping to flag down a taxi to ride home since it was late at night and this is NYC we're talking about. She had to weave in and out of a few streets in SoHo before finally being able to hail a cab. 


(Ok, from here on out, the plot thickens and reaches climaxe and everything happens very quickly, so hold on tight...oh, and p.s. don't judge...the girl I mean. Judge the cab driver all you want. Jk! But, not really! :) Good. Got one (a cab that is)! Hopped in. Taxi driver didn't say a word. No biggy. Whatev. 'East Village, please.' Still no word. Bumpy ride. Takes 4 minutes. Pull in front of Daisy's apt. Needs to pay. Swipes card. Nothing happens. Swipe again. Nothing. 'Um...did it go through??' asked Daisy, in her kind, sweet voice. Thick accent answers, 'No. Receipt didn't print. Did not go through.' Okay. Um...swipe again. Still nothing. Now, according to Daisy and her 'special' brain (aka horrible memory), exact convo leading up to exiting the taxi is not exactly remembered. She tried her best to remember. She tries another credit card. Doesn't go through. 'Sir, I think your machine is broken.' Taxi driver, 'No! It's your card. I drive people all day long and they all work.' Finally, debit card goes through (Thank You Lord!!). Taxi Driver, 'See!! It's your card!' Daisy, 'Okay. But, Sir, you could have been a little nicer about it.' Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Taxi driver turns to Daisy, 'F**k you, stupid girl!! Eff you, little b***!! D**n you!!' Ohmygoodness!! Daisy, is just a sweet little girl from the suburbs and usually uses words such as 'poop' and 'golly' and 'goodness,' so hearing those vulgar expletives coming out of his mouth and directed at her nonetheless, she got a little rosy around the edges. Actually, she was ruffled, every feather on her body was sticking on end. She was mad. How dare that cab driver say those absolutely horrible things. She even tipped him a nice tip. She jumped out of that cab, looked at the driver and said in a (I'm sorry, this tone wasn't as sweet as normal) firm, frazzled, upset tone, 'Well, well, GOD BLESS YOU!!!' (Slam!) Slammed the door and stormed off. Daisy was SOOO ticked off. It surprised even her! She flew up her five flights of stairs trying to fight back tears. She felt violated. She thought horrible thoughts. She was so mad at that darn old taxi driver. Didn't have one ounce of forgiveness or compassion or love for the guy!!! 


Oh, Jesus, I hate him!! I feel like hitting him!! Why did you allow such a bad thing to happen!! I have never been so mad, I don't think!! Wow! This flesh life of mine is beautiful, isn't it!! I'm not surprised to tell you the truth. Not surprised at all by my reaction. Of course I got offended and am upset and want to hurt something (mostly him!). This is a tough-as-nails city. And, without YOUR holy powerful Life in control and flowing freely through me, my flesh life wins! And, boy is it ugly!!!! Soften my heart...Jesus, I don't like that taxi driver at all!! But, You Jesus, You love Him. Ouch! Father, bless him. Bless him. Bless him. Touch him with Your Love and Your Grace. He desperately needs You. And, apparently, SO DO I!!! Bed time.


See. Daisy, a seemingly sweet kind girl, is just like every other human. Yet, she serves one heck of a God :)


The End.

51 Candles

Happy 51st Birthday, Dear Mom!!!

Today is my Mommy's Birthday!! Lord Jesus, thank You oh so much for choosing Alisa Wright to be my Mother! I am so grateful and blessed to have such an incredible woman bring me into this world and raise me and love me and teach me lessons that only she could teach me by Your sweet, tender loving grace! She points me to You, Jesus!! 

I love you, Mama, and so much about you!!! 

1.) I love YOU

2.) I love your smile

3.) I love your laugh

4.) I love your positivity

5.) I love your teachable spirit

6.) I love your generosity

7.) I love how hospitable you are

8.) I love your transparency 

9.) I love your kindness

10.) I love selflessness

11.) I love your humility

12.) I love your simplicity

13.) I love your trusting spirit

14.) I love your faith

15.) I love your excitement

16.) I love your passion

17.) I love your silliness

18.) I love your contentment

19.) I love your diligence

20.) I love your joy

21.) I love your desire to grow

22.) I love your attitude

23.) I love your compassion

24.) I love your boldness

25.) I love your quick decision making ability

26.) I love your cooking

27.) I love your wisdom

28.) I love how special you make me and others feel

29.) I love your thoughtfulness

30.) I love your sportiness

31.) I love how quickly you accomplish tasks

33.) I love your cleanliness

34.) I love your nurturing (yet not babying) heart 

35.) I love your ability to listen

36.) I love your gentleness

37.) I love and admire your patience

38.) I love how you parent

39.) I love your zest for life

40.) I love your love for Dad

41.) I love your love and passion for Jesus and to know Him

42.) I love chatting with you

43.) I love traveling with you

44.) I love your outlook and perspective on life

45.) I love your freedom in Christ

46.) I love how you don't dwell in bitterness

47.) I love your perspective on aging and growing older

48.) I love how you love people, family, friends, strangers, all

49.) I love your Security, Identity, Confidence in Jesus

50.) I love your singing voice  and your dance moves :)

51.) I love YOU and the Life of Christ that is SO evident in your daily, moment-to-moment walk in Him. Jesus shines ever so brightly and powerfully in and through you, Mama! I love how He is your Joy and Peace and Love and Hope and Rest and your All. He's your Enough!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my Mom and Friend whom I love and adore so very much!!!!! 

P.S. There is so much more I love about you, just want you to know :)

xoxo

The New Smokin' Fad!

I'm gonna cut right to the chase, God. Been doing some thinking lately, and I've been thinking I should take up a new hobby.....specifically smoking! What d'ya think?!?!


I know I know. It's bad for me. It stinks. It's addictive. Can put a croakin' toad in my throat. And cause cancer.


BUT....


Practically everyone in NYC does it. It's more of a social thing than anything. A majority of people in the restaurant industry smoke. Not to lose weight (I don't think) and not because they'll die if they don't (I don't think, again). Rather, their reasons for poppin a siggy (aka cigarette) are this: a good excuse to take a break from work and get some fresh air (haha! well...outside air, I should say :). Really! Isn't that kinda funny if you think about it?? Hi, my names Ali, and I just started smoking camels because i wanna see 7 minutes of sunshine with my homies....


Oh, paleez! Give me a break!! 


Well, actually, I'm a social butterfly, and I kinda want an excuse to take a breather and mingle with random strangers who all have smoking in common. Hmmm....Should I or shouldn't I take up smoking?? Oh, or perhaps I can become addicted to fat Cuban cigars. Nah, hate the smell. Or, what about pipes?? Gotta love a vanilla scented pipe-a-roo!! 


What it boils down to is this: I want an excuse to take a break that employers won't give me crap about. But, not super crazy about the stickin' a smokey thing in my mouth. Wait! I have an idea! How about I use my small, weak bladder issue as an excuse?!! Genius! I should start drinking even more water than I do! My poor bladder is like that of an 80yr-old's!! Actually, that's more anti-social than anything...unless I were a guy. Or, I could buy myself an inhaler and pretend I have asthma. Hey boss, gotta go take a puff with my fellow employees as they surround me with their cigarettes! Um...not thinkin' that'll fly so well, especially if those with breathing problems are advised to keep their distance from smokers. Oh, I could acquire a bad case of temperamental Spanish turrets. Havin' a no bueno chinga episode!! Need fresh air!! Now not so sure...especially with a majority of fellow employees being Hispanic. (Sigh)...What to do what to do??? 


I guess I'm left with no other creative excuse than to smoke....But, don't worry any of you anti-smokers you!! I'll be sure and whip out my bubble siggies from now on...the ones that taste like bubble gum :)


Happy 4/20 (aka my birthday, not the national smoke pot day part)!!! :)


xoxo


P.S. The photo up top is from my college days....or day rather. A friend of mine and I bought her a vanilla flavored baby cigar the day she turned 18. We went through an entire box of matches...had absolutely NO idea how to light the thing. I advised her to take a puff, find out if the thing just so happened to light. What d'ya know! It had! She inhaled the smoke (into her lungs) and coughed up a storm. . . Now, those are the memories!! Hahaha!