Have you ever been called ugly to your face?

I have. And I'm not even lying.
Today, while purchasing some items for our church's Mexico house-build trip, I had one of the most ridiculous interactions of my life. And I'm not exaggerating. I have a witness. Her name is Laura Agee.

I put my 7 items on the counter, and paid with a credit card. The cashier then asked for my ID, which I fully expected.

Then, something entirely uncalled for happened. She uttered these words:
"Oh... you don't look as beautiful as you do in this picture."

How does one respond to that? I was so taken aback. All I could do was shrug my shoulders and say, "I don't know."

I looked at my friend Laura, eyes as wide as saucers, asking--albeit telepathically--Did she really just say that?!

After the cashier had put my items in a plastic bag, and muttered something about an Avery address label rebate, she said, "I was just kidding."

I smiled and performed a fake laugh, crying on the inside.

Then, she said something even stranger:
"So, your name is Jessica?"

"Yes," I replied. (She's just looked at my identification, and looked up my Staples card in the system. Her verification question to me only moments earlier was, Are you Jessica?) Why, in the name of all that is normal and right in this world, would she ask for my name again?

I've decided that this lady is a lunatic. And therefore, I will not take her insults to heart. Builds character, right?
Sheesh.

What's with today, Today?

Reasons why today is lame:

1. Everyone has commented on my outfit today, most of them have been negative and/or insulting. I wore shorts to work today. And a pink shirt. It's spring. It felt appropriate. However, many of my coworkers--along with people who've popped in the office--have decided it's too cold for such attire. Need I remind you, we are living in San Diego? Or that it's March? Or that it's 65 degrees outside--and around 70 inside? Sheesh.
2. I couldn't, for the life of me, prepare my breakfast in a timely manner. First, I couldn't find the bowls at work. Second, it was hard to open the cereal box. Third, it took FOREVER to cut the strawberries. Fourth, I kept dropping said strawberries. Fifth, I somehow managed to spray strawberry juice onto my khaki shorts. Lovely.
3. I have a stye in my eye. It hurts. It's ugly. And I couldn't put on makeup to cover it up.

Reasons why today is grand:

1. While it took years for my breakfast to finally be ready, it tasted wonderful. We tried a new granola--organic granola with peanuts--and I, for one, will never go back to Flax Plus "original" again.
2. My lunch was superb: leftover sweet potato & leek soup with rice and half of a leftover Rico's California burrito.
3. Chris and I have recently gotten into a rut which is, quite possibly, one of the most joyous ruts I can think of. We have become addicted to Boston Legal, and every night, we race home to watch as many as we possibly can before we fall asleep on the couch. Free library rentals are my favorite.

It's raining, it's pouring, the old man just got a rabies vaccine.

The trouble with getting behind on blogging is that if you wait too long--nothing seems important enough to say. I mean really. It's not like I can have just any old story break the silence now. It's been... far too long. This mode of thinking, however, has continued to feed the procrastination monster that seems to have completely taken over my once able mind. With that said, I hope I haven't built myself up too much. Because this one is a doozy.

But I digress.

I've come out of hiding to alert you about a current epidemic sweeping my office. Swine Flu? No way. The common cold? As if. No, dear reader, I assure you, it's much more terrifying than that.

What has beady eyes, toxic poop, and a devilishly horrifying scurry?

If you guessed mice, congratulations.

Our office manager has had not one, but two, sightings in her office alone. There have been countless others, and now--I'm officially concerned. You see, the office manager and I have a shared wall and ceiling. Meaning, I could be the victim of the next attack.

Yesterday, at approximately 2:47 pm, a mouse literally fell from the ceiling. After landing on a filing cabinet, he launched himself across the room, and dashed behind some picture frames. The disgusting creature was then stalked by our Director of Communications and Facilities Manager, only to have met his fateful end at the hands of Doug, the Mousey Hunter. And that's just the beginning.

Today another rodent was found dead under a desk. And our print shop specialist is convinced he saw a mouse run across the lobby this morning. Earlier this afternoon, I heard a rustling in my office which sent shivers down my spine. What if I come face to face with the vile thing?

I, for one, can't shake the image of the entire species taking root in our ceiling. I have visions of the indoor roof tiles giving way to a gray haze of vermin falling from the sky.

They are everywhere.

Oh god. What was that sound??

4 weeks went by? You must be kidding.

I had GRAND plans to post while I was on vacation.
I had visions of updating about our amazing trip to Paris; our fabulous travels with Renee; our ridiculousness in Belgium; our theatre experiences in London...


But, alas and alack, I'm reminded of a quote from Ernest Hemingway (that I'm most certainly butchering here): "You don't take a pencil on a lion hunt." Meaning, of course, that you can't really document the most exciting parts of your life... mainly because you're too busy living them. And I can say, without a doubt, that there has been a lot of living crammed into the last four weeks.


It started with our trip to Europe. 5 days in Paris--check. 4 days in the south of France--check. 3 days in Belgium--check. 4 days in London--check. Stopping in 4 countries and traveling for 24 hours to get back to the United States--check.


Then, we quickly turned around (about 26 hours, to be exact) and got on another plane. This time, to Oregon. Jimmy was there (the little bro), and John (the bigger of the little bros) flew out, in an unexpected turn of events, for the 4th of July. There's no time quite like family time--especially Dzundza family time. And it's not just because all of us are so ridiculously good looking. There's so much more to us, (we have our own language, for example) and us kids are so rarely all in the same place; it was a real treat to have some dedicated time together.


After the short reunion, Chris and I flew back to San Diego. I was at home for about 2 hours--mostly to have dinner, repack, and buy a one piece bathing suit. Then I was off to camp at Forest Home with the senior high students from the church. Another fabulous week of frisbee, late night conversation, laughter, and good memories.

And here I am, on Monday, at my new job.

I'm currently reminding myself to breathe.

What. a. trip.

The Case of the Missing Bag

Never joke about losing a bag.

It's never all that funny to begin with, and then when it actually happens--you only have yourself to blame. Well, in this case, you only have your husband to blame.

“Hey Jessie, what if your bag doesn’t make it? Is that covered under traveler’s insurance?” he joked.

“Yep, they'll reimburse me up to $1000 if they lose my bag, and $300 if it’s late by 24 hours or more. For emergencies." I said. "Do you think $300 boots could be classified as an emergency?”

After traveling all night to get to Paris, we soon discovered that my bag was held up for security reasons in San Diego (the bag pictured above belongs to Chris).  So, instead of being on our flight, which arrived early (7:03am, Paris time), it most assuredly was not. I held out hope for a while, but when I saw the last person from our flight walk away from the carousel with luggage in tow, I knew for certain that my trusty friend didn't make it. At least not directly.

Turns out, the folks at American Airlines thought my luggage could use a little side trip to Chicago. So, we waited until that plane landed--which was only about 45 minutes later. 

Thankfully, the folks at the airport in Paris were extremely helpful, and we were reunited in no time. All's well that ends well.

Ministry Assistant to Adult Discipleship

Well, the background check went through and I started training yesterday. I'm at the church for a full three days this week, but I don't officially start until July 13.

Here's a quick list of the things I'm really excited about (in no particular order):

1. My office--yes, office--has its own door and printer.
2. I work 3 miles away from my house.
3. I'm contributing to something bigger than a bottom line.
4. My new boss is invested in me as a person, not just as a professional and/or assistant.
5. I have a built in community of friends.
6. I get to organize and edit.
7. I get to help cast vision for our church.
8. I get to help facilitate real change.
9. I sing when I get home because I'm so happy.
10. This feels right.

The job is an amalgamation of a bunch of different tasks. Yes, there's a lot of admin work, but I'm no stranger to that. And, at the end of the day, I'm doing things to help make a ministry thrive and grow.

I'm so jazzed I can hardly stand it.

All in the Timing

I was in a play called Words, Words, Words by David Ives when I was in high school. It was originally published with other short plays by the same author in a book called All in the Timing. The premise of Words was simple: Given infinite, if you put 3 monkeys in a room with 3 typewriters, eventually they will type Hamlet. Of course, the genius of this play--and most comedic forays--is perfect timing. And I can't help but wonder if sometimes our lives read like such literary pursuits.

Allow me to explain.

It's no secret that I'm not entirely pleased with my current place of employment (to say the least). In fact, most of my postings in the last year have been devoted to the fact that since Harcourt closed its San Diego office in June of 2008, I've been relatively limp as far as my career is concerned. I've mourned the loss of that place and that job for so long. And while I know it was important for me to walk this journey, I can't help but feel a little ridiculous. I spent so much time being bitter and angry... and now I'm feeling a bit bitter and angry that I let myself waste so much time being bitter and angry. (See, it's a vicious cycle.)

Of course, it's easy to feel positive now.

Chris and I are planning a European adventure that I still can't believe is real. We're leaving in TWO WEEKS, and I for one, cannot wrap my brain around it. Our marriage is strong and our relationship is healthy. I'm visiting my parents and brother this weekend.

And, yes, I was offered a new job.

I can't be explicit yet because the offer is pending based on the results of my background check. But, we're 99.9% there. I'll give you three guesses where it is.

Here's a clue... as my dad mentioned when I told him the news: "Jess, God wants you working in his house. And that's a good thing."

Perfect timing.