I've moved!

I'm still writing; you just won't find me here any longer. If you want to keep reading my writing, head over to mollyflinkman.com. I'll keep a cup of coffee warm for you.

Thursday, December 30, 2010


word of the day: identity \ī-ˈden-tə-tē\ the distinguishing character or personality of an individual

I had every intention of writing a new post every day of break. Then these happened:

Instead of writing a blog post every day, I have instead been writing things like, "be more specific", "needs clearer commentary", and "where is your transition?". Occasionally I get to write, "this was refreshing!", "excellent job!", or "hang this one on the fridge!". Breaks become necessary when I find myself writing "huh?" and "this is confusing" more often than I would like.

But, the essays are out of sight and out of mind for the time being. Now it's just me, Ginny, and the random thoughts spinning around in my head. Try to stay with me.

The other day I found myself thinking about things like perfume, Howie Day, and the way I write my "o's". They were all very separate thoughts, and then somehow I think they sort of connected. Let's see if I can make this work (without being too long winded of course).

I found a bottle of Gap Dream lotion at my parents' house last week. I smelled it and was immediately transported back to middle school.
I'm sure I lathered on the dream before my eighth grade formal (see above left). The more you put on, the longer it lasts, right?

The flashback smell got me thinking about all the other significant smells I can remember. For instance, 'Love Spell' will forever remind me of my friend Kara and the time she spilled a bottle all over a bunk at our 9th grade spiritual emphasis retreat. 'Happy' takes me back to high school prom, 'Romantic Wish' reminds me of dates with Jake, and 'Angel Whispers' makes me feel like I have to go to work. My smells have changed with time.

I used to go through song phases in college. For a period of time, my musical tastes centered around a single song and I would listen to that one song until I couldn't stand it any longer. It all started with 'Swing Swing' by the All-American Rejects. From there it was 'Somebody Like You' by Keith Urban, 'Collide' by Howie Day, and 'Hope' by Alli Rogers.

Whenever I hear one of those songs, a very vivid mental picture pops into my mind. 'Somebody Like You' takes me back to football season, 'Collide' puts me back on the Minnesota Road Trip 'O Fun, and 'Hope' places me on my bunk agonizing over my then-crush on Jake.
The above is college Jake in the prime of my secret crush on him. But that's a story for another day.

I like to change my handwriting. In college, I got fancy with my g's:
Most recently, I changed my o's (see above) and added more of a cursive touch to my writing.

A few weeks ago I got tired of the way I write my 4's, so I decided to change them, too.

Apparently your handwriting says a lot about you.

According to this test, I have a strong need for contact, am rational and conservative, and am not very original.

But if that's what my handwriting says about my personality, what does it mean if I change the way I write my 'g's'? Does it altar who I am? Does it change my identity?

I have been surprising myself this week. It's almost like I'm living an out of body experience. It's me, but it's not me. My thoughts and actions aren't necessarily reflective of who I really am.

But this week, that's a good thing.

So what does that mean? Can I just change my personality? Can I just decide one day that I want to think a different way? Or worry less? Or be more thankful?

Maybe, with some effort. But, what does that say about my identity? If I'm constantly changing aspects of my personality, how can I ever know who I really am?

Apparently changing my handwriting doesn't really altar my personality. Apparently, the people who make a living out of analyzing handwriting can tell it's you even if you change your letters. Like, something about your writing stays the same even if you tweak it.

Such is the same about life, I suppose. I can tweak my personality and surprise myself with the way I respond to certain situations. I can change my perfume, song choice, and even the slant of my letters, but at the root of it all, there is something inherent about me that won't change.

At the root of it all is my identity in Christ.

And, at this point, the thought process stops there.

Sunday, December 26, 2010


word of the day: break ˈ\brāk\ an interruption in continuity

Break suits me. I know some people who go crazy with nothing to do on any given day. Me? I am not one of those people. Sunday now marks my 4th full day of winter break and glorious it has been.

It's glorious because I keep forgetting what day it is. The other night I asked Jake if he wanted to watch Saturday Night Live. We turned the television on only to remember that it was Thursday.

It is glorious because so far I have woken up AFTER the sun every morning. Take that sun. You don't get to laugh at my sleepy eyes for another week.

Glorious is when you watch an entire season of Parks and Recreation in three days. I suppose a more impressive feat would have been one day, but Jake and I were pretty pleased with our accomplishment.

It has been glorious to put the hustle and bustle on hold to sit on my couch enjoying my husband. I didn't leave his side for three straight days, and boy, I needed that.

It is no secret that I am a quality time person. In fact, I once freaked Jake out in college by calculating and complaining about the exact amount of minutes we had seen each other one week. And by exact, I mean that the magic number was 52. I'm not sure how I arrived at that number, but apparently I came off a little high strung...

I am totally freaked out by medical school because I know the quality time I get to spend with Jake will be drastically less and I am a wreck during the times he leaves me because I miss him so dang much.
But through it all I am learning, and again (thanks to Jake) am forcing myself to look at the big picture.

Time doesn't define our relationship and if anything, the lack of it reminds me to appreciate him more.

But I don't feel like dwelling on that for too long. Break isn't for dwelling on any one thing too long. At least not today.

On a totally unrelated and much more superficial note, Christmas was also glorious.

Ginny rocked out her Christmas sweater, of course.

And, thanks to my mom, enjoyed the goodies in her stocking.

Again, don't judge me. It's break, people.

Sunday, December 19, 2010


word of the day: hiatus \hī-ˈā-təs\ an interruption in time or continuity, especially : a period when something (as a program or activity) is suspended or interrupted

I'm baaaaack.

I recognize that it wasn't a very long hiatus. But I think it's the longest in the existence of this here blog, and it was starting to get to me. It's a strange responsibility a blog puts on you. The requirement of writing without any real requirement at all. Whatever that means.

Today is all about stream of consciousness. Because, I may be back from hiatus, but there's too much other stuff on the to do list to try to make a coherent thought. As I like to tell Jake, it's impossible to uncross my wires. But that's a blog for another day.

We visited Nate in Kansas a few weeks ago. We hadn't seen him in six months: the longest hiatus in our friendship thus far. Our lives were made complete again during the 36 hours we spent with him. I'm convinced that when he goes back to Utah he takes a little piece of us with him. It's not soul-splitting or anything, but still...

We took our Christmas card pictures last weekend. The letters and cards are stuffed ready to be mailed, but I thought a sneak preview might be nice. It's not the actual Christmas card pic, but I'm sure you'll get the idea...

In case you can't tell, Ginny has a rockin' Christmas sweater that I found at Target for $2.50. Don't judge me. You would have bought it too.

Speaking of Ginny, she has a new favorite perch lately:

We played in the snow today, Ginny and I. I couldn't resist the snowfall outside, so I tucked my sweatpants into my boots, threw on my coat, and ran around taking pictures of the ball of white fluff frolicking in the fresh snow. How's that for alliteration?

Ok, so I added snow to that one. But I promise the snow was actually falling when I took the picture.
I told you today was all about stream of consciousness. And with that, the hiatus is officially over. I can't say the same about Jake and Ginny's current game of tug-of-war:

Wednesday, December 1, 2010


word of the day: cheer \ˈchir\ something that gladdens

The Christmas season is upon us.

And my cup of Christmas cheer overfloweth. Yes, overfloweth.

Jake and I spent our evening last night decorating the pool house.

We set up the Christmas tree, nativity scenes, garland lights and stockings.

We hung our silver bulbs, colored bulbs, and modge-podge growing up bulbs (you know, the ones that get passed down from your tree growing up). There is no rhyme or reason to the order and the tinsel is 'sprinkled' on as large globs of silver. Literally.

It's perfect.

Ginny was especially helpful with the homemade popcorn chain this year. And by helpful, I mean she ate about as much popcorn as now hangs on our tree. What that dog won't do for some free handouts.

All that begging really does tire you out, I guess.

There's not much to say other than the fact that the Christmas season is in full force. I think it's safe to say that the snow flurries yesterday officially kicked Fall out of town. I suppose it was time.

For now, I'm perfectly content to drink warm hot chocolate and to sit on my couch listening to every rendition of "Jingle Bell Rock" imaginable.

As long as Jake's not far away with his red flannel pants.

Oh and Ginny.