Dear Facebook,

I love your application for so many reasons. Not only can I keep in contact with old and new friends, but I can also over-share with new coworkers while broadcasting to the entire world that “Yes, I will go out of my way to step on a crunchy looking leaf.”

Despite your many benefits, I do have to tell you that I have come across a major flaw in your application that needs immediate attention. When connecting with other profiles, you only have one option; you must request friendship. While I can see how this would seem like the perfect way to share profiles and information, but I would like to point out that not everyone in a person’s life sphere can fall under the category of  “Friends.”

Let me give you an example. I just started at a new job 3 months ago. I love my job. LOVE my job. I have started receiving friend requests from people at work to join my Facebook network. At first, I will admit I was slightly hesitant to add co-workers to the inner workings of my life. Pressing “accept” meant that they would know what I was doing after work, what I looked like on the weekends, or worse, if I was playing on Facebook during work hours.

After much debate, I decided I would accept. As I said before, I LOVE my job, and wouldn’t want to do anything to impede my relationships with the people I work with. And we all know that a Facebook denial is like a passive aggressive way of saying “I don’t really like you.”

A funny thing did happen this week however. I got  a friend request from someone I work with. I didn’t immediately recognize their picture. But as I poured over their profile pictures,  I realized that I had indeed met them. In fact, I’d met them several times. They were the unfriendly person in the lunch room. The person I would smile and say, “Good Morning, how are you?” almost every morning while I poured my coffee. And they would return a closed lipped smile, say nothing, turn on their heel and rush off.

So you can imagine I was a bit baffled to find their request for friendship. We aren’t friends. In fact, I don’t know that this person has ever actually spoken to me before. If I was to see them in a dark bar, I wouldn’t be able to decipher whether or not I knew them.

Clearly, accepting a friend request would be a farce. But conversely, choosing denial would be like the kiss of death at work. It would only be a matter of days before other departments would be whispering in the bathroom about how unfriendly I am.

Clearly Facebook, a solution needs to be found. And I can tell you what that solution is. You need to add an “Acquaintance Request.” This would be made for people that you sort of know, but not really. It a good way to tell people “I like you… a lot even. I probably wouldn’t call you on a Friday night to see what you are up to, but I most likely would stop by your desk on Monday to see how your weekend was.”

In addition to the Acquaintance Request, I think you should implement an “I Know of this Person Request.” This would have saved my butt last week. It’s a polite way of saying, “I know who this person is, but I never really talk to them in real life. In fact, if I passed them in the hallway at work I would most likely ignore them even though I totally stalk their profile pictures when I’m cruising Facebook in the evening.”

Facebook, these two small adjustments would make my whole life a lot easier. With the use of these two new features, I would stop feeling guility for having Google people to remember who they are, and what party we talked for  five seconds which apparently constituted us a “Friends.” It would mean that I wouldn’t have to worry that I am going to piss off my co-workers. And even better yet, it would mean that I wouldn’t have to remember to login a week later to delete all of the “friends” I’d accepted in an effort to save face, but I really had no intention of keeping.

Thanks Facebook for your time an attention on this very important issue. Keep up the good work.

Love,

Jenni Brown

ps – can you cut a deal with FarmVille to get me some Mansions? I really want a Mansion on my farm.

Today I got an alert from my phone while I was cleaning my room and painting my nails. It said:

“90 days is over”

When I started my job, and basically my entire life turned on a dime this past fall, I set myself an alert. I gave myself 90 days. 90 days to get acclimated to my new job. 90 days to move into the new apartment. 90 days to recover from being burglarized. 90 days to figure out how to rehabilitate an very neglected, angry, and adorable puppy. 90 days to figure out how to get settled even though in real life, nothing has settled. In fact, the last 90 days have been the most hectic, intrusive, inconvenient, and stressful days of my life.

However, if I  know that one thing in life is true, it is this: it doesn’t stop. Life doesn’t slow down. Burglars still come. The gas company will still turn off your gas right before you’re throwing a huge party. Your puppy will never care that it is 2am and you have a presentation at work in the morning, she will throw a fit and fight with you anyway. That’s just how life works. And we learn to live with it, deal with it, and still make time for the things that matter.

So, what matters to me? This blog. My writing projects. Book ideas that have never gotten onto paper. Picture cook books that have to be completed before my grandma closes her eyes a final time.

A few weeks ago, I read something on CopyBlogger that was talking about the habits of successful people. Interestingly, the author was saying that truely successful people don’t juggle a million things. They have one thing that really matters, and they focus on it, they work it, they put in the hard hours, and they do it well. And that really got me thinking, “what projects matter to me?”

So, thank you phone alarm for notifying me that the break is over. The “break” of the last 90 days was anything but restful, but if this part of my life ever going to grow, then we just must make space for it. Its safe to say that Jenni Brown will be writing again.

As should you. Find your projects. Don’t juggle all one thousand great ideas you have, find the one, and make it work.

Last night I was out with some friends, chatting about new things that are going on in each of our lives. Within the last six months, one of my friends left her design firm and opened her own business. Another friend of mine started a new job at an Interactive Agency five months ago, and just found out last night that she is getting promoted. And of course, I just started a new role a few days ago where I am finding that trial by fire is going to be my course in learning.

The last gal in our group is a mom. She has several kids, the oldest of which is six. She laughed with us and said, “You know girls, it never goes away. You never get that feeling that you know what you are doing.”

She the went on to tell us that a few weeks ago, she wasn’t sure how to discipline her six year old for something he’d done. Feeling frustrated, she grabbed her head and said to him, “I don’t know what to do with a six year old!” Calmly, her son looked back at her and said, “It’s ok Mommy, can’t we look on the internet? We can just Google it.”

Read the rest of this entry »

I started my new job yesterday, and I walked out the door at 5 pm with a really interesting feeling. I felt completely legitimate. I felt affirmed that I was a real communications professional. I wasn’t an admin. I wasn’t a minion in HR. I was a real-life-professional-MarCom associate.

It was mostly the little things that proved it. I have a Cicso phone with my name and extension displayed across the top. I have a laptop and two huge flat screen monitors across my desk. I got six meeting notices yesterday (on my first day!), and they had titles like “MarCom Team Brain Storm Shesh” and “PR Update Meeting.” The walls on my cubical are made out of frosted glass and most of the office uses whiteboard marker to doodle, leave each other notes, or brainstorm all over the walls.

Walking out the front door and saying goodnight to the receptionist was such a mind blowing feeling. If I could be this cheesy, it was like I was thinking, “This is real, I’m a creative person, and I have a creative job. I am legit. And I have a Cisco Phone display to prove it.”

Now here is the funny part, quickly on the heels of that realization comes this thought, “Of course you are legitimate Jenni. You always were. And your meeting notices and write-able walls don’t change that.” I mean, I’ve been published before. I’ve even been paid for some of my articles. I’m currently a managing editor on the side for one of my favorite Orange County volunteer story platforms. And those were all things that I did while sitting at my bar, typing into my computer while in my pajamas and drinking coffee.

So why is it that having a card with my name on it feels so rewarding? Oh right, probably the part where I have get a paycheck, and it comes every single week. And maybe it’s the part where I have to get up work in something other than workout pants. That probably helps too.

Now, if I was going to be “that Christian Writer, “this is the part where I make some connection to us being legitimate in Jesus. You know, where I take my experience and connect it to the idea that we don’t always realize who we already were. That we think we need a certain things to define us. That we look  for jobs, or boyfriends, or cars, or bank accounts to remind us of who we are. But in reality, we already were completely legitimate and affirmed, even when we didn’t have any of those things and just sat at the bar in our pajamas.

And then I would challenge you to think of the things in your life that you hold closely, to tell you who you are. To whisper that you are real, and that you are important. I would ask you what your meeting notices say, and how they make you feel.

I would do those things if I was trying to be cheesy, and draw God into this example. But, I’m I think my readers already know that they’re legitimate, and incorporating into this post would feel forced. So, I won’t remind you that your identity is found in Christ. That you are beautiful, accepted, acknowledged, received, recognized, suitable, relevant, invaluable, noble and pleasing.

See this is why I love my readers, because I don’t have to remind them, they already know.

I recently read Rob Bell’s newest book Drops Like Stars for an interview that I’m doing. It is undescribebale. It’s actually a coffee table book, with bold pictures and artistic placement of words, and very real stories from interesting people.

There is a part at the end of the book that really has stuck with me. He’s talking about a sculptor and her love hate relationship with her art. How it’s tumultuous, painful, and agonizing. Yet she is so emotionally connected to her work, it is like its a part of her soul.

And when it is all finished, it is the pain that gives it meaning. It is the struggle for the art to come out of the clay that makes it beautiful. That the parts of the art that are tarnished and ruined are the very parts that make it valid and valuable.

It is then that Bell poses the question, “Was this sculptor really talking about art? Or is this life?”

Right in the Middle

This season has been interesting in that it has been painful. Or maybe I need to knock the words “this season” from my vocabulary, because maybe that’s just life. It’s painful. It asks a lot from us. Good lives do anyway. They’re scary. Art is scary. Doing something worthwhile is terrifying.

But I think Im in a moment where Im on the fence between beautiful and painful. I see both. I feel both. And this is one of the few moments in my life where I wouldn’t change the painful hard parts. They are so integral from this view. Taking them out of the picture would render the whole thing meaningless. The beauty has validity because it was painful. Read the rest of this entry »

As I have grown in my relationship with God, I have become very aware of a mistake that most of us make as Christians. I owe this though in most of its entirety to Patrick Dodson, because I’m pretty sure that he thought of it first and then told it to me.

Most of us view God like He’s our personal drill sergeant. Now, initially you might think that sounds a bit too harsh or not quite right, but how often do you hear your friends or yourself saying things like, “God please just tell me where I should go, what is your will in this situation? I’ll follow you wherever you lead me.”

Sounds like a good christian prayer right?  I’ve heard people say things like this more times than I can count. But when you think about what is really being asked we are saying, “God just give me orders, and I will do exactly what you say.“  I.E., we want to be passive participants in our lives, (”Jesus take the wheel”  …thank you Carrie Underwood) and let God do the ordering and thinking. I can’t help but think that methodology is bit off. Or if it was the right approach, I would understand why so many people think religion is a crutch. Read the rest of this entry »

After yesterday’s post about Christian Hipsters and Hymns, I know that a lot of you walked around for the rest of the day worried. I know you were asking yourself, “Shoot, am I a Christian hipster? I like hymns, but I’m not sure if I classify as a hipster! If only there was a way to find out!”

Look no further my friends, because today in the voice of my dear blogging friend, Jon Acuff of Stuff Christians Like, I have devised a way for you to tell if you are a Christian Hipster or not.

You Might Be a Christian Hipster If:

1. Your church resembles a cross between Ikea and  Urban Outfitters (2 pts). Raw beams are hanging around, it feels like a loft with all of the exposed building interiors, and there are trendy wicker chairs in the lobby. Read the rest of this entry »

I think most cool Christians go through a phase where they really love hymns. You know, the old stuff that they used to sing in churches that had wooden pews. Maybe your church still has wooden pews, but mine has cushy red chairs. There is no wooden shelf in the row ahead to hold a bible and a Hymnal. There is no leader at the front telling us to “turn to page 117” and we can find prayers that were probably written by monks in caves. We assume they’re English because we can understand about half of the words, but the other half we have to guess at, or we can just add -eth to the end to make it fit the vernacular (panteth, shareth, understandeth…see?)

Even still, I think most cool Christians go through a phase where they really love hymns. And I have hesitated writing on it because I think the classic branding of a “Hipster Christian” is if you are wearing dark skinny jeans and telling your friends that God really “touched me to press into him…because you know, I want my soul to pant-eth after him like the deer…”

I don’t wear skinny jeans, and I match my clothes too much to be considered a hipster, so I’ve avoided the topic. But I can’t deny it anymore. I’m sorry if this means you have to re-categorize me in you mind from “real edgy writer” to quintessential  hipster Christians who find deep meaning and beauty in hymns…but I’m joining their team. I’ve had hymns running through my mind for literally 3 weeks on end. Morning, noon and night. I play them on YouTube when I think that no one is watching. Maybe I feel better indulging myself when I think that no one knows that I rock out to music that’s written in New King James-ian speak.

It is Well With My Soul

Ok, as long as we are in confession time, I have to tell you…I’ve loved this song for a long time. A really really long time. You see, a few years ago I’d heard the story with this song. Apparently the man who wrote the song had his entire family tragically killed in a boating accident or something to that effect (it was much more complicated, but did involve a boat and death). One minute he was a happy man, 3 hours later his wife, kids, everything…gone. Read the rest of this entry »

I don’t know if you felt it, but something shifted this past week. I think I even felt the change before it happened, because I remember turning to HNB and asking, “Do you feel that? Change is coming, I can feel it in the air.”

As predicted, today that shift shouts gently in the background. To me it seems almost as if there is a light crispness in the air. I’m still searching for the right words to describe it, but I think it has something to do with the fact that we have officially left Summer and have entered the Fall.

Autumn has always been my favorite season, and every year my mind spins to try to capture why. I’m not sure if it’s the gorgeous reds, yellows, and oranges. I don’t know if it’s the pacifying feeling of pulling pea coats out of the closet, or if it’s the aroma of sweet and spiced coffees in the brisk mornings. It could be the contented excitement that washes over me when I think about how many meals need to be prepared in the next few months. There are spiced loaves, turkey dinners, prime rib Christmases, holiday drinks and parties to be had.

I don’t claim to be a Betty Crocker, but I have been so excited for Fall cooking that I have already started looking up recipes. I’ve been telling HNB for a few weeks now that I’m excited to cook Thanksgiving dinner and to host our friends for an evening of relaxation and eatery.

But the feeling in the air is bigger than excitement to cook. It’s a feeling of change. Maybe even good change. It’s a feeling that laughter is on its way. It’s a feeling that there are memories to be made, friendships to be strengthened, wine bottles to be opened, and champagne bottles to be popped. There are engagements to be had, weddings to go to, and Christmas parties to attend. There are scarves to be worn, fall boots to be purchased, and coats to be wrapped in.

And even more than this, there are thanks to be had. Thanks that the fall is here and the world is about to be stunningly beautiful in crisp colors and scents. Thanks to be given that the darkest parts of the economic crash might be behind us, and that our nation is forging forward. Thanks that in the trying parts of this last year we were able to hold to what was important, to grow with our families, to spend our money on things that mattered, and give our time to things that were noble.

There are stories to be written this fall. There are beautiful stories begging to leap off of the pages and into action within our days. There are daring stores, sacrificial stories, and epic stories. And for me, in my mind, these grand stories and adventures are embodied in the leaves that fall, crisp and brown, reminding us that change has come. Autumn is here.

Lately a few close friends in my life have gone through some pretty heavy breakups. I’m talking about the two-year-I-thought-we-were-going-to-get-married kind of breakups. The kind where they need to get new music, new friends, and even change their perfume to escape the memories of their ex.

And of course, part of being a girl is sitting around and hashing through their feelings with them, why things didn’t work, and what they should do going forward to help the pain stop. Most of these conversations have involved lying on the couch, stroking their hair, lots of tissues, drinking beers and Yogurtland (hey, I’ve dated a lot and had my heart stomped a few times…I know the tricks of the trade).

Aside from the ways that my friends have been hurting, it has been an interesting process for me as well. Part of working through their heartbreak is to affirm their emotions with similar experiences that I have had in my own dating life, and share stories of my own mistake and heartache. It has been surreal to look back on my early twenties and the kind of men (or arguably boys) that I was attracted to and the kinds of relationships that I had. Part of me looks through those years of my life can’t help but feel awe. Primarily, because I survived. I’ve had some deep cuts to this little heart of mine, and it is constantly surprising to realize that I’m still here, that I’m not jaded, and that I still believe in love.

Last night while standing in my kitchen, my brokenhearted girlfriend says to me, “Dang Jenni, you are so smart about this stuff. How do you freaking know all this?”

I honestly laughed so hard I almost spit out my beer. “If by smart you mean I’ve learned through my own many and painful mistakes, then maybe…” I suppose that dating is something that I’ve done a lot of, and hadn’t realize how much I’ve grown over the years, how much I’d changed, and how much I’d healed until I went back through it in my kitchen last night. It was almost astonishing. Read the rest of this entry »