The Wiggly Rice

Experiment

2009-07-10T23:55:00.002-04:00

Hey, everybody. I'm conducting a bit of an experiment. An experiment with my life.

So for a while, I'll be posting at another blog address. I don't know why I'm switching sites. Maybe I just need a fresh start.

The address is lifebydays.blogspot.com.

Hope to see you there.

Peace.

How to suck people into your blog (mwahahahahaha!)

2009-06-20T17:24:00.000-04:00

Write a post and link to an older post in it.

Then cackle and do a gooney dance.

Hypocrite

2009-06-19T17:03:00.003-04:00

I get annoyed with other people for not updating their blogs very often.

And because I feel (a little) guilty for my hypocrisy, I'll post a picture.

This picture was taken a week or so ago. Jeff and I are standing on the little dock mentioned at the end of this blog post.

A guy rode by on his bike and commented on how great a scene it was with us, the water and the pink sky and he asked if he could take a picture. I told him hell no.

I thought of something

2009-06-17T17:55:00.004-04:00

Recently, I overheard Jeff and a mutual friend talking about the kind of work they do. They are each in non-traditional fields (8-5 work hours are the exception rather than the rule) and they were discussing the dream job versus the backup plan. Jeff said that he had recently heard, "If you want to make it in comic books, don't have a backup plan. If you have a backup plan, you'll do the backup plan. If you don't have one, if you have no choice but to make comics work out for you, that's the only way you'll ever succeed, because making it in comics is hard."

I think being a CFO is my backup plan.

Not that I want to succeed in the comics field, mind you. But this isn't what I want to do with my life.

But I am afraid.

I am afraid that even if I don't have a backup plan, I won't work very hard at the dream. And I'm afraid I don't really know what the dream is. In fact, I actually said once that my goal was to be a CFO. Now here I am, and I don't like it. What if it's like that with the next dream? What if I burn the bridges to my backup plan, work really really hard at what I think is the dream, and then I don't like the dream? That'd be bad. And what if I can't even decide what today's dream even is?

But then I think about the 40-year-old me and I am terrified of what she will say about what I did with my life. I'm afraid she'll say, "Why didn't you just DO something?"

Which thing am I afraid of more?

Why I need an iPhone

2009-06-17T17:04:00.002-04:00

I think of lots of things I want to write about on my blog. But then when I sit down at the computer, I can't think of any of them.

I firmly believe that an iPhone would help me.

(And I'm only halfway trying to think of an excuse to get an iPhone.)

That's what she gets

2009-06-04T22:15:00.001-04:00

Autumn spent a few minutes tonight looking for her tennis ball that she lost. I couldn't find it at first, either. But then I realized she LEFT IT ON THE COUNTER.

What was she doing up there, anyway?

Bad dog.

Blog entry in which I use the work "sucks" a lot.

2009-06-01T22:32:00.003-04:00

Tonight, I found out that a friend of mine is hurting. Like "life is really sucking" kind of hurting.

And it sucks. I hate it when that happens, when people do what God said they should (or could) do and then it ends up being really painful. I won't say I know how he feels, but, man, do I know how he feels.

And even though I've "been there," I'm still at a loss for what I can do to help. When I was struggling most after moving to Philly and having a hard time finding friends even (especially) among God's people and feeling unfulfilled in my work, the only thing that I think would have been useful would have been just having someone listen to me. Let me talk and just listen and not even try to comfort me. Because the situation still is what it is and it still sucks. And then just say, "Yeah, that sucks. I'm sorry."

BJ, I'm listening to you (and by that I mean I'm reading your blog.) I pray that God sends someone to listen to you in person.

And until then - man, that sucks. I'm sorry, dude.

Crazy Dog

2009-06-01T13:40:00.004-04:00

Last week at work, there was some sort of fancy event that required the presence of several 9-ft palm trees. After the event was over, the trees were up for grabs so I took one home.

My husband was a little surprised when I got home and asked him if he'd get the tree out of my car.

Anyway, I'm not really sure what to do with a palm tree. It won't get enough light in the house and I don't think I can plant it outside because it won't survive the winter here in Philly. For the time being, I decided to just take it outside, but then wind kept blowing it over and I'd pick it back up, and the wind would blow it over again and then...

So that got old. I finally moved it to the corner of the yard with the intention of anchoring it to the fence even though I still haven't done that yet. But with a few bricks to prop it up, it managed to stand up pretty well without it. So that was good.

But then...

Hurricane Autumn hit. You know about Autumn, right? Autumn is such a sweet dog and is very enthusiastic about just about everything. Just a happy little girl. But there are some things we don't want her to do and not only does she do them, she does them enthusiastically. Like eat poop. Like eat my plants, including azaleas, which are poisonous to dogs. Like drag my new 9-ft palm tree around the back yard.

I went outside to survey the damage and she decided it was time to play "crazy dog." She just ran every direction all at once at fast as she could go. There was lots of jumping over the fallen tree and slamming herself against the back door and then running to the gate and then slamming herself against the door again and then jumping over the tree and just going crazy. As I moved the tree back to the corner of the yard, she kept trying to bite at this one branch and every time I yelled, "No!" she just turned crazy dog up a notch. Once the tree was out of the game, she was down to running to the gate and then slamming against the door and running to the gate and slamming against the door and running to the gate and...

Autumn turns a year old this week. I think it's pretty safe to say that I have very high expectations of how calm "Adult Autumn" will be.

Please say a prayer for us all.

Baby Names

2009-05-20T23:36:00.002-04:00

No, I'm not pregnant. Let me start with that.

I was reading MckMama's blog about baby names today, and then I started reading a bunch of the comments that had been left.

There were several comments that said something like, "I'm from the south, so there are lots of kids in my family with surnames as their first name."

This really makes me laugh! Because the last names in my family would make TERRIBLE first names:

Wear
Howell
Murchison
Goza
Lewis
Ross

Okay, so Lewis and Ross wouldn't be that bad, but I don't really like them. And can you imagine name your daughter Goza? Or your son Howell? And who would name their kid Wear?

What about you? What sort of family name could you give your kid?

PS I knew a guy once whose middle name was Flake.
PPS My grandma's name was Fairy.

Jackpot

2009-05-11T23:51:00.005-04:00

I promise I'll never complain again. Ever. Not now that I know where it gets me.

You remember my last post, right? Well, guess what! I've got a story for ya!

Let me recount for you the last 15 minutes of my life:

I was lying in bed reading. The intention was to get to bed at a reasonable hour, preferably closer to 11 than to midnight. Jeff was downstairs reading the internet (he reads the entire thing everyday, you know) and Autumn was at his feet chewing a bone.

Suddenly I hear commotion! I hear Jeff say, "Oh, man, that's really gross. Ugh."

Autumn works up quite a saliva lather when she's chewing, and I assumed that Jeff had gotten slimed. But then he says it again, "Oh, man. That's disgusting. Ugh. Gross."

I hear Jeff come up the stairs. Then I hear a familiar sound - the sound of a dog puking. Splat.

"Meredith? Can you come help me?"

A little apprehensive by this point, I got up and went out into the hall and turned on the light. Massive pile of dog puke on the landing, right where Jeff would have stepped had he kept going in the dark.

He says, "There's a bigger pile downstairs. I'm about to throw up."

Here's the thing though. Dog puke is one thing. But did you forget? OUR DOG EATS POOP!

That's right, people. Our sweet little Autumn, the one that the vet said just today was JUST FINE, PERFECTLY HEALTHY, had just thrown up her own poop.

And then Jeff and I spent about 10 minutes (or more) trying to clean the whole mess up. It still smells like poop. We need some Febreeze off in here.

If you ever come into my house, I will NEVER TELL YOU WHERE IT HAPPENED. So don't ask.

Man, the mommy bloggers are on to something. This is way more fun that writing about how Jeff and I spent the evening watching Dancing With the Stars, and he put up with my own professional critique of the dancers...

I'm starting a new trend

2009-05-05T17:34:00.003-04:00

The Wife Blogs. Are there any out there? Blogs of women who are wives, but not moms? I mean, is a woman's life not blog-worthy until she has children? Do I not have anything interesting to say until I can talk about snot and poop and sore nipples?

I guess not, cuz I sure haven't had much to say recently.

Don't get me wrong, I sure do love me some mommy blogs. (I won't tell you how many I read on a daily basis.) But I don't like that I end up feeling a little discontent and boring because I am JUST A WIFE.

Although now that I think about it, I bet a lot of mommy blogs started out as wife blogs and, well, things just happened.

In case you were wondering

2009-04-10T20:39:00.002-04:00

We figured out why Autumn's burps smell so bad.

It's because she eats poop.

Cuz that's all I've got

2009-03-29T22:42:00.003-04:00

I think I'm figuring out why it has been so hard for me to post more regularly here on this blog. I used to love it so much, and something has to be wrong for it to seem so much like a chore for me. But I think I connected some dots tonight.

Life in Philly has been hard. I've said that before. But I've been a little embarrassed to share any more than that, other than "life is hard."

There are so many great things going on for me, and I feel like you'll think I'm being melodramatic or ungrateful. And maybe I am.

But the truth is, this sucks. There are times when I don't think I am a good wife, or a good employee, or a good daughter or a good sister, or a good friend. And so why do I deserve your sympathy?

If I have a good marriage with a man that I love, who is so right for me in so many ways, why do I ever sit on the floor of my closet and cry, unable to think of a single friend I can call who can really meet me where I am and not misunderstand me, or think I'm weak or dramatic or ungrateful?

I'm tired. I'm imperfect. I don't think you think that good enough is good enough. That I am good enough. And I'm not. But that's just gonna have to be good enough.

I'm sick

2009-03-15T22:48:00.002-04:00

It's not terrible. Just a cold. But it's enough to make me feel yucky.

I complain when I am sick. I think a lot of people do this, so I feel justified, or at least validated. My husband has been very sweet to me today by listening to me complain. Also, I told him I was hungry and he asked what I wanted and I said Banana Nut Cheerios and he asked if we had any and I said no so he went and got some, God bless him.

He also bought me some NyQuil. Did you know...?

1. NyQuil is 10% alcohol. I sure didn't know that. No wonder the label warns you about liver disease if you take too much.
2. NyQuil has high fructose corn syrup. That stuff is in EVERYTHING. It will soon take over the world.
3. One of the warnings says, "Failure to follow these warnings could result in serious consequences." Could you be a little more vague, please?
4. It also says, "Do not use to make a child sleep." Why not? I am sure using it to make an adult sleep...

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz......................

What a bargain!

2009-03-13T12:28:00.004-04:00

As a finance person, I work with numbers and spreadsheets a lot. But when you work with numbers a lot, you frequently end up making mistakes just from typing things incorrectly. There are tricks though to help you figure out what you did wrong.

If you are off by 3 (or 300 or 3,000,) it generally means you accidentally hit the wrong key in the column on your 10- key, like in the middle of a long number, your finger didn’t make it all the way to the 7 and hit the 4 instead.

If you are off by a factor of 9, it usually means you entered numbers in reverse, like 5627 instead of 5267. It can take me FOREVER to find those.

The other day, I was off by 3. I hate being off by 3, because the amount of work you have to put into finding those stupid $3 hardly seems worth it, but I can’t not do it. I HAVE to find it.

As I was working, I changed my facebook status to "Meredith is $3 off."

It wasn’t until two days later that I realized I made it sound as if I had gone on sale.

A tiny bit closer

2009-03-03T22:00:00.001-05:00

I worked on another chair today. I finished taking the back off. Two down, two to go. Did I mention its hard and there are a lot of staples?

I gave up TV for Lent

2009-03-02T18:02:00.002-05:00

I used to not watch much TV. Jeff and I don't have cable, so we only get local stuff and sometimes rabbit ears don't get great reception, so we didn't even hook them up to the TV. So for about a year after we bought the house, we didn't watch much TV. We'd watch stuff on DVD, like Gilmore Girls or Lost, but no live TV. I felt a little out of it when people would talk about, "You know that commercial where..." and I'd say, "No, I don't know, I don't watch TV." I felt a little self-righteous. Shocking, I know.

Last summer, as the summer Olympics were approaching, I knew we'd have to do something. You may not know this about me, but I sure do love the Olympics. When the Olympics are on, I basically do nothing else for two weeks except work, sleep, and watch the Olympics. So we found the rabbit ears down in the basement and made sure we got good reception on NBC so that when the time came, there would be nothing to stop my two-week TV binge.

It all worked flawlessly.

Except that after the Olympics were over, I kept watching TV. I feel okay with some of it, like Jeopardy or Wheel of Fortune, but a few months ago I started in with the trash TV, like The Bachelor and True Beauty. I've also been watching The Biggest Loser, but don't try to make me feel bad for that one, cuz it won't work. (But you could make me feel bad for sitting on the couch eating cookies while watching it, but I would rather you didn't. Thanks.)

So for Lent, I decided to give up TV. So far, it has been interesting. No, "interesting" isn't the right word. It's more like "boring." What did I used to do with myself before I watched TV?

I'm pretty sure the fact that I am asking myself this question means that giving up TV for Lent was a good idea.

So from now until Easter, here is what I HOPE I do with all my extra time:
1. Read more.
2. Blog more.
3. Cook more.
4. Get ready for company (which involves about 12 small project, like finishing my chairs, which haven't been touched in two months.)

And even though I'm gonna miss the season finales of The Bachelor and The Biggest Loser, I'm pretty sure I'll like my life a little more for doing this.

At least once I get the hang of it.

A project I have started

2009-01-01T21:30:00.006-05:00

And I hope I will finish.

I have a pretty bad track record at finishing things I start, especially if the thing takes longer than an hour to complete. Hopefully, if I chronicle my progress here, I will be inspired to actually finish.

Some background:

Much of the furniture in our house came from the trash. I mean, you know, not literally a trash can, but pretty often around here, people decide to get rid of things and they just put them out on the sidewalk for anyone to take. So we take. Because one person's trash is another's treasure.

Here are our most recent acquisitions:

We got four of these chairs and they all basically look like this. They are decent chairs, but they require some cosmetic work, which will take an undetermined amount of time to complete.

1. Remove old cushions.
2. Touch up the wood.
3. Re-cover and reattach cushions.

My sis-in-law re-covered some chairs a few months ago, and they look great. I helped a (very) little bit, and it didn't seem that complicated. I'm still not sure what I'm going to do with the wood, but hopefully that'll come to me later.

So, tonight I started working on the chairs.

The first thing I did was remove the fabric from the upright part of the chair. This was actually pretty freaking hard. The back layer was attached to the chair with a lot of freaking staples. Then there was padding. Then there was the front layer, again with the crapload of staples. Then there was the ribbing around the entire edge. More staples. So I only did one chair. It was hard and I started getting complainy.

Then I (I mean, my husband, under my close supervision) unscrewed the seat cushions from all the chairs.

Here's what we have now:

Upon closer inspection of the nekkid chair, we see:

1. The wood on that decorative middle piece is actually very nice.
2. There are staple holes everywhere. (You may have to click the picture to enlarge it in order to see the staple holes.)

Also, one of the other chairs has wood that looks a little greenish or something.

Ooky!

So here's the plan. A few weeks ago, I bought this fabric at a thrift store. The seat cushions will be re-covered with this.

( Do you see the cute little Autumn butt and tail?)

Also, I will smooth out the wood where all the staples holes and various other imperfections (both previously existing and newly created during the staple removing process) are and will paint the chairs black.

That is the plan.

Ask me about it occasionally will ya? I'd like to get these finished by the end of 2009, and I think I may need some prodding.

If you think Autumn's eye is gross

2008-12-11T22:33:00.005-05:00

You should smell her burps. I don't know how I ended up with a dog whose burps (burps!) smell like diarrhea. It's gross.

I am making a face right now. An I'm-smelling-something-gross face. In fact, Jeff just came downstairs and said, "Why the face?"

Then he decided to go back upstairs because it stinks in the living room.

Something I figured out

2008-12-09T12:05:00.002-05:00

I am new to the world of short hair, and I am a little slow sometimes. Here is something I just figured out about my new, short hair.

The trick is not always to get your hair to do what you want. Sometimes that is impossible. In those instances, you just gotta make it LOOK like you got your hair to do what you want.

And then own it.

Another way to get people to come to your blog

2008-12-06T00:03:00.003-05:00

Post pictures!!

Okay, so I read Staci's blog. She has basenjis, which are African hunting dogs. African tribal hunters used to carry these small dogs in what is called the native carry.

Here's what it looks like.

As a part of her 365 self portrait project, Staci took a picture of herself doing the native carry with one of her own dogs.

Looks easy, right?

I don't have an African hunting dog. I have a Welsh herding dog. But I decided to try the native carry anyway.

Yeah, not really the same effect. I mean, I look okay in this picture, but poor Dylan looks like a tubbo. I swear he's not fat. Corgis are just thick dogs. Really.

Why I don't post often enough

2008-12-04T12:49:00.004-05:00

I'm not going to discuss all the reasons. I'm not sure that I even know all the reasons. (Some of them have to do with my mental/emotional condition at the moment.)

But, I have figured at least one of them out:

I think too much about who is reading this.

Thinking about your audience is usually a good thing. It helps you figure out topics and language and stuff. But this is a blog. And what are you supposed to write about on a blog? WHATEVER YOU WANT. This is about me. I get to write what I want.

But still, I get stuck on that.

Here is a sample thought process: "Do I really want that former co-worker who I know reads my blog to read this?"

Then suddenly, I can't think of anything that I want that person to know.

Of course, I could also be thinking of someone I work with NOW, or someone I go to church with, or a high school friend who found me on facebook or an old boyfriend.

It doesn't matter, the result is the same. I can't think of anything I want to say to any/all of those people.

I don't like that. I'm going to try to get over it. If a person is afraid of others knowing their thoughts or interests, they shouldn't write a blog.

Capisce?

What I want versus what I'm willing to work for

2008-12-02T12:28:00.002-05:00

I like having people read my blog. That may not come as a surprise to you. A friend once told me that my favorite subject was me. He's not wrong, but I suspect that is the case with most people, so I feel okay with it.

I think I have figured out one of the tricks for having a blog with high readership. Are you ready for this?

Post often enough.

I don't think there is a magic number of how often is often enough. Depending on your content and your readers, you could even post too often. (If the content is cute/funny pictures of animals, or of evidence of people doing dumb things, this does not apply.)

I think maybe three times a week is good for the kind of content I'd like to have on my blog.

So why don't I do that?

Check back next post.

Introducing Autumn One-eye Winterspring

2008-11-26T18:55:00.010-05:00

A few months ago, Jeff and I got a new dog. Like Merit, Autumn is technically just a foster for now, but we are hoping our home is her forever home.

A police officer found her roaming the streets in north Philly and took her to the shelter. For the most part, she was in good health, but she had a pretty gruesome eye injury.

Nasty, isn't it? (Click the image for a larger view.)

The shelter gave us some pills to give her and some ointment to put on her eye. Let me tell you, it's REALLY hard to put ointment into the eye of a squirmy dog without damaging her eye even more.

After a few weeks, her eye was looking a little better, but not a lot. It wasn't as red and had become more pug eye than boil.

Over the next few weeks, we tried to figure out if she could see out of her injured eye. When we threw the ball for her, we noticed that if we threw it towards her good side, she could follow it, but if we threw it towards her bad side, she would lose it. She also bonked her head on things a few times. All signs pointed to her being blind in one eye.

We still wanted her to keep the eye, even if merely for aesthetic reasons. Two-eyed dogs don't look as freaky as one-eyed dogs, and Jeff and I are pretty big on our dogs being cute. (Have you seen Dylan? OMG, he's a freaking cutie!)

When we took Autumn in to get spayed, the doctor told us her eye wasn't looking as well as he would like and he wanted to just take the eye out. It was a little sad, but we knew that Autumn wouldn't be able to tell the difference since she was already blind in her "dead eye."

After the surgery, Autumn looked terrible. She acted just as happy and squirmy as ever, but she looked pretty disgusting.

For starters, half of her head was shaved, but also, she still had iodine on her fur, her wound itself looked like a hack job*, and her eye was oozing blood. Pretty freaking gross.

It has now been two weeks since the surgery and she's looking MUCH better, even if she still is a freaky one-eyed dog.

Autumn is still a puppy, and therefore is still troublesome, but she's a good girl who is learning quickly. Now if we can just get Dylan to stop being afraid of her, we can all live happily ever after.

*I imagine that shelter dogs serve as practice for vet students.

Why I like Facebook

2008-11-26T16:55:00.001-05:00

I can manage to come up with something interesting to say that is approximately one sentence in length.

Beyond that, I somehow just end up complaining.

Troublemaker

2008-11-16T22:29:00.002-05:00

One of the reasons that moving to Philly was hard for me was that the church that Jeff and I attend is pretty different from my church back home. And it's not just the style of the church that's different. The people are different. When I came here, it was hard for me to really believe that the people were going to accept me.

Honestly, I still don't know.

But that fear has actually made it hard for me to make friends, because I have been reserved and quiet. But you know what? That ain't me. And I want to be done with that.

So this is where I start. Here is where I will say who I am, without being coy or evasive.

-I recycle. But really, only because it is convenient.
-I use Round Up in the back yard on the weeds (including poison ivy, so I'm not even sorry.)
-I am a registered Republican. (I might be the only one you know!)
-I voted for George W. Bush in 2004.
-I voted for Barak Obama in 2008. (I wanted to vote Republican, really I did. But they just made it too freaking hard. First of all, who was that angry, desperate person who claimed to be John McCain? He ran a terrible campaign, at least here in PA. And Sarah Palin... she just ain't ready for the big league.)
-I don't use biodegradable tampons. I use the ones with the plastic applicator.
-I use 7th generation laundry detergent and dish washing detergent.
-I use method floor cleaner and an omop.
-I don't want to buy my clothes from a thrift shop. I want to buy them new from the mall or Target or something.
-I like to buy lattes from Starbucks.
-I don't think Wal-Mart is the devil.
-I would probably get more of my furniture from garage sales if only I didn't have to get up early to find the good deals.
-I am not a pacifist.
-I like to wear makeup and get manis/pedis.
-I like country music.
-I am not a vegetarian.
-My favorite color is purple. (I know that doesn't really have anything to do with this, but I really do like purple.)
-I want to live in the suburbs, with a garage and a yard bigger than my living room.
-I take public transportation.
-I believe that just because someone isn't black, poor, about to have a baby, about to lose a baby, or dying of cancer doesn't mean that they don't still hurt or that they don't need someone to love them. Why am I on no one's radar?
-I like games, but I am not a gamer. (My husband married "outside the tribe.")
-I like exegesis.
-I haven't yet decided what I think about women leading churches. There is a part of me that is offended by the notion that women shouldn't lead churches, but in the search for truth I must at least be willing to accept it as a possibility.
-I believe the man is the head of the household, and women do a disservice to their husbands, their children, and themselves when they usurp that authority.
-I live in a two-car family.

What do you say, folks? Where is this community I hear so much about? I know, I know, I'm being antagonistic, and that hardly encourages new friends to flock my direction. But what do I have to lose? Keeping my mouth shut hasn't done me a lot of good.

Hemispherectomy

2008-11-10T21:26:00.002-05:00

I have two sides to my brain. Don't worry, it's normal. You have that too.

Lately, one side of my brain has been very busy. It has done a lot of sorting and analyzing. Not the math kind, the emotional kind. Figuring out and understanding the present, trying to create a vision of the future. Trying to freaking relax, and understand the source of all the tension and what to do about it. Man, that side of my brain is tired.

But the other side is bored. It has sat idly by, watching half of me freak out about things it doesn't understand and can't control.

So tonight, I'm going to activate the bored side and let the tired side rest. How? Solitaire. Lots and lots of solitaire. In varying forms.

Too bad I can't play Nertz by myself.

Just for a minute

2008-11-07T16:01:00.003-05:00

more animals

Ways in which I am broken

2008-11-06T17:41:00.002-05:00

Sometimes it’s hard to be married. Let me be clear. I love my husband. He’s pretty freaking great. He’s my favorite person to talk to. Or watch Scrubs with. Or wash dishes with. Of all the guys I’ve dated, I married the guy who made the best husband.

But that doesn’t mean that life is always peachy. It's just he doesn’t always let me have my way, see? And I don’t mean in a temper tantrum “I wanted the purple fork and not the orange fork” sort of way*. More like, “Yeah, I think I’d just rather not talk about money, thank you very much” sort of way.

I WANT to be grown up and mature. But I’m not. I’m sinful and broken and childish. And I have a thing with money. It’s not like I’m a crazy spender. I’m not. I spend more money on eating out for lunch than I should, but it’s not like I’m going to Chili’s everyday for lunch. (As if going to Chili’s were the ultimate extravagance.) Other than that, my spending is normal. When I need clothes, I buy them. I SOMETIMES get my nails done, or whatever. But it’s actually pretty normal. Nothing really worth avoiding. Except I do, as if my life depended on it.

Which is tough because married couples gotta talk about money. Which leaves poor Jeff always being the bad guy. He makes me talk about money, but then I have to tell him I didn’t move that money to savings like I said I was going to, and I feel like a terrible person because I didn’t do it, and now I can’t because I spent some of the money on eating out, and I’m a terrible person and a terrible wife and it’s time for me to cry now, thanks.

Husbands don't normally like to see their wives cry. Jeff is no exception. But, hey, it happens and everybody lives. And most of the time he's patient and loving (although he's sinful and broken, too. But that's another post.) And eventually the tears stop, and I mope around for a while, feeling the weight of all that's wrong with me, and then that gets a little better, too, and suddenly I'm ready to watch a little Earl on TV. And I laugh. And everybody lives.

Sometimes I think being single would be easier. But I never think it would be better.

*But only because all of our forks and utensils in general are black. Otherwise, that statement might not be true.

Why this winter will not suck as much as last

2008-11-02T23:18:00.004-05:00

I hate the cold. Jeff and I are both really big babies about winter. We spent like five straight months complaining to each other last year.

Oh, this year will have its moments. Moments where we wonder why we live in this God-forsaken arctic tundra. Why ANYone lives here. I mean, don't you know it doesn't get this cold other places? Just move already!

Basically, no matter where you go, people adapt. People adapt to Texas by air conditioning everything. Here, you shrink wrap your windows and use space heaters, and only live in half your house half the year, because it costs too much money to heat the entire thing.

Here is how Jeff and I are adapting:

1. Electric blanket - Jeff and I were on a pretty strict budget last year and one thing we didn't splurge on was an electric blanket. This year we're doing a little better, so I got one a few weeks ago. Oh, sweet heavenly heated blankets. May God bless the person who invented them and also the person who made mine and also the person who brought it to me, etc. Looking back, I see this should have been a necessary purchase last year. And the dual controls are nice since Jeff and I don't go to bed at the same time very often.

2. A heater that works - Last year, we had problems with our heat. It would blow hot until it was almost the desired temperature and then it would blow ice cold. That sucked. When it started to blow cold, we'd just turn the thing off, which meant that overnight, it would get pretty cold in the house. It's hard to go take a shower in a bathroom that is 55 degrees. But last week we had a guy come look at our system. Turns out, we had a heat pump thermostat, which he said was wrong so he changed it and now it's fine. No more cold. Also, this thermostat is PROGRAMMABLE, which means that it starts to heat up the house about 30 minutes before I get up. Nice.

These are simple but effective ways to decrease my displeasure this winter and will likely result in the number of complaints uttered in this house being reduced by at least 20%. Which will make life better for my husband.

Blogaday?

2008-11-01T23:52:00.002-04:00

So, my husband has a blog. He's a writer, so he sorta has to, right? He's a great writer. That's how I fell in love with him, all those years ago. Well, it's how I started to like him, at least.

So last November was his first ever Blogaday. He blogged everyday for a month. This year, he's at it again, but this time he challenged other bloggers to the same. So here I am.

I'm not sure I'll blog every day. But I will make a concerted effort to blog more often this month. And sometimes I'll include pictures!

I don't have too much to say today, but I'll let you know a little bit about how my day went.

This morning, Jeff and I had to go to the bank. But, I ate too much sugar for breakfast. I'm hypoglycemic and so sometimes a Kashi waffle with honey and a glass of Ovaltine is too much sugar and sometimes it isn't. But when it is, it's bad. So I threw up at Bank of America this morning. The bathroom is supposed to be just for employees, but I guess I looked bad enough that she let me in anyway.

Don't worry, no pictures with this blog post.

Some people don't take me seriously (sigh)

2008-10-07T15:12:00.002-04:00

What do I thinkie wink
When people look above the sink
Amidst an awful smelly stink
And disregard a rhyme

The rhyme is there
To clear the air
Left by a dirty derrière
For the next potty girl in line

But there are those
Disliking potty prose
Who flip their nose
And ignore it all the time

They think it’s dumb
They like to smell their bum
And when others come
They totally like it too because they’re soooo crazy about their friend and totally dig that she hates potty poems and all that and like reading her blog!

The above poem was written by my dear friend Christy, whom I miss terribly, even though she enjoys doing things that she knows annoy me.

What I think of potty poetry

2008-10-03T16:37:00.003-04:00

I have seen at least two poems posted in workplace bathrooms that inform people of how to properly do their business.

I will share them with you:

If you sprinkle
When you tinkle
Please be neat
And wipe the seat

-AND-

If when you poo, you happen to stink
Please remember the fumes aren’t pink
So for everyone else who uses this room this day
Please use the provided spray.

Can I tell you how much this annoys me? (You might as well say yes.)

I was hoping someone would ask me who took the poetry off the walls (and threw it in the trash where it belonged.) I would proudly tell them I did and I would tell them why: because bathroom poetry is unprofessional and passive-aggressive and it annoys me and I hate it.

And then I imagine they would tell me I was being passive-aggressive and I would say, “No. Passive-aggressive is when you say one thing with your words and the OPPOSITE with your tone. I think my words and my tone are saying the same thing: You are dumb*.”

On Wikipedia, it lists the following as a passive-aggressive behavior**:
Does not express hostility or anger openly (e.g., expresses it instead by leaving notes)

*No, I wouldn't actually tell them they were dumb. But this is MY blog, and if I want to exaggerate a bit, I think I can.
**Yes, I know Wikipedia is not an actual, citable source, and NO, I did not add the above wording to the Passive-Aggressive Behavior page myself.

Crystal Ball

2008-09-21T23:51:00.003-04:00

Tonight, I'm afraid I was thinking. (A dangerous pastime. I know.)

I was thinking of a future me. The Meredith 10 years from now. The 40-year-old me. And here's what I thought:

She and the future Jeff have taken that trip to Italy.
She has gone back to school for another degree.
She and the future Jeff have gotten the honeymoon paid off. And her car. And her student loan.
Her home is comfortable and a refuge from the world. She finally made that pot rack she wanted. And she finally printed some wedding pictures and put them in frames and even hung them on the wall.
She and Jeff have had a baby, and have maybe even decided where to raise that child and where he/she will go to school.

She knows what is my future. She knows how all these things work out. More specifically, how all this stuff will get paid for. And she didn't have to divine it far in advance, when she couldn't possibly have had enough information. She knows it all because she lived it. And when she needed to know, God made sure she knew.

And do you know what she would say to me? She'd say, "Honey, why did you worry so much? Why did you stress out? Why did you grind your teeth in your sleep from anxiety? It didn't help. All those things would have come to pass anyway."

It was a really interesting experience. I was moved to pity for myself. Not in the usual, "Oh, feel sorry for me because my life is so hard." No, it was more like, "Hey, you got it pretty good. And things will work out. So relax."

I will try. Even if it takes me the next ten years.

Trying to transform my yard

2008-09-10T20:07:00.005-04:00

I've mentioned before that my backyard is no oasis. It's much better than it used to be, but that isn't saying much since it used to be a jungle of weeds. Back in July, my mom and Jeff and I went to work on the yard and dug up weeds and tilled it and laid down newspaper and then mulched the entire yard. A few weeds have started to creep back up, but I'm able to handle them pretty well.

About the same time we got rid of the weeds, I planted some azaleas, and two weeks ago, I bought a rose bush. So things are gradually coming together.

This week, a coworker brought me some lilies she dug out of her yard and tonight, I started planting them. As I started digging the last hole, I saw something in the dirt. I reached out and touched it and realized it was fabric. I immediately recognized that this was no naturally occurring underground fabric. It was buried there. And people rarely just bury fabric in the yard for no reason. I knew I was about to make a discovery.

What would it be? As I grabbed the edge of the fabric and started pulling, I imagined what I would find: drugs? money? a dead body? Oy.

As I tugged and tugged, more of the earth started to give way, and finally it happened: bones fell out.

I didn't freak out. I mean, I didn't think, "Oh, this is just someone's pet," but I also didn't think, "Holy crap, I have a dead body in my back yard." All I really thought was, "What do I do?"

I called a few people and asked advice. I could tell the bones were small, but that didn't preclude it from still being a person. My brother came over and took a look, too, and finally we decided: This is probably someone's pet, but we HAVE to know for sure. And I sure didn't want to do any more digging around looking for a skull, so I called 911. (Just so you know, it is now an hour and a half later and the police still haven't shown up. Apparently "probable dead pet in the back yard" doesn't get a very high priority.)

When my husband got home, he had no qualms about trying to find a skull, which he did. Definitely an animal. Not a human. Shew!

But now I have animal bones in a bucket in the back yard. Now what do I do?

(Can you see the two big canine teeth on the skull?)

Dreaming of technology

2008-09-10T13:14:00.001-04:00

I think PC Anywhere is pretty cool. But it doesn't really meet my needs. What I need is Desk Anywhere. I want to be able to sit at any desk, log into my desk, and get anything I need. Even if it's just a tissue.

la città che non dorme mai

2008-09-04T22:44:00.013-04:00

Jeff and I spent part of Labor Day weekend in NYC. Let me just say, I love that city. It's so great. I mean, you know, there are too many people and it sorta smells in some places, but it's got some really great things, too! Let me recount for you my weekend:

Actually, no, I don't really want to. Too much work. Let me just show you a few pictures and annotate them for you. That'll have to be enough for now.

Sunday was Brazil Day. There were lots of Brazilians in town. Lots of yellow and green.

Here I am at Brazil Day.

Here is what I discerned while I was there: Brazilian men like to not wear shirts. And I firmly believe that, if they could get away with it, Brazilian women would also like to not wear shirts.

Here I am with the trash left over from Brazil Day.

Here is more trash and no me.

Here is a car that Jeff and I found. The hood is duck taped closed.

Here I am in Times Square.

Jeff and I bought hot dogs from a street vendor just outside Central Park.
Here we are taking our first bites.

Here I am at a kids' playground in Central Park.

Here I am at Bethesda Fountain in Central Park.
Can you find me?

Quit taking pictures and just come over here!

Here is a flower. In Bethesda Fountain. In Central Park.

(When we got up to leave, I so almost dropped the camera in the water.)

Here is Jeff at MoMA.
We like to have fun with art.

More Jeff. More fun.

Friends.

Here is Jeff making sure we aren't being dangerous or unlawful.

When you stand far away from this picture, you see this.

When you stand up close, you see this.

I don't know why my hair is flipping out like this.
It annoys me.

I was standing next to this.

On the train back home, we decided to kill time by making up our own Sudoku. We screwed it up. Then Jeff started just to, I don't know, draw? Doodle? Anyway, I looked down and realized he had just doodled the word "gay."

I hope he isn't trying to tell me something. I'm pretty invested in this working out.

Non ancora

2008-08-26T23:31:00.002-04:00

Yes, again.

I promise I won't talk about my hair forever, but I just think that has turned into something of a social experiment, an experiment that I'd like to write about.

Some people, when they see my new hair, comment. Sometimes it's a gentle, "Hey, I like your hair." Other times it's more dramatic, like the co-worker who pretended he was about to fall out of his chair.

But other people say absolutely nothing.

I mean, people get haircuts all the time. They don't all warrant praise. But if someone gets an entire foot of hair cut off, I think it's weird not to comment.

I think that's interesting, is all.

Vigliacca

2008-08-25T23:05:00.003-04:00

I used to think I was the adventurous type. Let me qualify: the mildly adventurous type. Not the cliff-diving kind, but definitely the belly-button-piercing kind, and in my conservative world, there weren't very many of those.

I like doing new, but relatively tame stuff. Like chopping off my hair. But I realized today that there are some things I only want to do for a few days. And then I want to go back to normal. To comfortable. It's a good thing that there are some things I can't take back, cuz I am afraid I would and I would be sorry someday.

It was hard switching to Meredith. I mean, basically every other thing in my life changed, and I went and changed my name, too. It's a good thing you can't change your birthday cuz I might have gone stupid and changed that, too.

Anyway, today I was tired of my hair feeling different and tired of the attention (if you can even believe) and tired of absentmindedly running my fingers along the part of my neck that is shaved and basically I just wanted to feel normal again. I didn't really want my old hair back. I just wanted the new hair to hurry up and feel like my hair. I want to be used to how I look in the mirror. But that should happen soon cuz I can't stop looking at myself in the mirror.

Okay, I think that's enough freaking drama over a silly haircut. It's not like I donated a kidney or something.

So, more thoughts:
1. I've had about four people tell me that the first time I wash my hair after the new cut (which I've done now, so don't think I'm being gross) I was going to use too much shampoo.
2. It's nice being able to brush my teeth and not have to hold my hair back to keep from spitting in it.

Today

2008-08-25T12:05:00.004-04:00

This weekend, I loved my hair.

Today, I am tired of different and am ready to go back to normal!

Who is that woman in the mirror?!

2008-08-23T12:24:00.008-04:00

I haven't had my hair short in a long time. Maybe since kindergarten? That's a long time. I can remember twice (once in eighth grade and once in college) when it was shoulder-length, but those were pretty rare (and sometimes accidental) exceptions.

I've always admired women who could wear short hair. For some reason, I always felt too tall to wear it short. That doesn't really make any sense, but it was a serious mental block for me. Also, I never knew whether or not I would look like a complete and total retard with short hair, and I have had enough crappy haircuts in my life to be appropriately terrified.

I've been tempted to get it cut short for a while, but I kept chickening out when it was time to tell the hairdresser what I wanted done. I'd end up with basically the same haircut I'd had for several years, maybe with bangs or some layers, but that's the bravest I ever got. It's funny cuz I always felt regret and relief at the same time. Regret for being too chicken, but relief that I managed to dodge a potentially disastrous cut.

But eventually I decided that the only way I would know for sure is just to do it, and besides, I'm confident and smart, and I'm the CFO of the oldest medical organization in the country, and I'm not gonna be afraid of a haircut, dang it!

So yesterday, I did it!

This actually isn't a great picture, but this is Day One, so I felt like I needed to post it.

So here are my initial thoughts:

1. I think my new haircut makes my nose look really round.

2. You know how when you buy a new house, suddenly all your old furniture doesn't look as good? That's sorta how I felt with this new haircut. One of my first thoughts was, "Wow, I really need to do my eyebrows..."

3. You see that little flip it's doing? She made it do that. This morning, I figured I would try to make it do that myself. But after blow drying my hair, I discovered that my hair likes doing that naturally. In fact, maybe a little too much. After I put goop on my hair and waited a few hours, the flip chilled out some, which was good.

4. I don't need near as much shampoo.

5. My hair doesn't take as long to blow dry!

6. Not only do I feel more confident, I think I look more confident, which makes me feel like I can pull off "confident" a little better, which makes me feel more confident.

7. I think that I can change the look relatively easily. Last night, I experimented with the straightening iron and I really like how it looks completely straight, too.

Here are some more pics I took tonight, having "done" my hair myself. I know a lot of the pics sorta look the same, but there are only so many angles you can do when you don't have a remote and you are taking your own picture. (Also, I was playing with the settings on the camera, so... you know.)

I need to get my friend The Dif to take some more pics. They'll look way better.

Slugs

2008-08-13T18:24:00.008-04:00

Jeff and I have slugs in our backyard, slugs like I have never seen before. They are some sort of strange, exotic, Pennsylvania leopard slug.

Last summer, Jeff and I discovered some slugs "doing it" in our backyard. I hate to have to show you slug porn, but I have tried taking pictures of them since, and you just can't see them as well.

The first image was taken during the actual act of making slug babies.

So apparently, one of the slugs makes this slimy snot-like substance that attaches to the wall, and then they just hang on to that (and each other, apparently) during their "quality time."

"Thanks for the good time! I'll call ya later!"

"But wait! Don't you want to cuddle?"

Anyway, about the slugs. I hear tell that they aren't great for your yard, especially if you have a garden. To be clear, I do not have a garden. Right now, my backyard consists of dirt covered with newspaper and mulch, and three azaleas. No grass, a few weeds (dang it!) and that's it. BUT! Maybe I'll have a garden someday? Maybe? I'd at least like the option.

So, I have researched ways to get rid of slugs. When I say I have a slug problem, most people say, "Beer!" If you pour beer into a container, the slugs are attracted to the smell and then they get in and drown (but drown happy.)

So the other night, I put out two tupperware lids and filled them with beer. A few hours later, I went out and discovered that a few slugs had made their way into the beer! Yay! But the next morning, they were all gone. None had met their demise in the beer. Boo!

I was lazy and ended up leaving the two original lids out there, and just added a new, deeper one the next night. When I went to set out the new lid o'beer, a few slugs had already made their way into the first lids I set out. I decided to go ahead and pour more beer into the lids while the slugs where already in it.

OMG, it was horrible. Three slugs were in the lid and they just started writhing. It was terrible. I couldn't watch, and I couldn't just walk away, so I turned the lid over and let the little creepy things out.

Mysteriously, however, I was still able to pour beer into the new container that was deeper and walk away from that, knowing that I meant for slugs to be harmed by my actions, but I didn't want to be inconvenienced with having to watch.

It worked. The next morning, I had 5 dead slugs.

Leave of Absense

2008-08-12T09:43:00.002-04:00

I HATE to do this now since I just got started blogging again, but here's the thing: the Olympics are on. And I watch a lot of Olympics. So I may not be able to post for a while. (I am writing this at work, where I can't watch Olympics.)

It has been amazing:
The opening ceremonies
The US Men's basketball playing China and Yao Ming in Beijing. (That's just crazy.)
Micheal Phelps and the Miracles in the 400 relay
The US Men's gymnastics team taking bronze, even without the Hamms.
All the beach volleyball!
The synchro springboard and platform diving!

It's all just too, too much.

Happy Meetiversary!

2008-08-07T09:26:00.002-04:00

Jeff and I met two years ago today. If I had known how my life would change, I might have been a little more nervous going and answering the door when he arrived.

Correction

2008-08-06T09:54:00.007-04:00

In this post, I mistakenly said that Jennifer takes care of rhinos. NOT TRUE! She takes care of HIPPOS! So in that paragraph, all instances of "rhino(s)" should be replaced with "hippo(s)." I apologize for any confusion.

(They don't have rhinos at the aquarium. That would be silly.)

RHINO

image by Mark Pettitt

HIPPO

image by Stig Nygaard

Feeling like spaghetti

2008-08-02T00:36:00.005-04:00

Image by Sporkist

Have you heard of the book Men are Like Waffles, Women are Like Spaghetti? I don't buy into these sorts of stereotypes completely, but I do think they contain elements of truth and can sometimes be helpful.

This one is helpful to me today cuz I am totally feeling like spaghetti.

I am in the process of writing a blog post about my experiences with Facebook. But it's annoying cuz it seems like so many things in my life are interconnected with other things so in order for me to fully explain Thing 1, I also have to explain Thing 2, which prolly also brings up Things 3 and 4, and then to be able to explain all the Things in the right detail and in the right order, well that just takes too long to figure out.

So I am trying to write about my life. But I want to write about it right, but by the time that happens, I have a headache and you are bored.

Til Death Do We Part

2008-07-30T20:30:00.008-04:00

In early March, I went to Dallas for a wedding shower and for bridal pictures. Click here to see the pics.

At the end of March, Jeff and I headed to Dallas for our wedding! When we got there, it was so amazing to see leaves on trees! Philly trees didn't get leaves for a few more weeks.

Weddings are stressful. Everybody has their own idea of what a wedding should be like. I think ours was a little "different."

For one, we got married on April Fool's Day. We weren't originally going to get married on a Sunday, but as we looked at possible wedding dates, April 1 ended up being both convenient and memorable.

For me, the day was a reflection of the life I intended to have with Jeff. For one, it was fun. We had a piñata and a bounce house and a cookie cake with milk. But also, it was heartfelt. We recited vows and exchanged rings, and neither of us took those things lightly. I hope my marriage continues in the manner we intentionally displayed that day – fun, but taken seriously.

Here are some of my favorite pictures from the day.

Awwww! How sweet!

The tame version of the cake smash.

Jeff has flipped for me!

I am a bride to respect. Damn it.

The race has begun!

Jeff and I went to Club Med Turkoise for our honeymoon. You know what's great about Club Med vacations? They do all the thinking for you. It was all-inclusive, so the food was free, drinks were free, and many of the activities were free. We kayaked, and windsurfed (I was so sore the next day,) and trampolined, and scuba dived (scuba dove?), and salsa danced, and swam in the ocean, and swam in the pool, and went to the shows, and flew on a trapeze. For real. Oh, also, we ate and drank. And slept. Honk shu!

The first time I have been warm since September!

Down at Sharkie's bar

Just relaxing. Streeeetch!

Oops. I stretched too much and flipped myself over.

That's my husband on that there trapeze!

Marriage has not been easy. It has been a lot of hard work. Sometimes it's hard to figure out who you are as a person within the context of marriage. At least it has been for me.

But I love being married to Jeff. It's worth the hard work. It's worth the upheaval of moving and leaving everything I knew. It's exciting to go back and think about all that has happened in the last two years. And the next two are going to be even better.

Warning

2008-07-23T19:55:00.003-04:00

I am currently taking Prednisone for poison ivy. Here is one of the precautions listed:

"Psychic derangements may appear when corticosteriods are used, ranging from euphoria, insomnia, mood swings, personality changes, and severe depression, to frank psychotic manifestations. Also, existing emotional instability or psychotic tendencies may be aggravated by corticosteriods."

I think it's all worth it, though, cuz when you have a bad case of the poison ivies, you can experience some of the same symptoms.

Some firsts

2008-07-22T22:35:00.002-04:00

But even though parts of the transition were hard, I still had lots of fun! On Valentine's Day, Jeff and I went to White Castle, which is a fast food burger chain. But on Valentine's Day, they transform themselves into, well, a slightly more formal fast food joint. We had to make reservations and when we got there, the manager greeted us at the door wearing a suit. We were shown to our table and they had lovely menus printed for us. The tables had plastic tablecloths and real flowers. A waitress took our order and brought us our food. And to make it extra special, Jeff took a packet of ketchup and squirted it onto his plate in the shape of a heart. :)

And I got to experience lots of new things! Like lots of snow! It was actually a fairly mild winter but I did have to do a little digging to get into my car a few times. It snowed on Valentine's Day (the day we went to White Castle!) and St. Patrick's Day. My roommates made a snowman in the front yard and put a green St. Paddy's Day hat on him.

I also had to shovel a sidewalk for the first time! Trust me, it sucks.

Jeff and I also got to take Christy, who was visiting from Dallas, to the Camden aquarium. We went with Jennifer, who works at the aquarium. She is one of the keepers for Button and Jenny, the two rhinos. It was great going with someone who could give you all the inside scoop about the various animals, like the time they gave pumpkins to the rhinos and then noticed a few weeks later that little green pumpkin vines were growing in the rhino enclosure! The seeds had survived a trip through the rhinos and had started growing!

I also got to touch a shark and a stingray! Don't worry, it didn't hurt.

Becoming an expatriate

2008-07-21T20:09:00.006-04:00

Jeff spent Christmas in Dallas with me. Jon and Alison flew down as well, and since Jon still had stuff in storage that he had never gotten to Philly, we decided we would split the cost of a rental truck and the four of us (and Dylan) would drive to Philly.

We left on December 28 and got into town on the 30th. The ride up was long, but fairly uneventful. Dylan was so good! And he was rewarded handsomely! We stopped at Arby's to eat once and I let Dylan out to walk around a bit, and he found an entire discarded Arby's roast beef sandwich! Jackpot! He scarfed it down in about three seconds.

When I first moved, to Philly, I lived with Krista and Carolyn, who were friends and old roommates of Alison. I had met them before. In fact, the three of us had been bridesmaids in Alison's wedding.

Even though I lived with other people, I spent a long time feeling really alone. I didn't have a job for the first month I was there, so I stayed home in my cold, dark, third-floor room, tried to look for a job and do cover letters, and worried about money and how to pay for a wedding. I missed my friends and my church. And things that felt familiar.

My bedroom was a decent size, but it was on the third floor, so half of the room had a slanted roof, so I spent a lot of time stooped over, trying not to hit my head. It got bitterly cold. Most of my things were still in storage. And like I said, the room was dark. There was just a small lamp on the wall but it wasn't very bright. I also had a table lamp and Jeff loaned me a stage light that he had.

I finally got a job as a business manager at an arboretum. The pay was disappointing, but it was better than no pay, which had been my salary since August when I quit my job to go to seminary. (Wow, life sure did change fast!)

Through it all, Jeff was loving and encouraging, but things were changing so much for both of us so quickly that it was hard to adjust. Mostly, I was just ready to be married already.

Here is a picture of the house I lived in when I first moved to Philly.

There are three basic types of houses in Philly: singles, twins and rows. This is a twin, two homes within one building (what we called a duplex in Texas.) We lived in the right house. As opposed to left, rather than wrong.

The City of Brotherly Love

2008-07-21T19:29:00.003-04:00

and coworker snooping.

Philly in the national news again...

The Proposal

2008-07-13T22:27:00.003-04:00

We looked at rings a little that weekend, but neither of us had ever done it before, so the process was long and confusing. But we picked out our wedding location (it was the only place we looked!) and starting talking about dates.

The weekend ended too quickly, and I wasn't ready to say goodbye on Sunday. I wouldn't see him for two more weeks, when I flew to Philly for his birthday.

By the time I got to Philly, we had decided that we would use the diamond from my mom's ring and just buy a setting. So we went to the jewelry store and bought one we liked. But we had to wait for them to size the setting and set the stone, so I wasn't getting it for a while.

Two weeks later, I was BACK in Philly (long distance dating gets expensive with all those plane tickets) and I KNEW I was going to get my ring. I sorta felt like there wouldn't be much of a surprise, since we picked it out together and I knew he had it because he called me when he was there picking it up. I thought it might be a "Okay, here's your ring" sort of thing. And I would have been fine with that. I was just happy about marrying him, I wasn't gonna create too many expectations about the proposal.

But Jeff had other things in mind.

We stopped at a convenience store (I don't remember why) and while we were there, he bought some red roses. He told me to act surprised later when he presented them to me. Strangely, I still didn't realize there was going to be an actual "moment."

That night, we had a church function to go to, and when we left, I remember thinking we were leaving a little early. And we're never early to things. But, okay, whatever, I didn't ask. As we drove through the city, we approached the art museum and he turned in to the museum drive. THAT is when I finally figured out.

(Okay, I must be dense. I knew I was getting my ring that day. I knew he had it. He had just bought flowers. And we left too early for the thing we were going to. And it wasn't until we were in the art museum parking lot that I had a clue about what was happening.)

We ended up back on the steps of the art museum, where we had hung out those many months ago when we first met. (Ha!) He had brought ice cream, the same kind we had that first night. And he had the same two plastic spoons we had gotten from McDonald's. And he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.

Absolutely!

We sat there for a few minutes and ate ice cream, but it wasn't August anymore, it was November. And we were cold.

Funny, we ended up being late to church. :)

Sometimes we would look at the calendar and say to each other, "Wow, this happened really fast." But it didn't feel too fast. In fact, it actually felt a little slow to me.

It's okay, everyone. He lived.

2008-07-12T23:02:00.004-04:00

This might come as a surprise to you, but basically I freaked out. I had been out walking, too, so I ran home and told my roommates what happened.

I decided to call 911, foolishly thinking that there was some magic button that the Dallas police could press to get in touch with the Philadelphia police. This was not the case. They had to call Information. Let me tell you, when the man you want to marry has just been robbed and you don’t know if he is hurt or bleeding or dead on a sidewalk, it's really frustrating to hear "What city, please?" AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

While I was on the phone with Dallas police, one roommate called my brother and sister-in-law, who lived less than a mile from Jeff, and told them what happened. They called the Philly police and then headed over to Jeff's house.

My other roommate looked up a phone number for the Germantown police station online and called them.

While I was freaking out, the whole ordeal was already over for Jeff. The guy took Jeff's phone and $11, but he dropped a quarter and a lighter, which Jeff kept. Not exactly a fair trade. After the guy ran away, Jeff just calmly walked home, realizing that he needed to call me and let me know he was okay. And he figured he'd call the police.

What he didn't know was that I was already in action. The police had already been called and were on their way, as were Jon and Alison. He said it never occurred to him that people would already be in motion, making sure he was okay.

It was eight minutes from the time our call ended to the time I talked to him again. It was the longest eight minutes of my life.

I wanted to see him so bad after that. We talked a little that night, until I calmed down. Luckily, he was coming to Dallas the very next day already. He didn't have a phone anymore, so we couldn't talk or text like we normally do, so I basically heard nothing from him that day until he walked off the plane and into my arms.

The date: October 5th.

Drama

2008-07-09T18:22:00.002-04:00

So now I have taken you up through Labor Day of 2006. I have known Jeff for a month. I know I want to marry him.

Jeff had moved for a girl before and I assumed he would have no qualms about doing it again. But we decided that we'd both at least consider moving and see what happened.

I was living with friends and wasn't locked into a lease. Same for Jeff.
I didn't have a job. Jeff did.
I was in school, which I could technically do anywhere.

We gradually came to the conclusion that I would be the one moving. But then I told him that I didn't think it was a good idea for a girl to move for a guy she was just dating. He figured out that I needed him to propose before I would agree to move.

In early October, we started looking at rings online.

One night we were on the phone having a great conversation – about how things were going with us, and how we each were better people because of the other, etc. And we were talking about marriage.

Jeff didn't always get good reception on his cell phone in the house he lived in, so he often went walking when we talked. That was the case on this particular night.

As we talked, I heard him start talking to someone else. I couldn't really make out much of it, but I could tell Jeff was talking to someone and the phone seemed far away from him. Then I heard Jeff say, "Just take the money."

Holy crap, he was being robbed. While I was on the phone.

Then I heard key tones, like the buttons on the phone were being pressed and I heard someone say "$11."

And then I heard nothing.

Long Distance Dating

2008-07-08T22:43:00.002-04:00

The next day, I was on my way home to Dallas. Jeff and I talked and texted several times that day. He had already mentioned coming to visit me in Dallas, which we tentatively planned for Labor Day weekend.

In the meantime, I had one more week at my old job, and then I had orientation at seminary. We talked frequently, but it wasn't the same. I remember thinking, "I'm tired of talking to Jeff on the phone. I want him here."

But I had another thought as well. Within three weeks of meeting Jeff I thought, "Yeah… I want a ring from him by Christmas. I'm not ready for him to propose now. I'm not even ready to tell him I love him. But by Christmas, definitely."

About ten days before he was supposed to fly to Dallas, he called and said, "If I can find a cheap flight, can I come visit you this weekend, too?"

Yes!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On Jeff's first visit to Dallas, he had to meet a few people on the JMAC – Jan's Man Approval Committee. This might sound stupid, but only if you haven't met all the guys I've dated in my life. Most of them clearly would not have gotten passed the JMAC. I get a little stupid when it comes to guys and I really needed to make sure that was not the case this time.

Jeff got the stamp of approval.

That weekend, Jeff told me he loved me, which was a little weird since I wasn't ready to say it back. The thing is, I had already planned on being ready to say it on his originally scheduled first visit. But then he arrived a week early and I wasn't ready yet! So, yeah, a little weird. We had to talk about it, but what could I do? I couldn't very well say, "Don’t worry about it cuz I already know I want to marry you and you better propose before Christmas."

The next weekend, he was back in Dallas. I was sitting there with my arms around him and I sort of hugged him a little tighter and I said, "I have you." And he said, "I love you, too."

Oh, no! He thinks I said it! And I didn't! I mean, I'm going to, very soon, this weekend. But I haven't yet! This is weird!

It's funny cuz I don’t even remember the first time I actually said it. I just remember saying, "I have you." I eventually told him that story and he thought it was hilarious.

Enter Awesome Man Stage Right

2008-07-07T18:38:00.008-04:00

Eight days later I found myself in Philadelphia. My mom and I had both gone to Philly to visit my brother and sis-in-law. Jeff came over to have dinner with us that night. He sat next to me at dinner. He drank out of my glass. He was funny. And interesting. And conversed well with my mom.

We had plans to hang out the next night. We ended up not getting away until about 11, which I thought meant we wouldn't be able to go get ice cream like we had planned, but Jeff was creative. We went to the grocery store and got a carton of ice cream. Then we went to a McDonalds and asked them for spoons. Then we went to the art museum and sat on the steps and ate ice cream.

It's a beautiful view of the city. And it was a pleasant August night. We talked for a while, and again, I had a blast.

My family and I went to the Jersey shore for a few days so I didn't see Jeff again until Friday. He already told me he intended to kidnap me for the evening, and I was pretty okay with that. I had no idea where we were going.

We ended up at this BYOB Italian place. It was sorta weird food, and we both agreed Chili's would have been better. He was actually a little relieved that we seemed to have the same taste in food. I mean, it was fun to try new things, and I had a great time at the restaurant, but I like old faithfuls like hamburgers and fries – his kind of girl.

He also had brought a bottle of wine, which I drank half of. I don't really like wine that much, but I liked him, and I was going to drink the wine he brought for us. Turns out, a half a bottle of wine makes me giggle.

Then we went to Cirque du Soliel. Have you ever been? It's totally cool. I imagine that Cirque is pretty cool when you are sober, but when you've just had half a bottle of wine, it's really cool. I kept saying, "Wow. This is amazing." And he said, "You're talking really loudly." Oops. Sorry, it was the wine.

After it was over, we decided to go for a walk. I was sober by then, which was good since I was in heels. We walked along Kelly Drive, which is right along the river.

KELLY DRIVE

Crew teams row on the river and there are bleachers where people can go watch them race. We ended up at the bleachers and at the bottom, there was this little wooden dock actually on the water tied to the edge. We walked down to it and sat on the dock, floating gently on the water.

Perhaps it is bad form to talk about ex-boyfriends when you are on a date. It probably is. But I did it anyway. At one point I mentioned that I felt bad because I dated this one guy for four and a half years and I knew I wasn't going to marry him and I felt like I let him waste those years of his life. And then I said, "I'm just tired of wasting time." Jeff said, "I hear ya, sister." And then he grabbed my face and kissed me.

We Interupt Normal Broadcasting

2008-07-04T17:51:00.003-04:00

to bring you this story.

Philly is in the national news again, making all kinds of weird history.

A co-worker of mine was in the wedding party. He has played Thomas Jefferson since 1994.

Long Distance Pick Up Lines

2008-07-04T17:43:00.003-04:00

When I got to work that next day, blog dude had responded to my email. He was very friendly, and actually a little forward, and suggested that I call him sometime. I just laughed and laughed. And reread the email and his words (remember how I love the way he writes?) and just laughed some more. (I was so busy being sorta goofy over the email that I completely forgot about lunch plans I had with a friend. Oops, sorry, Matt!)

When I emailed him back, I told him that I had emailed him first, but I wasn't calling him first. He responded with, "Maybe I'll give you a call sometime then."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I moved the next day. And that night, my husband called me for the first time. I was actually still moving, so I didn't answer, but he left a message. I listened to it a billion times. I can still remember his words. I passed the phone around and let my friends listen to his sexy voice. I called him back later and we talked for about an hour and a half and I loved every minute of it.

But what about October 5th? Screw it, I didn't care. This guy was great.

Blating*

2008-07-04T00:33:00.004-04:00

In the meantime, I had been reading this guy's blog. I had started reading probably sometime in March, although I can't be certain exactly when. He lived in Philadelphia and was a friend of my brother. He had happened upon my blog and started reading and told my brother I seemed interesting and he'd like to meet me sometime when I was in town. My brother then sent me the guy's blog address and I started reading and I loved what I read. He was such a good writer. He expressed himself so well. He had feelings. He talked about his feelings. He eloquently talked about his feelings. Wow. How freaking great is that?!

Eventually I started commenting on his blog and he started commenting back. I have since been accused of flirting with him via the blog, which seems sorta bad since I was technically dating the coffee dude, but it seemed innocent enough. It was through blog comments. And he lived on the other side of the country. And it was fun, so… yeah. No big deal?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After the break up with coffee dude, my life was kind of in turmoil, for lots of reasons. I was thinking of changing jobs and maybe moving. I had good friends who were getting married, which is really good, but it changes things and I wasn't thrilled about that. I finally decided I was going to quit my job and go to seminary. So I did. I quit and made plans to move and start school.

Oh, and the plane ticket to New York turned into a plane ticket to Philadelphia to visit my brother and sis-in-law just before I started school.

I posted on my blog that I would be in Philly soon because I wanted blog dude to read it and perhaps try to arrange a meeting.

Then blog dude posted on his blog about Frederick Buechner, a theologian that I had read (but only a little) and I decided I wanted to talk to him about it, but not through blog comments, so I asked my brother for his email address. And I emailed him.

That night, I got another word from God. He told me "October 5." Uh, wha…? What does that mean? Oh, crap. Maybe it means that I am going to go to seminary and meet "the guy" on October 5th? But I just emailed this other dude. And I kinda like him already. And he has expressed a little interest in me. (After all, he did a little flirting back.) And maybe this is just me being impatient and forcing things or making bad choices instead of waiting on God?

It sounds like not that big a deal, but I was really kind of freaking out.

*A word I made up. A combination of "blog" and "dating." A form of online dating that occurs exclusively through blogs.

The story continues

2008-07-02T22:40:00.005-04:00

I have always been afraid of getting married. I would literally have nightmares about getting married. When I was younger, I had three recurring themes in my dreams. I dreamed of tornadoes, of getting pregnant outside marriage, and of getting married. The scariest by far were the ones where I would get married. In the dream, I would say, "Well, now you've done it. You got married. You know, you always said, 'I've made mistakes in my life but at least I haven't gotten married.' And now you have. And you can't ever change your mind. Ever."

I would wake up and literally breathe a sigh of relief and say, "Thank GOD. It didn't really happen."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In March of 2006, I found out that our singles pastor was dating a girl in the singles' group who was 10 years younger than he was and I was flabbergasted. He was a smart, educated, cultured man in his early thirties dating a girl (yes, I said 'girl') in her early twenties. I just couldn't imagine a girl that young being any sort of a good partner for a man like him. It was SO obvious to me that it was a mistake and they would break up, but he's the singles' pastor, so then what? Does she have to start going to another church? Man, this is just a bad idea. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I was really annoyed by the whole thing.

That afternoon, I took a Sunday afternoon nap (those are the best), and when I woke up, I felt like God had spoken to me: "Don’t worry about it. I got it. Don’t worry about them. Oh, and, uh, don't worry about you."

Fine.

(Also, after thinking about it further, I realized it was probably a pretty good match, and therefore gave it my blessing, which I'm sure everyone would have been thankful for, except that all of this was happening in my head.)

Anyway, that day, I got a call from a guy. He wanted to see if I was interested in having coffee sometime, which I happened to know was his standard line. So me getting this call right after God told me that He had my love life under control meant something, right? It was a sign.

Things went okay with coffee guy for a while. He was going to go away for the summer and I bought a plane ticket to go visit him in New York. But then a few days before he left, we broke up. It was sort of a mutual "I'm not getting what I need from this" sort of thing. But it still sucked. And what the heck did it mean? What about God having my love life under control? Huh? What about that?

My story

2008-07-01T23:32:00.004-04:00

I am going to tell you a story. My story. The story of how I ended up in Philadelphia. How I ended up married. How I met the love of my life. I will post it in segments, so come back often for more of the story.

I think the Old Testament is really interesting. For lots of reasons. I enjoy the stories and the history and the ancient way of things. But I also like the ways in which God communicated with people back then. Audible voices. Burning bushes. Rivers of blood. Angels of death.

I'm sorta glad God doesn't use those methods of communication much anymore.

But God still speaks to us. I personally have had God speak to me through dreams, which I may write about later. But mostly He's a voice inside my head, which is tricky because His voice inside my head often sounds a lot like my voice inside my head.

Philly in the national news

2008-06-26T09:52:00.003-04:00

Philadelphia is known for its murals. See some of them here.

Read this article to find out why people are talking about Philly murals today...

Extra credit: Do you know what "gentrifying" means? It's a hot word in Philadelphia.

How to help

2008-06-22T14:28:00.003-04:00

I was asked how a person might help the women in the Congo.

(sidenote: There are two Congos. One is the Republic of the Congo and one is the Democratic Republic of the Congo, formerly Zaire. I will be referring to the second one, the DRC.)

There are two ways to help the women in the Congo. One is to give money. Women For Women is an organization that financially supports women in many countries, including DRC. For $27 a month, you are matched with and financially support a woman in the Congo. You can also make a one time donation.

Another way to help the women of the Congo is to raise awareness and money at the same time. Run for Congo Women is an organization that helps you do just that. This is a typical "run for charity" type of event. But, you can also get creative! Or, you can educate others and push for change.

Please click here to read portions of letters written by sponsored women.

Here is what Lisa wrote on Run For Congo Women about how her awareness of the violence in the DRC began.

"Watching Lisa Ling's report on Oprah about the conflict in the eastern Congo, shock waves went through me. 4 million people dead. Women gang raped and tortured daily, many held captive as sex slaves, sometimes for years. Innocent children tortured, starved, and left to die. 6 out of 10 children die before the age of 5. Yet no one is talking about it.

...I remained haunted by this horror, which continues to be met with stunning silence by the world. What would I have done if I lived in 1939 Germany, or if had been aware of the 1994 genocide in Rwanda? Oprah's challenge lingered, 'Now that you know, you can't pretend you didn't hear it.' I had to do more."

Oops

2008-06-20T11:00:00.002-04:00

If you wanted to do the meme thing from the previous post, I've edited it to add the links to the search page and the mosaic maker page. I didn't realize they copy/paste over...

Sorry!

A Meme

2008-06-15T21:02:00.002-04:00

The rules:

a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
b. Using only the first page, pick an image.
c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd’s mosaic maker.

1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. Favorite drink?
7. Dream vacation?
8. Favorite dessert?
9. What you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. One Word to describe you.
12. Your flickr name.

Crazy

2008-06-11T22:57:00.003-04:00

When I moved to Philadelphia a year and a half ago, I went a little crazy. It's to be expected, I think, considering all the changes.

I think part of the reason I have had a hard time continuing to write on this blog is that for a while, things were so upside down in my brain that I couldn't write about them intelligently, and now that things are better, I feel like there isn't a good bridge between who I was then and who I am now.

And I'm not sure if it's possible or worthwhile to revisit that time to take some of my old readers through all the mess to better understand me now. So I'm sorta stuck there.

But I will say this: therapy helps. I have always thought that just about everyone could benefit from a little therapy, and now I know that at least I benefit from therapy.

Also, it helps to have a good job that I like, a good marriage to a good man, and a mostly good dog.

UNcool things about Philly

2008-06-11T11:54:00.003-04:00

Actually, this really has nothing to do with Philly and this is probably happening all over, but it's only happening TO ME in Philly.

Monday night, someone stole gas out of my gas tank. Luckily, they only took about a quarter tank, but still that's stinky. They hit several cars on our street.

I thought that by taking the train to work and not driving my car, I would save money on gas. Buy my cost saving measure aren't as effective when there's thievery going on!

On a more serious note

2008-06-08T22:04:00.003-04:00

Our church is hosting the Women in War Zones Gala next weekend.

Please take a minute to check out the site. It might take a minute to load due to the graphics.

"They asked me to choose between rape and death, of course I could choose neither, both are the same." Helene Wamuzila, age 22

You can go here to find out more about the women of the Congo.

Philadelphia

2008-06-08T21:27:00.003-04:00

Moving to Philly was really hard for me, for lots of reasons, which I may or may not discuss later.

But part of it is that Philly is just so DIFFERENT. The buildings are different and the streets are different, and people have radiators in their houses, and it's just weird. Oh, and the winters totally suck.

But there are a few things about Philadelphia that are actually pretty cool. If you ever visit Philly (which I recommend doing in May or September,) here are some things you might want to check out:

1. The Philadelphia Museum of Art. I love that place - It's a beautiful building with some fantastic art and a great view of the city and I got engaged on the front steps. So a cool place. Also, if you are a Rocky fan, it's where Rocky ran the steps.

2. Love Park - There's not a lot to actually DO at the park, other than look at the Love and have your picture taken, but it's a cool touristy thing to do.

3. The Mutter Museum - This is one of the most unique museum in the country. I actually went there today and was a little freaked out. Don't take little kids here. They will ask too many questions that will be difficult to explain. Don't forget to check out the online store!

4. Cheese steaks! - Okay, so cheese steaks in Philly aren't like the Philly cheese steaks you get in the rest of the country. When you order a cheese steak, if you don't specify what kind of cheese you want, you get the whiz. As in Cheese Whiz. I am not kidding. For cheese steaks, I recommend either Geno's or Pat's, which are right across the street from each other. There is a special way to order cheese steaks. The first time I went, I wanted to be very clear so I said "I would like a cheese steak with provolone cheese and no onions." Turns out, all I needed to say was "Provolone, wit'out." Yes, that is wit'out. That's how you say it in south Philly.

5. Forbidden Drive - I think I might have posted about this before, but it's such a cool thing, I wanted to post about it again. Forbidden Drive is a part of Fairmount Park so it's this nice great nature area that runs along the Wissahickon Creek. The drive used to be one of the roads that let into the city, and had watering holes and even toll booths along the way. But in the 1920's the city decided to ban vehicles from the drive, hence the name Forbidden Drive. Only pedestrians, bikes and horses are allowed. There is some great hiking and some beautiful views along the way.

Does anybody come here anymore?

2008-06-08T00:24:00.002-04:00

I hardly do. I don't know why, I just found I didn't have much to say. Yeah, I know. Weird, huh?

So, uh... I guess I'll think of something.

First of all, marriage is hard. I mean, it's good, but man, is it freaking hard. Cuz get this: The Husband doesn't always think like me. He doesn't always want what I want. And sometimes he even thinks that I am wrong. WTF?

Also, it's weird the stuff that you become occupied with when you turn into an adult. Like, the thing I really want to write about is how we are saving up money to have closets (from IKEA) installed in our bedroom since we have a scarcely closeted house. And how our tiny backyard is full of weeds and we're planning on rototilling it and doing some environmentally friendly weed killing. And how I just sent off for a coupon for an analog/digital converter for the TV. And I have a board meeting on Tuesday and I bought a suit today so I could look all professional, but I realized when I was trying on the suit that, wow, does my hair look sloppy, so I gotta figure out what to do about that. And we need to have our rubber roof coated. And the stucco on the side of the house resealed. And we finally got our house numbers up on our house, but now we need to install the porch light. And it's really hot on the third floor of our house.

So that's the stuff I may write about for a while. So you tell me, is it worth it?

The sun makes me sad

2007-09-19T14:47:00.000-04:00

In the last few weeks, the sun has changed dramatically here in Philadelphia. On September 1st, the sun set at 7:33. Today it sets at 7:03. That's a 30 minute difference in less than two weeks. But not only does it get dark earlier, the sun never makes it as high in the sky as it does in the bright summertime.

Why does this make me sad?

I keep thinking that it's later than it is. Just now, I was thinking, "Gosh, it must be 4 already." Nope. 2:40.

2:40!

In December, the sun will set at 4:35. Then I'll be thinking, "Gosh, it must be 4 already." Nope. 12:00 noon.

Noon!?

I'm your moon

2007-09-05T14:52:00.000-04:00

"A few people suggested I do a song about Pluto, and I thought it was a fine idea. It was turning around in my head last week when the first line of the chorus came to me, as if from deep space.

As you certainly know by now, Pluto is not a planet anymore. Just yesterday the International Astronomical Union made it official by redefining “planet.” Pluto is a now considered a dwarf planet, along with a few other small, icy spherical things out there. Obviously very upsetting to Pluto. As you are also no doubt aware, Pluto’s moon Charon is kind of unusual: it’s about half the size of Pluto, which is pretty large for a moon. And it doesn’t orbit around Pluto, they actually orbit around each other, faces locked, like dancers. You wouldn’t be crazy to think of them as a double dwarf planet.

What I’m getting to is this: Charon sings this song to Pluto."
--Jonathan Coulton

Lyrics

Hi

2007-07-24T14:10:00.000-04:00

So, uh... hey. How ya doin'? It's been a while, so I thought perhaps we'd catch up.

So, the last time I wrote was last July. A few things have changed since then.

So where am I now? In pleasantly warm Philadelphia. Yes, Pennsylvania. I am married to a wonderful man, to whom I shall affectionately refer as The Husband. He is from Nashville, originally, so, no, I didn't marry a yankee.

We bought a house last week. It is an end-of-row row house. We have three floors. It doesn't mean we have a big house, it's just tall, with a small footprint. (Land is a scarce resource in Philadelphia.) We have a basement, too. I don't really know what to do with a basement. I mean, you can store stuff down there, I guess, but then it smells like basement. You can also go there during tornados except Pennsylvania doesn't really have those. So for now, it's empty. We don't have a garage or a driveway. We just park on the street. Luckily, there seems to be enough parking on our street and we can usually find a spot close to the house. Where we lived before, we often had to park down the street and around the corner, which sucks when it is cold/raining/hot or when you have groceries. Oh, and we have central air, which is almost unheard of in this part of town. Most homes have window units to keep the house cool.

I have a job. I am the Business Manager/Controller at Awbury Arboretum (click here or here) in east Germantown. It's a pretty casual job and I get to wear jeans. The people are great and I believe in the arboretum's mission: "to preserve and interpret Awbury's historic house and landscape, thereby connecting an urban community with nature and history." Click around on the website to find out more.

The Husband and I currently attend Circle of Hope, which is a Brethren in Christ church of Mennonite roots. You could say it's pretty different from my Southern Baptist upbringing and you wouldn't be wrong. It has taken some getting used to, but the friendly people are easing the transition.

SO... needless to say, the past year has been full of changes for me. Sometimes it's difficult for my little brain to process it all and there have been some ups and downs emotionally.

So that's where I am.

Where are you?

So what's up with you?

2006-07-24T12:23:00.000-04:00

Wow. Lot’s of change. Hmmm… Let’s see. Where to begin...

First of all, this is the summer of weddings. I’ve been to 4 weddings and 1 reception and I have another wedding in 13 days. I think there’s something in the water.

Sad news: My friend Shad has found another job. He has already been gone a week and I miss him like crazy. I mean, he makes me crazy. I forget which one. Anyway, after having Shad as my next cube neighbor for 4.5 years, the silence I am now experiencing is deafening. I miss you, buddy!

Although, his departure will make mine that much easier. That’s right, I’m leaving my job. I still have five weeks left, but I’ll be on vacation for two of them. I’m sneaky. Hahaha. No, I haven’t found another job yet, but I’ll be starting seminary in the fall and my current job is just too far away from the school.

So that introduces another change. Moving. I’m moving in with my friends Rachel and Tasha who live in a house closer to school. It’ll be VERY nice being in a house instead of an apartment. Living in an apartment with a dog is a big pain. It’ll be nice to just open the door to let the little guy out to do his business. And no stairs!

But I’m VERY SAD about not living with Christy anymore. Can’t think about it. I’ll cry.

So the next few weeks will be INSANELY busy. I move this weekend and then the next weekend is the BIG WEDDING where I will have to fulfill maid of honor duties all weekend including the rehearsal dinner, the bachelorette party, and the actual wedding itself. It'll be fun! Then EARLY the next day, I leave for Philly for the aforementioned vacation. And then school starts two weeks after I get back! Yay!

So be praying for me to find a new job. I’ll have to work fulltime while I go to seminary cuz school ain’t cheap and I have bills to pay. So that’s the big question mark for me right now. So glad everything else is falling into place!

Although I think all the change may give me an ulcer.

Life change part I

2006-07-13T12:33:00.000-04:00

Sometimes life changes drastically in a short period of time. Sometimes those changes are good. Other times, not so much.

We find a case of such here.

He used to be class president. He is the son of a preacher. And he got arrested for robbing a bank to pay off his online poker debts.

Can you imagine being in orchestra practice and the police bust in and arrest the cellist?

I think it would go something like this:

Cellist: What’s the problem, officer?

Officer: You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Please do not play your cello.

The dude sure looks grumpy...

Other interesting stuff I have found on the internet:
All you ever wanted to know about hot dogs
Recommended daily allowance of cuteness
Antidote to above cuteness site, just in case

Have any interesting links you’d like me to post? Send’em my way!

Grossness

2006-05-26T16:25:00.000-04:00

Root beer floats gross me out.

They feed us a lot at work. Today it's ice cream floats. People all around me are eating them. The foamy stuff disgusts me.

Ick.

Geographically illiterate

2006-05-02T14:16:00.000-04:00

On CBSNews.com today, there was an article about how many Americans can't locate obscure places that no one ever talks about like Louisiana and Iraq on a map. Having grown up putting together puzzles that were maps of the US I just couldn't understand this. I love maps. And not just of the US. I love maps of places I've been, like Ghana. Of places I'd like to go, like Israel. Of places that I'd like to go even though they don't exist, like The Shire or Rohan.

Here is another of the findings that I found interesting:

Six in 10 did not know the border between North and South Korea is the most heavily fortified in the world. Thirty percent thought the most heavily fortified border was between the United States and Mexico.

The border between the US and MEXICO?! Freaking A, people. Crimeny, we're so freaking full of ourselves.

Two-thirds didn't know that the earthquake that killed 70,000 people in October 2005 occurred in Pakistan.

But we sure as heck know that it costs $2.89 for a gallon of gas. And WHY do we get charged that much? There are many reasons, of course, but one of them is "BECAUSE WE WILL PAY IT." We will pay out the wazoo to fuel our SUVs and H2s. But if 70,000 people die in an earthquake, we get all pissed off because the special report interrupts American Idol or some crap like that.

Sorry to rant. But stupid people get on my nerves. It's a good thing that I'm the most brilliant person to ever live. :)

Dr. Pepper at its best

2006-04-26T16:31:00.000-04:00

I grew up drinking Dr. Pepper. Everyone in my family had a different drink. I drank DP. My brother drank Coke. My dad drank Pepsi. My mom drank caffeine free Diet Coke. (When I was young, we called in diet caffeine free Coke but I think caffeine free Diet Coke is better. Not sure why.) The fact that we all drank something different meant that going to the store for ‘coke’ was quite an expensive excursion.

As I got older, I began adding other drinks to the rotation. Coke, Root Beer (YUM!), Pepsi. Sometimes even RC Cola. But lately I’ve been sticking mainly with Coke. For some reason, Dr. Pepper just didn’t sound very appealing to me anymore and I didn’t understand why.

But yesterday, I figured it out. At work, we have a coke machine. Drinks come in a can. I get Coke. At restaurants, they have fountains. I get Coke. Why? Because out of a can or from a soda fountain is not Dr. Pepper at its best.

Dr. Pepper is best out of a 2-liter bottle. It’s weird, I know. It just tastes different. I suppose a 3-liter bottle would work, and MAYBE a 1-liter. But a 20-oz. bottle? No way. It just don’t taste right.

Questions? Comments?

Yay for food!

2006-04-13T13:29:00.000-04:00

I’m not a big BBQ fan. It’s almost a sin to live in Texas and not love BBQ. But I don’t. There. I said it. And I’m not ashamed!! Also, I’m not a big fan of the side dishes that always accompany BBQ. There’s baked beans, coleslaw, and potato salad. What’s up with potato salad? I mean, of all the wonderful ways to fix potatoes, why do we have to go with potato salad?

I work for a tax and accounting software firm. A quick check of the calendar reveals that today is April 13th. Things are pretty busy over in the tax department. Luckily, I don’t work there. I work in the accounting department and we are painfully slow today. Our call volume always goes up the day AFTER tax season ends. Apparently people are too busy doing taxes to worry about their books right now. And I’m okay with that.

Anyway, because it’s getting near the end of tax season and the powers that be like to take pretty good care of us so that people don’t go crazy and start yelling at clients and other such nonsense, they decided it would be a good idea to feed us. And I won’t argue with that.

Monday was La Hacienda Ranch. Oh, my goodness. I LOVE La Ha. They have the BEST beef fajita meat EVER. When I go there, I order a side item of just the fajita meat. It’s scrumptious. Thinking about it now is making me hungry again!

Today was Sonny Bryan’s Smokehouse. And I must say, THIS BBQ is worth something. The BBQ chicken…mmmmmmm. Yum. For real. So if you are ever in the mood for BBQ, you must see for yourself. Click here for a location near you.

Lil’ Tiny Baby Duckies!!!!

2006-04-12T09:34:00.000-04:00

I love spring. But I guess you already know that. I particularly love it today.

At my apartment complex, we have a pond that is home to numerous birds. First off, we have swans. Swans are mean. They hiss at my dog. And so my dog is scared of them, but he hides it well. We also have these ugly turkey-looking ducks. They make cute lil’ babies, but they, too, grow up to be ugly turkey-looking ducks.

But then we have NORMAL ducks.

I’m not particularly fond of birds normally. I’m afraid they will bite me or poop on me. Or both. But in the springtime, ducks make duck babies. And this morning I saw them!! About 10 lil’ tiny baby duckies!

Dey was so coot!!! I dust want to pick dem up and queeeeeze dem!!!! But I fink Dywan might twy to eat dem.

NOTE: To understand the above, you must say it in the “talk to the dog/baby/cute-little-anything” voice.

Another random survey

2006-04-11T17:41:00.000-04:00

I took a survey today.

Here's what it said about me:

"You are constantly trying to make a favourable impression and endeavouring to be considered as that someone 'special'. You are pretty good at using various tactics and strategies that give the impression that you are in control. Maybe you are - but you are constantly watching to see whether or not your endeavours are truly appreciated. Be careful... just as 'you' may be endeavouring to influence others, 'they' may indeed be influencing you.

You 'need to be needed'. As an idealist you are intolerant of anything short of special consideration from those close to you. If you do not get what you seek you are apt to become reclusive and you will close the doors on all those within your sphere of influence.

You feel tired - worn out and listless. The last thing that you want to do is to be in an open conflict with those around you that are forever tormenting you. What to do? That's the rub. You are feeling that you are being choked - unable to breathe.

You pretend that you are a carefree individual and that nothing really bothers you - that you are so self-sufficient that whatever problems beset you they simply flow off you as water flows off a ducks back. You are experiencing considerable stress, trying to conceal yourself from the rest of the world. In actual fact - deep down, you are not at all happy. You feel lonely and you need someone with whom you can 'Let your hair down' and share your hopes, dreams and high standards. You are imposing unnecessary self restraint on yourself. You would like to demonstrate the unique quality of your character to all and sundry.

Sometimes one fears that its not worth formulating new ideas and projects because whatever you seem to have done in the past has never worked out and you are tired of, as they say, banging your head against a brick wall. No one seems to care. So now you are trying to get away from it all by withdrawing into a 'fantasy land' but unfortunately 'fantasy land' is just that and sooner or later you will have to return to reality so why delay the inevitable? When you do return, you will find that the situation is not as tough as perhaps you thought it was."

It's pretty interesting, although I think there's some imperfect grammar in there... I wonder what THAT says about me.

So what do you want to know?

2006-03-30T01:08:00.000-05:00

I read my friend Jocelyn's blog today. She posted a very honest assessment of herself, listing all kinds of things about her, both good and bad. It sort of inspired me, so I will attempt to do the same.

I'm a big chicken and can't watch scary movies. I frequently dream about tornadoes. I think that guys lie about their height. I used to listen to country music and I know how to two-step. I know how to say, "You wanna fight?" in Korean. I am the queen of the snooze button. I once snoozed for 4 hours in college. Snoozed right through my class. My dog is on a diet. I love reality TV shows like Fear Factor, Extreme Makeover Home Edition, Beauty and the Geek and The Biggest Loser. I'm in love with Fitzwilliam Darcy. I get grumpy when I'm tired. It's worse if I'm hungry too. I think 'your mama' jokes never get old. (But your mama is old.) I'm scared of sushi. I operate on Jan Standard Time, which is roughly 10 minutes behind Central Standard Time. My mind works best late at night, but that makes it hard to go to bed, which means that it's hard to get up so I snooze a lot. My parents are divorced. It freaks my mom out that I'm 28 and not married. But I think she's really only afraid that it freaks me out that I'm 28 and not married. I'm not freaked out that I'm 28 and not married. I'd like to adopt someday. I don't have cable TV and I get 99.9% of my news from here and here. I hate using the mouse and prefer to use hotkeys. I love Quicken. I like to paint my nails weird colors. I think manicures are awesome. I love Barq's Root Beer. (It has caffeine.) I'm self-centered. I'm a control freak. Sometimes people just don't get my sense of humor. Sometimes some pretty outlandish things come out of my mouth, but I rarely wish that I could take them back. I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve. You wanna know something about me? Just ask. I'll probably tell you. I'm a commitment-phobe. Marriage scares me. I still wish I could be an astronaut when I grow up. I loved Sudoku way before it was cool. My favorite movie is The Princess Bride. I wish my name was Buttercup. I like to talk about myself. (Hence, the blog.) I love asking hard questions. Oh, yeah. And I'm human.

Ouch! That's gotta hurt!

2006-03-27T13:43:00.000-05:00

So, for those of you that have been around a while, you’ve seen some of the words studies I’ve done in the past. We’ve studied love, we’ve studied hope, and we even did an unofficial study on truth. Today, we’re gonna switch gears a little. Today’s Word of the Day is “grace.”

I know you probably think I’m going to talk about the biblical meaning of grace. And so you aren’t disappointed, I’ll touch on it briefly. Grace is undeserved acceptance and love received from another. Although the biblical words for "grace" are used in a variety of ways, the most characteristic use is to refer to an underserved favor granted by a superior to an inferior. When used of divine grace toward mankind, it refers to the underserved favor of God in providing salvation for those deserving condemnation. In the more specific Christian sense it speaks of the saving activity of God which is manifested in the gift of His Son to die in the place of sinners.

But that’s not what I wanna talk about today. For the purposes of today’s discussion, this will be our working definition: elegance and beauty of movement or expression.

This is one of those interesting cases where the exception apparently proves the rule. Let me relate to you my recent experiences with ungrace.

Yesterday, Ben and I went and saw Mr. and Mrs. Iyer at the Indian Film Festival at SMU. I had never seen an Indian film before and it was actually a pretty good movie. It’s really interesting getting a glimpse into other cultures and seeing things from other perspectives. Afterwards, we had a little Indian food. We weren't sure what it was. It looked like a juicy, orange funnel cake. Ben said he thought it was fried juice. Anyway, it was very sweet and it made me wish I had a glass of milk to drink with it.

The movie was shown in a fairly small theater on the 3rd floor of Dallas Hall. It’s a stately sort of building, with a seal of some sort on the floor and a very ornate dome ceiling. As you can see from the picture below, as you leave the building, you walk down a number of stairs before getting to the ground level.

Out in front there is a large grass field. It was a nice day, so people were out just lounging and playing with their kids, etc.

I started walking down the stairs, in my cute skirt and heels I wore to church. And then I bit it big time. I completely fell flat on the ground. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I fell DOWN the stairs. I don’t know what happened. I didn’t twist my ankle or anything. I’m just walking and then I’m on the ground. Real fast. Oddly enough, I remember thinking as I fell, “Wow, this is gonna hurt.”

I didn’t damage myself too bad. A few bruises and a skinned up shin. Oh, and a few sore muscles in my side and arm. I tried to take a picture of my leg so I could post it, but the picture didn’t turn out very well. Oh, well, it’s probably better that way. Luckily, the most injured part of myself is invisible – my ego is currently very humble… Ben thought it would be funny to preach at me: Pride comes before a fall. But I’ll just blame it on that dang fried juice.

Luckily I learned somewhere along the way to laugh at myself, so I sat there on the stairs and laughed hysterically for a few minutes. Then I took my shoes off and walked back to the car barefoot. If only there had been a hole I could have crawled in between the stairs and my car…

So, apparently, in addition to humility, I also need to learn grace. But at least I have one thing going for me: at least I can elegantly eat french fries... :)

(I did figure out what the Indian food was. It's called Jalebi.)

Rain on my parade

2006-03-03T10:49:00.000-05:00

It just wasn’t in the cards for me to have a perfect day.

I spend hours every week compiling numbers for the boss lady. Then she found out that the numbers were automatically being generated for other departments, so she had the reports guy create it for her, too. So basically, I do nothing at my job. Here is the email that I sent to my boss.

From: Me
To: The Boss Lady
RE: I quit

Basically that little spreadsheet just made me obsolete. Can I spend the rest of the day looking for a new job? I thought about sending an email to the report guy congratulating him on the accuracy of his numbers. Can I go home now?

Jan

2006-03-03T09:54:00.000-05:00

I love spring. It really puts me in a good mood. I found myself singing today. You know what I was singing? B2 25M. My friend Tracy has a meeting in B2 25M and I just thought it was fun to say and even more fun to sing, so I started singing B2 25M to I’ve Been Working on the Railroad. You know the end where it goes

“Fie, fi, fiddly i o
Fie, fi, fiddly i o
Fie, fi, fiddly i o
Strumming on the old banjo”

Yeah, that part fits perfectly with “B2 25M.”

Also, I’m in a good mood cuz tonight is the P&P party. What does P&P stand for, you ask? Pride and Prejudice, of course. It came out on DVD on Tuesday so a group of us are getting together tonight to watch it. There will be between 10 and 15 girls there. Sort of scares me, actually. That’s a lot of estrogen in one room. But we’re gonna get together and eat and watch a pretty good movie based on my favorite book in the whole world.

Today is a good day.

Beautiful

2006-03-02T09:36:00.000-05:00

Here in Texas we have been enjoying fantabulous weather. For the past few days, I’ve been riding around with the windows down and the sunroof open. I’m even sleeping with the window open. I LOVE early spring. It’s a bit cool in the mornings, but by afternoon, it’s lovely.

I had to email my bro, who lives in Philly, to tell him how great it was here. On Tuesday, I checked the weather in Philly – 33 degrees. HAHAHA!

Also, just off my balcony is a Bradford pear tree. I noticed this morning that it had little baby leaves on it. Which is sort of odd since last year’s leaves didn’t fall off until the week before Christmas.

It’s okay that we don’t get much of a winter here. Spring is my favorite anyway.

The Olympics

2006-03-01T14:56:00.000-05:00

I get hooked on the Olympics. Every time the Olympics come on, all I can do for two weeks is watch. They always show the good stuff during Prime Time from 7-11. But it’s not very good for my productivity level. It even got to where I would check the stats during the work day and then go home and watch, even though I knew what was going to happen.

But this year, I was confused by the Olympics. See, here’s the thing. I know a little Italian. (And when I say a little, I mean VERY LITTLE.) Roma is the Italian name for Rome. Napoli is the Italian name for Naples. And Torino is the Italian name for Turin (as in the Shroud of Turin.) I’m just confused as to why they used the name Torino instead of Turin. I mean, in 2004, the Olympics were in Athens, Greece. I’m sure Athens isn’t the Greek name for Athens. It doesn’t make sense to me.

But then I found this on the Shroud of Turin website. HAHA!!

My little baby dog - okay so maybe not so little...

2006-02-28T12:51:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I officially agree: my dog is fat. I was walking him the other day and we passed one of my neighbors. She said, “Oh, what a cute dog. And fat.” And then my roommate had a friend over and he said my dog looked “well fed.” In case you were wondering, if you tell someone that their dog is well fed, it’s the exact same thing as telling them that their dog is fat. And if you tell someone their dog is fat, they aren’t going to like you.

So just because I say that Dylan is a tub o’lard doesn’t mean that YOU can.

So I’ve started measuring his food to make sure he’s not getting too much dog food. Now if I can just cut out the table scraps, too…

I also bought him some more toys. Did you know they don’t make very many dog toys that either A) don’t squeak, or B) aren’t made of some sort of rope that sheds worse than my dog? I finally found a few. His favorite toys are the tennis balls. He LOVES them. We have to play with two, though. If I’m about to throw one, he’ll drop the one he just fetched. But if we only have one, he likes for me to take it from him. It’s a game I call tug-o-fetch.

Anyway, I’m hoping that with the cut back in food and the increase in play with the tennis balls will cause him to shed some pounds.

If I had a digital camera, I’d take a picture of him and post it for the “Before” picture. But I don’t.

Languages

2006-02-23T12:22:00.000-05:00

I’ve always been amazed by people who could learn other languages. I’d like to someday. In the meantime, I'll just make fun of other people that learn other languages.

Anyway, as most of you know, I really like words. Which will hopefully explain why I like the Babelfish translator site so much. My friend Shad is taking Russian, so he decided to take the normal phrases that he uses quite frequently and translate them into Russian. I thought it might be fun to then take those words and translate them BACK to English. See below for the results of this experiment.

*Disclaimer: Yes, these are phrases that Shad uses with at least moderate frequency. The last one he uses several times a day.

First I will list the original English phrase and then the same phrase translated to Russian and back.

Smell my feet.
Smell by my feet.

You really hate me.
You actually hate me.

I don’t know what to tell you.
I do not know to say you.

Are you mad at me?
You sumashedshi on me?

Then I tried it again translating to Chinese and back.

Smell my feet.
Smells my foot.

You really hate me.
You truly hate me.

I don’t know what to tell you.
I did not know any tells you.

Are you mad at me?
You live my gas?

That last one concerns me a bit...

Chai tea

2006-02-22T17:50:00.000-05:00

I never was a Starbucks fan. Nothing against Starbucks, I just didn’t like coffee and assumed there was, therefore, no reason for me to ever step foot inside one. Oh, how I was wrong. First, a friend introduced me to the Chai Tea Latte. Pretty good. Not quite chocolate milk (my fave!) but it made me feel a little more sophisticated drinking a hot drink at Starbucks. (That should clue you in a little as to my level of sophistication…) Anyway, I then discovered the VANILLA Chai Tea Latte. Now this is praiseworthy. Seriously, I look forward to my weekly trip to Starbucks on Sunday mornings before church. Yes, I only allow myself to have one per week. The ‘tall’ which is Starbucks talk for ‘small’ is $3.41. I’m not doing that every day. Oy vey.

Anyway, I have discovered something else that just might allow me to enjoy my hot drink more than once a week. I found the Vanilla Chai Tea Latte Mix by Oregon Chai.

So I was looking at the package today and I found this:

Mispronunciation of Oregon Chai
may result in derisive snickering.
Oregon \or-y-gun
Chai \eye with a ch in front
At least they are upfront about the fact that they make fun of people.

This is starting to get depressing...

2006-01-24T22:29:00.000-05:00

March 7
Liz says:
The question at hand is only this: Is he making lame transparent excuses about marriage to cover for the fact that he really doesn't ever see a future with you? That's the hard question. And women are smart. If they really got quiet and stopped listening to the excuses, or believing what they wanted to be true and what they hope he's really saying, and just got all centered about it, I think women would always know. They'll always know the difference between a man who truly has issues with marriage but is deeply committed to the relationship and them, and a guy who's just being a weenie.

March 15
If you can find him, he can find you. If he wants to, he will.

March 17
Ladies, you are going to meet, and have already met, many, many men in the years that constitute your dating life span. And I hate to tell you this, but some of these men will simply not be attracted to you. I know you're hot, but that's just the way it is.

March 20
Are there men who are too busy or have been through something so horrible that makes it hard for them to get involved? Yes, but there are so few of them that they should be considered urban legends.

March 25
Greg says:
The big questions is, "Is it okay for a guy to forget to call me?" I'm saying to you, "No." Barring disaster – someone had to be rushed to the hospital, he was just fired form his job, someone keyed his Ferrari – he should never forget to call you. If I like you, I don't forget you, ever. Don't you want the guy who'll forget about all the others things in his life before he forgets about you?

March 28
You can feel like crap and be alone. Or feel like crap and at least have someone to spend the holidays with. It seems like it might be a fair trade, except for the fact that it means the only two options you are giving yourself involve feeling like crap.

March 30
No matter how traumatic a divorce was… the person you plan on spending your life and having kids with should love you enough to get over it if getting married is important to you.

Pride

2006-01-12T01:00:00.000-05:00

I struggle with pride.  Most of you probably already know that as you've either seen it first hand, or you've heard me confess it, or both.  Actually, from what I hear from other people, most of us struggle with pride.  It's just funny how it manifests itself in different people.  Have I written about this before?  Feeling a little déjà vu…  Anyway, for probably over a year now I've been thinking about the idea of humility and pride and all that stuff, but humility is one of those things that it's real scary to ask for.  How does God teach humility?  He humbles you.  And it ain't no fun.  But, luckily, sometimes God teaches us things in other ways, too, and hopefully I'm not so stubborn that I can't learn things the not hard way.

So I've been reading a lot recently, which is part of the reason I haven't been blogging as much.  Reading and writing are both very time consuming and I think that other people have written things that are so much more interesting than what I would be writing about, so sometimes I opt just to read other people's stuff.  Plus, I don’t have to think as much then.  Writing sometimes makes my brain hurt.

So, what have I learned about pride and humility?  First of all, just as a person can CHOOSE to act in a loving manner even when they don't FEEL it, a person can CHOOSE to act in a humble manner even when every ounce of their being is screaming in indignation.  That's for starters.  So even when I think I'm right and the other person is wrong, that doesn't mean it's okay for me to tell them how stupid they are.  Even if I think it.  The goal, of course, is to actually have the appropriate attitude to go along with it, but that comes with time.  In the meantime, I can choose to suppress my own will and let God's mandates dictate my behavior.  But it's so hard…

Some of the other things I've learned have come from what I've been reading lately.  So tonight, let's take a look…

I've been reading the Chronicles of Narnia by CS Lewis.  I just finished The Horse and His Boy.  In this book, there is a horse named Bree who is an intelligent, talking war horse from Narnia, not the dumb, nontalking kind we are used to.  During the story, he and his boy, Shasta, and another horse and her girl, Hwin and Aravis, are being chased by a lion.  Shasta falls off Bree, but Bree continues to run in fear and leaves Shasta and the slower Hwin and Aravis behind.

Bree is shamed when he realized what he has done: "Slavery is all I'm fit for.  How can I ever show my face among the free Horses of Narnia?- I who left a mare and a girl and a boy to be eaten by lions while I galloped all I could to save my own wretched skin!"

The wise hermit responds: "My good Horse, you've lost nothing but your self-conceit.  No, no, cousin.  Don't put back your ears and shake your mane at me.  If you are really so humbled as you sounded a minute ago, you must learn to listen to sense.  You're not quite the great Horse you had come to think, from living among poor dumb horses.  Of course you were braver and cleverer than them.  You could hardly help being that.  It doesn't follow that you'll be anyone very special in Narnia.  But as long as you know you're nobody special, you'll be a very decent sort of Horse, on the whole, and taking one thing with another."

I'm good at some things.  Other things, not so much.  I had let my little brain get so wrapped up in the things I COULD do well, that I had begun to think myself better than other people.

I think that sometimes as Christians, we get to where we begin to compare ourselves to nonbelievers and end up feeling prideful.  Like we're better than them because we don't do some of the things that are so obviously self-destructive.  But we forget that things aren't quite so obvious to them.  We have been given the light, while they are still in darkness.  We forget the condition in which they live their lives, without the power of the Holy Spirit, without the hope of future glory with our Lord.  We begin to feel like talking war horses from Narnia, much superior to poor dumb horses.  But compared with who we SHOULD be, we are no one special.  And as long as we (and by 'we' I mean 'I') keep that in mind, we just might turn out to be a decent sort of horse.

Really, he's still not that into you

2006-01-06T01:11:00.000-05:00

Okay so the first post of He's Just Not That Into You was a success. Here's what we have from February. And no, I can't actually WAIT until February to post it. I'm impatient. Get over it.

February 1
Calling when you say you're going to is the very first brick in the house you are building of love and trust. If he can't lay this one stupid brick down, you ain't never gonna have a house, baby. And it's cold outside.

February 13
If a dude isn't calling you when he says he will or making sure you know that he's dating you, then you already have your answer. Stop making excuses for him, his actions are screaming the truth: He's just not that into you.

February 17
Greg says:
We may try to make you think differently but we men are just like you. We like taking a break from our generally mundane day to talk to someone we like. It makes us happy. And we like to be happy. Just like you. If I were into you, you would be the bright spot in my horribly busy day. Which would be a day that I would never be to busy to call you.

February 21
Why rush? It's only been five years. He's going to know you so much better after ten. And you have all the time in the world, right? You know, in case after ten years he decides he's still not ready. I hate to tell you this, but here's why he feels rushed: He's still not sure you're the one.

February 22
Wasting time with the wrong person is just time wasted. And when you do move on and find your right person, believe me, you're not going to wish you had gotten to spend more time with Stinky the Time-Waster or Freddy Can't-Remember-to-Call.

February 24
Seemingly Innocent Words and Phrases that Can Also Be Used For Evil

FRIEND
What it should mean: I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.
What it sometimes means: I'm just not that into you.

February 25/26
Instead of praying: "Dear God, bring me someone fabulous," try: "Dear God, make me into someone fabulous."

February 27
Hey. I know that guy you're dating. He's that guy who is so tired from work, so stressed about the project he's working on. He's just been through an awful breakup and it's really hitting him hard…. He is a man made up entirely of your excuses. And the minute you stop making excuses for him, he will completely disappear from your life.

Nuggets of truth

2005-12-29T00:35:00.000-05:00

I know I haven't posted for a while, but I just haven't been feeling all that inspired recently. But now I have a new topic. For Christmas, my mom got me a calendar: 365 days of "He's Just Not That Into You." Have you heard of the book? (My brother suggested we write a book called "She Ain't That Into Your Sorry Self Either. Get Over It. And Go Play Video Games.")

Anyway, I thought I'd share a few nuggets of truth that I found. Here's what I found for the month of January:

January 10
Grab a pen and list five reasons why you think you have every right or good reason to call him. Wait an hour. Or at least ten minutes. Then ask yourself: Do I seem pathetic? Do I sound like someone who doesn't trust my own innate hotness? Yes, you do! Now put your dialing finger away, get out of the house, and go find some fun.

PS: You just did a workbook exercise about a guy who hasn't even extended to you the energy of a phone call. Why would you want to chase that down?

January 16
A man would rather be trampled by elephants that are on fire than tell you he's just not that into you.

January 17
Liz says:
We go out with someone, we get excited about them, and then they do something that mildly disappoints us. Then they keep doing a lot more things that disappoint us. Then we go into hyperexcuse mode for weeks or possibly months, because the last thing we want to think is that this great guy who we are so excited about is in the process of turning into a creep.

January 18
In a poll of twenty males, 100 percent of the guys said "fear of intimacy" has never stopped them from getting into a relationship. One guy even remarked, "Fear of intimacy is an urban myth." Another one said, "That's just what we say to girls when we're just not that into them."

January 24
Beware of the word "friend." It can often be used by men or the women who love them to excuse the most unfriendly behavior. Personally, when I'm picking friends, I like the ones who don't make me cry myself to sleep.

January 28/29
Don't put an absurdly high value on him. Think of the millions of other girls doing without him, yet able to bear it!

Okay, folks, I'd LOVE to read your comments on this post!! Let me have it!

I'm in love...

2005-11-17T01:13:00.000-05:00

I have discovered Augustine.  I’ve heard Kenny talk about him a lot, but I didn’t really know much about him and had never read his work.  This spring we are starting a new ministry at Lake Pointe called Theological Roundtable, which will be a forum for discussion of works by people like Augustine, who is our first topic.  Augustine for Armchair Theologians was the recommended reading so I went to Borders last night to buy it.  The book is a commentary of sorts about Augustine’s work Confessions.  So rather than just getting a book about Confessions, I thought I might actually buy Confessions as well.  So I did.  I just sat there on the floor in the Religion aisle and flipped the pages…

Here’s what I read, from Book VI:
“I was greedy for preferment, profit, marriage and you laughed at me.  Through my desires I suffered the most bitter struggles, and you looked mercifully upon me – all the more so in that you did not allow me to find sweetness in anything that was not you.”

(Oh, my goodness!!  That just gives me chills!!!  God is merciful when He does NOT allow me to find satisfaction in anything but HIM!!!)

“Look, O Lord, on my heart; for it is you who willed that I should call to my heart all these things, and confess you.  Now let my soul cling to you, for you have drawn it from the lime of death that held it so tightly.  How unhappy it was!  You make my wound sting me more, so that I would leave everything and turn back to you, who are above all things, and without whom everything would be nothing; so that I should turn back to you, and be healed.”

A few other quotes, from Book I:
“…you change all things, but are yourself unchanging; you are never new and never old, yet you renew all things.”
“You are jealous and fear no rival.”
“…you are roused to anger, and remain calm.”
“You take back what you find, yet you had never lost it.”
“But woe to those who keep silence concerning you – who speak so much, and say so little!”
“What, for that matter, am I to you?  Why do you command me to love you?  And if I do not, why are you moved to anger and threaten me with utter misery?”

I think I’m in love.  I love great literature.  I don’t read all that much because I am spoiled to great writing, which is shamefully hard to come by.  I am grateful to have discovered Augustine.  But his talent is not what makes his work so great – it is his subject, the Lord God.

Surrogate Post

2005-10-31T21:04:00.000-05:00

Tonight, rather than posting some tidbit of wisdom or knowledge I think I’ve discovered, I’d like to point you to words I really needed to hear. Click here to read a blog post by none other than Carolyn McCulley. It’s sort of long, but it’s worth it. At least it was for me.

Friends are funny, no?

2005-10-25T16:58:00.000-04:00

Friends are funny, aren’t they? At least mine are. Most of the time. Occasionally, though, someone’s ‘hilarity meter’ will get all bonked up and they will be unable to determine what is actually funny and what is most definitely NOT.

One such ‘friend’ forwarded me the following story from Dilbert.com, which can be found here.

When I see news stories about people all over the world who are experiencing hardships, I worry about them, and I rack my brain wondering how I can make a difference. So I decided to start my own blog. That way I won’t have time to think about other people.

People who are trying to decide whether to create a blog or not go through a thought process much like this:

1. The world sure needs more of ME.
2. Maybe I’ll shout more often so that people nearby can experience the joy of knowing my thoughts.
3. No, wait, shouting looks too crazy.
4. I know – I’ll write down my daily thoughts and badger people to read them.
5. If only there was a description for this process that doesn’t involve the words egomaniac or unnecessary.
6. What? It’s called a blog? I’m there!

The blogger’s philosophy goes something like this:

Everything that I think about is more fascinating than the crap in your head.

The beauty of blogging, as compared to writing a book, is that no editor will be interfering with my random spelling and grammar, my complete disregard for the facts, and my wandering sentences that seem to go on and on and never end so that you feel like you need to take a breath and clear your head before you can even consider making it to the end of the sentence that probably didn’t need to be written anyhoo.

If that doesn’t inspire you to read my blog, I don’t know what will. You can find the Dilbert Blog at http://dilbertblog.typepad.com/

Then this ‘friend’ said this: “The quote about the crap in [other people’s heads]... that was you. All YOU, girl.”

Indeed, it may very well be. I mean, think about it. Let’s pick two people at random. What are the chances that the thoughts in one person’s head are in fact more interesting than the thoughts in the other person’s head? Now let’s choose 20 people. Surely, there must be someone in the group whose thoughts are more interesting than everyone else’s. Right? Following the same logic, there must be some subset of the population whose thoughts are actually more interesting than the thoughts of the general public as a whole. But let’s assume that there is another subset of the general public consisting of people who understand that they are not a part of the original, aforementioned subset, and yet aspire to improve their mental faculties and broaden their intellectual capacities by actually seeking out the thoughts and opinions of said subset.

A dilemma presents itself: How to get inspirational and interesting thoughts from one subset of the population to the other in a cost-effective, time-sensitive manner? Such a medium exists in today’s world. It’s called a blog.

It’s true that there are many blogs out in the blogosphere and some aren’t worth the hard drive space on which they are saved. However, judging from the hit counter on MY blog, that appears NOT to be the case for mine. Apparently, my blog is indeed frequented by a number of patrons, and since I sell no liquor there, cheap or otherwise, I must assume they return for the encouraging words.

Oh, wait. There’s more to the conversation…(NOTE: NNF is short for Not Nice Friend.)

Me: you know i may have to trash talk you now on the blog, right?
NNF: oh...
NNF: go for it.
NNF: can't wait to read it.
Me: you say that now...

Did you catch that? The NNF ‘can’t wait’ to read the blog. Thank you, my friend, for proving my point so eloquently. Couldn’t possibly have done it better myself.

Happy reading. :)

Prayers

2005-10-24T22:02:00.000-04:00

From The Pocket Book of Prayers:

O God, our father, by whose mercy and might the world turns safely into darkness and returns again into light: we give into your hands our unfinished tasks, our unresolved problems, and our unfulfilled hopes, knowing that only that which you bless will prosper.  To your great love and protection we commit each other and all your people, knowing that you alone are our sure defender; through Jesus Christ, our Lord.
-South India Prayer

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love.  For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
-Saint Francis of Assisi

Father, it is a humbling thing to be died for.  On this day let me remember that Jesus Christ, your Son, did exactly that for me.  And he went to his death knowing full well how often I would forget his love.  Let no pride keep me from kneeling at the foot of that cross.  In the name of Jesus my Savior I pray.  Amen.
-Peter Marshall

Birds. And me.

2005-10-24T00:34:00.000-04:00

This weekend I took part in the first ever Spiritual Orders Retreat with Lake Pointe Church.  We went to Daingerfield State Park in east Texas for a few days of isolation from the world.  We observed a number of the spiritual disciplines exercised by the saints of old in an attempt to reconnect with the way spiritual growth should be attained.

Friday we exercised Silence and Solitude.  Some of you may think I found it challenging to remain silent for 6 straight hours.  Oh, you would be wrong.  I love silence and I love solitude.  After I graduated from college, I moved to Houston for about 6 months.  I didn’t really make much of an effort to make friends there, which I know wasn’t healthy, but it suited me just fine.  I would leave work on Friday afternoon and not speak to a soul until Monday morning.  And I loved it.

It’s amazing what you learn when you spend that much time in quiet.  I was out looking over the water Friday morning and all I could hear was nature.  And then suddenly I heard a sound I didn’t recognize.  It almost sounded like traffic on the highway, but I knew it couldn’t be.  I looked up and saw a flock of birds flying overhead.  The sound I heard was the sound of their wings against the wind.  I don’t think I had ever heard that sound before.  It made me smile.

I continued to watch the birds and as they flew across the lake, they must have found something that interested them because they started flying in a circle, sort of hovering over the trees.  It was this tall vortex of swirling black birds.  I stood and watched them for a few minutes and I noticed how long the birds could just soar on the wind without having to beat their wings.  They just gracefully, slowly descended.

Part of our devotional material that day included an excerpt from Introduction to the Devout Life by St. Francis of Sales.  Here is a quote: The first point in these exercises is to appreciate their importance.  Our earthly nature easily falls away from its higher tone by reason of frailty and evil tendency of the flesh, oppressing and dragging down the soul, unless it is constantly rising up by means of a vigorous resolution, just as a bird would speedily fall to the ground if it did not maintain its flight by repeated strokes of its wings.

But wait.  I just watched a bird float in the air, without speedily falling to the ground AND without beating its wings.  At first I thought I found a flaw in the analogy, but I realized that it is simply incomplete.  Often times, without constant proactive effort on our part to maintain ourselves spiritually, we quickly fall to the ground.  But other times, we simply descend, slowly, almost imperceptibly.  We have fallen from great heights before we even realize we have begun to fall at all.

The Spring was very hard for me.  Sometimes spiritual growth involves feeling empowered and encouraged.  But other times it involves the destruction of our own will so that it can be replaced by the will of God.  That’s what I dealt with this spring.  I felt like a ratty old rocking chair with peeling paint and rusty nails.  But then it was like God took a sandblaster to me and blasted away all the nastiness of myself until all that was left was just the raw wood.  It’s interesting how such healing can come from such pain.

But then I felt like I plateaued.  There was no more spiritual growth.  I wasn’t falling back into any of the sins of yesteryear, so I felt like I was doing okay, but I wasn’t growing.  But now I understand that I hadn’t plateaued at all.  I was on that gentle descent.  The imperceptible fall.

Reminded me of a quote from The Screwtape Letters by CS Lewis:
It does not matter how small the sins are provided that their cumulative effect is to edge the man away from the Light and out into the Nothing.  Murder is no better than cards if cards can do the trick.  Indeed, the safest road to Hell is the gradual one – the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts.
Your affectionate uncle,
SCREWTAPE

In my pride, I allowed complacency to set the tone of my life.  I decided that I was doing well enough, and didn’t need to put forth much effort to maintain the ground I had gained.  I realized this weekend that I was mistaken.  I require communication with my God, or I will stumble.  The way I live my life is never neutral to God.  I’m either living for Him, or I’m not.

I pray that tomorrow is the beginning of a new era for me.  A time of growth, of maturity, of closeness with God.  A time that isn’t about me at all.

3 strikes, you're out

2005-10-13T21:47:00.000-04:00

I think chronologically.  I’ve known people that had no sense of time whatsoever and it drove me insane.  I like deadlines.  I feel lost without them, just sort of floating around on the wind.  That may seem like a surprise to some since I am, in many regards, a “fly by the seat of your pants” kind of girl, but it’s less about structure than it is about sequence.  I think that’s why I like baseball.  I know what’s going to happen.  Three strikes, you’re out.  Three outs, end of an inning.  The teams take turns getting to bat.  There’s much less chaos in baseball than football or basketball.  Some people think baseball is boring.  But it’s not about excitement; it’s about things happening in an orderly, chronological manner.

For example, this summer I went to Ghana.  I sent out my little fundraising letters to help pay for the trip and there was one friend who I knew had written a check, but hadn’t mailed it yet.  So even though I had written her Thank You card, I couldn’t send it yet, because things have to go in order.  She couldn’t receive her Thank You before she sent in her donation.  That would have just been wrong, not to mention completely unacceptable in my mind.

One last example of this endearing quirk of mine.  I love the Lord of the Rings movies.  Don’t ask how many times I’ve seen them.  They are just fantastic.  Anyway, there is a scene in Fellowship of the Ring where Gandalf is fighting the balrog and he falls into the crevice and then Frodo yells, “NOOOOOO!”  At the beginning of The Two Towers, this scene is replayed as a dream that Frodo has.  But in the dream, Frodo yells “no” first, and THEN Gandalf falls.  You have no idea how much that bothers me.  Well, you might, since I’m sitting here writing about it.

Since we’re on the subject of the Lord of the Rings, I might as well go ahead and confess that I’m a dork.  I won’t tell you how much of a dork, but trust me, it’s bad.  I recently played Lord of the Rings Trivial Pursuit and I kicked butt.  Of course, it was an empty victory since most of the people playing had only seen the movies once.  There were some who hadn’t even seen all three yet.  The real test will be playing against other LOTR dorks.