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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's because she eats poop.

Cuz that's all I've got

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

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!

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

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?