Working Toward Willow

Famously, the willow tree is able to bend and give and twist and not break. I am not willowy. There, I admitted it. I am stiff and staunch and stubborn, like the oak tree. That is what the last several months of my life have taught me with its cumulative experiences. I see things a certain way, and I dig in my heels, and that is how I want them to be. My way is not always the right way, but it seems I have seen things for a fairly long time, the Wright way. And now, I must learn to bend. To give. To twist and not break. What a daunting change. I have always (now I know, pridefully) considered myself as someone who adapted easily to change. But, apparently, in addition to being stubborn, I have also been delusional! Or maybe I am just getting older and set in my ways. Anyway, my dad pointed out to me that I have always been attracted to adventure and variety, but in his opinion, I have never taken kindly to change. *Pop!* Bubble burst. Add that to a mounting list of needle pricks my ego has been administered lately. Think you've got it all together? Pile it all into a moving truck and then into a storage building, and TRY to figure out where you've put it. I had to remember, upon returning from my weekend Mother's Day road trip to Marshall with my mom last night, to try and unearth a prescription that was in some box, somewhere. Luckily, I'm a moving box labeler, and finding the box was not as difficult a task as it could have been (needle in a haystack). So, with a fair amount of ease, I went to the box, and I fine tuned my disorderly way of thinking to remember exactly which box-within-a-box I had stored the prescriptions in for ease of unpacking. There it was! Then, I opened a few more boxes. Boxes are not my friend. Especially not moving boxes. Why? They are full of change. Not coins (well, some have coins), either. They usher out the old and bear in the new. Maybe that is why I am hesitating to unpack them. They are full of change. And I've finally caught up with the adjustments I've had to make thus far. This whole purge and merge experience has surely been in answer to my foolish prayer to God that he break me down and show me my need for him. I'm like that. I have to be backed all the way into the corner or beat all the way down in order for me to perform the simple act of letting go of my anxieties and to believe that God will supply my needs. Or at the very least to accept the comfort and calme God offeres me when I feel like I am in the vortex of it all. Let's just say that that little prayer has been answered ten times over, and like that one where you pray for patience, I do not advise uttering those fateful, pleading words unless you surround yourself with seatbelts and airbags and rubber walls and sympathetic ears. All of this to say that I was bombarded this weekend with questions of "how is marital bliss?" and "how's married life?" and "where is Chris?" and smiling sheepishly in response, I could only think to say, "It's good -- it's the biggest total change I've ever made in my life, and it's weird, and I let him have a break from me this weekend, and do you want the Hollywood or the Dallas answer?" Being married is great, but it's no cakewalk, and I feel like more people should take the responsiblity of being honest with people when they ask -- so that newlyweds who are smacked in the face with all that change do not feel guilty or bad about themselves when they truly understand that being and staying married is one of the most difficult things that one can ever choose to do. And that "loving a person just the way they are, it's no small thing (Sara Groves)." Chris loves me just the way I am. And that is CERTAINLY no small thing. I MUST drive him crazy on an hourly basis. But if he's still here on the eve of two months of marriage to a woman who has been ridiculously ill and uncomfortable in her own skin for nearly six straight weeks, he will be here when we celebrate our silver and golden anniversaries. I know that. And I love him for that. God blesses us both!

Hives Again

Raise your hand if you are sick and tired of hearing about me and my hives outbreaks! Seriously. They are back. Again. I am not completely covered (yet), but they appear to be spreading at a breakneck rate. I am tapering off of yet another round of steroids, and they are making me insane. Like, literally. My brother Jason told me the other day that based on some of the behaviors I described that I had been exhibiting, it sounds like I am suffering with symptoms of 'Roid Rage. Maybe I can become a professional wrestler next. Chris and I have been entertaining the thought of buying a home farther east, specifically, in Rockwall County. However, it does not appear that all the planets are properly aligned for us to do that right now, and I think we might both be at peace with that reality. I have been asked to help to administer the TAKS test to various students this week, and with the responsibility comes a sense of foreboding like none other. I cannot imagine if I were actually the classroom teacher for a TAKS grade. They should get paid extra. I am so tired lately. It is strange. The doctor said that the foggy, exhausted feeling could be due to the steroids. Not to mention the meanness. I have never BEEN sooooo moody and mean in my life. (Some would probably argue this point). It's an ugly, ugly feeling, let me tell you. Sleepy. Must walk around now.

Updates on Monthaversary

Well, it's been one month since the big day, and we are both still alive! I know, that sounds like it should have been at least a minimal expectation! I was finally able to move out of my Mesquite house last weekend, with the help of my mom, Chris, my brother Jason and my friend Sandra. What an undertaking. Chris and I are looking to move out of the city, perhaps out to Rockwall or Kaufman County. Where we can see stars at night and feel safe and a part of a community where we can get involved in a church and really set down some roots. We looked at houses in Heath yesterday, and one of them has really caught our four eyes. It's older, but it has been updated recently, and there are quite a few extremely charming things about it. It reminds me a lot of some of the groovy 1970's homes I saw and visited when working in Los Angeles. Very unique. The harsh and sweeping effects of my allergic reaction to penicillin are still raging in my body, and having never been an unhealthy person, I have determined that I, alone, am completed unequipped for dealing with illness. I know I am probably being tested (feel like I am failing at the moment), so that God can show me that if I rely solely on him, I will be able to endure, but wow! it's difficult. We are about to begin the sixth six weeks grading period at school, and I am incredulous. Just a day or two ago, I really felt like it was still October. My students, however, have found a way to learn so much in spite of my exhaustion and inattentiveness at times with them. They are genuinely concerned for me, and the other day, five year old Josue asked if he and I could pray. So he took my hand and prayed to Jesus for me to get better. Outstanding! I am having a difficult time focusing on grad school, simply because I'd much rather watch TV, be with my husband, and make orderly the house that all my stuff has rendered chaotic, but I am going to persevere through these last few weeks so that I can hopefully get 'er done and be proud of the results. I like my new coffeemaker, but I don't think it keeps the coffee hot enough. Will have to break out the thermal carafes -- one day when I figure out which box they are in! Many of you have give gifts since the wedding (or at the wedding), and I have simply not been able to make time to send out that final batch of thank you notes yet. They are coming, and we appreciate you -- and your patience. They'll get there. I promise. Emily Post and Amy Vanderbilt might look down on me for their tardiness, but I will do them! It's nice to be married -- I hope to be able to really get good at it this summer, when it will be my primary focus. I guess it is my focus now, but I don't feel like I am being a very good student! Pray for us, and thank God that I married a patient man!

Avoidance

Let it be known that, from this point forward, every entry that I write will officially be written because I am trying to avoid doing something far more practical with 5 days left till the wedding! Today, it would be packing my entire house. I have a giant Marks-A-Lot marker taped to a lanyard hanging around my neck, and I have "moving central," which is a small cardboard box with all my rolls of packing tape and extra markers to write on boxes, a case knife, and a receipt from Kroger. (Obviously, the receipt is superfluous). I am listening to NPR, a story about American who live at the North Pole (by choice) and have to keep a can under their bed to pee in during the night because it's too cold to get up. Sounds fun, huh? Buy me a one-way ticket! There are no birds, no trees, no grass at the North Pole. So, they keep a sofa in the greenhouse to hang out and keep from going totally off-kilter. Now, the lady is talking about how someone came into her greenhouse and stole all her zucchinis. She says she'll never let that one go. I cannot find my passport. I always know where my passport is. Maybe it's symbolic. That I am not feeling the urge to escape as much as I used to feel. I am so excited to see everyone at the wedding. More people RSVP'ed "yes" than I ever expected. And they're coming from everywhere -- California, Louisiana, Tennessee, Kansas, D/FW, Missouri, Arkansas . . . the list goes on. I know it will be difficult to be able to personally visit with everyone there, but that really is my goal. We are not planning on doing a receiving line just because it creates this horrible bottle-neck at the entrance, and our faces could not take a break from smiling so much in a row (no new wrinkles!), so we will just have to circulate. Some long-lost friends are coming (they were never lost, really, but as we all know, life gets in our way sometimes), and some family, and some former co-workers. My sister and I were talking the other day about all the funky dynamics that are going to be going on -- no fear that it won't work, but it will surely be worthy of documenting. The music is going to be awesome -- it's all live, except for what will play during seating (and even some of that will be live). I'm going to have to listen to some of it from around the corner. (Don't peek!) I am getting comfortable sitting on this bed typing, so I must force myself back into the fray. I still have not made the reception music mixes. Yipes!

Lost Wedding Dress

Yes, that is correct. I called yesterday to check on the status of alterations on my wedding dress, and after asking me to spell my name about 100 times, the woman at the shop, who could not FIND my dress finally said, "Let me get a number, Christi, where I can call you back. It might not be back from Florida yet." I'm sorry. I don't remember authorizing my wedding dress to take a spring break in Florida. WHAT? I knew something was up when she actually said to me halfway through the conversation, "Don't worry. Don't be upset. We'll find it for you." Um, yes you will. Or you will refund all my money and give me a new one. About a half hour later, there was a voice mail on my phone from Janice saying, "Hi, Christi. As soon as the pressure was off, I went directly to your dress. We've got it ready for you, and you can call and make an appointment to come in and try it on. I'm sorry." Oh. My. Gosh. I nearly died. Anyhoo, after running by my house to pick up my new cell phone that FedEx had dropped off, I drove to Garland, with my inordinately stuff head, and tried it on -- perfect fit! Now, of course, I want all my clothes personally tailored to fit only me. Is that too much to ask? I have been attacked by allergies again, of some sort, and my head feels as if it is stuffed full of gunky cotton balls. Lovely. Maybe if I'm lucky, it will be pneumonia. But what is a girl to do when she has developed an acute allergy to -cillin and -sporin antibiotics one week before her wedding? Go to the doctor? Risk the Plague of the Hives again? I don't think so. If anyone has any ideas, do email me. Or write a comment here. If anyone has any connections with any natural healers in the D/FW area who might like to do some pro bono work, tell them to call me, too. I hate coughing. My chest hurts. I have been to the doctor more times in the past month than I have in the past year cumulative, I think. 9 days. Can't wait. Hope to feel LOTS better by then!

Me and two of three maidens

That's Lori Kay Lorenz on the left (friend since the wombs) and my sister Tara Evers on the right. My sister, Karyn Wright, could not be with us because she was working and/or being trapped in a blizzard in Long Island, NY. Oh, and she was sick, too. She's in Dallas right now and she's feeling better. We missed her greatly. She would have had a lot of fun with the inflated lip thing. You gotta laugh about it.

Remember the sister in "Sixteen Candles" on her wedding day?

I am certain that Emily Post would turn over in her grave if she actually saw me sliding out of my chair this way at a bridal shower in my honor. But, then, i'm also fairly certain that if Emily Post paid really close attention to me in my daily life, she'd pretty much look like a pig roasting on a spit in her grave for all the turning she'd be doing! I was doing my very best considering my innards were on fire with symptoms from a heretofore-unbeknownst-to-me antibiotic allergy that I had been fueling for going on three weeks. At least my shirt was pretty!

Me and Mom at Central Baptist Bridal Shower

My Angelina Jolie Pillow Lips were starting to deflate at this point thanks to Benadryl

I'd Like To Thank The Academy

So. It’s Oscar night. Unlike in many years past, I am not sitting clustered around the television with all my movie-loving friends, vying to win the prize for having made the most, best educated guesses on our party ballot. Where am I instead? Sitting in a pile on my mother’s couch in Marshall, Texas, nursing a poisoned body. Yes. Poisoned. Unintentionally. Unknowingly, even. Did you know that even if you have never exhibited any kind of allergy to any kind of drug for your entire life on earth, all of a sudden, you can be allergic to two different classes of drugs? Regrettably, it is true. Last Wednesday, my hives starting to show up again, little by little, disguised as little red chicken-pox-like dots on my torso. On Thursday, they were back in larger patches, on more parts of my body. Thursday afternoon, I was having fever and chills and flu-like achy body symptoms. I called our employee health clinic to see if I could come get a flu test (because I had been exposed to a co-worker with the flu), but they were booked up and made me an appointment for noon on Friday. Upon leaving work on Thursday, it occurred to me that I was staring down a weekend with a commute to and from Marshall for my very first (two) bridal showers at my mom’s church and at my church there. I had been looking forward to that weekend for a VERY long time, and I decided that it was a better idea to go ahead to another walk-up clinic Thursday night, get the flu diagnosis and start taking Tami-flu ASAP. After several hours in the waiting room, I went back to the exam rooms, and they swabbed my nose, testing the fruits of that excavation, and the flu test was negative. No flu? Why did I feel so close to death’s door? They gave me a couple of prescriptions – one for something to help me sleep when my busy brain will not let me and an antibiotic called Ceftin for my alleged sinus infection (I’m still positing that the “doctor” who attended me in that clinic was a veterinarian-in-waiting). I waited until the next day to fill my prescriptions so that I could do that at our employee health clinic and not have to pay a $100 deductible (a serendipitous, God-thing because if I had started that antibiotic one day earlier . . . well, just read on for the gory details and could-have-been-worse scenario). Cut to Friday morning. More hives. Some fever. Went to work and had plans to cancel the noon appointment at the clinic. As the morning wore on, and I found myself unable to stop scratching, I decided to spend my lunch break with the doctor. She saw the hives, prescribed me a steroid pack to last seven days, gave me some anti-anxiety medication to last 20 days should I need it, and prescribed another steroid shot. And she sent me on my way. I filled those prescriptions as well as the ones given to me by Doctor Doolittle the night before. When I got to my car, I pulled out some cash to buy myself some lunch on the way back to campus, and I took the first dose of steroids and antibiotics. During the afternoon, nothing felt better. Friday night, I got dinner with my friend Karen at Napoli’s (“Good evening, beautiful ladies, are you enjoying your dinner?” – if you’ve ever eaten there, you know that guy). Then Karen followed me to my house to help me get together some boxes and other items for Chris and Jason to move to Dallas on the weekend. One of the items was my queen-sized bed, so I slept in my guest room. I usually turn the heat down at night, but I guess because I was having fever, I got chilled during the night, and mindlessly reached over to turn on my heated mattress pad so I could warm up and sleep comfortably. When I woke up Saturday morning, my hives had multiplied and intensified. I ate a little breakfast, took my medicine, got ready, packed and hit the road. As I was driving and listening to a very interesting book on tape, whose title I have totally forgotten by now, I glanced in the rearview mirror only to see that my lips had swollen four times their usual size. Fine if you are looking to make a name for yourself in the adult film industry, not so fine if you are going to meet a roomful of lovely ladies, friends and family, and poised for a lot of camera flashes. Some of my own family did not recognize me! I tried as best I could to maintain composure (somewhat successfully – I learned as a very young girl the value of laughing at myself). There were about forty people at the shower in the beautiful Central Baptist Church parlor, and I would like to take this moment to apologize to any of you wonderful guests with whom I did not get to visit. By the time you saw me, I had ingested Benadryl, Xanax (on doctor’s advice), and Ceftin, the antibiotic that I did not know was poisoning me. Not until Sunday did I understand that I had been fueling the problem by taking those antibiotics. I had blamed every other obvious variable in my life for the past three weeks for all this diabolical distress. First, I had no idea. Then I blamed the paint primer. Next, I thought it might be work stress. Packing and moving stress? Primer stress again? Then, there the hives were again, out of the blue. The doctor suggested that with all of the above, perhaps my ordinarily strong-as-an-ox immune system was suppressed, and it could not resist my newfound penicilline and cephalosporin allergies. Yes, both of them. Three weeks ago, I had strep throat (for the first time in my life, and I have been exposed to it A LOT!), and I took a full, ten-day mega-course of Amoxicillin. AND a SHOT of penicillin straight into my system! Several days later, the first hives breakout occurred, but it coincided with the paint priming of my future living room, so it was easy to blame the fumes. Two steroid shots. Hives gone within 24 hours. But apparently, the poison was there in my body, incubating, waiting for those shots to wear off seven days later. Because on the 8th day . . . scratch-scratch, itch-itch. Fast forward to 2nd course of antibiotics (I hate the things, by the way, and I usually try to ride out the illness if it’s not too severe). But this time, there was too much going on, and I just didn’t have the energy to fight it by myself. Big mistake. Well, clearly I need an editor, because I am going on too long, but all of this to say that I have been shoveling poison into my sweet little body for three weeks now, and right now, I look like I got closed up in a hermetically sealed room with a swarm of killer bees. Since Friday, I have used three full tubes of cortisone cream to help avoid itching to death, and today, when I could no longer stand it, I asked my mom to take me to Longview to the doctor. I had enough clarity to call my insurance company to find someone to see on a Sunday, and they kept me out of the ER when my mom remembered a little clinic in a shopping center in Pine Tree. I called WEB TPA back, and they confirmed that the clinic accepted my insurance. And there was virtually no wait. I begged for another of those quick-acting steroid shots, but the doc told me that since I had had a shot on Friday (glad I remembered to mention that), a shot on Sunday would send my body into adrenal shock which would then send my body into the ER with IV’s and a multiple-day stay. Pass on that option. Thanks. So he gives me a much higher dose of oral steroids, and tells me to eat lunch and clears me to go to my second bridal shower for the weekend. We make a mad dash to Marshall, I call two of the shower hostesses to let them know I will be there, but I will be late, and my mother drops me off at her house and goes to Walgreen’s to buy two cans of burn spray (perhaps my most inspired idea to date – numb the skin so that it doesn’t know it’s itching!), four tubes of cortisone cream (as of right now, displaced by the lidocaine spray), new steroids and Zantac (which apparently makes the steroids work more efficiently for whatever reason). Oh, one more gory detail. When you are being poisoned, and your body figures out that it needs to get rid of the poison for you . . . guess what? It does. But I don’t throw up. So . . . imagine the delight of adding the alternative method of purging poison into the red, itchy, hivy mix. So, that was my weekend. How was yours? In honor of Oscar, I would like to thank . . . My mother, who has nursed me like a baby through this crisis, and who has gone out of her way to make certain that I am comfortable and fully prepared for whatever comes next. My friend Lori, who gave up an inordinate amount of her personal/family time this weekend to come to my showers and to offer help and encouragement and ideas to ease my mind and body. My sister Tara, who found hours in her days that I know she does not feel like she has, to come to my showers, to keep track of all those amazing gifts, and to extend to me her unique brand of empathy, genuine positive regard and just plain beautiful smile and good humour. My friend Becky, who arrived within minutes after my calling her to give her expert opinion of the spread of the hive monster all over my body. My aunt Tommie, who let me crash at her house when my mom’s neighbors were burning leaves to which I am allergic, and I just didn’t feel like I could stand to get congested on top of all this other. Oh, and I think I owe her, like, three rolls of toilet tissue for that three hour visit. The lovely ladies who put together those two showers for me – I was so excited about them, and I hope that, in spite of my grotesque appearance and compulsion to show you my red, splotchy skin, you were able to see that I was brimming with gratitude, and I truly did feel like a woman being honored by people who love her and her mother. Thanks to each of you! To every guest who gave of their time and treasure to share this special time with me – I know there were numerous of you with whom I did not get to spend much time catching up, but please know that I saw you there, and I will never forget the gift of you!

Christi Must Really Be Feeling Bad

She must really be feeling bad because she actually forgot the log-in to her own blog. Christi forgetting how to log in to write something? Hard to believe, huh?

The Down Side

The down side of all the marvelous-ness of getting married and having a fun wedding is that it unfortunately also involved downsizing my life, purging the unnecessary and unsentimental, and kicking some crap to the curb. I'll be all glad I did it when it's all over and done with, but right now, it's bogging me down. I slept 14 hours last night save about 15 minutes when I got up to go to the restroom and read an email or two. And you know what? I think I might give it a go again tonight. I packed about 18-20 boxes, and I have two huge bags of stuff to give away, and three other huge bags of stuff to just put in the dumpster. Ridiculous. I caught up on some programs on the DVR while wading through all of it today, and I learned that 5% of people who smoke get lung cancer, but 33% of people who smoke get emphysema. I saw two sets of lungs that had been autopsied: one from a smoker and one from a non-smoker. Yipes. An alarming difference. I am so thankful that with all the things I ever flirted with that were bad for me, I successfully avoided becoming a smoker. Off-topic, I know. But I just saw the program, so it was fresh on the brain. We have started to get RSVP cards back, and so far, most responses have been in the affirmative. Very exciting! Next weekend begins the out-of-town-every-weekend trend. Next weekend, I will be in Marshall for a couple of church showers -- I am very excited about those because I know I will get to see some friends I have not seen in a very long time! Then, the next weekend, I am going to Nashville for a shower there with some super-fun friends! That should be a big time, too. Of course, as you can imagine, getting engaged and then muddling through the contents of my life have evoked quite a few uncontainable emotions over the past few months. I have at last physically purged some things that I feel like I had emotionally purged some time ago. And what a wonderful feeling. I realized yesterday that it was probably the mega-doses of steroids that I was given on Tuesday that made me feel like I was in a rage all the rest of the week -- I felt very emotional and very aggressive and overwhelmingly desperate a time or two. There have been some situations at work that have really worn me down, and I finally got to a point on Friday where I just had to fully vent about them. And I had a very important (at least to me) meeting with the parent of one of my students whom I hope to have given a greater understanding of the nightmare I live with her child every day. We shall see if empathy occurs and then if it provokes action. I want to be finished with graduate school. I wish my life was one where I could take a year off from work and just finish the Masters in the next year. Wouldn't that be amazing? I'm just not sure that is my life. I think it's time to go to sleep. And it's only 9:32 pm. I have not seen Chris in almost a week. I miss him. But that's the way the ball bounces sometimes, I guess. He probably needed a break from me, anyway. I'm a bit much for people sometimes, I think.

Cognizance

So, I have been forced to acknowledge something that I always know but always seem to forget. I internalize stress. Not every time, mind you. Sometimes, I can be snappish. But, as a rule, it manifests itself this way: fatigue, illness, insomnia. I've had all recently. Another thing I always do is ignore the proven fact that if I exercise, I feel better. Ultimately, I end up looking better, too, but feeling better is far more important. In the past few weeks, I have had more than enough bouts of not sleeping through the night, I had strep throat for the first time in my life, I sprained my right foot, and last night, at 3:00 am, I was plagued with giant, red hives all over my body. When I went to the doctor this afternoon, contrary to popular public opinion, the doc suggested that the hives were simply due to not having ventilated the room well enough last night when Chris and I were painting primer on the walls of his current (our future) living room. He questioned if it was well-enough ventilated at one point, but I kind of blew it off. Yipes was I sorry when the clock struck three! What a miserable day. I stayed at school and tried my best not to lapse into snappishness, but I was surely glad to have those two steroid shots in my booty twelve hours later! And they were free, which makes them doubly delicious. Back to popular opinion -- everyone kept saying, "It's probably just the pre-wedding jitters." I have absolutely no pre-wedding jitters. Isn't that cool? Seriously, things just keep falling into place, and we have made most of our major decisions. My family is being absolutely amazing, and my friends have lent more than just a few helping hands. Incredible. I am so thankful that somewhere in the past several years, I have been taught the true meaning of friendship, the value of giving without expecting in return, and to always expect the best. I'm not perfect, mind you -- I still am a big worry-wart, and my uncanny ability to troubleshoot an idea before setting it into motion (this is often mistaken for shooting down ideas or being unconstructively critical or balloon-popping, by the by) sometimes thwarts the very execution of the idea. In spite of all that still plagues me from time to time, I have still come out on top -- I love, I am loved, and I know love. What more do I need?

Fatigue

I am sleepy. I had to drive to and from Marshall to visit with my Dad and the lovely ladies who are putting together the food for the reception. Decisions and lists were made, and that project is in more-than-capable hands! I was listening to a very interesting book on tape called "Intuitive Listening" by Christiane Northrup and Mona Lisa Schulz. It's all about how various other issues and problems in our lives (bad relationships, dissatisfying careers, abuse, etc.) manifest themselves in physical problems in our bodies. Quite powerful stuff. I call it a book, but it is more like a conversation between friends, so it's interesting and captivating -- not a droll actor reading someone else's words. Oh, and I finally finished listening to "Wild At Heart" by John Eldredge. I'd read it, but I felt like I had missed quite a bit or at least forgotten quite a bit. Everyone, men and women, ought to read that book. It's dead-on, in my opinion. Well, it's eleven days until the wedding, and all appears to be well. Well, except for some nasty respiratory nightmare that manifested itself in my lungs at the end of my lingerie shower on Friday evening. Someone wondered out loud the other day if I woke up each day looking for the frogs to start raining out of the sky since I have been plagued by so many bizarre things during the past month or so. Who knows? I need to make a master list of everyone involved in the wedding to share with all involved in the wedding. I'm gonna chug some cough suppressant and do that before falling asleep.

Various

We decided to have our reception at the church as well. It will be in a separate building, a big ol' building with fabulous audio/visual capabilities -- and we are all about that, you know! Anyhoo, I had class tonight, and it was very interesting and thought-provoking, but I really wanted to be somewhere else. Then, although very tired, I had to go to the mall to try on undergarments to be work with my wedding gown. A bother. But a necessity. And I had to do it tonight because I am having my first meeting with the alterations lady tomorrow. Hopefully, she will have time to do what I need done. It sucks. That the alterations cost as much as the dress. Maybe I should have just dropped $600 on one of those original ones I looked at. Ugh. But I love the one I have. I'd just love it more if it already fit perfectly. I am so glad tomorrow is Friday. I have not really enjoyed the heck out of teaching this week. Although, there have been some beautiful moments. Like when my student who withdrew to move to Fort Worth last week popped in for a visit, and almost every kid in my class started smiling and singing out her name. Then they gathered 'round her, hugging her and telling her that they missed her. Which made her mother break down and cry right there in the classroom because she wishes so much that they had not had to move and take her out of our class. I miss her, too. She's very intelligent, very serious but an absolute delight. I was sweating like a hog in Dillard's, and I was beginning to think I was having some sort of hot flash or something (happy wedding). Then I got home, and I started having one of those fun hypoglycemic moments when you can't get the jar of peanut butter open fast enough to make yourself the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich which is the only thing that will make you feel better in a moment like that. Then I ate some organic cereal. Can someone please tell me how to get motivated to exercise on a regular basis. Not because I am preparing for a wedding, but because I know it's good for me. I don't want to be a big blob. Now or ever. But I feel like that's what I am. I should probably take a moment to realize that I am thinking irrationally and to glance at the calendar to see which part of my demonic menstrual cycle I am on at this instant. No wonder pregnant women "glow." They aren't having to deal with the altnerative abomination. Geez. Christi, how do you REALLY feel about it. Invitations have gone out, most of them anyway. Can someone come up and clean and pack my house for me? That would be a great wedding present. I need to go to sleep. I've been up way too late by my standards the past few nights. If it's in the double digits, it's too late for me on a school night. And we are hovering near those now. Night night.

Progress

So, the firethroat was, in fact, strep throat, which in all of my years, I have never had. And now I have. May it be the first and last time. First of all, it was horrible pain, and I have a notoriously high tolerance for pain. That pain, however, I could live without. I felt like it took all the muscles in my entire upper body to force myself to swallow. Even if it WAS just my own spit. Never mind a drink of water or tea. Second, I cannot imagine feeling like that if I were a kid. My ears were hurting, and I have no recollection of childhood earaches, but I can totally see how a child might act out in class or be REALLY grumpy if they were in earache-land. My school nurse probably hates me because I send students down when I notice they are more lethargic or less bouncy than usual -- I do not have the ability to feel a forehead and determine if there is fever, but I would say that my accuracy rate for guessing it's a fever based on behavioral clues is about 90%. Before the firethroat put me down for the weekend, we were able to find Jeorgia and Hope's flower girly dresses at Macy's on mega-sale, and my mom found her dress and shoes for the wedding. That was a big check-mark off the list of things to do. The invitations should arrive on my doorstep today, according to DHL's shipping information on the internet, says Chris, and Karyn is coming to spend the night Thursday and Friday to help do some addressing. The invitation/address list is almost complete, and that's a good feeling, too. We are going to work on the "order of service" this weekend, too, and I am hoping to get that nailed down. Chris has totally changed the look of the web site to look less like Halloween (his description) and more like our actual wedding colors/theme. Big asset, having his talents at our disposal! We are going to look at our engagement portrait proofs on Saturday, and then we are trekking to Marshall to have a look at some reception site options. Believe it or not, it is STILL up in the air. It's frustrating, but so far, I have not let it wear me down (unless that's what I can attribute the strep throat to?). I just want everyone who comes to the party to have a great time and to be really glad they decided to make the trip, whether across town or across the country. I am going to Julie's mom's house this afternoon to see if she is going to be able to do the alterations on my dress that I need. If I don't stop eating, it won't need any -- I will fill it out just fine! But that will not be the case. We returned to Park Cities Baptist Church on Sunday morning to re-visit their Nearly Wed class, primarily just to let them know that we are getting married. We (mostly I) are going to be out of town several weekends between now and the wedding, so we could not attend them all, but it was interesting to be there again. It's just a helpful and thought-provoking class. More people should look to have their thoughts provoked before getting too deeply involved in a relationship. It is time to jump in the shower. Or step lightly. Yeah, I'll do that.

Firethroat

My throat hurts so bad that I have taken to numbing it in order to be able to swallow my own spit without crying.

Photo Shoot

Just got home from a photo session with Chris where we sat for engagement portraits. It was super-fun. The photographer, Candice White, was super-laid-back and fun, and we had a good time being serious AND silly. Of which we both are, quite regularly. We had a clothes change or two, and we stood, and we sat, and we squatted. I cannot wait to see the proofs! My friend Richard just called from New Orleans to discuss his visit to Texas for The Event. Very exciting. He is one fun dude. And we just had a hilarious spontaneous memory about something that happened a few years ago -- I love that. Anyway, he's putting in for his vacation today, and he plans, in true Richard style, to attend every fiesta we have that week. He'll probably find a way to make a fiesta where there was not one before, too! Anyway, back to the photo shoot -- the photographer's name is Candice White, and she was really easy to smile for, so I hope the pics turn out great. Perhaps you will see one in your favorite local newspaper sometime soon. I am writing a Personal Cultural Analysis for my Counseling the Culturally Diverse Client class right now, even though it is not due until Valentine's Day. I have the time and brain power right now, so I figured if I can knock that one out, I should get 'er done. I have to watch some films for this class, too, so that's kind of exciting! Back to that paper now. The photographer was playing an album by an artist named Grace Potter, and I've just bought two of her albums on iTunes, so now I have a soundtrack for the work at hand. Oh, and by the way, hi, Joyce! Hope you are having a fun Saturday!

Aflutter

Today, after work, I went to do some beauty stuff. I love beauty stuff. I'm trying out this bare escentuals stuff. They told me I can bring it back if I have any reaction to it. It looks really natural as best I can tell, and that's what I am going for. I also needed some hair stuff, and the store I went to had MOP products, which I love. And some of them were even on 75% off sale! Anyhoo, I also picked up a few items of clothing because Chris and I are having an official engagement portrait session tomorrow. Muy excited! Anyway, I hope we look cute. Of course, right now, I have a huge scratch on my nose, but that's why God made Photoshop, right? I don't usually have a big scratch on my nose, so I have NO qualms with making that correction for posterity's sake. I am muy sleepy and quite cold, so I might go to sleep soon. I am having breakfast tomorrow with a former coworker whom I miss so very much I just realized I have tried to not think about how much because it will just make it worse. She's someone who has a genuine passion for helping kids, and that spirit is something that I am lacking in my midst these days. Time for yogurt.

Unrelated Oscars Thing

How do I know when my mind is stretched too thin? When the Oscar nominations come out on 1/22/2008, and I don't even THINK to look at them until 6:15 am on the 23rd! Anyhoo, although I have not been a very faithful cinema-goer in the past year, I did discover this, upon reading through the noms: I have actually met and chatted with one of the nominees for Best Actor in a Supporting Role! One year, at the Sundance Film Festival, I was invited to a private party featuring some of my favorite songwriters (Emmylou Harris, Patty Griffin, David Baerwald), who wound up doing their "show" sitting on barstools in the tiny living room of a mountainside condo. And Casey Affleck was one of the actors invited as well. We chatted for a while and learned we were big fans of these same writers. It's a mad, mad, mad, mad world. He's tiny. FYI. It was sort of cooler the time I met Anthony Hopkins, but the Casey Affleck thing was much more casual and far less like a crazed woman from Texas running up to meet Hannibal Lecter while he was being the Grand Marshal of a 4th of July parade in Pacific Palisades, California, with his grandchildren. I'm not sayin'. I'm just sayin'.

Excitement!

Tonight, I found out that, barring any unforeseen circumstances, all three songwriters that I signed while in Nashville are coming to sing at our wedding! How cool is that? I am so honored. You will love them and their amazingly talented and kind-hearted selves. The muscles in my neck and shoulders are about as tense as they have ever been. Thankfully, it has nothing to do with wedding planning. All of that is going quite well. It has to do with trying to be an effective kindergarten teacher, administering state-mandated testing, attending graduate school, AND weaving in planning a wedding with all of the above. I have not been able to see Chris in over a week, and he asked me out on a date for Saturday. We are spending the afternoon at Grapevine Mills mall to use some Christmas gift cards, then going out to eat and then on to a place called Love & War In Texas, to hear my friend Austin Cunningham play a show. It will be big fun. I'm just excited to get together and just chill out with Chris. It looks like things are coming together for the downtown reception -- we appear to have the blessing of both county and city officials. Now, we need to get the paperwork and applications and permits all set in place. I am very "get everything in writing"-oriented, so I am looking forward to closing that deal with as few speedbumps as possible. It also looks like we have decided to have the Dallas fiesta at what will be "our" house by March 22nd! We are going to kick home cleaning and improvements into high gear over the next little while (I told Chris that although "domestic goddess" is not a term anyone would use to describe me, I can definitely play house when I am under the gun!). I love it! Today was my last day with students until Tuesday, and I have to say that I am beyond thrilled about that fact. We have a teacher work day tomorrow, and Monday is a holiday for MLK Jr. Day. I learned tonight that it looks like I am going to be reading a chapter or two from about six different textbooks over the course of the semester, but I believe I am going to really enjoy both classes (Elementary School Counseling and Counseling The Diverse Client). The second one is very experiential, and three of our assignments actually are to watch movies and write papers about them. Movies and writing! Two of my absolute favorite pastimes. Does anyone ever watch "The Real Housewives of Orange County"? I do. There, I said it. And now, there is a "Real Housewives of New York City." All Greek to me. On the OC one, there is one wife who is spending more on her wedding dress than our entire wedding will wind up costing. Out of my realm of comprehension. Interesting. I am going to look at a book now. And highlight some key points. Then I am going to sleep with the knowledge that I only have to be around grown-ups tomorrow! Hooray!

Wedding-Free

I have tried to really rein in the worry gene with the wedding planning. I prayed about it, and I asked God to just help me find and maintain some balance. I went to grad school tonight, and I believe it's going to be okay. I spent the weekend . . . well, you know how I spent the weekend. Last night, I blew through Hobby Lobby to make a few notes on some accessories and their availability and cost, and then I went to David's Bridal to flop the Persimmon over top of the Watermelon to make sure that one did not overpower the other. Then I sort of wanted to smack the sales girl at the store in Shreveport who balked at the color combination -- it's featured on their web site for heaven's sake. She probably doesn't have a computer. Anyway, all is well, and so what if they are bright? The wedding is the flippin' first day of spring! Bright is called for. Why, you ask, am I awake, when I usually sack out between 8:30 and 9:30? Because I thought it would be a good idea to pop in the Netflix DVD that came in the mail today -- the first season of Brothers & Sisters! That is why I hardly ever watch television anymore. And if I do, I digitally record it so I can spare myself the commercial breaks, and I can save the episodes up for a rainy day when I did not have plans anyway. That way, I do not have to feel like I am being bled dry by the television industry. It is a pretty good show. I watched all four episodes on the disc. Good thing I did not order the next one for delivery at the same time, or I'd probably go to work directly from having watched the EIGHTH episode! Instead, I just went to pee, got a chunky peanut butter fix, and now I am back in the bed. Going to sleep now. Pray for my Chris. He has an important meeting at work tomorrow. And pray for me. Because I am *****'s teacher. And it's wearing me down.

Swirling Ideas

Something that sort of sounds good right now is a swirling margarita. Ordinarily, I stick to the green ones, but mixing it up is a little intriguing in this very moment. I am so tired, however, that it would really be a wasted opportunity. I just got home from graduate school, and I think the class is going to be an enjoyable. I have discovered that an organized professor really makes for a positive experience. One can also tell quite a bit about a professor's experiences in the classroom thus far depending on how they conduct the first class meeting. If they insist on going through the syllabus line-by-line, even reading it aloud perhaps, one can deduce that their experience has been that even graduate students are a little irresponsible from time to time. It is probably also safe to assume that their basic wish is that you have an enjoyable experience and that you succeed. Thus, the extra attention to detail. So. Working full time. Going to graduate school and working on a Masters degree at night. Planning a wedding. I say this calls for skipping right over Calgon and going straight to Xanax. What say ye? Of course, almost all the information I gleaned in advance about what textbooks would be required for the class was declared virtually useless tonight. Of the two books I bought that were called "required" on the university web site, one is optional. And there are three others I have to purchase, none of which are available in the bookstore. Two of those are not available online anywhere. Delight. We shall find a way, shan't we? Okay. Wedding. Today's inquest had to do with doing a little research on projected costs of permits to have the reception on Peter Whetstone Square (I really like that name) in downtown Marshall. That's what we really want to do, and we are awaiting some news from the city and the county. If we get the green light, then begins the logistical nightmare: tent, chairs, table, tablecloth rentals; from where will we get power for sound and lights?; sound; lights. Maybe it's not such a nightmare. It's just a lot to manage. We will have great wine, thanks to the generous gift of a good friend. Fresh from Italy and Australia. In fact, it might be the only place in Texas you can sample any of the three varieties. More on this later. On the way home, as I was belting out a Lionel Richie song, it actually occurred to me the silliness of having karaoke at the wedding party. I've never even done it, can you believe that? So, doing it at my own wedding is probably not the ideal place to start. The cool thing is that most of the people I know can actually sing. So that probably would not be any fun since half the good time is probably laughing at the horrible-ness. For that, people can just tune in to that American Idol horror. What else? Do we want to do wedding favors? I really have no desire to have my name printed on napkins or bottles of bubbles or matchbooks or whatever. And I have never been keen on giving people stuff to throw at me while I try to outrun them, struggling not to slip and fall on rice or bird seed. So that's out. Does anyone know what's behind that tradition, anyway? Now, if you want to throw money at someone, I'm your girl. Sign me up! But, I doubt that will be an idea well-received. Just a thought. I think I am going to go take a bubble bath now with my good friend, Mr. Bubbles. Several months ago, shortly after the fall semester began, I was beyond stressed, and Chris came over with a gift for me: two bottles of wine and a bottle of Mr. Bubbles! I did not know which to open first! Sweet, huh? He's mine. Talk of freezing rain here in the next few days. I'm split on whether I want it or not. If we don't have it, I get a 4 day weekend in May. If we do have it, I don't. By that time, I'm sure I'll be working weekends anyway to finish paperwork, so I guess I don't care. I've got some good DVD's I'd surely like to lie in bed and watch on a cold winter's day, so . . . to be determined.

Successful Weekend

Wow. What a weekend. The only time I left my house was to go to Kroger. Other than that, the only time I was around other people was when I had to get my brother to stop by to help me to un-wedge the sofa I got stuck standing up in the hallway. I successfully maneuvered the iron bed from my guest room into my computer room, but in order to do that, first I had to remove the sofa from the computer room. No problem. The problem occurred, however, when I tried to move the sofa into the guest room (aka Launch Pad for packing, sorting, purging and packing again). So there it was, standing up diagonally in my hallway, propped up by its enormity, in between the two door facings. I sent Jason a text message asking if he could help me, and his immediate response was, "Sure." No less than two minutes later, he, Jodi, and Jeorgia were here, dressed in their Sunday best. Huh? They had been at church nearby and just swung onto my street on their way home. So, he assesses the situation, tells me it's not going into that room. When I tell him I took from the room at the END of the hall, he began to reconsider. Then he said, "Um, it would help if you removed the legs first." Oh. Yep, that would help. They are at least five inches tall, adding that much width to the sofa. I looked at Jodi and said, "Sometimes, being book smart isn't all that helpful in situations like this." Not to say that I am not both street-smart AND a person of sufficient common sense. It's just that when you are faced with a ginormous sofa crushing you to your death ten weeks before you are finally going to get married, common sense sort of takes the day off. Back to When Harry Met Sally. " . . . or maybe you're trapped under something heavy." Chris was working on a video for Winston, literally all weekend, and we did not get to see each other at all. In fact, we only talked briefly Sunday afternoon, long enough for him to say that he thought he might be getting sick and that he was going to go to bed early because he felt really exhausted from having spent so much time editing and composing and all that this weekend. I wish everyone knew how much time and energy he dedicates to those projects. They are literally all-consuming. The final product is always, always top-notch and quite professional, so of course that makes everyone think it must be something he can do with the touch of a button. But in the world of templates and all things automated, he insists on doing the work as if it were a major production. Because that's how he rolls. Like a pro. That's one of the reasons I love him. Grad school night classes start on Tuesday night, and I am not sure if that will be a blessing or a curse. I have to say that I rather enjoyed my 17-hour days this weekend. Both days, I was awake by 5:30 am (not on purpose. That's how I roll!), and I really did get quite a lot done. There are five big bags by the curb, I sent a box of fun kid stuff home with Jeorgia yesterday, and I have made a little better sense of what is left in that one room. It is not complete, but now, at least, I have a comfy sofa in there to sit on while I sort through what is left. Oh! Yesterday, in the quest, I came across a file full of old emails I had printed out when switching computers about 8-9 years ago. I found some funny stuff. Primarily attributable to Scott Morris and Cyndi Forman (or exchanges among the three of us) -- gosh, we had a blast! Back in the day. I also found deal memos from NBC detailing some of my first song placements on the TV show Providence. What a fun deal that was -- especially when they began to use one of the songs on all their season finale promo spots. Very emotional! (That song, by the way, is one of the best of all time called "Let The Sun Fall Down" by Kim Richey). Okay, back to funny emails. I found this one between me and a girl who worked at Mercury Records: Me: "Hey, there, Georgie girl. Are we will still gonna get lunch today? How pathetic is it that the cereal bowl just left my lips, and I'm craving lunch already? Pretty pathetic, let me tell you. Where do you want to go and at what time? I will pretty much eat anything, especially today, since I am at the height of PMS (more than you wanted or needed to know, I'm sure). Let me re-cap the weekend for you: Friday night: do nothing. Go for margaritas with friends. Order steak. With trimmings. Consume rapidly. Saturday: Have protein shake for breakfast (steak in a glass). Lay on bed majority of day, talking on phone and watching "Real World" re-runs (more addictive than crack cocaine). Go to grocery store. Buy chicken, beef ribs, and other unidentifiable meat product. Get excited about eating. Stop at grocery store pay phone to call friends to invite over for binge-fest. Get invited to their house instead. Pay. Decide to satisfy craving for grape slush and corn dog (with mustard) at Sonic Drive-In (not on my way home). Go to friend's house. More margaritas, but not too many. Eat pork chops (equivalent to body weight) and baked potatoes and chips of all varieties. Fall asleep. Then go home. Sunday: Wake up late. Go to church with friend. Stop for bagel and cream cheese (lite or regular? 'regular please') and a double iced mocha (also somewhat like crack cocaine). Come home. Make tacos for 12. Eat 6. Lay around. Fall asleep. Contemplate going to movies. Go to Phonoluxe instead. Spend .35 cents more than if had gone to movies. Come home. Invite friend over to watch Varsity Blues on pay-per-view. Crave pancakes (or waffles). Go to store. Buy Hungry Jack pancake/waffle mix. Friend arrives with bacon. Cook all in package and make 4 pancakes each. Drench in butter and syrup. Disgust self. (More than movie disgusts self). Eat only 1/3 of pancake supper but all of bacon. Since it had touched the warm syrup and had become delicacy item in process. Talk on phone. Lay on bed. Go to sleep. Monday: Raisin bran with 1% milk in hopes of undoing damage of weekend. Remember having lunch plans. Begin thinking about food all over again. So, where do you want to go? I'm starving!?!?!!" END OF EMAIL (1999) Maybe that is why I weighed 200 pounds when I left Nashville. Ya think?

Purge to Merge

I just learned a tragic lesson about this program. It does not autosave your words. And i sassily thought I was goign to upload an image into this entry, and in my haste, I forgot to push "save, and all was lost. Of course, I do not have the will to re-create it all in this moment. Suffice it to say that I was telling you this whole big story about going through all my stuff and trying to decide what to keep and what to give away and what to kick to the curb. To make a long story less long. Now, I want a nap. I will not get a nap. Because my bed is covered in junk. Which probably means I could save myself some time by simply choosing to chunk it all in the trash, lest I end up like that crazy lady on Oprah who had 10,000 square feet of crap in her 3,000 square foot home, and her kids quit visiting her, and she really thought that one day, she was going to use the 3,000 purses or handbags. She gives me high self-esteem.

Keeping Up With The Madness

I just added some of you to the "notifications" part of this blog so that you will be notified when there is a new blog entry. I did this because I just got in big trouble with my aunt because she has been waiting for three days for a written update here. So what did I do? I wrote two, now three! And I added her to my notifications so that she will get an email any time that I add a new one. So there. Anyhoo, if you did not get a notification about this entry in your inbox, you can send me an email, and I will add your name to the list. If you did get a notification and would rather not, please do the same, and I will remove you. It won't mean that I think you don't love me anymore. It will just mean that you are web-savvy enough to subscribe to the blog (which you can do here by clicking on "Subscribe to this blog's feed [What is this?]" or that your inbox is lunatic enough, and you do not need one more thing in it. No problem either way. Guess what? I still have not gone to clean out that closet. Or picked out my movie. Or refilled my coffee cup. Surprise.

Networking

There are people in no less than three countries right now working on helping us to put together our dream wedding. "Dream" in this case does not have anything to do with "Expensive," thank goodness, due to the generosity and kindness of many, many friends and business associates. People always marvel when I tell them stories of knowing or having met people in or from countries all over the world. And I just want to make them understand that it's not that difficult. It requires stepping outside of your comfort zone, for sure. And it requires having something interesting to talk about or at least wonder about -- but it's not that difficult. What you will discover is that we have countless things in common with people all over the world. And you also will discover that it makes life a little bit easier on you. You begin to ask questions and do some research and information and bewilderment just comes tumbling forth. My friend David called me last night to find out if he could take a brand new gas-powered generator to Eastern Europe on a mission trip to do some construction work with his church. His primary concern was getting it back onto the plane to return home because after having been there, it will have fuel residue in its system. Why call me? Because he knows I will find out. And I will find out as quickly as possible. I hung up the phone and called my sister, who is an internal consultant for a major airline. She told me he could not even take it over there new because during manufacturing, the companies run fuel through the never-used machines to confirm that they pass quality control. Not coincidentally (I don't believe in coincidence. Or luck, for that matter), she had just completed Hazardous Materials training the DAY BEFORE! So I called David back, broke the news, and I (and he, too, I'm sure) began to brainstorm other solutions. So when I woke up at 5:00 am today (involvuntarily, mind you -- it's a Saturday), it was the first thing on my mind. So I began to research alternatives. And I learned that CAT is a huge business all over Europe, and they have stores and rental facilities and manufacturers as well. So i emailed them to see what solutions they might be able to offer so that the missions team can have the power they need to run their high-energy electrical construction tools while there. I just love that stuff! Anyway, all of that to say that there are ways and means to do the things that you want to do -- you just have to be imaginative. You have to learn to think divergently. You have to learn to troubleshoot your idea BEFORE you execute it. You have to think of everything that could go wrong. I used to think this was being pessimistic or overly critical. It is absolutely not. It is being realistic and sensible. It does not make being told "no" any easier. But it makes it more understandable. Try it, you'll like it! The bottom line is: just ask. They can only tell you "no." And the might be so impressed by your boldness that they just say "yes."

Progress

There has been movement. The City of Marshall, according to the grapevine, which is currently twisting all over the United States and Southeastern China, has granted us permission to do our reception on the east side of Peter Whetstone Square in the shadow of the Historic Harrison County Courthouse. We do not know yet what will be involved with permits and rules and regulations and such, but we are hopeful that none of it will be cost-prohibitive. This part I am very excited about because that town square has been the hub of my life since I was a small child. My mom has worked for the county for forty-two years, and I figure I have been going there ALL of my life since I have been going there since I was conceived! When I was in elementary school, if I got sick, and my Aunt Bucky was not available to care for me (she was our one "city" relative), I had to go to Mom's office to sleep in the toilet on that mega-fun bright orange naugahyde settee. Which is still there, by the way. Holding up like a champ. Why? Because it is supernatural. And everlasting. Maybe I should invite it to my wedding. Or, better yet, I know! I will take a bridal portrait lounging on it, perhaps with someone standing alongside fanning me with a palm branch and feeding me grapes. I can see it now! Today, I was going to fly down to Austin to shop for little girl dresses with my cousin's wife, Dana (whom I love), but I decided to be efficient and use the day to purge more things from my life. Things that do not need to make the trip 'cross town to Chris' house. Priority one? In which room should I begin? Considerations? Where is there a TV. I never get to watch TV, so this seems like a perfect opportunity to delete things from my dish network DVR, skipping commercials, listening for interesting stories on Oprah. I even think I have some movies recorded there that I have never seen. I could, though, fall back on my favorite packing-and-moving-standbys: When Harry Met Sally or anything with Kevin Costner (pre-Waterworld). You know, like Field Of Dreams or Bull Durham or A Perfect World. Any of those allow me to devote 80% of my ever-wandering attention to the purge and only 20% to the film because I have seen it so many times. I could probably do a one-woman show of When Harry Met Sally. Except for I could not in good conscience exclude Jeff McMahon or my sister Karyn, to whom it means just as much as to me. Rambling. Please note, for your files, that I have picked a room and set up the TV, but the satellite is not working in that room for some reason. Nuisance. Chris did leave his little DVD player over here, though, so I could do the movie thing in there. You know what I need for a wedding present? That groovy United Artists Studios 110 DVD set of some of their best films, released to celebrate their 90th anniversary. Check it out! http://www.unitedartists90.com/. Seriously cool. And compact. Which is my new favorite thing. I will go in there, in a minute, and open the drawer of that filing cabinet that has been closed since I moved into this house, with a few notable exceptions (one when I was looking for a box of checks, which, in the age of the electronic funds transfer lasts me 3 years; and another when I was trying to find one particular funny greeting card someone gave me, circa 1997. Yes, I keep your cards). And I wll begin reminiscing and wondering what ever happened to so-and-so. Thankfully, there will not be too much of that because I have kept up with most of you pretty well. Because I like you. Then, I will refill my coffee cup and go back to that room and sit on the bed again, restart the movie and begin to sort through the boxes in that closet. And I will be forced to make some decisions. Keep that unopened box of really cute notecards or donate it to someone who might make use of it and not just preserve it in its original packaging. And which will make me feel better? Hoarding it for myself? Or sharing it with someone else who might not have taken the time and energy to seek it out in the first place? Today, I feel generous. I don't want to take all my "stuff" with me. I want this to be like the time I left Nashville, in October 2001. When I took with me all that would fit in a 1997 Honda Civic and a few UPS boxes. No boats. No lights. No motor cars. Well, except for the 1997 Honda Civic, of course. I must get to it. First, I have to choose the film-track. Then refill the coffee cup. Then take the box of Hefty Cinch-Sacks. And it will begin. My new life.

Wedding "Industry"

Chris is right. At the first mention of a "wedding," the price goes up 200%. When it's just a "party," there is room to negotiate. We are currently trying to decide if we want to do the reception in a separate site other than the church. There are legitimate concerns that we might actually be blessed with a warm, Spring day on the first day of Spring when the full moon should be rising, and we will be stuck inside. So, I am researching tent, tables, and chairs rental, which shoots the price of doing things up but will ultimately be a much groovier party. My practical side, the one that tends to rule when I am "project manager," shrinks back in horror. But my creative, romantic side is all aflutter. Chris figured out that we can get it done if only we can find a way to save $18.75 each day between us until the date of the wedding. Clever, huh? Yesterday, he gave up drinking his usual several Diet Dr. Peppers and figures he's saved $6 already. I asked him what was I to do when I was already skating dangerously close to very little in my bank account this month, and he said, "That's when you ask me to save for your part, too!" Sweet, huh? I am very blessed that he thinks that way and that having a great wedding and a great party is just as important to him as it is to me. Blessed indeed. I am finding it difficult to concentrate on much these days -- I could use another week of vacation. Julie made me smile yesterday when she pointed out that there are a series of four-day-weeks coming up. Perhaps those will substitute nicely for an extra week of vacation. I have to decide if I am going to take some days off after the wedding. I bet it would be the sensible thing to do. It would give me time to move out of my house correctly and to really make sure I do it right. And that I move INTO Chris' house in a nice, orderly fashion. Garbage in, garbage out. I must take only the bare minimum with me. I have no idea what it will be like to merge households and lives. Well, I have some idea, but everyone says it is quite an adjustment. I am so not looking forward to the mega-commute between Dallas and Mesquite. But I love my job and the people for whom and with whom I work, and I figure it's worth the drive to spend the bulk of my waking hours with people I enjoy. I believe that even if you live next door to your job but dislike going, it is not worth the gas you save. So, back to the wedding "industry." It's ridiculous. I know what all these things cost to make in China, and the markup here is just criminal. I'm not saying that I believe that every factory in which these things are made is filled with people who are earning what they deserve, but good grief! If a shop can afford to "discount" a dress from $3500 to $990, the markup has got to be completely out of hand. (And no, I would not consider paying even a fraction of either of those figures for something I would wear one time -- unless Oprah was paying for it, of course!). It's 6:41, and I should officially be in the shower, but the coffee is still hot, and it's winter again outside, so the world will just have to wait for me. And forgive that my hair will not be all that organized today when i get to work. I think I should be allowed to wear blue jeans on any day that starts out at less than 40 degrees Fahrenheit. Now it is 6:49, and I REALLY should be in the shower. But I've used my time wisely. I know exactly what I am going to wear today, and I know where all the components of that outfit are. Except for warm socks. Or socks, period. They seem to have all disappeared into the ether. Another of life's great mysteries.

Things You Need To Know About The Proposal

Some people have been asking about all the phases of the proposal, so I thought I would provide a "guide" here in the blog so you know what was going on in all those gifts Chris gave me. So, here we go. 1st gift was a black bag of COAL. "For all the Christmases before this one that I was hiding" from Chris. That's why I deserved coal. 2nd gift was a female artist's mannequin to match the male one he gave me last year for Christmas right after we met. 3rd gift was 2 children artists's mannequins to match the woman and the man. 4th gift was a set of tins (peace, hope and joy) that contained various gift cards, moist towelettes from Friday's (like the kind you get when you eat messy ribs), 20 cool colored markers, and an AMC theater gift card. 5th gift was a package of calligraphy pens and a handmade card that said, "If I were to get you a diamond ring, would you marry me the first day of spring?" Check "Yes" or "No" 6th gift was a framed photo of one of his students who had used Photoshop to dress himself up as a coal miner. Inside this gift, there was a card with another handmade card with this web site address on it and the explanation of some symbols. Chris had given me a jeweler's loupe for my birthday a few weeks before that he had told me to carry with me everywhere in case we decided to go look at nice jewelry. I forgot it. So he gave me his and told me to start looking at the coal. So, piece by piece, I began to examine the coal with the loupe, and I finally found a piece that was slightly discolored. And I bammed it on the table. Then he took it from me, pried it open and took out my engagement ring, which he had partially designed himself and had made by a jeweler in Dallas. It's a beauty! He had asked the art/wood shop teacher at his school to hand make the coal pieces. The teacher, David, cut some wood, filed it down to make it look like real coal, then used a router and a lathe to hollow out one piece and cut it so that the two pieces would fit together like a ring box. And inside was . . . you just have to watch the movie to find out! It was absolutely amazing and so romantic. And we were with my family, which was one of the best parts! He filmed the entire thing, and you can view it on the main web site page by clicking on "Original page with videos." If you have a Mac, you have to have a little add-on program called "Flip4Mac" to view it because it's a Windows Media file. I believe you can download that for free at www.apple.com. It takes a while to download, but it's pretty fun! Happy New Year.

Lift-off!

Today, I got myself a beautiful new wedding dress! I'd tell you all about it, but then I could not surprise Chris with it! Suffice to say that I made a heckuva deal (in true Christi Wright fashion), I absolutely LOVE it, and I might just wear it to both the wedding AND the Dallas party! More later. We are about to take engagement portraits! Right here in Chris' living room. Ahhhh. We are truly one-stop-shopping!

Wigging Out

I'm not really wigging out, but yesterday, mid-day, when I was about to set out on the search for a wedding dress alone, I got out to my car, thought, "No freakin' way," and went back inside to grab my toiletries, two shirts and a pair of wrinkled jeans from a forgotten clothes basket, threw them in a bag and drove to Marshall. I needed to be somewhere of comfort. The cool thing was that I got here just in time to help m Mom write a press release announcing that she is withdrawing her name from the 2008 election ballot, and at the end of 2008, she is going to resign as Tax Assessor Collector of Harrison County. Then I went with her to the Democratic Party Chairman's office to make the announcement. It was pretty cool! She's worked for the county for 42 years! I was in her belly when she was working there back in the sixties. That's pretty cool, huh? Anyway, she seems really relieved and at peace with her decision, and that's the secret of life! Today, she went to work early to get some important stuff done, and later, we are going on the road to girlihood to look for wedding dresses, do some local gift registry stuff and just see what happens. I am in a local coffee shop having a mocha and being connected to the world at large via the World Wide Web. It's 23 degrees here, and it feels like about 2. Gonna go now. Stay tuned.

Decision making

Is officially not my strong suit. More and more, I understand the concept that I use with children which is called "controlled choice." I give them two choices, both of which are perfectly fine with me, they choose one (which makes them feel like they are in control), and we are all happy. Looking at 1,000 wedding gowns, 250 cake designs, 15 wedding locations, and zero invitation designs is totally blowing my mind. Which is why I am lying on my bed, in my pajamas, surrounded by pages ripped out of magazines, my breakfast dish (which, incidentially was a delightful chicken dish from Carraba's left over from New Year's Eve), my cell phone, my camera, and some dirty socks. My feet got hot. I am compiling a list of pleasant places you might consider staying if you want to spend the night or hang out in East Texas/Western Louisiana for a few days. It will be posted shortly on the web site. I think I might need to drive to Marshall AGAIN this week before school gets going again. That just sounds awful to me. I wish someone would come and pick me up and take me there. I could take the train, but then I would not have wheels once I got there. Un-fun.

Dream and Reality

I think it's important to share with you both sides of this adventure. Hope that is okay! I just got home from the movies because I thought that a dark theater might be a safe haven from all of the million thoughts that I have about all the things I need to be deciding in planning our wedding. It was a good idea. Of course, the first song in the film was sung by a guy who was going on and on about how much he wanted this girl to be his bride, so I found myself all wrapped up in that for the moment. In fact, I jotted it down, and you just might hear it during our ceremony! It was a wacky one, which, I am sure, is why I liked it. I will have to live with it before making any final cut. Back to the topic at hand. Last night, I was searching for things on the Internet, and I was not finding what I was searching for, and all of a sudden, I realized that I am really getting married. Duh, right? No, seriously, I was just hit with this rush of "wow." I woke up fairly early today, considering I had no reason to, and I started getting all overwhelmed again. So I made coffee. And ate Shredded Wheat. And took some ADHD medication. Good combination. I felt a little better. Then I started freaking out. Nothing visible, you see, but I caught my sister online, and I shared that with her. That went on for a while, and I began to feel better, simply for having someone to communicate with about the stuff. Then, on my sister's advice (she's the maid of honor -- MOH), I looked on www.theknot.com to enter my wedding date so their brilliant wedding planning software could generate a list of things for me to check off given that specific time frame. Guess what? On the list it generated for little ol' me, there were gargantuan purple exclamation points to the left of each check box. Why? Because apparently the decisions I am working on making are generally made TWELVE MONTHS IN ADVANCE! Frankly, I do not know why anyone would PLAN to occupy twelve months of their lives with making a plan for anything, certainly not something they were very excited about starting in the first place, like a marriage. I rather enjoy the last-minute rush, hence the March wedding date! When I woke up this morning and wanted to go look at wedding dresses, I realized that I have not had time or made time to make enough soul-sister-girlfriends since moving here 2.5 years ago. I kind of hit the ground running. And everyone is so buy when they get all grown up. I realized how blessed I have been to have made the friends (male and female) that I have made over the course of my lifetime thus far. Chris and I had lunch with a long-time friend today, Jeff McMahon, who is like a brother to me and who I have known since 1989 (yipes). Crazy. It was fun to finally introduce them to each other. Back to wedding dresses. So, I spent the early morning hours sifting through pictures and ideas and printed some photos and style information to take with me to this boutique in Dallas. I checked their web site for business hours, was thrilled to find that they opened at 9:30 am on Sundays, and I packed the car and headed over there, ready to walk in armed and dangerous with my first five selections, ready to avert the hard-sell. Closed. The sign on the door said to pull the door hard. Still closed. And my dress was IN THE WINDOW. I swear. It looks exactly like what I am thinking of wearing. Beyond the glass. I shall try again tomorrow. And it better still be there! After that mishap, all I could think to do was go to the movies. Perfect escape. So I went down the road to the theater, and the only movie available at that hour was going to last 2 hours and 15 minutes, which would have dug into the time I was going to meet Chris and Jeff. Abort. Then I went to Starbuck's with one of my four gift cards, plugged in the laptop, ratcheted up some Dvorak in iTunes and began crossing things off the list. Karyn was right. It did make me feel better. Of course, what I was crossing off were not things I have already accomplished. They were simply things I am not even going to attempt! Nevertheless, they are marked off, and for a girl like me, that says "success!" I am fairly certain I have decided on some colors. And I am 100% certain that I made up new names for each of them: pomegranate, melon and tangerine. A fruity, springy wedding. Sounds fresh, doesn't it? I think ordinarily, I might have chosen something more muted, mature, demure. But heck, it's going to be the first day of spring, and I think we should be festive. Tropical. Tangy. Slushy. Hmmm. Can you serve slushies at your wedding? Perhaps we shall.

"Don't Let The Wedding Ruin The Romance"

Once said a wise man. Named Chris. We talked about this concept shortly after getting engaged. I had told him that I have a tendency to spin out of balance at times (as if he hadn't noticed), and I requested that he feel free to offer me reality checks from time to time during this planning process. I will, after all, be working a full-time teaching job, attending graduate school classes two nights a week in Dallas, and planning a wedding for the first (and only) time in my life. That has "anti-anxiety" medication written all over it. But I do not want to get to that point. I told him last night, in fact, that I thought we should designate a specified amount of time when we are together to discussing wedding plans/details so that it does not become the all-consuming topic of our lives until March 20th has come and gone. He thought that might be a good idea. We went to hear/see the Trans Siberian Orchestra last night at the American Airlines Center, and while we were waiting for the show to begin, I said, "Okay. I need 10 minutes of wedding conversation." He laughed and granted me the time. So far, we are doing well. After the show, we tried to go visit the "Wall of Cheese" at Central Market. We like to go there every couple of months and pick out some heretofore-untasted cheeses from around the world, a new bottle of wine, some prosciutto, nice olives, and some bread or crackers to have a gourmet picnic. Central Market, however, was closed down, and we were forced across the street to the Tom Thumb. They had a "kiosk island" of cheese that was pretty much underwhelming, but their wine selection was better than average. So, we had some brie, mozzarella cheese sticks, prosciutto, Shiraz and dark chocolate to finish it off. And we headed back to Chris' house to view the work he had done all day yesterday on our web site. He had discovered some blogging tools that he could embed in the website, so he wanted me to choose which one I liked best. Clearly, "Movable Type" has won my favor. I am going to try and write here at least weekly until the wedding; however, I figure it will be my primary narrative therapy, so you might check in more than weekly to see what's shakin'. I need to tell this funny story of our second trip to Marshall this past week. I went alone on Saturday December 22nd, and Chris came down on Christmas Eve. Every time we go to Marshall together, he always likes to stop in Wills Point at the Robertson's because they have the best beef jerky, AND they sell it by the pound. So, he had stopped there on his way Christmas Eve but had consumed the entire stock. So, when we were going back together on December 26th, he needed another fix. I needed fuel and a ham sandwich, so we pulled off I-20 at Exit #516. Which has now become a hilarious engagement memory. The sweet ladies behind the counter were the first strangers with whom I had come in contact since Chris proposed, and while I was paying for the gas (which I pumped on an old-fashioned analog pump which only calculates your total in 1/2 gallons -- to this quirk I attribute the fact that I overran the tank and dumped probably a half-gallon of gas on the ground!), I blurted out, "We're getting married!" The women all smiled and said, "Well, congratulations, let's see your ring!" Anyhow, then we began to talk about the world's coolest proposal, and they were all "ooh" and "aah," and this tall, older gentleman behind the counter says in a big, gruff voice, "It's fellas like YOU that make it real hard on the rest of us!" How funny is that? He was Papaw. Thank goodness for Papaw, though, because traffic was at a standstill on I-20 East, and he helped us to navigate the way-back roads to get back on I-20 past the horrible vehicle accident that was holding things up. And we think we saw his house back there. How do we know. 'Cause it said "Mamaw & Papaw's" right there in front! I love it. I miss life in the country sometimes.

Goin' To The Chapel

And we're gonna get ma-a-a-rried. How many times did I sit and listen to that song on my Dad's Bette Midler albums when I was a little girl? So very many. More than either he or I would like to recall. Not to mention that I have now officially shared with the world that my Dad even HAD Bette Midler albums. Well, now that that is out there, I should go ahead and tell you that he decorates cakes AND he cries at a good chick flick. But he's not gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that (thank you, Seinfeld). Back to the topic at hand. I'm getting married. To Chris. On March 20, 2008. A Thursday. I don't care if you think it's weird. It's the first day of spring. And we are going to have a big time. I'm glad you are going to be able to be there. Wherever "there" is, that is. Seriously. Less than three months from now, and I have made absolutely zero decisions. Well, except for who the groom shall be and where we shall say our vows. Past that, according to the plans at hand, I will be naked at the altar, with no attendants, and there will be no food or chairs to sit in to eat it. Sounds fun, huh? I have just driven Chris over the proverbial edge with my web site edit suggestions.

The Big Four Oh

Well, it happened. I turned forty. And nothing stopped working. Nothing fell off. I was not consumed by the earth. On the contrary, it was a pretty great experience. It was a work day (Friday), so I did that. Then we had our school holiday party afterward. Later that night, Chris took me to dinner at Carraba's in Rockwall (and gave me some super fun gifts). On Saturday, my brother had invited us over for beer and burgers, so we went there. And you know what? All those people (plus a few others -- Doug and Melissa had to leave early) you see in that picture up there had shown up to surprise me! How incredible is that? That during the busiest, most stressful time of the year for many, these people whom I love and care for so much made time in their busy schedules to drive (and fly) to little ol' Mesquite, Texas, to tell me "happy birthday" in person! Let me tell you who they are and from whence they came: top row (L to R) is: my Uncle Sid (140 miles), my Dad (140 miles), my brother Jason (we're at his house), his father-in-law George (Mesquite), my boyfriend-in-law George (600 miles from Nashville, TN), Heather's boyfriend Doug (Dallas), me, and Chris. bottom row (L to R) is: Teresa (140 miles), Jeorgia (her own planet), my aunt Tommie (140 miles), my sister-in-law Jodi (her house), my niece Chelsey (Mesquite), my sister Karyn (600 miles from Nashville, TN), my cousin Heather (Keller, TX), and my mom Betty (140 miles). Chris' brother Doug and sister-in-law Melissa were also there and drove an hour from Colleyville on a night where they were scheduled to be in three different places for three separate events. Okay, I just calculated, and it appears that (with a small margin of error) people traveled approximately 4,160 total miles to celebrate my birthday with me! How awesome is THAT? Anyway, apparently, my little brother orchestrated all of that, and it was so fun! They brought me cards and fun presents, and we ate food and talked and laughed (well, mainly we laughed at Jeorgia, but she's worth it)! I was thinking on Friday, when my bilingual co-workers were throwing me their own little fiesta, that I am truly one of the most blessed people I know. I have chosen to surround myself with great people who have passion and character and love overflowing. The new third grade bilingual teacher at my school gave me a card in which he wrote, "Thank you, Christi, for giving me a good example of living a life with meaning." I tell you, the whole day could have stopped right there. If there is anything that I would hope to have shared with the world before it's my time to go, that would certainly be near the top of the list. My life has meaning not because of anything I've done or read. It has meaning because of the choices I have made and continue making. Sometimes, they are helpful, sometimes they are not. I have chosen to place my faith in Christ alone for eternal life, and my meaning and my being flows from there. I cannot say I always "represent" all that well, but thankfully, mine is a God of grace, and I do try to choose well! Anyway, back to being 40. I love it. I walked around all day saying, "I'm in my forties now, so . . . " and then would fill in the blank with whatever the heck I wanted to do! I have to say that I like saying "I'm in my forties" a heck of a lot more than "I'm going to be 40 this year" which I began saying at approximately 12:01 am January 1, 2007! I told Chris last night that rather than feeling sad or with a sense of dread, what I have felt all weekend has been a sense of contentment. I've been pretty emotional, but in a positive way. When I have allowed myself to sit still and really reflect, I am rendered completely breathless by the knowledge that every one of the friends and family who wished me well on that big day is a real-life example of love and kindness. Thank you for making a big day a beautiful day. Happy holidays to you all!

My Wish List 2008

To recap the 2007 list, here are the results: 1. World Market Gift Card -- did not get. Totally fine with that. 2. Borders Bookstore Gift Card -- my (now) boyfriend gave me one on our first date. 3. iTunes Gift Certificate -- meh 4. An Easel and some acrylics -- have not had time to paint, so no biggie I did not get! 5. A great boyfriend (please do NOT purchase this one!) -- see #2 above :-) 6. TJ Maxx Gift Certificate -- Dad & Teresa gave me this one! 7. A meaningful James Avery Charm - Silver -- aforementioned from #2 gave me one! 8. Guitar lessons. It's just silly that I'm not an expert at this skill as much as i Love it. -- have not received OR made time for these. 9. An external hard drive for my computer(s). I got a cool new MacBook that has fun movie/photo/music programs on it, and I have a feeling I am going to need extra storage! -- got this for myself! 10. A renewal for my mac.com membership so I can keep that cool web site up and running! -- will probably cancel in 2008 because I made my own web site (little by little) Now,for 2008: 1. Money 2. Borders Gift Certificate 3. A tranquil vacation 4. Land 5. Home Depot or Lowe's gift certificate It appears that now, I have more of what I want in life. I hope you do, too!

Meh

This is the word (non-word) my boyfriend always responds with when he is either still considering what his actual response will be or when he just does not want to deal with a response at the moment. He learned it from his cat, Phoenix.

Musings

Where have I been? I wish I had taken the time to chronicle it all along the way. I have been enjoying summer with my wonderful boyfriend. I have been starting the most trying school year of my life (with one notable exception which was so all-around-bizarre that I have chosen not to take it into account), and I have been slogging through a difficult semester in graduate school. All at once. I used to pride myself on being a very adaptable person. And relative to many, I suppose I am. But what I have learned about myself this year is that change takes its toll on me. Perhaps it always has, and I have never been as chameleonesque as I had believed, but NOW, I have achieved awareness of it. And frankly, I think I prefer ignorance. Oh! Or perhaps it is that as I have grown up, I have become more of a creature of habit, or better said, comfort. By that, I mean that maybe I know myself better now, and with that greater self-knowledge, I make more suitable choices, enjoy them, and I feel out of sorts when change occurs. I like that interpretation. It's far more like the me I thought I knew than considering that perhaps I was just getting "set in my ways" or, God forbid, in a rut. I am taking a class this semester from a wise old sage of a professor who continually makes the statement, "Life is an empathy test." You know what? He is absolutely right. I think of it all the time. He also used some magical words one night in class that completely shifted my world: "You are not the only one, and you are not to blame." I heard those words in the midst of what had been one of the most trying situations I've ever endured with a five-year-old student. Five weeks into the school year as I was going home (or to graduate school) right on time, exhausted from having spent the entire day trying to keep him from hurting himself or someone else, trying to ensure that at least one person was learning in spite of him and/or trying to figure out what caused his spontaneous outbursts, I learned that I was not the only one and that I was NOT to blame. On one glorious Friday, I received a 161 page therapy report detailing TWO years of private therapy to try and identify and modify all the same behaviors I was noticing in my class. You mean, I'm not a complete failure as a teacher? I did not get a $50,000 college education simply to be reduced to functioning essentially as an animal trainer? What a relief! If only I could have read those words and felt that reassurance a month earlier, perhaps I would not have called my doctor seeking some kind of pharmaceutical therapy. Clearly, God knew the report was on its way, because my doctor, usually very prompt, has yet to return my phone call! For that, I am grateful. I have been taking a Masters level statistics class. For whatever it's worth, I've learned that it bears the distinction of being my first "B" in grad school, but when I consider that it very well might have been my first "C" which would have required taking it again, for that, too, I am grateful. And the professor has assured me that not one single person will ever ask me what grade I made in his statistics course. Then I felt sorry for him. Bad enough that he had to stand up there for three hours every week in front of a classroom full of future social scientists and try to make us as excited as he was about mean, median and mode . . . but to know that no one will ever ask or care what grade we made in his class. I just don't think I could get out of bed for that every morning. Life is starting to shift onto a more even keel these days. I cannot believe Thanksgiving is next week -- it used to feel like such a milestone, and now it just feels like another holiday that has crept up too soon. I think that starting school two weeks later than usual really did a number on me. Back to my adaptability deficit, I guess. Anyway, perhaps it's a lesson I must learn about myself to help me to better understand others. I have always been the "call at the last minute to go to the movies" friend. Now, I think I know how frustrating that must have been for my friends. I have also figured out that the more structure I have, the better I function. It's something I wish I would have known about myself a long time ago, because I feel like I might have been much more productive. Don't worry -- I am not forsaking my capricious nature altogether. I've still got it. It just seems that I have to put it on hold from time to time in order to honorably fulfill some of the life-roles I have chosen for myself: friend, girlfriend, student, teacher. And for some of the life roles which have chosen me: sister, daughter, aunt. It feels good to write again. I love it so much that I question why I leave it behind sometimes. When I know that I can pick up a pen or a computer and spill out whatever words are swimming around on my tongue, whether on the tip or at the back, and life will immediately be better. Perhaps that is what I should vow to myself. Perhaps.

My Dream Couch

Ahhhh. Covetousness. I am experiencing it. Every time I go into Macy's, I sit on this couch. I want it. I must have it. I feel strongly about it. It exemplifies everything I love. Lounging in comfort. Brightness. Easy-to-clean-ness. Conversation. Relationship. Community. Yes, this couch is all that. And more. I think that when I get married, I am going to register for this couch. And just see what happens. Click on "My Dream Couch" above. You'll fall in love, too.

My World

Is good. No, it's great. I am having a lovely summer -- a little travel, to different places, in new ways, with new people. I am America-bound and have no international travel opps on the horizon. And you know what? I'm okay with that. I think it's a sign of a new contentment in me. Perhaps a new perspective that the grass up under my own two feet is as green as it gets. I have learned so much about myself in the past year or so. I have figured out an awful lot about what motivates me, what drives me. I have learned that I cannot function optimally without some powerful, upward, edifying spiritual activity in my life. Stagnation comes quickly, and it becomes all-consuming. But the good news is that the pot is easy to stir up, and whatever it is in me that God moves is bubbling very gently just below the surface if I get too far out of fellowship. I have a new thought on contentment. Sometimes, it frightens us. It makes us question and wonder. Is it real? Why have I avoided it for all these years? Am I my own worst enemy? Why must I always look for something that's not quite right? Do I not believe I deserve this contentment? Is that why I question my way right out of it back into that all-too-comfortable quagmire of discontent? Where did I learn that I did not have a right to be at peace? Did someone, somewhere, teach me that I could not be at my creative best if I was a happy person, surrounded by supportive people? Did I fall to that myth? Did I let it become my truth? It's not like it's easier or more fun to be in a constant state of unease, querying, doubting. Absolutely not. It's like a cancer . . . it eats away at my self-confidence . . . it gnaws at my belief in the usefulness of my gifts and abilities . . . it sends me into a state of reclusiveness . . . why? It convinces me that rebelling against the norm makes me better or stronger or more likely to succeed. But does it? Or does it just catapult me back into another quicksand of questioning? Some time ago, I wrote that I was entering a phase of my life where I wanted fewer question marks and more exclamation points. And I got them! Does that make me apathetic? Inert? Sheeplike? No. It makes me assertive. And in charge. Of my own choices, both good and bad for me. And it makes me responsible. For my own life. And the results those choices yield for me. I am important to me, and I know that I am important to my friends and family who love me. They tell me so. Sometimes, they don't, actually, but they show me so. And that is how they love me. They affirm me. And they support me. And encourage me. And remind me that I love them, too, in the process. Thank you, friends and family, for reading this, because even if you never tell me that you did, I will benefit someday from the beauty of who you are.

Timing

In the past several years, more than all the previous years combined, I have heard people talk about God's perfect timing. At first, it sort of made me want to roll my eyes, but I decided that I would work to shed a little of the cynicism with which I had clothed myself for most of my life and just be quiet and pay attention. Little by little, I began to see what they were talking about. Little things. Big things. Life-changing things. And all of a sudden, I felt really small. But, surprisingly, not insignificant. I felt like a small cog in a very universal and complex mechanism. And I knew that if I was not doing my part, not paying attention, not remaining open to the truth that I was not only important in the process and functioning of the universe, but altogether essential . . . my inaction and apathy could cause the whole thing to spin out of control. Again, much to my surprise, I did not feel pressure, but rather, I felt a real sense of honor and importance. I understood for the first time my uniqueness, my contribution, and its essence. That is not to say that I always know exactly what to do, who to talk to, or where to go. But it is to say that I no longer make quite so many choices based simply on what feels good in the moment, how I will directly benefit, or how much my pride gets stroked. I have to say that the whole epiphany yielded a sense of great relief. An understanding that I did not have to win every time, shine brighter than everyone else, or have the right answer. And you know what? When I decided to shut up and listen and observe, yield to others and confess my lack of understanding . . . guess what happened? I felt more like a winner, a student, and someone with an inner glow rather than an outer blinding light. I like me better this way. There have been many areas of my life in which I have seen the value of trusting God's timing rather than my own inconsistent-condensation-under-the-crystal, run-down-battery version. I started graduate school at exactly the right time. I began my wonderful dating relationship at exactly the right time. I earned time to be a little bit lazy just when I needed to learn to be still. And I woke up in the middle of the night tonight just in time to write this journal entry. Maybe you just woke up too, and you needed something to read. I don't know. I was thinking today about how great it would be if everyone on earth was genuinely empathetic. Then I wondered if an individual can show him or herself empathy. Is that what people mean when they tell someone to be kind to themselves? To grant themselves a little grace? I don't know about you, but it's always been much easier for me to empathize with someone else than with myself. What makes that happen? I'm sure my studies will lead me to the answer since I already feel like I'm developing some hypotheses on the subject. What brought about that line of thinking today was the age-old mystery of pre-menstrual syndrome and its termite-like effects on a woman's ability to see all that she KNOWS is great about herself. And how it feels near futile to help anyone but another woman really understand the uniqueness of it all. I mean, have any of you women reading this ever experienced some PMS moment where someone says something to you, and even though you know in your heart that they did not mean for the result to be devastating to your self-worth, you have to take a long while to convince yourself of that? Isn't it ridiculous that you can leave your house, 100% satisfied, even proud, of everything about you, and one person can notice one flaw, and you all of a sudden can no longer access even the fond memory of all that you loved about yourself a short twenty minutes ago? It's just stupid. Can I get a witness? Enough of that. I know it's fairly universal, but I guess I wonder about it more at some times than others. Back to timing. The clock indicates that I should have been sleeping for at least four hours by now, and I have defied it. I must make another effort. I have lots of adventure coming my way in the next week.

Eat, Pray, Love

Since March, which, according to the date of my last entry here, I have been doing other things. Things other than what, you ask? Things other than writing and reading for pleasure. I have been traversing the path through graduate school. I have been teaching bilingual kindergarten. I have been being in love. I have been learning anew through all of these amazing experiences. All exclusive of writing and reading for pleasure. But I think it was a necessary break. Why? Because it made me realize how much a part of me both of those activities are. And how important it is to my creative soul that I learn to keep them integrated into my life, even at its busiest. My friend Helena came to visit me earlier this year, and we squeezed all we could into her 1 day visit. And as usual, we talked about books. She was part of the Nashville book club, whose sense of community and sisterhood I still long for six years later. That group of women, eclectic by design, was a beautiful cross-section of all that makes life grand. They were (and most likely still are) beautiful, intelligent, sensual, humorous, introspective, provocative and had a sense of social interest. We made democratic decisions about the books we chose to read, and we shared openly our thoughts and opinions upon having finished (or at least having attempted to finish) each one. Reading those books on a loose deadline did not feel like work. It felt like taking one's own path toward a common destination. And of course, at the end of the journey, there was food. And usually wine. And lots of conversation. What, on planet earth, could be a better way to spend one evening each month? I digress. Back to the book at hand. Helena brought with her to my house a book she was beginning to read by Elizabeth Gilbert called Eat, Pray, Love. I looked it over, thought, "Wish I had time to read this one..." and returned it to her. A few weeks ago, with my first semester of graduate school and its final exams behind me, I stopped in at Borders to shop. And this book was the one that caught my eye. I snapped it off the shelf and went to the checkout. I was on my way to help my boyfriend, Chris, at his school's baccalaureate service, but I expected a little down time between preparation and execution of the duties. Within the first five pages, I had already laughed out loud three times. A good sign. And I thanked God that the first book I had picked up to read for pleasure in over six months appeared to be one that would deliver what I needed: pleasure. So, as with all things, any activity, art, creative venture that seamlessly incorporates several of my favorite activities -- eating, praying and loving, in this case -- begins with an unfair advantage. Favorite films? Like Water For Chocolate, Babette's Feast, Spanglish, Mostly Martha, Chocolat. Honestly, how can you go wrong mixing food and love? They are both driven by passion. And this book folds in faith, which when at its mutually beneficial and ideal best, is the hub of all other passions in life. I am loving it. I woke up at 3:41 a.m. this morning. I am certain that it was not because I had logged enough hours of sleep (I read until about 11:30 p.m. last night); but I wonder if it might have something to do with wanting to continue reading about Ms. Gilbert's journey through Italy in 2003? It's 6:37 a.m., now, and I have had some shredded wheat with strawberries and some Costa Rican coffee. And I am on page 106. "It is better to live your own destiny imperfectly than to live an imitation of somebody else's life with perfection." (from The Bhagavad Gita) That is a strong statement, don't you agree? How many of us have slogged through phases in our lives, preparing or studying to reach someone else's goal for our lives? Or have pushed down our own hopes and dreams to fulfill those of another person? I have done this to some degree. Luckily, I have caught myself pretty quickly before the quicksand of a dream unfulfilled pulled me under completely. Right now, I am happy to say, I am doing exactly what I want while diligently preparing to fulfill another destiny that I want with all my being. There are a few pages in this book (103-105) that make reference to one Italian man's theory that "every city has a single word that defines it, that identifies most people who live there. If you could read people's thoughts as they were passing you on the streets of any given place, you would discover that most of them are thinking the same thought. Whatever the majority thought might be -- that is the word of the city. And if your personal word does not match the word of the city, then you don't really belong there." Then he lets Liz know that Rome's word is SEX. This sets the author to thinking about her hometown of New York City's word: ACHIEVE. The word for Los Angeles: SUCCEED. So of course, this provokes me to think about MY word. I have rattled through several. It used to be CAPRICIOUS (I came up with that one playing an icebreaker game at First Baptist Church in Waco, Texas, 1986). It's not so much that anymore, although capriciousness still definitely is part of my personality's tapestry. FAITH? Maybe. Because faith is certainly the foundation of who and what I am. But is it constant and unwavering? I would like to think so, but I would never worry or feel anxiety or have wrenching muscle pain in my neck and shoulders if I did not have chinks in that armour, now would I? AMBITIOUS? Mmmmm. It's only one aspect. GRACIOUS? I wish that defined me all the time. DOMESTIC GODDESS. Apocalypse now. Heavens, no. EMPATHETIC? Getting warmer. COMPASSIONATE? Warmer still. KIND. Maybe that's what I would LIKE it to be. Excavating this word will take more time and thought. The past week has been one of great growth. Of great discovery. Of deep revelation of thoughts and feelings and values. And of celebrating the ability and willingness to communicate. The train is going by. I love it. I think I must always be near the train. Not this train in particular. Just some train. I could always hear one from my house in Nashville. I cannot remember if there was one nearby in Waco. But I probably had not learned to be attentive to such things at that young age, either. In the book, Liz's sister Catherine comes to visit, and she describes her this way: "She arrives in Rome, prepared as ever. She brings five guidebooks, all of which she has read already, and she has the city pre-mapped in her head. She was completely oriented before she even left Philadelphia. And this is a classic example of the differences between us. I am the one who spent my first weeks in Rome wandering about, 90 percent lost and 100 percent happy, seeing everything around me as an unexplainable beautiful mystery. But this is how the world kind of always looks to me. To my sister's eyes, there is nothing which cannot be explained if one has access to a proper reference library. This is a woman who keeps THE COLUMBIA ENCYCLOPEDIA in her kitchen next to the cookbooks -- and reads it, for pleasure . . . So my sister comes to visit me in Rome -- in my new city -- and then shows it to me. This is Rome, Catherine-style. Full of facts and dates and architecture that I do not see because my mind does not work in that way. The only thing I ever want to know about any place or any person is the STORY, this is the only thing I watch for -- never for aesthetic details." Interesting. I am much more like Liz than Catherine. I do generally have an idea, when travelling, where I want to go on particular day or what I want to see -- but in retrospect, I think that is primarily due to that fact the I always knew I had some level of ADHD (the lack of focus, inattentive version), and if I did not make at least a skeletal plan, my trip would be over, and I would not have seen or done one thing that I had intended. I love the lack of an agenda, though, and a day with no plans. And a day with no companion, from time to time. I think it sounds like an amazing adventure to go to a beautiful place with someone, spend a day separately, meeting locals, taking photographs, writing stories and then to reconvene to lay on the loom each person's unique perspective to weave it all together. I am taking a trip to Colorado this summer with Chris and his family -- maybe we can make a day like that while we are there.

New

I just ate Wheaties from a wine glass.

Publishing A Memoir

I wonder if I will ever stop thinking that someone, someday, will want to read my life story? I hope not. Because that would be some kind of permission to stop recording it. Maybe I am just writing all this stuff to make sure, one day, that I remember my life! If I am to become anything like my father in the memory department, I am wise with this kind of forethought. Maybe if understanding the importance of sharing your life stories with your children has not become important to you by the time you are 50, it never will.

Cabin, Indeed!

This, as I pretty much expected, is a full-blown home. Complete with laundry room and waterfront deck. I think there is part of some river zipping through the front/back yard. Sleep was pretty much lovely last night. I woke a few times, but I think it was more toward the time my body thought I was going to be late for work! Ha! Tricked it. Not only am I not going to work -- I do not even have access to work from here! I am really going to relax while here because there will be virtually no chance for anything of the sort when I return to Mesquite. I got up and made coffee, scrambled eggs with cheese, soy sausage and just had some shredded wheat 'n' bran with fresh strawberries. De-lish. I told Chris this was going to be our "launch" week. I really want to make goal before Easter. I think I only gained .4 pounds this last week, but at the beginning, shortly after the beer-fest (North Texas Irish Festival), it was more like three (before the decimal). Enough of that. We will decide we want to live. Or we will decide we want to die a little more on purpose every day -- like the vast majority of the American population. I choose life. I've got a lot of it left -- I have a good one, and it's getting better. I know love. I know God. I know friendship. And I am learning to recognize and appreciate it all more everyday. I started a new novel last night, but I was so sleepy, I only made it five pages. But my basic goal is as small as one page of leisure-reading per day, so in that, I scored a 500%! We were driving along yesterday, and Chris was asking me geographic and historical questions, and I just had no answers. It felt very strange, so of course, I started thinking about why I know so very little about where I am from, and I came up with a few theories: * I did not pay attention because I was too busy creating and living in fantasy worlds because the world I lived in felt unsafe. * I did not pay attention. * No one told me all that stuff (or I did not pay attention). I don't really remember history being that big of a value in my immediate family. Maybe it was because I felt like my "present" was really more akin to the "past" since it seemed we were so far behind the rest of the world! Really and Eureka! That might be it! I was so confused when I began to live in both worlds -- country mouse and city mouse -- that I had to choose one to be my "present" and one to leave behind in the "past." This theory really resonates with me right now. I remember that July 4th trip to Manhattan Beach, and Josh and I went to see THE PATRIOT with Mel Gibson. (Starring Mel Gibson, that is, we were not sharing popcorn with him; however, Christopher Knight aka Peter Brady, was sitting right behind us in the theater). There was this scene where someone came across trunks and remains of a person's personal effects -- furniture, clothing, utensils. And I just started to cry. I realized for the first undeniable time, that I had been so hell-bent on de-identifying myself with that rural upbringing and with not embracing the good that it instilled in (which was quite a bit), that I had lost my identity altogether. I had not just detached from the part of it that caused me distress -- I had cut the cord completely and sent it ALL out of my consciousness. I did not know, until I shared the stories that used to embarass me, that my life had been one of technicolor in a world where many people's lives were only monochromatic. And I felt guilty. I felt like in denying that that life was mine, I was denying all the people who had worked so hard to build that life for themselves and for me. From absolutely nothing. That was sobering on that day. And that is where I felt my new life strangling me. Then the changes -- the leaving Nashville and the music business behind, the ending of the relationship, the leaving the country, the return to Texas. I am sitting on a screen porch, on a swing, drinking coffee. Just like in my dream life. Which dream? Which life? The dream of just being simple. Knowing the complexities and assimilating them when useful and necessary. But leaving them when all they do is complicate. That is the quest. I mastered it for a long while, and I was just about to let it all overtake me again, but I will not. I have been praying a lot this year (2007) for words, wisdom and courage. In all things. I think they are a masterful, powerful combination. I have been granted them on a few very pivotal occasions, and they have saved me. I remember, years ago, these journals would be filled one question mark after another. No more. I find that a very interesting characteristic. Is it because I do not have as many questions? Or is it because I finally realized I do not have all the answers? Look! Two questions! I think, to answer them, it is due to a little of both. I think I am glad, too. All those question marks really began to drain the life out of me. I never took time to reflect on an answer, even if I thought I had found it. I would just come up with ten more questions to take its place. That, thankfully, is no longer my present, and definitely my past. I thank God, literally, for that miracle. An absolute freedom from bondage that had ruled my life for way too many years. And isn't it funny how someone like the person that I used to be can be considered as "having all the answers" by so many other people? Unbelievable. I have not written this many words free-hand (I am transcribing this from my paper journal, by the way, in the interest of full disclosure) in I do not recall how many years. The last times were decidedly much more sad or angry. I am sure. Maybe that is why I stopped writing in books and started on the blog (http://rossovivogirl.blogspot.com). On the blog were generally positive and funny stories. And things I would not mind sharing -- at least eventually -- with others. And in the books were things that did not necessarily end up fitting into that category. Hmmmm. Another theory. Have I always been so "theoretical"?

are and aaaarggghh!

A year ago, I was in China. The country. Amazing. Today, I am eating homemade whole wheat pancakes. A year ago I was looking ahead to a few weeks of discovery, family and unfamiliar. Today, I am looking ahead to a week of discovery, family and unfamiliar. This year, it is all about quality time and relaxation. Both of which sound outstanding and rejuvenating for me. Tonight, I am going with Chris to dinner at my Peruvian friends' Kay and Javier's home, along with other bilingual teachers from my school. Tomorrow, I am preparing my house for a week away at a cabin in the Oauchita mountains. I love the sound of it. Week. Away. Cabin. Mountains. So excited. I will have a few items of "business" to take care of for my university program, but I will also take with me a new novel, my journal, my camera and my boyfriend. And I will spend much-needed time with all of them. I will take my mp3 player, and I will put on my headphones from time to time for a half hour, and I will sing as if no one can hear me. Because I love it. It inspires me. We were talking recently about silence and how most of us avoid having to endure much of it in our daily lives, and Chris wondered out loud why that is. And I responded, saying, "Most of us don't want to be left alone with our thoughts."

You Move Me

Yesterday, I was reminded of this beautiful song that I first loved a long time ago. It has been recorded by several artists, but my favorite (that I know of) to date is Susan Ashton's version. Here are the lyrics (written by Pierce Pettis): This is how it seems to me Life is only therapy Real expensive And no guarantee So I lie here on the couch With my heart hanging out Frozen solid with fear Like a rock in the ground But you move me You give me courage I didn't know I had You move me on I can't go with you And stay where I am So you move me on This is how love was to me I could look and not see Going through the emotions Not knowin' what they mean And it scared me so much That I just wouldn't budge I might have stayed there forever If not for your touch Oh but you move me Out of myself and into the fire You move me Now I'm burning with love And with hope and desire How you move me You go whistling in the dark Making light of it Making light of it And I follow with my heart Laughing all the way Oh 'cause you move me You get me dancing and you make me sing You move me Now I'm taking delight In every little thing How you move me The audio is on my page here, if you would like to hear it for yourself! Today, I am staring down an awesome task. I have to stand guard over a 3rd grade girl named Heaven and a 5th grade girl named Carrie who are taking the TAKS exam. It just occurred to me that it is no accident that "TAKS" has earned just as unsavory a reputation as its diabolical homonym "TAX" here in the great state of Texas. If you do not know, or are lucky, like me, to have not been subjected to life-sucking state-mandated minimum skills exams as an elementary, middle and high school student, "TAKS" stands for "Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills." It also stands for jamming kids' heads full of test-taking skills. Maybe it should stand for "Texas Assassination of Knowledge and Skills" or "The Antichrist of Knowledge and Skills." Well, Christi, how do you really feel? Anyway, I get to sit in the doorway between these two girls who have to be separated from their classmates because they cannot comprehend anything unless they are reading it aloud. So, I will be hearing two students read out loud from two different tests all day long, for as long as they want to take to finish. Yum. The principal says I can bring a book. I wonder if I can read aloud, too? I'm reading a book called "Unhooked: How Young Women Pursue Sex, Delay Love and Lose at Both." I bet they would stop reading and listen to me, huh? Better choose the silent route. I think it's some security violation for me to have a computer there that is connected to the internet, so I suppose that option is out. We are not even allowing parents or other visitors on our campus today. Crazy huh? Due to testing day security restrictions. I bet the CIA couldn't even worm their way in today. Anyhoo, there is no quiz in my Counseling Theories class this week, so I am feeling like I actually have the right to read a little for pleasure. I have tried to continue that favorite thing whilst committing myself to my studies so that I don't reel out of balance completely, but it's been difficult. I am going to read a novel over spring break. Last night, I negotiated (on behalf of half of my Basic Counseling Skills class) a change in our syllabus. The change resulted in our not having class the week of March 12th (when our spring breaks were for our teaching jobs) OR the week of March 19th (the UNT spring break) and now we get three weeks to do our take-home mid-term exam instead of just one week. Don't know how that happened. That was not one of my requests. The good news is that I will actually feel like I have a spring break now, instead of a few days off during which I had to do a lot of homework. Chris said, "You're such a powerhouse." I laughed. A powerhouse I do not want to be. I just wanted to see if there was a slight possibility of not having to muck up the whole spring break. I kind of want to go somewhere, even if just for a few days. Maybe Nashville, maybe Los Angeles. Was trying to think of places I could go where I would not have to pay a bunch of money for a hotel. Somewhere I could crash in a friend's guest room or even on their floor or sofa bed. I don't want to be out of town the entire time, just a few days of "away-"ness. That's all!

Mental Intercourse

I am supposed to start journaling this week, as a part of my Spiritual Life class. I should have started before now, but I was lazy. My brain has been really muddled this week. I was reading yesterday, and I came across these words in PURSUIT OF GOD by A. W. Tozer: --It is inherent in personality to be able to know other personalities, but full knowledge of one personality by another cannot be achieved in one encounter. It is only after long and loving mental intercourse that the full possibilities of both can be explored. "Mental intercourse" -- I love that. I mean, really LOVE that. It is what I am all about, whatever the topic. Not some arrogant, life-sucking discourse where one person talks for twenty minutes and says nothing. But REAL discussion, dialogue, about something. In person. Not chatting on the internet. Or talking on the phone. Eye to eye. Knee to knee. Expression to expression. Visible and comprehended. It has taken me my entire life to learn that a healthy confrontation is not negative or too scary. It is essential. It is required in order to have movement in a relationship. It is not always fun. And not always efficient. But I know that there are things people must discuss, sometimes, whether they want to at the the moment, or not. Maybe that is why my brain has been muddled. I have a couple of those impending conversations looming on the horizon. I'm nervous, but I have been praying to God for wisdom, words and courage. I believe they are coming. The right time has to be.

Counseling

So, most of you probably know that I have started work on a Masters Degree in Counseling at the University of North Texas. I had my Theories class tonight, which, by the way, is taught by the Chairperson of the Department AND the co-author of the textbook. Intimidating, perhaps? But, I persevere. We had this ridiculously difficult quiz tonight that was so difficult that I only got 4 of 11 questions correct, and half the class did far worse than I did. Thank goodness for the Bell curve. With that, at least I passed. Terribly discouraging. And as I was lamenting that fact, the doctoral student sitting in front of me reassured me, saying that I would have a greater knowledge of Theories than anyone else in any other professor's class and that I should not get discouraged. He said that my professor was without a doubt the most difficult in the department. Fab. So, I tried to feel better. What really bummed me out was that I really enjoyed all the basic tenets of the theory we were being quizzed about -- Adlerian counseling. It's very much about the individual and personal responsibility and having a vested community interest. Tricky questions. Anyhoo, at the end of class, we had to do this experiential activity where we paired up, and one person was the counselor and the other the client. And as the client, I had to come up with six to ten very specific early recollections, as in before the age of six years old. And I had to talk about how I felt in those situations. And then this fellow, my "counselor," who, incidentally, is the doctoral student, sums it up by saying, "So, I'm seeing here that the common thread is that you often felt like you were all alone, that your parents placed you in the care of someone else. And sometimes, bad things happened. I wonder, if based on that information, it would be safe to say that you are hardly ever taken by surprise, and you are a guarded person.?" Um, yeah. Of course, he also wondered if I planned everything out, but I really don't. I explained that I might read ahead about something I am going to do -- I might not be taken by surprise, but I am not a big planner. Just a preparer. There is a difference. I can count on my left hand the number of times someone has actually, truly surprised me, and I will have fingers left over. For my 30th birthday, my friend Cyndi, along with some other family and friends, delivered to my home this precious little antique pink dressing table that I had admired in her presence weeks before, very casually. And she made a mental note and rallied the troops to go in together to buy it and give it to me for my big 3-0. That was great. A boyfriend once surprised me with a gift of a mirror that I had admired on an afternoon walk. Of course, he did that sort of thing several times, and it made me feel very strange, so I stopped openly admiring things. My friend Karen surprised me with a cute little James Avery charm, a motorcycle, and a lovely note about how our friendship was very much like that of Che Guevara and his pal in the film The Motorcycle Diaries. My new boyfriend, Chris, surprised me with a lovely little gift the first time we met -- dark chocolate, a little duck for my keyring and a Borders gift card. He had surreptitiously read my blog and learned that those things were of special interest to me. So kind. Those are great surprises. The kind that let you know people are paying attention. And they are honoring your spirit. Oh, and my Dad surprised me with tickets to see Shaun Cassidy in concert back in the 70's. Do I have to count that? Now, it's on my permanent record. Okay, maybe they number on my left and right hand. But surprising me is difficult to do. I think too much. I have too active an imagination. I truly believe there are more surprises out there for me, though. And I am excited about them.

My Wish(es)

Dear Santa, I am writing for the second time in thirty years to just say, 'hey'. Well, not exactly. People keep bugging me, asking me what I want for Christmas. Other than the standard Miss American contestant rap, "world peace", I have had a difficult time articulating for them. So, I decided to go the old-fashioned route. A Christmas list. So, with a little thought and hopes that you are still checking your mailbox up there, here is what I came up with: 1. World Market Gift Card 2. Borders Bookstore Gift Card 3. iTunes Gift Certificate 4. An Easel and some acrylics 5. A great boyfriend (please do NOT purchase this one!) 6. TJ Maxx Gift Certificate 7. A meaningful James Avery Charm - Silver 8. Guitar lessons. It's just silly that I'm not an expert at this skill as much as i Love it. 9. An external hard drive for my computer(s). I got a cool new MacBook that has fun movie/photo/music programs on it, and I have a feeling I am going to need extra storage! 10. A renewal for my mac.com membership so I can keep that cool web site up and running! 11. Gloria's Restaurants Gift Card Well, Santa, how does that sound? Really, most of all, I would like to just have a great time with family and friends, throw a little cocktail party and catch up with everyone. Without life getting in the way. I'd take that in place of all of the above! The above photo is there to represent all of the belly laughs I get when I read David Sedaris' short story account of the Christmas that he spent working as an elf (at age 33) at Macy's SantaLand in New York City. It's called "The Santaland Diaries", and you can read it in his collection of holiday short stories HOLIDAYS ON ICE. It's not for the overly-sentimental. Love, Me

Attempting

I am officially attempting to get back in touch with The Muse. It has been tucked away for almost a year, and it needs to show its face. Or at least, it needs to show me the words to write. There is a new entry just before this one. It will be baby steps. I don't know where my words went for so long. But getting them out might make life a little easier for me right now.

100 Things That Nourish Me

1. writing 2. reading 3. great conversation 4. learning about God 5. grapes 6. exercise 7. my friendship with my sister 8. human contact 9. relationships 10. teaching 11. seeing 12. touching 13. smelling 14. hearing 15. tasting 16. truth 17. fiction 18. holding hands 19. singing 20. playing with children 21. a great film 22. creating 23. cooking 24. tearing up something 25. painting 26. bathing 27. sharing 28. coffee 29. hot tea 30. traveling 31. journaling 32. studying 33. research 34. success 35. red meat 36. entertaining 37. laughing 38. making someone else laugh 39. honesty 40. healthy skepticism 41. relationship 42. kindness 43. being random 44. contact 45. listening to someone 46. being taught 47. progress 48. praying 49. questioning 50. answering 51. inquiring 52. seeking 53. leading 54. being properly managed 55. my history 56. my future 57. consideration 58. thoughtfulness 59. service to others 60. playing a game with family 61. interviewing 62. photography 63. chronicling 64. observing 65. live music 66. songs 67. songwriters 68. puzzles 69. words and where they came from 70. art 71. lions 72. understanding death 73. trust 74. loyalty 75. honesty 76. insight 77. curiousity 78. grace 79. beauty 80. memoirs 81. conciseness 82. detail 83. attention 84. watching 85. smiles 86. affection 87. emptiness 88. invitations 89. good health 90. comfort 91. giving aid 92. knowing 93. empathy 94. compassion 95. willingness 96. preparedness 97. happiness 98. connection 99. ability 100. finishing

belief

i lost touch with my muse. i don't regret it, really. i think my muse had taken flight long before i became one for someone else. now, however, almost two months later, i am wondering if perhaps the whole experience might not have come my way to show me that what i have to say will always be here. it will just be my responsibility to say it. in writing or otherwise.

Vacation Is Over

Well, to say the least, the European vacation is drawing to an end. Actually, it was scheduled to end about a week ago, but it has been impossible to get on a flight out of Spain to the United States. I tried three days in a row in Madrid (going to and from the airport each day), and then I took a train to Barcelona, where, conveniently, there was a strike starting the same day, and only 228 of of 942 flights went out that day. Fab-u-lo-so. Anyway, I went to the Barcelona for the 2nd day in a row today, and I will try again tomorrow. Tomorrow looks slightly more hopeful as Delta has added a flight from here to London that goes on to Atlanta, and hopefully, there will be enough seats on that one to accommodate all of us displaced and stand-by passengers all the way home. I swear, if I can just get to Atlanta, I might just rent a car and drive all the way to Dallas from Georgia! The photo is what the airport looked like yesterday when I got there. Read the article about the chaos, too! If you have never been in an airport in the thick of the busiest weekend of travel in Europe AND an employee strike, I am not sure you have lived!

Various Madrid pics

Mi nuevo amigo mexicano

A funny guy who was taking a law course in the same university as us. He sang us songs in the cafeteria from time to time.

Me and my Professor Dr. Antonio Fabregat

Más de Madrid

Having been in Spain for a month now, I have had to learn a new vocabulary word: agotada. It means exhausted. And I do not foresee it getting all that much better all that much faster. Here are a few pics to enjoy until I see you again.

Madrid, oh Madrid

I am in my friendly neighborhood internet café, and I thought I would write an update since it has been since last month since I delivered anything. What have I been doing? Attending classes. Often. The Children's Literature course I am taking is really quite good, a little difficult to handle 2.5 hours of lecture at 9am without a good egg for breakfast, but I am surviving. One of the most outstanding aspects of the course is the series of conferences and colloquia that are a part of our afternoons. We are having up close and personal visits with Prize winning authors and children's book illustrators who give us their phone numbers and email addresses or go out to eat with us. It is a really cool deal to be able to talk with them and ask questions. I have made friends with an illustrator/artist (http://www.teopuebla.com) here in Madrid who is working on an amazing mural project called GRACIAS, which consists of giant (about 6X8 foot) portraits of various historical figures who have made a grand contribution to humanity and, as a result, have died violently. Some of the portraits that are finished to date are Jesus Christ, Che Guevara, Spartacus, Martin Luther King. There are others, but I cannot remember them all right now. I was able to go to the studio this weekend to see them, up close and personal. Really quite moving. I will hopefully have some pictures of the promotional folio to share with you when I get home. A very cool experience. The artist gave me some original watercolors of illustrations that he had done for a couple of children's books -- really kind and generous. I am still sweating like crazy over here -- it has not let up. Most of my group went south to Andalucia this weekend, but I passed on that since I used to live there several years ago. I stayed here to sweat for free! Even all my Mexican pals went on a field trip for the weekend. The past two days, I ate breakfast in the dining hall completely alone! Saturday, I went to the Museo de Reina Sofia which is co-hosting a huge Picasso exhibition with the Museo del Prado -- and this time, I bought the exhibition poster so I will always have the recuerdo. I also went to a FREE exhibition called MUJERES of Gustav Klimt's work, all studies and portraits of women that he did over the course of a few decades at the turn of the century. Very nice. Bought the poster there, too! Only one more week of class, then we are free! I am here in Spain until the 27th, but I might take a trip this weekend to Vigo, a beach town in Galicia up North. Everyone says it is amazing and is worth the time and money. And I think I have a place to stay there, which is always a motivator! I will go now, for I feel like I am rambling. Again. More later.

Le Gondole di Venezia, Giugno 2006

  

      

Viva Italia

I am two days in Italy now, my inner clock is almost completely Euro-calibrated, and I have already eaten more amazing food than any one white girl deserves! I am staying with friends in northern Italy, in a small city called Reggio Emilia, the early childhood education capital of the world (www.reggiochildren.it). Yesterday, my friend Heather escorted me and her son to his school here, and I spent about an hour taking photos and gathering information. Afterward, we returned to the apartment, and her friend Fabio loaned me his rickety bicycle so that we could bike over the administrative offices of Reggio Children across town. Yes, I rode a bike. I told Heather, begged her, actually, that she was welcome to leave me far behind if I embarrassed her or toppled over. Neither happened. We zipped and zoomed down streets, through underground tunnels (with sharp turns might I add) and made it to and fro with no incidents. The visit to the admin offices was fruitful -- I talked with their staff, browsed their library/bookstore and bought a few books to take home and share with my friends and coworkers. (Right now, I am trying to concentrate while a 5-year-old zurbits my neck from behind, so pardon any lapses in grammar or good sense!) Last night, we jumped into the rental car and drove up into the mountains nearby. We saw a ginormous castle (we tried to arrive there, but we could not find the correct road). We visited the winery from which my friend has recently purchased a container of wine to import into the United States, and we accidentally found a roadside restaurant at which I consumed some of the most delectable food of my young life. In the car on the way over, the little boy was explaining to me that he did NOT enjoy eating at the roadside Auto Grills that you encounter on road trips here in Italy simply because they use hydrogenated oils, and food cooked with those is not healthy for his body. Yes, he said "hydrogenated oils". I think about students that I have who come to kindergarten having no idea that they even have something called a "nose" on their face, and I see that proper, interactive and high-expectation parenting makes not just a world, but a galaxy/universe of difference in the intellect and oral language ability of a child. I want to record him speaking (which he now does in both English and Italian) and share it with my students' parents. Sometimes, I think we have a preconceived notion of a ceiling of intelligence for children, and we, not they, limit them. When we are able to look at them as infants or toddlers and see the person we hope for them to become, then we can be of some service to them. Use the better word, the more academic word. Not to create an elitist, but to set a standard. To encourage curiousity, to inspire them to inspire someone else. In doing that for them, we serve them well. We parent them. We tutor them. We mentor them. We cultivate them. We hope. It is SO hot here that we have only left the house for a few hours today to go get lunch, a gelato and then my friend Heather coerced me into going to the neighborhood cafe to meet an Italian man she thought might interest me. He did not. I, as is common with me, did not give him much of a chance, but he also did not offer to engage in conversation with me, even though he had seen that I can understand at least 85% of the Italian that is spoken to me. Oh well. Then Heather and I spent a fabulous time chatting in Italian, English and Spanish with her friends Fabio and Daniele, the sons of the people who own the little Cafe Borsa. It was fun. We explained some nuances and vulgarities within the English language and warded off some great faux pas. We learned of some pre-wedding practical joke traditions that they carry out (should we call them practical jokes instead?) with their friends. They are going to a wedding tomorrow, and one of the tricks that they are going to do is that they have changed 170 Euro into only coinage, and they will tape the coins all in a row between two layers of Scotch tape, and then they will wind it around a tube and give to the couple. Then the couple must spend who knows how long un-fixing the coins in order to get the money to spend. I said that that sounded like a marvelous way to start a savings account for the first child. And when the child reaches preschool age, he/she can set about unsticking the money as an ongoing project. What do you think? I must go now -- to sweat in peace. And to listen to the odd assemblage of people who are setting up microphones and a PA to sing to pre-recorded music on the town square just over our balcony. Ahhhh. Viva Italia.

100 adjectives that describe me

This list was conjured on December 31, 2004. 1. fun 2. clever 3. wise 4. knowledgeable 5. judgmental 6. peaceful 7. Christian 8. nurturing 9. sensitive 10. empathetic 11. sympathetic 12. clingy 13. curious 14. capricious 15. spontaneous 16. wild 17. sexy 18. beautiful 19. caring 20. attentive 21. passionate 22. musical 23. interesting 24. worldly 25. adventuresome 26. plump 27. bright 28. gregarious 29. supportive 30. irresponsible 31. impetuous 32. daring 33. spiteful 34. passive 35. apathetic 36. oblivious 37. reckless 38. deceptive 39. worrisome 40. anxious 41. preoccupied 42. lacking 43. mindful 44. nervous 45. distractible 46. ambiguous 47. talented 48. gifted 49. instinctive 50. hungry 51. thirsting 52. tempting 53. decent 54. respectful 55. intuitive 56. fragmented 57. damaged 58. compassionate 59. simple 60. complex 61. dramatic 62. intimidating 63. feral 64. bilingual 65. heartless 66. limber 67. pale 68. green-eyed 69. red-haired 70. freckled 71. distinctive 72. inspired 73. welcoming 74. useful 75. service-oriented 76. calming 77. influential 78. persuasive 79. thought-provoking 80. complicated 81. dedicated 82. clean 83. rested 84. pretty 85. bright-eyed 86. responsible 87. neurotic 88. people-minded 89. helpful 90. willing 91. weak 92. strong 93. emotional 94. sensible 95. studious 96. soft-hearted 97. reticent 98. cool 99. aloof 100.reflective

On Arrival In Hong Kong

  

quarantine

truly, i have never been this inactive or unproductive in my entire life. i began feeling a big under the weather last weekend, and i called in sick to work on monday (which i very close to never do). i returned to work on tuesday to a roomful of smiling faces. then, after feeling progressively worse over the course of the day, decided to pop by the clinic on my way home. if for no other reason than for confirmation that "it was nothing" and because i was less than three weeks away from an arduous trip halfway 'round the world to China. i sat through the H&P with the physician, who, based on a few of my responses to her questions, decided to do a flu test. she swabbed the inside of my left nostril and left the room. she returned three minutes later, saying "um, yeah, it usually takes ten minutes minimum to get a result. you have the flu. you are on bedrest and quarantined for at least the next five days. i'll prescribe you Tamiflu in case it's not too late for it to be effective in staving off some of the symptoms. have some cough syrup too. whatever that is that is beginning to rumble in your chest will become a problem". great. so, i dropped off the prescriptions, drove next door to Kroger to pick up some groceries and went to rent some movies. five movies. i have not rented five movies total in the past year. i watched four of them the next day. while lying on the mattress that i mustered the strength to drag from my guest room onto the floor of the only room in my house with a television set. i wanted to preserve the sanctity of my actual bedroom. i did not want to be sick in there. and i certainly did not want to invade it with the media. so far, this week, i have watched: HITCH LACKAWANNA BLUES ABOUT A BOY (for the 2nd time) WEDDING CRASHERS ROOTS (the original miniseries from 1977, in its entirety) ALFIE (the not-so-original from 2004, although with all the changes, i guess it is original in its own way) BRIAN WILSON ON TOUR TO HAVE AND TO BE (a French documentary about a one-room schoolhouse) I also bought HUSTLE & FLOW, which is amazing. watch CRASH first, though. so that you will TRULY appreciate Terence Howard's H&F performance. i am building a new web site this week (once I get my new software) so that i can properly chronicle and share the China experience. date of departure is March 6. am very excited and a little nervous -- mainly about the part where i am in charge of my two nieces (ages 13 and almost-13), neither of whom have ever left the continent or flown since they were infants. wow. okay, well i should be sleeping. the lights are out. they told me so. have had many fabulous words and thoughts drift through my mind this week but was too exhausted to write them down. holding out hope that they will find their way to my fingers before too long again.

clowns are people, too!

  what is there to say about this bus ride? we had enjoyed our few hours of escape in san miguel de allende, and we needed a little rest on the 2 hour bus ride back to san felipe. send in the clowns. and our brief peace was shattered. 

yo y clarinete el payaso

   

encouragement

isn't it amazing that one of the kindest, most appreciated gifts that you can give someone is completely free? i have received more than my share of encouragement in the past few months, from people very close to me as well as from people who are close to people who are close to me. and most recently, from a group of esteemed complete strangers. last week, i was told that i have been chosen, one of five, to participate in a very cool Masters' Level Creative Writing program created by The Dallas Writers' Garret (www.writersgarret.org) called Writers' CAMP (Community Authors Mentorship Program. From their brochure, I copy: Writers' CAMP is a non-credit creative writing program developed by The Writers' Garret for writers who want intensive study in poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction or playwriting. CAMP offers a unique combination of structure and flexibility that encourages students to develop the independent work-habits of professional writers. CAMP was developed for people with busy lives, children or full-time work who want to pursue their love of writing but otherwise could not. The two aspects of CAMP, community and mentorships, are key to the program. Because writing can be such an isolated activity, CAMP consciously cultivates a community of writers who balance activity with solitude. At advanced levels, CAMP students are eligible to receive one-on-one mentorships with qualified and professional writers. CAMP differs from traditional university/college creative writing programs by offering a non-credit, mostly self-directed course of study that permits writers to learn at their own pace, while still offering structure and guidance as they grow. CAMP also allows those on fixed incomes to trade community service in exchange for study. CAMP students teach in our Dallas Writers In The Schools (WITS) program, provide office and programming assistance and contribute to The Writers' Garret outreach in a myriad of ways. The mission of The Writers' Garret is to foster the development of writers and audiences by putting them in touch with quality literature, each other and the communities in which they live and write. Cool, huh? The Dallas Writers' Garret also presents a very cool literary series called "The Writers Studio" with local NPR station KERA. Check out the authors who will be interviewed this season here: http://www.writersgarret.org/thews.htm. So, to all of you who have been an amazing encouragement to me in the writing department -- Karyn, Diana, Helena, Jenny, Jenny's Dad Bernie, John, Alicen, Sally, Jessica, The Jeffs, The Scotts, Dad, Mom, Karen, Karyn, Aunt Tom, Connie, Becky, The Lauras, Deborah, Cyndi, Cindy, Leslie, Russ, Rachel, Brownlee, Heather, Luellyn, Dana, Dianna, Ms. Z., Donna, Tasha, Sarah, Mary Kathryn, Dotti, Jackson, Lori (I'm watching the Golden Globe Awards and have clearly been whisked away into some sort of acceptance speech moment...) -- I say 'thank you'. I love your feedback and I am constantly changed by you.

authentic community

as fate would have it, the teaching topic at church this morning was "community". but not just any kind of "community". "authentic community". the best kind. the kind that, like the best kind of love, is filled with people with whom we belong. who genuinely care for us. who hold us accountable. it is the kind of relationship that i long for. long. be-long. i believe that it is that kind of longing that lies within each of us that compels us. to do what, you ask? to seek. to satisfy. the longing. when we do not have that longing fulfilled, we start to disintegrate. dis-integrate. to intentionally not belong. or worse, to belong to the wrong. when all parts of us are not working together, integrated, we fall apart. maybe we do not notice it. or we have trained ourselves to believe that the disintegrated "us" is the normal, the default. but i don't think so. i believe that this crazy world we inhabit works constantly and strategically to convince us that we are alone, that we are an island. so that it, with all of its trappings, all of its services and products and programming, can swoop in and be our salvation. when, ironically, what we need to be saved from is that very same world and all that comes with it. take a week off from television. if you really pay attention and give yourself a true visual media sabbatical, when you turn it back on, you will be offended. not necessarily just morally, but at the very core of your being. it might occur to you to question the box, "you think you know me? who do you think i am?". when at precisely the same time of night, it shows you advertisements for an anti-depressant. or a pill to keep your herpes in check. or plays on your emotions to summon up memories of the music of your youth. it does know you. because you turn it on at the same bat-time and same bat-channel each day. or week. and it has someone on its payroll whose only purpose in life is to figure out who you are. what you use. where you go. what you eat. how you feel. when you were born. it's a sobering thought. identity theft does not just occur on paper. it occurs every time we turn on the television. it takes away our ability to relate to others. pay attention. when you are in a room full of people, how much authentic community is taking place if the television is on. there does not even have to be any volume. it still becomes the focus. it takes away all our sense of true human relationship. it works to make us believe we are alone by making itself the only thing we believe we have in common with others. it boasts that it is reality. while depriving us of our own. of this is not to say that there is not worthwhile programming in television. or that sometimes, it's okay to just sit down and vegetate. but maybe we should keep track of how often we do that. and maybe is there not something else we could do that would improve our quality of life for the long term? taking a walk. listening to a song. reading a great book. calling an old friend. baking something. meandering through the new grocery store down the street. i am writing this piece as much to myself as to anyone else i know. i am in the process of forcing myself out of the house. i no longer give myself the right to whine about my lack of relationship(s) when my own reclusivity is the culprit. last night, i went out with a friend -- our first stop was the urbanmarket in downtown dallas -- a lovely little grocery, florist and cafe. then we went to a great little salvadoran/mexican restaurant called Gloria's on greenville avenue. i forgot how much i loved exploring unfamiliar places like that. and i questioned myself about why i was completely comfortable flying to another country and spending months traveling around alone, yet going out in america alone gave me tiny little heart palpitations. and then i heard a quote from George Gallup, "americans are the loneliest people in the world". oh.

what if no one comes?

my brother and i are giving a little cocktail party tonight. last night, i went to purchase the little finger foods that will be placed strategically throughout my house, and the night before that, i picked up the wine -- some red, some white. my brother is bringing the beer. the playlists are set up on the computer to pipe the music that i love so much throughout the house. but what if no one comes? i have found that in today's world, people are fairly unpredictable. some people have let me know that they are certain they cannot stop by due to prior obligations. but there are several from whom i have not heard. what does that mean? are people afraid of being social? i am, at times, but i have learned to encourage myself to get out of the house. i have been fairly un-social (not anti-social) for the past few years, due simply to not having lived in a target-rich environment. i am enjoying my second cup of espresso roast right now. the 2nd cup with sugar, not the pink stuff. i try to be calorie conscious in ever-so-little ways, but i cannot bring myself to deprive myself of the perfect cup of coffee on a regular basis. i should be making sense of this disorganized house right now, because i think my mom will be arriving shortly, and if i do not have it all together by then, she might feel compelled to help, and i don't want her to feel like she has to work on something every time she comes to see me! although i always appreciate it. so. music. food. beverages. all i need now are the people. more on that aspect of the cocktails and conversation tomorrow!

happy birthday to me!

it's pre-6:00 a.m. on december 14th, and that means that all those years ago, i had just come into the world. 5:33 a.m., to be exact, i believe. wow. and i'm still here. last night, on birthday eve, i was writing the first draft of some goals for the next full year of my little life, and i found that they came with much greater ease than in years past. i was fairly diligent for several years about actually writing down goals at the end of the year, but for the past few years, since i returned to texas, i have not really paid attention to that practice. it just occurred to me last night, and i decided to begin it again. i recently applied to a three-year-long program called Community Authors Mentorship Program (CAMP), which is a boot-camp for writers which involves graduate level writing instruction and workshops. just getting the application done was a feat for me. i almost missed the deadline (Nov 15), and on that day, they posted an extended deadline to Dec 12. i almost missed that one too (do i have a fear of rejection?), and then i was told that if my application package was postmarked by Dec 12, it would still be valid. then, i had no excuse. so i went to the post office -- one of my least favorite things in the world to do, besides putting gas in my car and making cold calls. so, it's out there, along with 12 pages of writing samples and my heart. we shall see. anyway, sharing my writing more is one of my goals for 2006, to try and publish something, however simple or small-time. and i want to take guitar lessons again. and sing in public for someone's enjoyment. i have decided to place a lot of pressure on my right brain. can you tell? today is also the birthday of one of my students -- the most hard-headed and rebellious one. coincidence? i think not. anyway, his mom had asked permission to cook up tons of Mexican food and bring us all lunch today, but she told me on Monday that she could not do that because he had been punished for throwing away a gold necklace and medallion that his uncle had sent him from California. great. he's costing me a fabulous lunch! he's cost me more than that so far this semester, let me tell you. well, i will go now -- i hope you have a fabulous day. i plan to. however humble and low-key it may be. as Frosty the Snowman would say, "Happy Birthday!". i mean "Merry Christmas!".

it's about time for generosity

(each of the "it's about time" installments are the result of my mostly attentive note-taking during recent messages delivered by jeff kinkade at my church). the secret to real joy in life is generosity. not just talking about financial generosity but rather all year-round generosity. not talking about human generosity which is often motivated by a desire for recognition or for a tax break. but rather self-sacrificing, soul-energizing, God-glorifying generosity. "The generous sould will be made rich and he who waters will be watered himself" (Proverbs 11:25). the word used for "generous" in the original translation actually means "to bless". you can bless people in a variety of ways, with your tongue (kind, helpful words), your time, your talents and your treasure. who are you blessing in each of these ways? what happens to people who are genuinely generous? they... prosper -- do not perpetrate the notion of prosperity theology - that you will be wealthy if you give money. you can prosper by being a very joyful person. we live in a selfish, sinful and fallen world. generosity is something that has a boomerang effect. it brings joy to your life that is not characteristic of a fallen world. the measure of a life is not its duration but its donation. -- (peter marshall, former U.S. Senate Chaplain) generous people are... people of vision -- they are sure that God wants to use them for some purpose. take time soon to write a vision statement for your life, in part answering the questions, "what do i want to be remembered for?" intentional -- they are sensitive to the Spirit of God and who He is leading across their paths. most of us are so focused on the tiny tasks of our lives that we miss the bigger and more obvious opportunities that present themselves to us on a daily basis. we should be asking ourselves, "what can i do today to make a difference in the world?" thankful -- they cultivate a habit of thankfulness, the genuine kind. selfless -- they are not the kind of people looking for recognition or a pat on the back. they know that God knows what they have done. generous people don't give looking for something in return. they give without expectations. soon, do these things: *write a vision statement for your life * look for opportunities to be generous *cultivate the habit of thankfulness *give your life away without expectations

it's about time for forgiveness

for the past few weeks, the pastor at my church has been teaching in a series called "it's about time...". each week, he adds, "for..." and whatever the topic is for the week. there have been some really powerful thoughts and ideas in the teachings, so i thought i would make them more widely known. "it's about time for...forgiveness" "if you could lick my heart, it would poison you." (holocaust survivor) we can find release in the freedom that only forgiveness can provide us. forgiveness is not: 1) forgetting 2) excusing 3) smoothing things over 4) instantaneous the only one who can forgive in a single breath is God. 4 stages of forgiveness * suffering -- stop running from what was done to you, acknowledge what was done, experience the pain and suffer. if you have done that, then consider the suffering as a gift. Paul wrote in Philippians 3:10, "I want to know Christ and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings". the larger the hurt, the larger the gift. * surrendering your desire to get even with the person who has wronged or offended you. unforgiveness is a self-imposed torture that comes from the desire for control. revenge will not remove the poison that is in your heart due to hatred and bitterness. * remembering the humanity of your offender. when we do not forgive, we begin to think of the person only in the context of what they have done to offend us. we forget that they are human. we need to rediscover that they are complex, weak, hurt and fragile people just like we are. *reconciling with your offender, which is a process for some which is not possible. if you can, turn back the hands of time, heal wounds and move into the future.

it's about time

for the past few weeks, the pastor at my church has been teaching in a series called "it's about time...". each week, he adds, "for..." and whatever the topic is for the week. there have been some really powerful thoughts and ideas in the teachings, so i thought i would make them more widely known. it's about time for thankfulness... Principles of Thanks-giving 1) believe -- that God exists and the He revealed himself in Jesus Christ. it is terrible to be grateful and to have no one to thanks, to be awed and to have no one to worship (philip yancey). who are you thankful to? in general, to no one in particular? does that feel meaningless? even though we are separated from God, with belief in Christ for eternal life, we have eternal life. 2) inclusive -- give thanks in all circumstances, not just in the circumstances that you like. when you are around a genuinely Biblically thankful person, it is awe-inspiring. there are a lot of good things we can be thankful for, but there are a lot of other things, as well like obstacles, lessons learned the hard way, illnesses. the deepest desire of every human heart is to know God more intimately. this Earth is not what we were created for. Biblically thankful people can see the sovereign hand of God even in the worst times. 3) obedience -- if thankfulness came naturally to any of us, Paul would not have seen it fit to command us to be thankful. we have to overcome the part of us that is normally, instinctively not thankful to God. barriers to thankfulness 1) comparison -- to others who have more than we do 2) busy-ness -- we do not take time to notice what there is to be thankful for. 3) focus -- some of us are constantly focused on our troubles, our struggles, not our blessings. 4) undervaluing -- certain things we should value higher friendships are one of the main things we under-value! 5) ego -- thankfulness requires humility 6) expectations -- we have so much, and we expect that that is what we are entitled to have. don't waste another day in an ungrateful spirit. give thanks for 1) spiritual blessings; 2) physical blessings like your car, your food, your health; 3) lessons learned the hard way; and 4) relational blessings like friends, family and new friends.

"to see what i have lost makes me able to see what i have gained." (michael j. fox) this week, i was blessed to connect with an intelligent, helpful and service-oriented customer service representative at SBC when i called to question a gigantic bill that i had received. after many many minutes on the phone with her, she with her supervisor, and he with his supervisor, the phone call resulted in a $200 credit and a change in my dish network satellite services. i cancelled a premium channels package, and i upgraded instead to the next level of service with regular satellite service. (that has got to be the longest sentence i've ever forced on you to date!) anyway, i don't watch much television (at all -- "my name is earl", "everybody hates chris" and "e.r.") with any frequency, unless, of course, i am avoiding cleaning house. however, there were a few channels that i knew i would really enjoy, based on my interests and predilections, like BRAVO, BBC America, DIY. and a few others. anyway, they were just out of my reach on the next level of service. so, i decided to pay a few extra dollars and get what i really wanted. a valuable lesson. sort of like choosing organic and hormone-free food and dairy products. it really does taste better, and i believe when it tastes better, we eat less of it. because we are satisfied sooner. anyhoo, tonight, i watched, for the first time in a very long time, one of my all-time favorite programs on BRAVO called "Inside The Actors Studio". so very interesting to me. even if i have no real interest in the interviewee. i always learn something fascinating or something that lends a little more understanding to their body of work. aside -- i just made an amazing gumbo. seriously. CJF's secret recipe. okay, back to it. this past week, i read a million little pieces and my friend leonard by james frey. riveting. obviously. i read the first one in less than three days. and the second one, which i was only going to the bookstore to "look at" sucked me right in. i read 115 pages of leonard at Borders, and that night, i read all the way up to page 253 and finished it the next day. then i was kind of mad that i had spent $18.00 and used it up so quickly. but i rolled with it.

kissing

have i written about this lately? no, probably not. i am watching "something's gotta give", and there was just the scene where jack and diane kiss for the first time. so fun. i want a sandwich. in paris. now. instead, i will get a sandwich. at panera. in a few minutes.

Dear Santa Claus

Dear Santa, I am writing for the first time in thirty years to just say, 'hey'. Well, not exactly. People keep bugging me, asking me what I want for Christmas. Other than the standard Miss American contestant rap, "world peace", I have had a difficult time articulating for them. So, I decided to go the old-fashioned route. A Christmas list. So, with a little thought and hopes that you are still checking your mailbox up there, here is what I came up with: 1. World Market Gift Card 2. Borders Bookstore Gift Card 3. iTunes Gift Certificate 4. An Easel and some acrylics 5. A great boyfriend (please do NOT purchase this one!) 6. TJ Maxx Gift Certificate 7. A meaningful James Avery Charm - Silver 8. Guitar lessons. It's just silly that I'm not an expert at this skill as much as i Love it. Well, Santa, how does that sound? Really, most of all, I would like to just have a great time with family and friends, throw a little cocktail party and catch up with everyone. Without life getting in the way. I'd take that in place of all of the above! Love, Me

Hanging with friends way too late!

missing

at dinnertime, i wish i lived in new york. all those choices. from dirt cheap to excessively expensive. perhaps many of the same choices exist here in the dallas area (i'm certain many of them do), but i cannot, on the spur of the moment, walk outside my door and get to any one of them in a matter of minutes by foot. that's the special part. i have a few regular spots, but they are miles and gallons away. what else do i miss? i miss my friends. i miss talking on the phone with them. i miss laughing over coffee or wine and sitting for hours just hanging out, wondering out loud. i know that we have to grow up, but is it absolutely necessary that we separate ourselves so terribly much? would it be out of the question to just plan a little reunion and take three or four days to just enjoy each other and our history together? some get weary of talking about the past, but without it, we would have no present and certainly no future. and i have had some really beautiful life moments just sitting and talking with long-time friends and finding out that we have some of the same questions, triumphs and struggles. why do we abandon each other? certainly, it's not on purpose. it must be some sort of natural progression. if we dip carefully into our past, it does not mean that we are regressing, taking steps backward. we should view it as a way of seasoning our present lives. one of my good friends always talked about what she perceived as the very real danger of intermingling your "groups". your work group with your going-out group. your church group with your life-long friends group. sometimes, it very much does not work. but i think the older we get, the more discerning we become, and if we are honest, there really is not all that much distinction among the members of each group. now, maybe it just has more to do with scheduling and real interests. i am making some friends here now, and i wonder if i am having to convince myself that i am now capable of intermingling all those groups. now i know myself better, and i know who i want to spend my time with -- and it's all the same kind of person. we should not let the written word take away our voices. we need to talk to each other. i need to call you. you need to call me. there's a truth in the voice that can be masked in writing. let's talk.

write. writer. writing. written. wrote.

I am sitting at panera bread company where I just consumed a nice turkey artichoke panini with a bowl of baked potato soup. I was briefly, very, inspired to cook today, but then I swept the house, drank some coffee and tumbled back into the bed to finish ann patchett’s memoir, truth & beauty. Which, I believe, was both truthful and beautiful, as promised. I just caught a whiff of 2000, manhattan beach, California. Isn’t that strange? I wonder what it was? It’s nice to be able to use your laptop in public places with wi-fi internet access, but until the furniture set-up in these places has as much to do with ergonomically sound desk practices as it does with delightful food, it will not serve me very well for very long. The manager just snatched my empty dishes from my table. I don’t think in a necessarily angry or impatient way. Maybe just in a way that indicates he would rather be typing out his thoughts than be surrounded by lots of other people who are afforded that luxury during his shift. This table height is, however, inspiring me to sit up straighter. Perhaps the ergonomic problem lies in my central nervous system and NOT in the design of the restaurant. I was thinking about going to the movie today, but it would be better if I would skip that, go home, be artful and/or domestic and make something happen in either or both of those realms. I wonder if I really am a writer? I mean, I write, therefore I’m a writer? I don’t know if it works that way. Because a lot of people write, and NO one reads what they write? Do you have to be read in order to really be considered a writer? Sort of like that tree falling in the woods thing? Whoever thought that up? It’s fall today. It’s actually the one month anniversary of fall today, but for the first time in a while, it actually feels like fall. Which I love. We are supposed to be studying about fall right now, but alas! It has continued to be 93 degrees at night, and it seems a little nonsensical, fantastical, even cruel to fill these children’s heads with such tomfoolery as are the lessons about “fall” and leaves changing colors and falling involuntarily down. When it comes time to save and name my writing files, I am always shaken by how difficult it is to actually call it one thing that will remind me exactly, precisely what I was writing about that day. In order to do that, I would have to make up a whole new variety of compound words. There are not a lot of women in here typing. They’re all out shopping or resting or cooking or butt-wiping while their significant others are lounging in Italian bakeries sending instant messages to their secret lovers. Wouldn’t that be tragic if it were true? Un very cute man just walked in with his equally precious son. I am going to try to get the Dallas Morning News to do a feature on Words and Voices, centering around the Jeffrey Steele show. He was just named Songwriter of the Year by NSAI a few weeks ago. I wonder if he is nominated for a CMA Award for producing work on the Montgomery Gentry album, which I believe is nominated for Best Album. Wouldn’t that be a hoot? I am about to go over to Borders. I don’t know why. I should actually go to Half Price Books. More in the budget. Actually, going home is more in the budget. Or to the movies. Why don’t more women write in public? Because they’re not used to having a voice? Or they are used to having interactive voices? Hanging out with a girlfriend, chatting? Which is better? Which is more helpful in the end? To discuss something with yourself or to discuss something with a friend? I guess it depends on the honesty of all involved. It’s interesting to me how simple it is to crank out 679 words without even thinking about it. Could I do a Masters Degree? Where? Studying what? Counseling? Biblical Counseling? SMU? DTS? UT? Why can’t Baylor be closer? 180 mile round trip commute is a little excessive, especially in the age of hideously overprices gasoline with no hope in sight for positive change. Lord E. Mama.

hope v. faith

today, while showering, i had an epiphany. i had never really considered how similar and yet very different these two concepts are. why would they be so carefully and succinctly delineated in the Word if they were as similar as i have thought them to be my entire life? how did i come to this? while shaving my legs, of course. and it occurred to me that shaving your legs is an act of hope, while NOT shaving your legs is an act of complete blind faith. hope is still laced with some indelible human need to doubt. faith is involved in nothing of the sort. faith is so heavily fortified against doubt that it might not even know the word exists, much less care about its true meaning. hope is riddled with unquietness, however brightly displayed for the world to see, and it is often an essential thread in the problems that we weave effortlessly for our lives. faith carries, as part of who it is, an unshakeable stability that repels any self-questioning, self-hatred or even self. when we find something (or someone) in which (or whom) to put our faith, we have achieved. and we know it. one of my favorite things in the world is to read beautiful words that render beautiful thoughts. or at least provocations of them. whether the words are surrounded by music or a bookcover, all of us should spend more time with them. how can we formulate our own thoughts if we rely solely upon ourselves and the few words we already have to inspire them? it seems a little arrogant when you read it, does it not? to consider ourselves so complete and so at the peak that we have nothing more to learn or consider or contribute? i am going to start taking pictures again. i am not sure yet of what, but i have to do it. i am also going to start writing on a regular basis rather than just taking notes about what others are saying. virtually none of what i have been writing down has been garbage, because i have been blessed with a fair share of discernment, but i need to give something back. to whom? also not sure of that. i hope there are people who want to hear it. no, i believe there are.

desmemoriada

i had to learn this word last year because it was becoming a part of who i am. forgetful. i had at least three fabulous ideas for writing these past three days, and i foolishly thought that i was actually going to remember them until i had internet access again. and i had the good, old-fashioned journal in the same room with me at the time. it would have been so easy. alas! i did not write the ideas down, and perhaps they are lost forever. hopefully not, because i DO remember thinking at the time, "this is brilliant and poignant and is bound to be interesting to somebody...". i am awfully curious about what this week is going to be like at school. i am terribly uninterested in what i am supposed to be teaching about, so i hope that i can transmit excitement to the kids -- they are bound to like it all. soon, i will have to write about the bizarre encounter that i had with a stranger standing in line at Chipotle last week. all i wanted to do was order my burrito and eat it in peace while reading my new favorite book, "Boundaries In Dating". whilst all the while wondering why there seems to be a boundary BETWEEN me and dating. actually, i know why i am not dating. i am not prepared. and that is just fine. doing something like that while unprepared is setting oneself up for major disaster. and i have done that. and i do not want to do it again. i must go to bed now. i am clean and tidy and quite sleepy. but i will read first. because i love it.

slap ass crazy

why do i do this to myself? why do i wait until the last minute to do whatever it is that i need to do? and why do i almost never sacrifice what i WANT to do to make time for the things that should have priority? because i'm me. and how do some of the most sought-after people seem to keep ascending higher and higher even though almost every cog in their wheel of a posse is rusty? seriously. i had some semi-brilliant thoughts the other day, wrote them down in some random notebook, and i have no idea where the thoughts or the notebook are. not good. someday, someone will find the vast collection of random notebooks, and perhaps they will appropriate my thoughts for their own and be the millionaire i've yet to become. if you are close to me, you are probably thinking, "my aren't we caustic tonight?". truly, it has more to do with the full moon, menses and having my saturday night schedule interrupted. interrupted by a third party, that is. the 2nd party was on the way over and mistakenly took a call from the third party which threw everything off by over an hour. when the 2nd party's reputation for punctuality is not exactly stellar. but we've talked about it, and we are both supposed to be making attempts at changing our ways. spontaneity and tardiness do not mix very well. i went for drinks and happy hour food yesterday afternoon with some compadres from work. 99 cent margaritas and hot chicken wings. (no i was not at hooters). i made the horrible mistake of not completely unpacking myself when i moved here in july. i got reasonably unpacked, and then i got comfortable and extremely busy. now i just have boxes behind every closet door. but i've scheduled a dinner party for friday september 30th, so now i have a goal. happy. then there will not be the burden of the moon, the menses or the movie-night-debacle. if you are a teacher or have small children that you would like to teach at home, you can learn SO much by looking at the Videos on Demand at www.learner.org

words unearthed

if you know me very well, at all, you will find this anecdote both amusing and familiar: while searching for a completely unrelated item yesterday, i came across an old writing workbook. some things seemed worth publishing, so here goes: (i know, it's probably against everything that little, brown stands for, but i used two colons in the preceding sentence...shoot me). sometime in spring 2001: Anxiety about the next stage Breaks my Concentration Diminishes my sense of self Elevates my level of Frustration God is feeling far from my Heart I'm searching for the true Juxtaposition of life and love Keeping it inside Leaves me feeling alone Making everyone else a character Never makes me feel better Often out of sorts Plainly looking for answers Questions look for me Repeat themselves systematically Truth dances alone Understanding it all Veiling itself With my permission Xciting xtreme xccentricities Yearning for yin and yang Zap 5 October 2000 Aggravation Besets my soul Covered up, Defenseless Energy relinquished Featuring my angst, Gravity fails, Heart resigns I'm at a loss... Just set me free Keep me safe. Laughing Means Never Opening Presents to myself. Quietness quells Resentment. Statues feel more Tranquility. Underneath, Vibrance Waits. Xi minus Yin yang equals Zero. (no date, 2000-2001) Self worth Evades me Covers and shades me Reflections don't show me Except for in darkness Take all the memories Sort through them gently Remember Everything From the beginning Understand with my heart Grasp the things worth winning Evoke the best me People determine what Really they see Often they are wrong Given their view of me Repetition and reflection Even seem far from reach Show me the answers Show me to me 9 October 2000 Making new friends Old ones remain Visits abound Interests engage Never a loss Grieving is okay Remember the school bus Every day a new book Always in another world Discovering Innocence Needs Gratified Melancholy Understanding Smart Inside Credibility

putting it together

only yesterday (friday september 2) did i allow myself to see post-Katrina images, moving or still. and i am pleased with that decision. i placed my name on a volunteer list yesterday to help with the influx of refugees, but i have not received a call.

fear is the opposite of faith

so, today, i continued my ongoing quest for a church to become a part of here in the area, and upon leaving the second service i attended today, i called a friend and lamented, "i hate trying to find a new place to go to church -- it feels like dating, and i hate dating!". she graciously and verbally understood me, and we talked about how we both wished that i could just wiggle my nose and find the perfect fit here. something odd that i am sensing in some of the places i am visiting is almost an apologetic tone from the pastor/teachers when they ask or direct the people to look into the Scriptures. it's Wednesday now, and i must continue to consider this topic. i have much more to say, but i am so tired that i cannot organize my little thoughts. more later.

a really bizarre collage of summer photos. 2005.

the all-time greatest small group. www.cypressvalley.org

the fam.

me and my two KK�s.

just a few fun pics!

bliss

i may or may not have any idea about how to specifically teach a kindergarten class, but i do have quite a bit of knowledge of how to love my students. today, i started my official training with the staff of my new school, and i have ridden a rollercoaster of emotions throughout the day that i would not trade for the entire world. while my previous few years of teaching have taken me on rollercoaster rides of varying degrees of terror, i have yet to experience such a genuine and collective expression of true empathy and understanding of the children we will welcome into the microcosm of our classrooms one week from today.

Super Tyrone

just got back from a nice little jaunt to nashville, music city, u.s.a. had planned to spend some time with my dad and step mom, but they were overwhelmed with some work they were in town doing. i don't really know how to put in words all of the silly adventures i had while there for less than 72 hours, but for starters, i will hook you up to look at this band i swindled my way in to see on friday night. and that is all i will tell you about friday night. http://www.supert.com/ my friend jeff played a show on saturday night that was outstanding and big fun. of course, i was still tired from aforementioned friday night, but we had a good time anyway. will write more, with all the frightening details later, but right now, even though the sun is still not completely below the horizon, i am signing off. back to work in the morning!

not-so-sleeping beauty

12:47 a.m., and i am starting my new job in less than 8 hours. "hi, i'm the new kindergarten teacher. what? big black circles? um, no i am not using drugs. but thanks for asking." i should have done a giant 3 mile walk tonight to wear myself down. instead, i unpacked more boxes and was reminded of how i was one book case short when i broke down the last apartment to move here. ack. maybe if i turn on the fan, it will make me sleepy. maybe if this giant knot were not pulsating over top of my right shoulder blade. it's an anxiety know. i know. about what? about the $7 U.S. Dollars i am about to have to last me almost an entire month. that should be interesting. no, really, i love beans and rice. daily. so, what shall i encounter on my first day? lots of fresh faces. teachers who have never been in charge of their own classroom. i did discover the other day that my immediate neighbor in my new school is one of said brand new teachers, so at least there will be one person nearby who knows less than i do, as a matter of fact. and i think i will be the only bilingual teacher on my grade level. yikes. oh, well, at least there will be no one to compare me with on a regular basis. at least proximity-wise. am chatting with pal online, and i hate to say this, but i should be sleeping.

diarios de motocicleta, parte dos

so i just watched motorcycle diaries for the third time in six months or so. this time, i just bought it. it really makes me want to ride on the back of a bike with someone i enjoy all about south america. or even mexico. although i think more south would be a little more lush and new to me. how do i make that happen?

June 11th, 2005 with pal Jeff Steele after his performance at The Weisman Center Presents...Words and Voices, Marshall, TX, USA.

fantasías

i'm getting more and more in touch with the starving artist phenomenon. although, clearly, i am not starving, i am working in a limited funds situation, at least for the next couple of months. today, i went out to pick up the saturday dallas morning news from my leafy green yard, and i brought it in to read over a few cups of coffee. and i was completely overwhelmed. sort of the same feeling you get when you go off to college for the first time, and you realize you are surrounded by the top 5% of every graduating class in america. no more big fish little pond, if that had previously applied to your life place. there are millions of multi-cultural opportunities. even in choosing what grocery store to shop in. millions of recipes to try. millions of art installations. i read the whole thing, front to back, and i sat stunned. i have been living for the past three years in a situation very much unlike this one, and i had to stop and pray and ask God to help me focus on being who He wants me to be. and to make wise choices about what to do with my time and where to seek my place. but i still have been nursing a few new fantasies. thus the title of this entry. first, in the paper yesterday, i learned that there is a new IKEA store opening in nearby Frisco, Texas. (all gift cards and donations appreciated!) that's big fun, because it is simple and affordable and will likely be unapproachable until after i start making my real new salary! which made me start thinking about this funny girl i met in nashville once who declared, "if i'm not married by the time i'm 35, i'm just going to start registering for stuff i want to see if people will give it to me out of pity." too funny. second, i am listening to some music this morning, and i'm really being encouraged to re-start guitar lessons which i took in nashville years ago from a fabulous teacher named rob jackson. he was taken aback at how quickly i took to the guitar, and how i had hands large enough to make bar chords, "most girls can't make a good bar chord. you're good." and why am i sitting here in this house with fine acoustics not practicing the guitar? because i'm a chicken, i guess. so i took that fantasy one step further and said, "well, if i really hone that skill, then i can take voice lessons to remind me how to sing properly and find that voice i know is in there and maybe actually sing in front of people." sheryl crow was well into her thirties before anybody really cared who she was, right? i don't have any need to be famous, i've seen how that milks the joy out of too many talented people. but, i think it would be fun to sit around a camp fire with friends and have a valid contribution every now and then. which led me to ponder, "what are the first songs i would learn how to sing and play?" should fantasy find its way to fruition? 1. broken things / julie miller 2. you don't even know who i am / gretchen peters 3. delta dawn / alex harvey & larry collins 4. echoes of love / kim richey & tim krekel 5. mil besos / emma elena valdelamar 6. you take me for granted / leona williams 7. from the ashes / austin cunningham & hilary lindsey 8. less like scars / sara groves 9. if you want me to / ginny owens 10. i would be stronger than that / gary burr we'll see. that's all i have for now. time to continue my self-pedicure.

Annette is the lovely and VERY interesting lady with an omelette shop in the French Quarter in New Orleans. Go eat there. It's by the Chateau Sonesta on Iberville.

packing boxes is not my idea of fun

i'm sure it appeals to someone. somewhere. why that person is not my soulmate and here supervising this godforsaken move preparation is beyond me. i am writing to distract myself from the fact that i have packed nothing since returning home from church tonight AND from the other fact that i really just want to go through the drive-through at taco bell. i will not go to taco bell at 10:44 pm. i will not go to taco bell at 10:44 pm. i will not go to taco bell at 10:44 pm. my friend karen came to visit me friday night, and we went to get a drink at the local bar. it was fairly low-key upon our arrival, but then the crowd picked up a little. and my extremely overt admirer walked in. ack. i guess if there is only one nice bar in town, you have to understand that you are going to continue to run in to the same people over and over. and smoke-free is worth it to me. to sum it all up, i will transcribe four text messages said admirer sent to my cell phone (no, i did NOT give him my number. it is published on promotional materials for a music series that i manage, so don't judge me!): (oh and all messages are transcribed exactly as written as much as it hurts me to not edit the grammar): 1) your beautiful 2) your even more beautiful than mere words can say 3) U R! Believe in your beauty i do 4) Damn I wish I could speak Spanish (why? so you could be annoying in 2 languages?) the longest conversation i have had with this man, mind you, consisted primarily of discussion of spiritual matters and the life of Christ. so i really don't believe i've encouraged him in any other realm. i refuse to become the girl who is just rude to people -- how would i ever know if i was throwing away an opportunity to effect an eternal change in someone's life? yoiks. i'm concentrating really hard trying not to let the fact that my move is next week overwhelm me. or the fact that a silly little thing called money is going to be more than a minor obstacle for the next three months. it will work out. where, oh where, is the easy money fairy when you need her? speaking of, the natural vanilla bean ice cream fairy dropped by last week and spread a lot of joy. and hips. see http://www.bluebell.com/icecream_flavors.htm for one of the greatest reasons in the world to live in texas. although i hear it's making its way 'round the nation. and i just learned that for the low, low price of $89 (US Dollars), you can ship 4 half-gallons anywhere in the U.S. good lord, would someone (other than, say, delta burke or kirstie alley) really do that? that is more than $22 per half gallon for ice cream? isn't crack cheaper? that's two printer ink cartridges! that's a barrel-and-a-half of oil. more importantly, that's about seven tubes of MAC lipstick, not including tax. and if you take the lipstick route (www.maccosmetics.com), your arse won't grow. the taco bell urge has almost dissipated. i've packed almost my entire kitchen. i think i left out 3 boxes of pasta and 2 bags of microwave popcorn. highly unmotivating, even for a midnight snack. i'm rambling about horribly unimportant things. see below if you are looking for poetry, philosophical musings or real reactions to real life! i'm going to sleep now. no tacos. no packing. no worries.

large print edition

today i found the font i will use to make my change of address cards. and yes, i will send them via the u.s. postal service. for old time's sake. perhaps you just felt the earth move under your feet. i packed a box. with towels and bed linens. not all of either but enough to call it a portion of the mission accomplished. what attracts us to each other? sameness? or opposite-ness? the talents we have or the talents we covet? certainly, it's to be understood, don't you think? why can it be so blinding? is it that everyone does not have some passion? or is it that some embrace their passions and let their passions embrace them back? and then they are unavoidable and transparent. why are so many uncomfortable with their passion? from whence comes that kind of oppression? it seems to me that what happens more often than not is that one sees another consumed by their passion and rather than excavating their own, they decide to resent the former. we should all make it our mission to show the world the joy of following your heart. and love them for it. maybe it's the temptation of the all-or-nothing way of life. responsibility has its place. but all the responsibility in the world in the absence of loving your life sort of renders the fulfillment of the obligations lifeless. it's a few hours past when i started this writing now, and my mind has clearly jumped the track. i'll ruminate on the topic a little more and be back when i'm all here.

holding hands

does anyone else but me truly believe that holding hands is one of the single most intimate acts that two people can engage in together? i truly do. i think it speaks volumes. louder than sex, louder than kissing on the mouth. why? i don't know. perhaps it has something to do with the innocence of it. or the promise of what is to come. sometimes, it fulfills the need. maybe it's to do with the sameness of our hands. or the mirroring effect. the fit. somewhere along the way, the way i hold hands evolved into something very special. that is where my hands go. some hands fit better together than others.

Taco-Thon 2005, San Felipe, Guanajuato. Did you know there are NO calories or fat in tacos consumed at 11:30 pm while in Mexico?

Tradition Vs. Betrayal

(click on the title above to see a great photo gallery of the May 2005 mission trip!) my words have been locked up inside of me for over two months now, and i have decided to let them come out and play. since i last wrote, i have resigned one job, secured a new one, given notice on an apartment, found a house in my new city, heard some incredible music, been to mexico, heard more incredible music and had some very peaceful days and nights. in that order. the title here? i was recently in mexico on a mission trip and as seems the pattern, i find myself very focused when visiting there, whatever the mission. this time, it was actually a mission. a mission trip with my church (www.cypressvalley.org) in a little town in Guanajuato, called San Felipe. about the size of my own hometown and also famous for hand-turned pottery. when i was in school in mexico last summer, i was enrolled in a mexican folklore course taught by a highly educated man named sergio. it was in that class that i first became aware of just how deeply steeped in mysticism and superstition the mexican version of catholicism is. i was thinking about those lectures, and it occurred to me a startling, yet not coincidental, distinction: in the Spanish language, there is only one letter's difference for the words meaning "tradition" and "betrayal". the letter D. for "Dios" perhaps? i might be giving away a Masters' thesis topic here, but it just struck me, especially there where the tradition of the rituals and religion associated with the people's upbringing has a grip on their souls that only God can loosen. i was visiting with a little girl there who had said that she wanted to be baptized, and we were having a little Q&A. one of my Q's was, "if your mom tells you that you are not to leave the house and go outside to play, but you decide to do it anyway and disobey her, what will happen?", and she responded with real conviction, "i'll go to hell". chilling. let me back up. on Saturday May 28th, we left east Texas on a bus decorated all about its exterior with a rainbow. we might have known that we were faced with more adventure than usual when it took us two-and-a-half hours to go the first twenty-three miles. that bottle-neck shook loose, and we went another fifty or sixty miles and encountered another. then we (a 33 passenger bus and a giant truck pulling a trailer) made these extremely cowboy moves that resulted in 180º turns on the interstate and led us to the alternate route. that was the bulk of the first adventure. stop to eat in waco. my turn to drive. the truck pulling the trailer. as fate would have it, the first part was smooth sailing but shortly thereafter, it began to rain. the torrential kind. and i could barely see the road. and anyone who knows me well knows that there are very few things on this planet that put fear in my heart. driving in the rain while being responsible for other human lives is certainly at the top of the list. we survived. on to the border. we had a spanish speaker on the bus, and i was the designated spanish speaker on the truck. we pull into the customs area/border crossing, and we go through one checkpoint. then we get to the next. david (who over the course of this account will be dubbed "king david") gets out to talk to their agent. i, having freshly applied my new favorite lip gloss (MAC "wonderstruck"), jump down and go to see if david needs any help communicating. i see that he has the keys poised to unlock the padlock on the trailer and swings the doors open wide. i talk with the agent in spanish a little, he asks me what we have loaded on the trailer and what we are going to use it for, and begins verbally considering if he is going to make us unload everything so that he can confirm. and then ...he was wonderstruck. and he motions to david to shut and lock the trailer and proceed to the next step. we get back in the truck and dave says, "whatever you do, do not lose that lip gloss!". we pull in and park our vehicle and wait for the bus carrying the remainder of our 22-person party. we see them in the distance, and we see them being detained. finally they come to us, and they have been given their tourist visa applications. i am handed one that i filled out the previous december, and i am to find out if i can still use that one or if i have to fill out a new one. we go inside, and i walk up to the counter where the silver-haired man is sitting. i hand him my december visa, and he begins to scold me harshly, telling me i should NOT still have possession of this document, that i am in violation of the law, that my visa expired seven days after it was issued and that i will be slapped with a fine. una multa. a strong one. una muy fuerte. fabulous. fabuloso. so i turn around, while trying to show him respect so he can finish screaming at me, to try and tell my three other friends who are returning with me from the december trip to rip up and/or hide their old applications. one multa fuerte is enough. no need for 20% of the team to be punished. so we are shuttled through the visa application process. i just remembered in this instance that we were not asked for our passports. just our money. generally, we are asked to turn in our passports with the visa application so that they can put a face or at least an original legal document with each visa applicant's form. i don't remember doing that this time. unlike december, however, i do remember our being charged $22 U.S. per person for entry into the country of Mexico. on to securing the vehicle permission stickers. the vehicle permission stickers. you should recognize that this process is begun in confusion, for even though they have their service windows identified with giant numbers -- 1, 2, 3, 4 -- they are placed in reverse order -- 4, 3, 2, 1. somewhat unsettling, but not as much so as the process of working your way through them. we secure the truck permission first. not without incident but certainly quicker that what you are about to read. then the bus permission. first of all, every vehicle that is going into mexico has to have this sticker. if you make it in without it, congratulations, but your vehicle will be seized, no questions asked, if you do not have it just below and to the left side of your rearview mirror. 4, 3, 2, 1. once you get to 3, you begin considering a sigh of relief. and then they send you to the copy stand to get a copy of one of your pieces of paper. then you go back to the front of the line, which, even though it's policy, undoubtedly enrages all the hordes of people who have been standing in line forever. the agent's cell phone rings. she answers. no she does not. oh yes, she does. and she giggles. and she turns to the side. and chats. at this point, i'm going on fifteen hours without a shower, which is not terribly uncommon considering how busy and ambitious we Americans are. but, i am fifteen hours without a shower, and i am guaranteed at least another twelve hours in the same condition. she sees the impatience on my face, perhaps. or maybe she finished her conversation. she puts her phone down and tries to get us through window 3 so we can go on to 4, and there is a problem. she asks someone to show us where our bus is. he goes out and scribbles a few numbers on a piece of paper. he returns. she tries again. shakes her head. back to 1. go make copies. scribble down numbers. back to 2. make some more copies. what about this guy? where's the bus you brought here in december. oh yeah, all the air conditioning stopped working, so we brought another one. you cannot get another vehicle permission because you did not cancel that one in december. can anyone else here take out the permission in their name? perhaps. wonderstruck. wonderstruck. wonderstruck. there's no place like home. there's no place like home. wonderstruck apparently has no same sex powers unless you use it expressly for that purpose. we run to get someone else whose name is at least on the permission letter from the church. here he is. so, thankfully, we use the written language barrier to convince the agent(s. yes, agents. there are multiple puberty-pushing officials now on our case, tossing their heads back and laughing smugly from time to time). so now we have copies of all the wrong documents because we have changed permission-getters. back to copy station. back to 1. back to 2. go to the head of the line. ...to be continued the long and the short of it is...wait, there was no short of it. we were detained for six-and-a-half hours trying to unravel the mystery. after our third or fourth pass through the numbered windows, someone comes from behind the counter to peruse our documents then says, as if surprised herself, "oh. this is a bus. yes, it's the same bus you have sent three different agents outside to confirm is a bus. we do not issue vehicle permissions for buses in this office. are you kidding me? since when? about two months ago. the law changed. we did not get the memo. where do we get said bus permission now then? at the federal palace, about six blocks from here. six blocks from here. walking. because we do not have permission to drive our vehicle. walking through the bullet-riddled, drug-war-torn streets of nuevo laredo, mexico. gringos. (http://www.nytimes.com/aponline/international/AP-Mexico-Lawless-City.html?). but the federal palace does not open until 8am. it's 5:30 in the morning. so we sit around. most everyone boards the bus, and i remain inside with the ones who are involved in the vehicle near-transactions. i climb the stairs to go to the restroom, introduce myself to a guard, and i ask him where is the federal palace and how do we get there from here. he explains it to me. then says he would be happy to be our guide to getting there when his shift ends. in an hour-and-a-half. Jorge. so, we wander over to the in-house restaurant -- it's like they know they are going to keep you waiting, so they provide sustenance -- and decide on plain coffee. outside to get fresh air and drink it. time passes. jorge's free. so, david, russ, martin and i take off walking with a complete Mexican stranger in the general direction of the federal palace. i chat with jorge. he asks me if i'm single. and which one of these gentlemen is my father. perhaps he's going to ask for my hand right there in the street. mi vida loca. we arrive at the federal palace, which is not very palacial at all. and it's also not very open. why? it's Sunday. it does not open until 8am on Monday. great. however, in a fit of extreme hopefulness, we circle the building twice. and look at the closed for business sign. twice. we confirm with a local policeman that it is a fruitless mission. at least for today. we walk back through the war-torn streets of nuevo laredo at sun-up, and we thank jorge for his time and efforts and re-enter the customs building. new strategy? wait for a shift change. another hour. we avoid the scary old man from the first phase of the experience, and i find another gentlemen who looks far gentler. he dispenses a little hope and notes that he will have to consult his supervisor who apparently does not punch the same clock as he does and who is likely to arrive in another quarter-hour. so we sit. and loiter. i check back in. another member of personnel asks to go inspect the bus. we are given written, special dispensation to take out a vehicle permission for the bus, and we are sent back to the head of the line. window 1. we get as far as 3, and one of the same agents looks at us quizzically, as if to say, haven't i seen you here before? haven't i denied you entry once today already?. she takes all of our papers, marches us back down to the customs window and asks what the special note is all about. and says that it does not really clarify that she can give us the sticker. her writes a little more. stamps it again. and she seems satisfied. back to 1. a boy comes up and begins hand-writing a vehicle permission form, takes our payment and hands me the form through the little 3-inch opening in the glass. i notice that he has not signed it. which undoubtedly renders it worthless. i point it out. he laughs. as if his oversight would not have cost us our bus and however many thousands of dollars it would have taken to get 22 people back the the United States without it. he signs it, returns it. i go to the bathroom, and we roll out of there. at about 10am. 22 hours without a shower. only 12 more to go. i never knew how much i enjoyed being clean. on we go, pretty much without incident. that's the story of the point of entry. the rest will have to wait.

A true moment. A nice summary of many many years of friendship and late-night talks at the Waffle Houses of Music City.

Here's a glimpse of the strange duck-age that we encountered at Nick and Rudy's for a wine tasting. weeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Waffle Houses and Wine Tastings

that is the best way i can sum up my spring break trip to nashville. in fact, i could actually use it to sum up my entire former career and life in nashville. last saturday, i set out in the VW to drive halfway 'round the world to tennessee (mainly the part between memphis and nashville feels like half way round the world), to visit some old friends and a little bit of family. i did not really have any agenda for the trip other than that i wanted to eat some great food, visit and hear some live music. i did all of those things. a few of them a little too much! the first night, i hung out with my sister until she had to tuck in to prepare for work the next morning, then i went to visit another friend who got home around 10:30 FROM work. we had a lovely visit, listened to music, drank a little red wine and talked about boys. and, you know, no matter how much you grow up and how much the boys grow up, the 'talking about boys' always feels a little bit the same. it's not a criticism...just a reality. so, you would suppose that, after all these years, when our conversations about boys continue to focus on the same issues, sometimes in the same order, we girls would be advanced enough to learn from our past experiences. yet, speaking for myself, it does not appear to be so. is it the proverbial hopeless romanticism? is it hopefulness period? an X-chromosome-related belief that this time it will be right? i suppose relationships are one of the most constantly changing yet staying the same aspects of our lives. they follow patterns whether we recognize them or not. and in saying that, i wonder, when i am teaching my little three-year-old students to recognize AB patterns (red, yellow, red, yellow, red, yellow), am i giving them a jump start on figuring out their future relationships? is that why i have not fully figured it out yet? because i did not go to pre-k or kindergarten, and i had to become aware of AB patterns all on my own? possible. of course, now, as a grown woman, i know that only God knows what pattern every single thing and every single person will follow. darn free will. anyway, we had a nice time -- digging around in thoughts -- my own and those of others -- is one of my favorite pastimes. the next day, i went to one of my favorite coffee shops with my friend and had breakfast and then returned home to rest up for a night of live music. we went to hear a great songwriter and musician names maia sharp. check out her music at http://www.maiasharp.com. one of my friends was supposed to be playing with her, but she did not show. which made me sad because i love her and her music, too. then, for a great historical moment, we drove out southeast of town to meet our friends jeff and rick at the waffle house for rick's farewell to nashville waffle-fest. he did not even know i was in town, so it was a special surprise. we sat with them for quite a while, eating too much and visiting with the very colorful staff of the Bell Road waffle house. Kay and Rick were the servers, I think. (I know I'll be corrected if I'm wrong here). a few tidbits from that interactions. first, you must know that quite unusually, they were cleaning up and preparing to shut down the griddle for a super-Ajax-ing due to inspectors coming by to check out the place later that day. we remarked to kay that she shared jeff's last name, and she quickly retorted, "it was my husband's last. i'd already bought the house before we got the divorce." then, kay the server said re: her phone number too, "I was gonna change my number, but it took me forever to remember this one. hell it's easier to get rid of him." then, in a special culinary moment, she said, regarding the mess they were cleaning up over there on the griddle, "all that grease that comes out of that kitchen, y'all will never want to eat at the waffle house again." at that point, i realized that if i did not whip out my pen and paper, those moments would be tragically lost forever. monday. what did i do on monday? here is where i lose track. oh, i went to eat thai food with my sister, and we both agreed that, no matter how spice you like your food, always go with mild or medium at the Royal Thai. then we went to walk our friend's dog, where i discovered that i am the only person on planet earth whose photo is not stuck to her refrigerator, so i left her a nasty note scribbled on a paper towel that i stuck in her door. then, we went to visit with a friend at Sony, and we caught up with him and his family and their goings-on. he let us pilfer his CD giveaway boxes, so we are knee deep in new music, which was nice for the drive home. he's a good friend and a good man -- one of those people you are truly glad you met, however that happened all those years ago. then we met a few other friends for dinner at an Irish pub. fish and chips there. and a nice pinot grigio. we learned, by accident, that bars and restaurants sell out of their limited wine selections by the end of the weekend, first of the week. because on sunday and monday, our first choices had been all drunk up by people who got there earlier than we did. so we second-choiced our way through a bottle of Jacob's Creek something-or-other on Monday that cost us almost twice as much. it might be a marketing ploy, come to think of it. "yes, ma'am, we are all sold out of the $14 wine. all we have is the $26 wine." sure. so that was fun, and we spent a few hours laughing and reminiscing with them. always a delight. some of the best folks i've ever known. on to tuesday. honestly, i have no idea. except for in the evening, my cousin came over for dinner, and my sister cooked a lovely casserole of chicken spaghetti. on wednesday, i lunched with my friend john over an Indian food buffet. we talked about music and film, as we do when we get together. it's rare to find someone whose taste you trust in those two areas. am i wrong? he allowed me into the "prize room" where i got a few new CDs for the road. then it rained. then i returned to karyn's place, invited helena over, and we talked for a long time about finding peace in this world and learning to be faithful even though it does not come naturally in a world so full of pain and questions. we shared some stories, cried a little and lounged around watching the film being julia with annette bening and jeremy irons which was really quite good. i think i had to stop watching during the last few minutes to get ready to go to a wine tasting. which was a bit of a farce, but we had some nice cheese and were repeated accosted by older gentlemen of various ethnic backgrounds. enter paul, the russian. too weird to even write about, i've decided. needless to say, we were the cutest girls there, the least worn-out, anyway, which drew us a lot of attention. that we did not necessarily want. we almost came to the decision that we might have been the only women there who were not "on the clock". yikes. after that, we went to an old haunt, "the sportsman's grille" for a catfish basket and cheeseburger. both delightful. talked more and shared more stories. thursday, i spent with one of my favorite families on planet earth. they have a new baby i'd yet to meet, and we spent half a day catching up and talking about all things. my friend, the mama, has started a new business making fabulous skin products for other mamas and their babies. you can buy some at www.babybearshop.com. truly special. that night, i went with some friends to eat cajun food and then to a songwriter's night/benefit at the wildhorse saloon. four of the most talented ever: craig wiseman, rivers rutherford, leslie satcher and bob dipiero. it should have been splendid, but sound problems and a yappy hostess kind of ruined the entire effect. and i left more bothered than uplifted. however, afterward, we went to get some hot Krispy Kremes and had a hilarious moment in the drive-through with the octogenarian on the microphone, and it all seemed worth it. i packed up my things and prepared to head westward on friday morning. which i did. and it was a nice and sunny drive with lots of new music (some of what i have liked so far are miranda lambert, trent willmon, butch walker, bobby taylor, john legend...more on all that later).

spring break 2005 1,348 miles into the journey. somewhere on I-40 west. arkansas, i think. 

mile one thousand three hundred forty eight

am home from the journey. but am too tired and disorganized to really write at the moment. so i am uploading a photo instead. more later.

spring break, my style

so i decided yesterday to just kind of go ahead and drive to nashville to see my sister rather than fight the stand-by lists at the airport. and it was a beautiful day today, and i listened to music rather loudly. i did have to stop in germantown for a frappucino and a new bonnie raitt live cd. well, an old bonnie raitt live cd. but new to me. enjoyable. i am getting tired now, but i am going to visit with a friend in a few minutes when she gets home from work at the airport. i already washed my face and braided my hairs. might even put on pajamas before going over there. that's the kind of girl i am.

more than anything in this world...

in THIS world, that is. it is 12:17 am, and i have been asleep briefly tonight once already, but now i am fully awake. i am three days away from having ten days off of work, and i am still not sure what i am going to do with the time. i was introducing a friend to www.sidestep.com last night, a wonderful travel price comparison web site, and i checked a fare to mexico city for this coming saturday, and much to my surprise, i found that it only cost $265 from houston. only $390 from little shreveport, louisiana. oh, how i would love to go. but there is the dilemma of where to stay. a friend offered me his family's place, but they are engulfed in the passing of his grandmother, so it no longer feels like the right thing to do to take him up on his offer. but how nice it would be. i would be able to experience Holy Week first-hand, something i have always wanted to do, being a Spanish speaker and teacher of the language and all. i have been overwhelmed lately by the realization that so many of us here on earth work so hard and expend so much energy trying to manage our lives and our problems and those of others that we seldom stop to admit that we are simply not in charge of it all. we (and i include myself very definitely in this subject pronoun) make ourselves crazy with the trying to figure it all out and the wondering if we did the right thing. we are focusing on decision-making in our small group study in the student ministry at church, and every week, i feel like i am the most attentive student. or at least that i should be. and i am the discussion leader! it is amazing the way that God works to present us with opportunities to exercise what he has taught us. i am praying about my work and some very special friends and family members who are in need of direction as well. i am praying about what is my next professional move. graduate school? moving to Mexico? moving to a bigger city? getting involved in parent education? sitting still? moving on? see, here i am doing it! but the good news is that i am allowing it all to come to me gradually. i have no set deadlines, and i have no intention of barreling through to the wrong decision like i did about this time last year. i ran into a friend last weekend who was really stressed about her work, and we stood in the grocery store sharing stories, only to find out that we both have the same issues and some almost-identical personal concerns. why don't we talk about it more often? why don't we share our weaknesses? and our successes? do friends not have the right to burden their friends with their problems anymore? isn't that what we are here for? to support? and to listen? and to advise? i think so. i hope that i am that kind of friend. i love having that kind of friend. sometimes, i do not even need anything more than a little quality time with a trusted friend. it is amazing how helpful just a few hours can be for me. or for someone else if i salvage the time to spend with them. it is truly ironic to me that in a world where we can make phone calls for free over the internet to communist countries, where we can type instant messages with someone halfway around the world and we can have instantaneous communication in various forms with friends and loved ones and even strangers, that we seem to be becoming more and more reclusive in our actual one-on-one human face-to-face contact. why is that? is the distance a comfort to us? a buffer of sorts that keeps us from getting too emotionally close to someone while being physically close to them as well? are we becoming far too comfortable with our parallel lives? comforted by sharing the extremely personal in an even more extremely impersonal manner? i believe it may be true.

experience, regrets, mistakes, stepping stones

they all seen so interwoven, but i believe that they are distinct. i do not believe in regrets. i believe in acknowledging mistakes and using them as stepping stones to find your way to experience, which is what should truly be our jumping off point to start each new day. i struggle regularly with how to share my experiences in such a way as to humbly recount them in hopes that someone else can see them for what they are: stepping stones, part of a worldwide pattern. human nature is human nature. even if someone is ten years older than i am, i can look to their life's experiences and somehow match some of my own to theirs, and if i am attentive enough, i can look at their path and that of my own -- or the choices i am about to have to make -- and i will undoubtedly be able to recognize a pattern. something that occurs almost exactly as it has occurred in millions of people's lives before me. and after me. how do we share those experiences without sounding like a know-it-all? without sounding like someone's mother or father? why are we all so stubborn that we cannot recognize ourselves voluntarily putting ourselves into the same pattern that led us to such deep sadness and trouble once or many times before? when i can answer this question, i will be truly wise. and hopefully, that wisdom will give me the words and the ability to help others to seek for themselves.

???????????????????????

like a falling feather i drift without direction yet somehow, i always land in a moment of perfection while i sit here with my eyes closed tight i consider myself so blessed i wish i could make the world understand this place of silent rest my eyes are open now but still i do not look where i am told to find the way that place, that gift, that nook one thing i can say i've learned is how to give it up to not concern myself with what i cannot change i have to leave it be it's much too big for me i hand it over to my true lover and sing myself to sleep.

alphapoemorama, part deux

Arrogance Brings forth Confusion Determining Everyone else's Fortune Grieves me Harangues me Intrigues me Jostles my mind Kindred spirits Leave me Mystified Needing Openness Placation Quivers Reminds me of Stupid Things I've Unlearned Vigilance Wasted by eXcavating Your presence in my Zoo of memories.

alphapoemarama

After 12 hours Becoming what I loathe Could it hurt anymore? Determined to overcome Excedrin is my friend Finish me off Give my daughter the shot! Help me to my bed Is that all there is? Just help me sleep Keep me Lingering Meanwhile Nudge me Onward and upward Praying like there's no tomorrow Questions answered Reminding myself of You Studying Teaching Understanding Wondering eXamining You Zealously.

Entertaining Angels

would it not be amazing to discover that, unbeknownst to you, you had entertained angels at some point in your life? or that you had been an angel to someone else? wow. i have decided to open my mind up, officially, to the possibility of a move and/or career modification. and my official position is that if someone wants to hire me and needs an answer from me when i am not prepared to give them one, then i will tell them to ask their question of someone else and to make their decision notwithstanding my response. so there. i have been having these weird episodes of what feels like arrested circulation and weird fluctuations in body temperature. i'm too young for the change, right? i certainly like to think so. tonight was our last night in the study of hebrews. what an amazing journey. i need to go back and read all my notes and just camp on them for days. so it stays fresh. i bought the new lee ann womack CD, and it's amazing. it's called there's more where that came from and everything about it is designed like an old country record from the sixties/seventies. photography, songs and graphic design. i love it. i called a friend of mine the other night while he was playing on the Grammys to check in and, as an aside, to give him permission to tell jamie foxx that i, indeed, would go out with him, if he asked. some people can do everything. i must go now as i am about to fall out of my chair with fatigue. have had bad headaches too. will check back in with the doctor tomorrow.

Sometimes, You Just Know

So, I have been down with fever and achiness since Wednesday last, and today, as I was singing in church, it occurred to me that God had taken me out of work for those few days to prevent me from acting rashly in a very uncomfortable work situation. I truly believe that. God weakened my body to strengthen my spirit. And my resolve. The previous week and a half had been very stressful because I had been required to leave my students and my co-teacher with a less-than-humane group of people posing as educators and caregivers. And upon my return, I tragically realized that in that short four days, they had retrained themselves, using their basic instincts, to respond only to people who scream at, threaten or otherwise dominate them into submission, at whatever the cost. And I was allowing myself to be retrained by them to become one of those malicious attackers. I just saw one of my little students at the local Mexican food dive, and she shyly asked me, "Maestra, when are you going to be able to come with us?", and my heart melted. They know the difference. Thanks to God for delivering us all from the horrible aftershock of their experience a few weeks ago. Tomorrow, we return, refreshed, revived and rededicated.

100 Things I Want In A Partner

created on 14 november 2004 1. a Christian 2. strong spiritual leader 3. positivity 4. financially sound 5. a lover of books 6. a great lover 7. adventuresomeness 8. likes to communicate 9. inspires me 10. challenges me 11. environmentally conscious 12. understanding 13. enjoys travel 14. loves people 15. faithfulness 16. supportive 17. thoughtful 18. enjoys writing 19. encourager 20. peaceful 21. assertive 22. admirable 23. strong values 24. God-given 25. kindness 26. healthy 27. not sarcastic 28. healthy perspective 29. sense of humour 30. enjoys films 31. good listener 32. not an addict 33. full of joy 34. likes touch 35. likes coffee shops 36. stillness 37. provocative 38. communicator 39. musical talent 40. a great writer 41. strong hands 42. great kisser 43. knowing eyes 44. pretty teeth 45. great hair 46. loves my family 47. interested in me 48. likes to drive 49. speaks spanish 50. (edit) curious 51. willing to counsel 52. not a hoarder 53. spiritually adept 54. knows me 55. defender of honour 56. great father 57. good with tools 58. passionate 59. forward-thinking 60. not sports-obsessed 61. good leader 62. nurturing 63. tolerates me 64. empathetic 65. sympathetic 66. learns from mistakes 67. understands loyalty 68. sensitive 69. enjoys great wine 70. loves to create 71. enjoys cooking 72. seeks new opportunities 73. respects my space 74. respects my privacy 75. respects my alone time 76. not jealous 77. trusting 78. complimentary 79. complementary 80. public displays of affection okay 81. sensible 82. well-balanced 83. energetic 84. awe-inspiring 85. loves God 86. full of good ideas 87. sense of urgency 88. directness 89. focused 90. literate 91. aware 92. mission-minded 93. emotionally intelligent 94. connected 95. expressive of feelings 96. open-hearted 97. sense of self 98. good self-esteem 99. confidence 100. in love with me

100 Things That Turn Me On

so, recently, i purchased a book that is supposed to inspire people like me who like to journal to greater heights of creativity. one of the chapters is called "lists of 100". and it suggests thinking of a category and then making a list of 100 things that belong in that category. quickly. here is the first one i did, dated 6 november 2004: (in no particular order, except for the order they came to my mind) 1. a great song 2. joy 3. beautifully written books 4. intelligence 5. nice wine 6. beautiful art 7. pens 8. God's love for me 9. a sexy man 10. talent 11. humility 12. perseverance 13. initiative 14. surprises 15. beautiful weather 16. the smell of a fireplace 17. solitude 18. traveling 19. learning 20. laughter 21. a singing voice 22. flirting 23. (edit) 24. massage 25. sweating 26. new makeup 27. lipstick 28. good coffee 29. sunsets 30. oceans 31. great food 32. martinis 33. passion 34. compassion 35. softness 36. xanax 37. salt and pepper hair 38. (edit) 39. (edit) 40. singing 41. writing 42. glancing 43. france 44. studying 45. knowing 46. new people 47. helping 48. serving 49. cooking 50. hot teas 51. my eyes 52. french kissing 53. chili 54. numbers 55. teaching 56. anticipating 57. courtship 58. forgiveness 59. spontaneity 60. pretty curtains 61. painting 62. writing haiku 63. smart kids 64. kindness 65. my eyebrows 66. hot lipstick 67. sheryl crow 68. memories 69. mexico 70. speaking spanish 71. learning italian 72. a fan blowing on me 73. skin on skin 74. hand on my back 75. enrique 76. memories of philippe 77. my sense of self 78. learning about the Bible 79. verbal sparring 80. power 81. being well 82. recognizing talent 83. soft sheets 84. good pillows 85. holding hands 86. walking 87. yoga 88. listening 89. sweet potato pie 90. helping parents 91. new pens 92. cohesiveness 93. real butter 94. great coffee 95. a day in the sun 96. being warm 97. scarves 98. hats 99. nice shoes 100. love

Published

it's so not a big deal, but it's almost as impressive as the first time. when i was twelve years old, i was a huge professional wrestling fan. back in the day, when the flashiest thing you saw might have been some factory-manufactured fringe Singer-sewn onto a pair of Lycra dance pants in the way of costuming or "character" development. anyway, it was fun for me, and one night, the infamous members of the Texas wrestling family, the von Erichs, came to wrestle a series of matches at the civic center in my humble hometown. i attended, along with my equally (perhaps more) fanatic friend Beth, and we had a large time. afterward, i was so impressed and inspired by their presence in my midst, that i wrote a heartfelt review of the evening's events. well, lo! and behold, the next month, there was my review published in one of the biggest national wrestling fan magazines that existed. but it was my first brush with sexism. in their magazine, i was no longer of the female gender. they truncated my otherwise feminine and girly name to its very masculine and un-dainty masculine counterpart. why? because how could a girl have such insight into such a grotesque and hideous sport? who knows? either way. tonight, i was leaving a jimmy buffett-themed party at a local bar, and i picked up a local magazine on my way out. and there were two of my favorite haiku published in its pages. random. you just never know. perhaps someone will be changed for the better upon reading them. perhaps they will line a bird cage. one cannot know or even guess. but it was fun to see it. upon second reading, i have realized that they typo'ed out one letter at the beginning of one of the haiku which renders the entire poem senseless, so here they both are in their entirety: eyes the color of coal that warms me in the fall lighting a spark ...passed along the way... going to meet the future said, 'don't i know you?'

Yet Another First

so, here it is, 2005. and i thought i was never even going to make it to 1998 all my life. i have just returned from a CVBC (www.cypressvalley.org) mission trip to San Felipe, Guanajuato, Mexico, where i was part of a 27-member team sent by our church to further some work on the church that we have planted there. we took three crews -- construction, women's study/crafts and children's study/crafts. all three did very impressive work. in the church building, door facings were constructed and installed, holes were patched, roof work was done, lighting was installed, heaters were installed, bathroom improvements were made, storage shelves were built. i'm sure there were more improvements made -- i just wish more people could have seen before and after photos! the children and women's groups worked on arts/crafts projects to use to decorate the church. the first two nights we were there, we showed (on a BIG screen) The Passion Of The Christ (with Spanish subtitles, of course) to two full houses (40 +) people, church members and other community members. on tuesday, after working for four hours to get the audio/visual kinks worked out, we ended up having to go and buy an additional DVD player from a San Felipe electronics vendor. jokingly, while preparing to pay for the player (the one we had brought was useless to us as we had somehow arrived without the remote control to operate it), i said, "...unless of course, you just want to loan it to us...". and Javier, the shop owner said, "you just need it for today and tomorrow?". i said, "yes." and he responded, "well, just buy it, and when you return it tomorrow, i will give you your money back." okay. so we did. and when we went back the next day to return it, his shop was already closed. so, feeling like he would consider me a liar, we got it back to him the next afternoon, and he was not in the shop. javier, his son, said, "are you returning a DVD player?" and i said, "yes. we came here last night, but you were closed." he asked me if i had the receipt, and i told him that one of my friends had it and that i had forgotten to get it from him. he went to the desk, withdrew 950 pesos and gave it to me. every peso we had paid him. no questions asked. amazing. only in mexico. i left javier (the dad) a nice note thanking him and blessing him for having done us the favor, and we went about our evening. on the second night, Russ asked me if i would be interested in going to León the next day to donate blood on behalf of one of the church members, Zacarías, who is scheduled to have a surgery in the next couple of months. i said, "sure." so, at 4:15 the next morning, i got up, showered (in very cold water) and jumped in the truck with six other team members, Zacarías and his wife Éster, for the 1.5 hour trip to León. when we finally found the hospital and checked in at 7:15 am, we learned that they accept donors on a lottery style basis, and they were accepting only thirty for that morning, all of which spaces had already been ticketed/claimed. so, Éster went to talk to the doctor, letting him know that she had seven potential donors from the United States who were leaving the country the next day. he issued ten more tickets, and we began the complicated process of eligibility to donate blood. in Mexico, apparently, (or at least in this place), someone who is going to have a surgery is required to rustle up twenty blood donors to give blood on his/her behalf before having surgery and twenty blood donors to give blood on his/her behalf after the surgery is completed to replenish the blood bank. the process was tiresome and lengthy. first, we had to wait for our number to be called. one at a time, we went up to a reception window to give personal information -- address, date of birth, occupation, phone number, level of education. then, we were called again to give a blood sample for typing purposes. then we sat back down in the waiting area. then, we were called into another room to have our blood pressure checked, our measurements taken and our weight checked. then we sat back down in the waiting room. then we were called, one by one, into a small private room with a doctor who asked us the series of very personal questions and, in my case anyway, spent time reviewing with me the results of my blood tests. he marveled at my good health and set about telling me what every count, percentage and number meant. all the while comparing me to the average Mexican woman. he complimented my apparently healthy diet and general good health. that was a freebie. then, we sat back down. then, if we were not disqualified by any of our answers or results, we waited until they called our number (coincidentally, mine was thirty-seven, the age i just turned last month) and went to lie down on the elevated blue lounge chairs to be punctured by what looked like a 900 gauge needle (aka garden hose) to begin the extraction of the precious fluid. earlier, in the waiting room, a rather tall, dark and handsome doctor type walked by and caught the eye(s) of my friend Sally and me. while i was lying prone on the vampire chairs, said tall, dark and handsome doctor walked over and spoke to me, in English and then Spanish after i answered him in his native language. then, my pal David shouts from his corner, "hey, C*****i, is that the doctor that you wanted to hit on you?". eeeeeeeeeeek. i looked at him and said, "hello, he's bilingual!" and David and Chris and Casey proceeded to laugh out loud. all i could say was, "great, now they won't get any blood because it's all in my face!" fabulous. the doc who did the sticking was pretty good with a needle, and he was a little too excited about my "venas muy buenas" (very good veins). i thought one time that he was going to try and suck it out of both arms at once. anyway, apparently i broke some record for quickest filling of a blood bag (seven minutes), and i lay there to recuperate for about 20 minutes -- snacking on the bag of goodies they gave me. a three-piece-of-white-bread ham and cheese sandwich, a tangerine, a boiled egg, and some guava nectar (there they've got the American Red Cross beat). actually, i only delved into the sandwich because i had not eaten since about 10 pm the night before -- we were told we had to fast (total -- nothing to eat or drink) for at least eight hours before donating. which made no sense to any of us since we would have NO strength to donate. of course, upon arrival, and after reading and translating the twenty-four rules posted on the wall of the waiting area, we realized that we could have had water, juice, fruit and/or vegetables. with big holes in our arms and food on our minds, we got our proof of donation and proceeded to the truck to set about finding lunch. i had seen a Pollo Feliz on the way into town, and we were determined to find it before heading back to San Felipe. we found it, and read the sign "Only To Go". so we decided to have a tailgate party. we ordered a couple of chickens, several quesadillas and got chips and hot sauce and sodas to lay out on the tailgate of David's truck. as we were wolfing down the (amazingly tasty) food, David said, "Happy Chicken, 60 pesos, Quesadillas, 12 pesos, Tailgating with friends on the street in Mexico, Priceless." and we all laughed. perhaps the best quesadillas i've ever put in my mouth. the ladies at the stand told us they make 10,000 corn tortillas daily. daily. two women. in a room the size of your smallest bedroom. it was great. we got back to san felipe and checked in at the church. we wrapped up some details and prepared for the Lord's Supper that evening. at the last minutes, we realized we had forgotten to buy the bread. oops. so we hopped in the truck and set about navigating the maze of one way streets hoping to find a bakery still open. we finally found one and had to settle for a sweetened sesame bread (to date we have found no Biblical prohibition of said bread type) to use for the service. it went off mostly without a hitch, and we had a very dynamic dialogue during the service. after packing up and setting the alarm for 3:15 am, i went to bed. as consolation for not being able to make the fun side trip to san miguel de allende before returning home, my roommate and i were granted special permission to sleep in the makeshift rolling bedroom otherwise designated for drivers. the full size mattress in the camper of the truck bed. heavily sedated, i snuggled in for a nice five hour nap which lasted until the first bathroom stop somewhere north of san felipe. then, i crawled into the cab of the truck. where i made the rest of the trip, sitting in the back seat. i made a few new friends, as has been the blessed pattern, and i was reminded of the power that God has and is not afraid to use. several new believers came to faith during the trip, and i believe that several of our lives were changed in ways we could never have expected. and the toilets flushed, as designed, every time. happy new year, and i hope you are healthy happy and spiritually sound!

Also from landscape art installation in Dec 2005, Sonoma, CA. www.cornerstonegardens.com

Photos of landscape art installations in Sonoma, California, www.cornerstonegardens.com

Travel and Friends

It's Christmas day, and I feel like I have been celebrating for six weeks already. Our family is a little more disjointed than ever, and that requires a lot of maneuvering of schedules and locations to create all the pieces so that the puzzle can at least fit together figuratively. As soon as the bell rang on Friday December 17th, I quickly worked together with my teaching assistant to tidy up the room to some degree, and I dashed to the car to drive to the Dallas airport. That day, I flew to Oakland, where some friends of mine picked me up and drove me to their place in the North Bay area of San Francisco. They live in Tiburón, a quaint little peninsula. I used to work with them in Nashville, and I cared for their little boy, who is a total delight, thanks to some well-intentioned training and caregiving on the part of his parents. We spent several days catching up, visiting, eating great food and drinking great wine. We went to Sonoma one day to look around and pulled over to enjoy a beautiful garden art installation, we visited one of the oldest missions in California, ate a fabulous lunch at The Girl And The Fig just off the city square, and then we took the scenic route home through the Napa Valley. Just lovely. After my California visit, I then accepted an invitation to visit a friend I met this summer in Mexico, at his home in Chicago. There were more travel adventures involved in that leg of the trip, but he waited patiently for me and my bag, which arrived even later. We