Jim-jiminy, Jim-jiminy, Jim-Jim, Jirreee July 9, 2009

My friend Holly and I were put on this earth as roommates for a reason. Well, technically, we’re former roommates, but who’s counting? The reason we were such a good pair was because I was deathly afraid of spiders (remember this?) and she was frightened by jumping bugs. You know…crickets, grasshoppers and the like. Although my heart goes into my throat every time I’m facing down a spider, I don’t really mind the hopping things. I figure…they can’t kill me, so let them be. She, on the other hand, didn’t mind killing the eight-legged creatures that gave me terrors. Are you seeing what I mean? This was a partnership, people! Forget crimes…we fought the creepy crawly underworld and won quite a few skirmishes.

I’ve thought of our former partnership many a time since I moved out to Colorado because out here the crickets abound. I’m glad I’m here to face the crickets, whilst she wages war against the black widows. It just seemed destined. However, last night everything changed.

I came from the bathroom after brushing my teeth and was about to crawl into bed when I heard the dulcet tones of a cricket in my room. How could I be sure that the little guy was in my room? Well…it was loud. Very loud. Because of that, I came into the dark room trying to listen closely to triangulate his position. I narrowed it down to a corner of my room and moved things around a bit to draw him out of his wee little hiding place. It was at this point that he went radio silent.

Thinking to outsmart him, I turned out all the lights again and stood in the doorway of my bedroom, barely daring to breathe. Nothing. Five more minutes and…nothing. No sound. Oh well, right? I’d done my due dilligence and a little part of me was kind of concerned that he’d jump onto my face while I slept, but I was reasonably confident that I’d be fine and nothing bad would happen as a result of me letting him go free. As I laid my head down to sleep, the cricket was the farthest thing from my mind and I drifted into slumberland only to be JARRED awake by the squeaky sounds of the cricket.

Remembering my trick of hunting him down that silenced him so well the last time, I made a lot of noise in the same vicinity until…ha! My plan worked. Satisfied that I had foiled the cricket once more, I went back to sleep. Not long after, I was again ripped out of a sound slumber only to hear him making really loud chirping sounds. Seriously? What’s was he doing? The cricket equivalent of smoke signals? Sheesh.

At this point, I was thoroughly annoyed. I think we all know by now that I value sleep above many things and I was not going to let this cricket win the battle of the airwaves. I threw my blankets off, bounded to the light switch with a fury rarely seen and turned and glared around the room (what? my eyes were getting adjusted to the light). I saw nary a movement. I lowered myself onto my hands and knees and forcefully yanked out items that I was storing under my bed. I moved everything out of the corner I thought he was in. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Exhaustion took over and I resigned myself to giving free reign to the little critter. I just couldn’t look anymore. 

I woke up a few more times because of the cricket and finally used a pillow to keep the noise out long enough to get a little rest. When I woke up (for real), I looked like a harried and disheveled shadow of myself. All day long I fought to stay awake at my desk (I was really busy, which helped a lot).

You can imagine that I entered the nocturnal hours with a fierce determination to win the next battle with the cricket. Most of the evening hours passed with no sound of the cricket from my room. But 10:00 PM rolled around and the chirping commenced. Determined to not leave any proverbial stone unturned, I turned my room into a true disaster area. I pulled EVERYTHING out from under my bed. I moved a bookcase and a small wooden chest. I used a flashlight to sweep under the bed.

Now it’s 10:46. During  my “creative rennovations” to my bedroom, the cricket, naturally, again fell silent. I’ve turned off the lights and am a good distance away, waiting for the telltale sounds of the cricket. This time, I will not be denied. I will have a cricket carcass trophy by the end of this night! My game face is on. My shoe is sure. Now I can only wait.

Sum sum summa’ time July 7, 2009

So, summertime is simultaneously fun and frustrating for me.

Fun

• Playing volleyball on Monday nights in the park. It’s so awesome to be able to be outdoors, meet people outside of my normal group, and get exercise all while playing a sport that I love.
• Having summer hours at work. Sure, working that extra 45 minutes Monday through Thursday makes me want to shoot my face off most of the time. But getting off at 1:00 on Fridays? Priceless.
• Flip-flops. What was once an every-day-wear item when I lived in SoCal is now a to-be-savored seasonal extravagance. Hot weather = flipity flopping all over the place.
• So You Think You Can Dance. Music, correography, the youth of America…all wrapped up into a nice and neat reality show.
• Iced tea. It’s back in season and there’s nothing quite like it on a hot summer’s day!

Frustrating

• Summer vacations (mine and others) messing with my social calendar
• The heat. I know, I know. You all have it worse because you live in California/Florida/Texas/insert-hot-state-here. I still don’t like it. I’d rather have the cold than the heat, thankyouverymuch. The weather and I get along pretty well during the springtime.
• Teenage over-population. They. are. everywhere. I. want. to. be.

So, I guess the good outweighs the bad. I’m just saying…

This last weekend I went to see Transformers 2 with my roommate Liz and the movie felt 5 hours long. It was 3 hours (which is still a long movie) of  me trying to decipher which robot/transformer guys were fighting which and if they were good or bad and why I cared. Lots of battles, less character development and…shall we say…plot made for a movie I’d never recommend. That being said, I think it’s totally a guy flick through and through because the guys I’ve spoken to about the movie didn’t have any qualms about singing its praises.

My new-ish favorite game is Carcassone. Remember this? Well, Carcassone is different but the same in a lot of ways. It’s building a new world. It’s strategy. But it’s not a detailed with as many rules as Settlers which means it’s easier to play with newcomers. And it’s faster – instead of playing a 2-3 hour game, one game usually lasts about 45 minutes. It’s super fun. I think you should all try it if you’re “gamers”.

I have a new purse given to me by my roommate Liz freshly back from her trip to NY. It makes me happy.

 

That’s all for now, but I still have a few “post-it” posts left, so stay tuned.

remembering the titans… June 28, 2009

…and I’m not talking about the NFL team, although to be a girl about it for just a few seconds, I really do love the colors on their uniforms the best. Light blue and red? Killer combo. Plus, sometimes it’s nice to dwell on happy news since the whole Bronco offseason has been one fiasco after another. Suffice it to say that Josh McDaniels (new coach) needs to get his act together if he’s going to win me over. Then again, I think he’s probably not trying very hard to win me over…go figure.

Ahem. This weekend Kelly and Katie came over for an impromptu dinner and movie night. Unlike some movie nights I’ve been to/hosted, this particular one did not involve a group of people wandering up and down the new release aisle of Blockbuster arguing over a suitable motion picture that all would enjoy. This one was pretty painless…we narrowed it down and amicably decided on our movie (one of the ones at home…I’m a girl on a budget) and went downstairs and fired up the DVD player.

In the midst of our decision making pow-wow, however, I discovered that Liz had been harboring a little secret*. That’s right, she actually owns one of my very favorite movies of all time–Remember the Titans!

Why do I love this movie? Let me count the ways…and for once, it doesn’t involve a romantic storyline or a cute boy.

• I heart sports movies. Even if I don’t ever watch said sport in my “real life”, I still can’t get enough of them on the big screen. Case in point, growing up I liked Little Big League and more recently For Love of the Game. Both of them are baseball movies. And I think I’ve made my stance on baseball pretty darn clear. There’s just something about the unifying effect of a sporting event. The highs, the lows, the cheering…it never fails to take me on an emotional rollercoaster ride.
• I love that these movies are mostly about people. The game provides a catalyst to bring them together, sure, but it’s in the “bringing together” of the people that really makes the movie. Whether it’s an against the odds older never-before-pro player making it on a professional sports team (Invincible) or watching the underdog American hocky team score Olympic gold against all odds (Miracle) or a jaded coach teaching a bunch of misfits how to play hocky and gaining perspective on life and what’s important (The Mighty Ducks, D2 and D3) OR a basketball coach laying the smack down and bringing hope for a future to inner city kids (Coach Carter) there’s just something about sports that I can get into. And let’s be honest…it never fails to make me cry.
• I cheer anyway. Yes, I know that the team is going to win in the final seconds of the game. I know when they rush for the endzone/base/basket/goal that the football/baseball/basketball/hocky puck will make it in. But I cheer anyway. I just get so caught up in the moment that I can’t help myself. And I feel like just a part of that win is because of my support.
• I especially love sports stories based on a true story, as is the case in Remember the Titans. The special features that highlight the real people afterwards just makes me think that I can do whatever I put my mind to.  It really happened, people. It could have happened to me!
• Remember the Titans will always hold a special place in my heart because I do love Denzel and he’s brilliant in this film. I love that a football team brings hope to a community split by racism. I love that the team sticks together and is stronger because they accept each other and work together. And I love that even though not every second of the movie is a bunch of roses, there’s still the strength of the relationships to ground the story. (Also, I had forgotten but Hayden Panettierre is in this movie as a young girl. Random!)

Watching this movie with my friend, Helen, today was so fun. It had been a long time since I’d seen it and it was every bit as good as I remembered. If you haven’t seen it or haven’t seen it lately, you should definintely watch it.

Hey, you never know! Next time you see me, I could be coaching an inner city cricket league and changing lives for the better.

*To be completely fair, Liz didn’t really hide the movie from me. She’s always generous with her DVDs and they are displayed in plain sight. I was merely exaggerating for dramatic effect. It worked, right?

Happy Birthday, Mom! June 26, 2009

Dear Mom,

Happy Birthday! I know you’d like for all your chicks to be home spending the day with you and I’m so sorry that I can’t be there in person. I love you so so much and I’m so blessed to have you for a mom. Here are just a few of the things I love about you in no particular order (and keep in mind this list is not exhaustive…):

• You are an inspiration to me in your spiritual walk. I’ve never met anyone as diligent to spend time with the Lord each day in a real way as you are. If I ask you to pray for something, I know you will because most of your battles you fight on your knees.
• You are the best listener a girl could ask for. At times, you listen to me ramble for minutes on end and only speak to ask questions and understand or clarify what I’m saying. You are so approachable – I know I can talk with you about anything (big or small) and you will care about it just as much as I do.
• I may have the counseling degree, but you are so wise in your counsel to me (and others). I know you will always give me sound advice, based on Scripture or Scriptural principles.
• I appreciate that it’s so easy for me to be your friend now that I’m grown, but I always know you’ll wear the “mom” hat when I need it most.
• I love that you love movie popcorn and chocolate. It makes you just that much more accessible.
• You always serve others and are looking out for the interests of others even if others never notice what you do. You are a true, constant and loyal friend to those around you.
• I love your sense of humor…especially when you’re over-tired and laughing at everything. Your laugh is so infectious and I love to hear it. 
• I would never have such a love for football without your presence in my life – THANK YOU! In the beginning I was just in it for the Sunday chocolate chip cookies, but now every game I watch reminds me of you. It’s so fun to experience the Bronco season with you.
• In so many ways you prepared me with the skills I would need to be on my own. Thank you for making me do all the chores I complained about…I now know how to remove stains from my clothes, properly clean out a refrigerator, make dinner, etc. all because you taught me how. Thanks for preparing me for life in the “real world”.

It’s hard for me to sum up in words all the things that I appreciate about you, Mom, but I hope you know how much you mean to me. I love you and miss you!

Love,

M

ipod de back… June 22, 2009

…at least that’s what I thought was written on my “to blog about” post-it note.  Turns out it was really “iPod Debacle”.  Sounds much more interesting, if not as cryptic, right? I thought so, too.

Let me set the stage.

I have in my possession a pink iPod nano that I received from Mom and Dad for my birthday this year. Their fabulous gift replaces the now-ancient-because-it’s-bigger-than-a-business-card iPod mini that I got years ago.  There are few thing that I enjoy more than music…I love all types of artists, genres and beats. Anything that makes me want to “car” dance (it’s all in the shoulder movement) or makes me want to cry pretty much ends up on the top of my play list. Within iTunes, I have a playlist for every month with new downloaded songs that I want to listen to non-stop along with anything that falls in the oldie-but-goodie bracket.

Coupled with this is the fact that when I totaled my car, I bought a new Saturn Ion that comes complete with what I like to call “the iPod hook-up”. It’s basically a hole that is the size of a headphone jack and I bought a chord that has a headphone jack on either end. I plug one into my iPod and one into my car and it fills the car with my music directly from my iPod. I’m one lucky girl. As a side benefit to the music, I also get to hear the sophisticated “click, click, click” of the iPod dial in surround sound as I scroll to my next song choice.

Said simply…I heart music. A lot. You can see how well my parents know me and why an iPod is a perfect gift. 

Which now brings us to the debacle part of our programming.  Above my CD slot in my car is a little opening. It looks like where they would have put a tapedeck in the past, but now tapedecks are less valuable than storage space. (Well played, Saturn!) I usually put my iPod in this little slot. It sticks there because I bought a case/skin for it that grips the smooth plastic.

I was listening to one my current favorite songs and pulling into the work parking lot. I went to turn off the iPod and unhook it from the car system when it sllliiipppped from my fingers into an open cup of water that I had in my cupholder. Noooooooooooooooo! I swear to you that that moment happened in slow motion. I can still feel the range of emotions that fluttered through my heart and dropped into my stomach. The feelings of loss, of guilt, of despair…

As quickly as I could (though it felt like it was eons in time), I snatched my dear iPod from the water’s cold grasp and dried it off. You can imagine my delight when I discovered that the water had barely made an impact. The case that I bought kept the water out! And while I had really bought the case for the color and design (it’s bright pink), it really came through for me in function that day and for that I’ll forever be grateful.

So, perhaps there wasn’t really a DEBACLE per SE. But aren’t you glad there wasn’t?

Various Sundry Items… June 14, 2009

Is it bad that so many events in my life remind me of a Gilmore Girls episode? I’m going to go with probably, yes, but go with me on this. There’s this Gilmore Girls episode where Lorelai (the Mom) and Rory (the Daughter) are separated and go without communicating for a length of time. When they are finally reunited, Lorelai pulls out a box of random scraps of paper with things scribbled on them and explains that every time she wanted to tell Rory something, she wrote it down. Problem being that many of her notes were written in shorthand and abbreviations that no longer made sense to her…ahem.  I digress.

So, for the last month and half or so, I’ve been carrying around in my wallet this random post-it with notes jotted down of all the things I want to write about on my blog. My wallet, you should know, is the home of many a random receipt, movie ticket stub and even a bobby pin or two. The post-it feels right at home, trust me. I’ve now been keeping this list so long that for many points, I’ve forgotten what story the word I wrote is supposed to trigger. On one item I almost couldn’t even read my own handwriting. And really, it should be noted that my print handwriting is extremely readable since high school when I had a friend that wrote in super small print writing and I decided to follow suit. (sorry, another rabbit trail.  let’s get back on track) Enough is enough. Down with the post-it system…up with frequent blogging. I’m a girl on a mission. But seeing as how there are more than eight topics on my post-it and I know many of you have lives outside of reading my blog (perish the thought! ), I’m going to limit each of the following posts to one post per topic. Just for the record, the lengthy and verbose intro doesn’t count…

In hindsight, many of the topics I wanted to blog about are a little lame. But, I’m going to trust my original judgement and write about them anyway. Clearly, at one time they were very near and dear to my heart.

Lib

My friend Katie calls the library the lib. When I was younger, I used to call it the libERRY. Potato, potahto.

I think I owe my love of books to my parents. When I was young, to encouage my love toward the written word, they committed to buying half of all my books. If they hadn’t cut me off at the ripe old age of 16, they’d probably be in the poor house by now. I’m serious.

When the need arose (i.e. I’d already spent my allowance on something else), I would even “share” books with my sister, Lindsay. We would split our half and Mom and Dad would buy the other half. This resulted in a rather large collection of books that are neither completely mine, nor completely hers. A few minor skirmishes have been fought over the rights to said books. They now, for the most part, reside in the neutral territory of my parent’s house. The ones that we haven’t managed to sneak back with us after Christmas or Summer vacations at home, that is.

When I little, my Mom would take us to the library in our small town quite frequently. I remember a few things about the library…the movie section, the special reading room for kids, and a huge horsey out front that I always wanted to climb up on and pretend to ride.

This is a really small picture, but it’s all I could find. And don’t you think the horse looks fun to ride?

I loved the library back then. I couldn’t get enough of it! I even talked my librarian there into ordering in a series of books that I wanted to read.  It was best activity of the week, hands down (except for maybe the pool in the summertime). Since then, my view of the library has been more and more jaded, morphing into a den of torturous hours of study and research for school papers. Before this year, I cannot remember the last time I’ve entered a public library for the sole purpose of reading for fun. Plus, what is it with the Dewey decimal system? I don’t get it. It’s hard for me to find books in this system. Can’t we just go alphabetically, guys? It’d help me out I think. Besides, if we mixed genres and topics don’t you think it’d be interesting to see what books got placed next to each other? For example, Old Yeller next to a book about olive oil? Maybe that’s just me… 

You’ll be happy (or indifferent) to know that I’ve “made up” with the library. No longer do I blame this hallowed institution for simply being the tool that teachers used to inflict scholarly damage on my psyche. I know it’s not the library’s fault. Katie, being a veritable expert on the library (she actually took a test to be thoroughly acquainted with all of Dewey’s wacky ways), walked me through the basics. How to set up an account online, how to put a book on hold, how to find that book on the shelf, etc.

Suffice it to say, I’ve been reading a lot lately. I put a thousand million (otherwise known as 15) books on hold and almost immediately had more books than I knew what to do with. I’ve not yet built a relationship with my librarian, but I did have a pleasant exchange with her last time I was in and feel that we’ve made solid progress.

Today… June 6, 2009

…was the day of truth and I’m happy to report that I had a fine experience at Toni & Guy’s house of learning.

I marched in with my magazine pictures of what I had in mind and (I’m fairly certain) signed a document that waived all my rights to my own hair.  I met my stylist-in-training Megan and breathed a sigh of relief that she didn’t have a faux hawk, mohawk or a graduated mullet. She looked fairly normal and seemed like a downright nice person.

Now, the relationship between the stylist (even stylists-in-training) and the stylee is one built on trust and respect…I had to trust that she wouldn’t make me look freakish and I also had to respect the power she wielded of chemical agents and sharp, pointy scissors all at her disposal. We chatted amicably and I learned about her siblings, the book she was reading (The Shack), her husband and son, and that she was a fellow Kris Allen fan. I knew I liked her.

All this while she was doing my highlights and lowlights, but everything smelled so darn good that it seemed more like she was assembling a fruit salad on my head. What she was actually doing, however, was dabbing my hair with layers and layers of chemicals.

As promised, the instructors roamed the room to make sure their fledgling apprentices didn’t maim or destroy anyone on their watch. I heard (again) shock and awe at how fine, yet completely thick my hair is. Tell me about it, people. I can’t hold a curl to save my life.

Four hours later, I emerged a new woman. I got a cut and color for half the cost of a normal place and a whole new identity to boot. Maybe now I’ll wake up on a boat somewhere and have amnesia and eventually find out that I’m a rogue agent for a black ops division of the government…or, maybe that’s someone else.

Here’s some pictures! If you don’t like them, well, it’s a little late now. Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

This shows the cut pretty good…

Here’s the color, though the lighting wasn’t really my friend.

Tomorrow… June 5, 2009

…my fate awaits. Or, to be more accurate, the fate of my hair awaits.

After a few weeks of searching magazines for hair-spiration, tomorrow I embark on a journey into the hallowed halls of Toni & Guy…the Academy. And while part of me is a little nervous to have a stylist-in-training cut and color my hair, the other part of me is over the moon to have it be an affordable price. After all, it’s like all those medical shows have taught us. There are teaching hospitals for young med personal to learn how to become rockin’ doctors. And, to be honest, I’d rather have a stylist-in-training than a doctor-in-training, right?

So, hopefully after tomorrow my hair color will be somewhere in the vicinity of this:

And my hair will look like a longer version of this:

Here’s to taking the plunge and never looking back! Let’s all collectively cross our fingers and hope everything comes out okay. Pictures will be posted if the result of the haircut doesn’t force me to take up wearing wigs as a new hobby.

Happy Birthday, Dad! May 25, 2009

Dear Daddy,

Happy Birthday! I wish I was there to share it with you, but since I can’t, I’m glad you get to spend it with our Houston family! (Don’t lie, you know you love Karis best now ) I love you sooo much and I’m so thankful that you’re my Dad. Here are just a few of the things I love about you in no particular order (and keep in mind this list is not exhaustive…):

•  I’m thankful for your provision for our family. You always worked hard to make sure we were never in want and now being grown and out on my own, I appreciate it even more than I ever could have back when I was little.
• You always seek to give and make people’s lives just a little bit easier, especially those in the ministry.  I’m blessed to have an example of generosity that I’ve observed and been influenced by my whole life.
• You are a constant presence in my life and I’m so grateful to have a Dad that will listen, help, advise and pray for me at the drop of a hat, even when I’ve done something stupid.
• Your heart of service in the church.  I grew up in church watching you serve in many areas and it’s not any different today. I love that you bring your wealth of life knowledge to your current church and that people I don’t even know can benefit from the gifts the Lord gave you.
• I love your sense of humor…even the jokes I know by heart because you’ve told them so many times. I grew up in a household that laughed often and that’s an invaluable part of me today. I can remember multiple times that I came to the dinner table and ended up laughing so hard that my beverage spewed out of my mouth. Gross? Yes, but the fact that we had that much fun as a family is a testament to the home that you and Mom created for us. It’s the reason why I can laugh at myself instead of cry…most days, at least.
• With marriages crumbling, it’s so amazing to see you and Mom still in love and supporting each other after a million gazillion* years of marriage. I love that you still go out on dates and enjoy each other’s company.
• I love your hugs…they can wipe away a discouraging day and make me feel protected and loved. Thanks for giving them freely and often.

But most of all, Dad, thanks for your friendship. I’m so blessed to have you as my Dad and I’m looking forward to what this next year of your life brings. I love you and miss you!

Love,

M

*Length of Time Approximation

Happy Friday (American Idol style)! May 22, 2009

I know, I know. I should give it a rest. It’s over and done with. But I CANNOT HELP IT. I love this guy! And, it sounds like his wife and I could be BFF. I’m serious. She sounds hilarious.