musings from aunt tt

Closing time

2010-10-25T07:56:00.000-07:00

I go through phases where I analyze different aspects of my life, and lately I've been thinking about this blog. And I realized a few things:

1. Only about a half dozen people actually read this blog (and half of those, I believe, are family).
2. Most of what I write is not really of much interest/importance to the general public (as 99% of my posts spark zero commentary).
3. Anything I have to say that is of importance/interest, I could just share directly with that half dozen of friends and family, instead of posting it on a public blog.

Meaning that--this blog is pretty much unnecessary. It is kind of a sad realization, because I think that we all like to believe, at some level, that our every thought and musing should be infinitely interesting to others, and that everyone who stumbles upon our writings would be instantly hooked, and we'd soon have so many followers, we'd be rivaling dooce in popularity.

But, I know that I do not fall under that description. I lead a quiet, insignificant life that is only interesting to myself and a very small, select group of others. And that's ok.

So, I am suspending my blog. I don't have the heart to delete it entirely just yet, as it contains elements of a journal of the past four years for me, and I sometimes like to look back on those old stories. But, this is my final post.

For those of you who have read regularly or who have stumbled upon this blog and taken time to look around, thank you. If I know you well, I will still be sharing my musings with you, just in different ways.

thanks and love,
Aunt TT

two years

2010-10-17T07:01:00.000-07:00

Two years of sharing: time, laughter, meals, home improvement projects, secrets, a bed, songs, car rides, drinks, kisses, responsibilities, ideas, sicknesses, hugs, bills, disagreements, adventures, friends, family, chores, inside jokes, tears, dogs, dances, trips, pictures, holidays, porch swings, games, celebrations, and lots and lots of love.

Or, as I would have written in fourth grade:
2 people
+ 2 gether
= 4 ever

Happy 2 years, honey--I love you bunches!

superfluity

2010-10-11T12:53:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, you buy things just because they make you smile:

(meet my impulse buy from Hobby Lobby on Saturday)

Fall-ing in Love

2010-09-07T10:15:00.000-07:00

How do I love Autumn in Nashville? Let me count the ways:

* Shakespeare in the Park
* Live on the Green
* Greek Festival
* Fall TACA Arts Fair
* Wine on the River
* Oktoberfest
* Southern Festival of Books
* HallowEast

Sure, September and October are my crazy-busy months at work...but they are also the months when the heat finally drops below hell-levels, and countless festivals and impromptu backyard bbqs fill in the beautiful, temperate weekend hours.

I love inhaling the crisp, clean air...
I love watching the trees change into their red and gold finest, like they're putting on party dresses...
I love picking out the funkiest, misshapen gourds at the farmer's market...
I love sitting by a fire pit, sipping wine under the stars...

I. Love. Fall.

"O" is for overshare

2010-08-13T08:42:00.000-07:00

When you have a platform from which you can share all of the minutiae of your life with anyone who wants to read it, there's always the temptation to overshare. It's just there. And I think I am falling into that temptation with this post, so I will go ahead and warn you: if you have any problems with reading about bodily fluids or things that are of a womanly nature, you probably want to stop reading HERE.

You've been warned now.

So, since I got back from Africa, Todd and I have opened ourselves up to the possibility of having children. Which basically means that I went off birth control. And that was over a month ago. Notice I said over a month ago. And nothing regular has happened since then, but my body has been feeling all sorts of strange, and I've been an emotional rollercoaster, and I've realized just how much that tiny little pill regulated my body for 10 years.

So, since nothing regular has happened, I decided I should probably take a pregnancy test, just to be sure.

And ladies, I am here to tell you that peeing on a stick is not easy. Seriously. Take the difficulty of peeing in a cup and multiply it by oh, 175. Because as we all know, a woman's urine stream is not predictable. For a man, he can just point and shoot, and it pretty much goes wherever he aims. Not for a woman. It can start off one way, and then all of a sudden, it's like a gust of wind just sweeps through the toilet bowl and sends it in an entirely different direction.

And here's the thing, the instructions of the pregnancy test say that you need to hold that stick in your stream for exactly five seconds--no more, no less--because if you get too much or too little on the stick it can cause a false reading. What the...? Sorry, but when your pee stream is as unpredictable as Sarah Palin on crack, how are you supposed to make that happen? I don't know about you, but I am definitely not that coordinated. If I meet a woman who can follow those instructions exactly, I will shake her hand (after, of course, she has washed it). Who knew that peeing would be the most stressful part of the whole pregnancy test experience?

All I can say is, thank God that Todd was not awake for all of that, or he most certainly would have been making fun of me the entire time. In a loving way, of course.

So, there you have it...my total overshare. I feel better now, having gotten it out of my system.

What--you were wondering about the results of the test? Hmmmmm....

Nine

2010-07-28T10:21:00.000-07:00

My lovely niece (she who changed my name to TT) turns nine today. It seems like just yesterday that I witnessed her birth (although, that's probably because witnessing a birth is one of those images/experiences that you don't soon forget--it etches itself into your brain, so it is always a salient memory).

But, in those nine short years, she has turned into a beautiful, witty, mature, confident, caring, intelligent young lady, and I am so proud of her.

Happy Birthday, KK!

home

2010-07-13T11:34:00.000-07:00

I've been back in the states now for almost 48 hours--and my body seems to be adjusting very well from the jet lag, although my mind and heart are still busy processing everything that happened in the past two weeks.

The trip was truly incredible--much better than we ever could have imagined. The students we traveled with were wonderful, and we had no illnesses, no injuries, and no problems. Everyone worked well together, and we accomplished much in a short time.

As I sit here remembering, it is the faces that keep running through my mind. The children, the warriors, the teachers, the mothers.

The Maasai men who were our guardians on the mara:
Nalotwesha, the woman who showed up every day to help us work:Beautiful Joice, my friend with the sweet smile:Moses, whose singing voice was so lovely and piercing, it could break your heart:

...and so many more. So many faces and stories that I will not soon forget.

I will try to write more about the trip soon--for now, I am still in a bit of a daze and trying to get back to the grind of daily life here.

But--I am home.

mimi ni tayari

2010-06-22T06:34:00.000-07:00

In five days, I will be on my way. If you need me, I will be here:

Specifically, we will be on the Shompole Ranch, which is located on the border of Kenya and Tanzania, between the Masai Mara Game Reserve and the Amboseli National Park, just north of Lake Natron.

You can keep up with the journey by visiting http://ensworth-kenya-2010.blogspot.com/. The first post should appear next Monday, once we have arrived in Nairobi.

I'll see you back here in mid-July with my own stories and pictures. Until then, kwaheri rafiki.

final countdown

2010-06-07T10:02:00.000-07:00

Three weeks from today...I will be in Kenya.

I spent the weekend shopping and pulling together items for the packing list: sleep sack, hiking boots, work gloves, headlamp, bandanas, first aid kit, dry shampoo, etc. Packing for two full weeks of camping in Africa is daunting. I just know I'm going to be the person who forgets something vital, like sunscreen.

The only item I haven't purchased yet is the 30% (or higher) DEET insect repellent that is recommended. Reading the back of the bottles scares me. Anything with a high level of DEET carries warnings like "Do not spray on any synthetic materials." (ummm--like most clothing?) Or, "May damage leather." If something is strong enough to damage leather, do I really want to spray it on my skin? I'm struggling with this one. Spray really hazardous materials on my skin--or risk getting bitten by a potential malaria-carrying mosquito? I'm looking into other options...

While I am there, I will have zero access to phones, email, etc., but WLS is going to maintain a trip blog so that our friends and family back home can keep up with what we are doing. I'll post that link before we leave.

Oh, and did I mention that I AM SO STINKIN' EXCITED? Because I am. I most certainly am.

this is when those touch-typing lessons come in handy

2010-05-19T09:29:00.000-07:00

Right now, I can't even see what I'm typing.

I lost a contact lens this morning at work, and it was only then that I realized how smart it would have been to have stored a back-up set somewhere in my office (they always say that hindsight is 20/20. Haha! That seems especially appropriate here.) Because my vision is so poor, I had to take the other lens out as well--otherwise I would be walking around all day feeling like I have some sort of crazy vertigo.

So how blind am I? Let's just say that the font on my computer screen has to be THIS BIG* in order for me to read it while sitting here (without having to lean in really close). And those letters are actually still really blurry to me, but I can at least tell what the words are.

I had to get a coworker to tell me if the goopy stuff on the salad bar was tuna salad or chicken salad. And it turns out that the squash casserole I thought I was dishing onto my plate was actually corn casserole. Still good, though. (Ironically, we usually have a lunch menu, but today was "What You See is What You Get." Haha! Joke's on me.)

So, I'll be sitting here, squinting at my screen, trying to identify the people who walk past my office (I think that one was a man), attempting not to eat meat accidentally, and probably sending emails with lots of typos in them...until my husband comes to take me home from work. (Lord knows I can't drive myself like this. I'd be up under a semi truck before I even realized it was in front of me.)

Maybe now is a good time to consider Lasik.

*For some reason, when my post publishes, this font doesn't show up as big as it does in the composing phase. So just imagine that those words are in font size 72.

unfortunate proof that fortune cookies lie

2010-05-13T08:24:00.000-07:00

So I take my little sis Nai'Imma out for Chinese yesterday, and the message in my fortune cookie reads:

"Be generous, and the favor will be returned to you within the week."

And I think to myself, huh. Well, I feel like I've been pretty generous this week, trying to support flood relief efforts with both my volunteer time and my money. So maybe this little fortune is a sign of good things to come.

And then I get home to discover that someone has busted apart our fence (literally, ripped boards off of the wood fence) so they could get in our backyard and steal our new lawnmower.

I think I want a refund on my fortune.

the flood, part two

2010-05-10T12:08:00.000-07:00

(for part one, scroll down to previous entries)

As I continue to think about all of the things I have seen over the past week, that word overwhelming keeps popping up. The overwhelming waters. The overwhelming destruction. The overwhelming loss and grief.

But overwhelming can be positive as well, and I have seen that connotation of the word in action, too. The overwhelming spirit of these ravaged communities. The overwhelming volunteer response. The overwhelming outpouring of donations and support.

Lots of people complained that the national news was ignoring us. The lack of coverage was a hot topic for many Facebook/Twitter status updates and blog posts. And yes, it was a little frustrating that something so huge, so tragic (so, well, overwhelming) for Nashville was barely a blip on the national news radar. But at the same time, it didn't really matter that they didn't care. We were taking care of ourselves. People were pumping water out of their houses and then turning around and helping pump water out of their neighbor's homes. Within a couple of days, Hands on Nashville had more than 15,000 people sign up to help with flood relief. 15,000 local people signing up with a local organization to help our neighbors that were affected. With that much local love, it really didn't seem as important whether or not someone in California knew about the situation. Because we all knew. And we were taking care of it.

One of Todd's out-of-state friends commented that people in Nashville were being "drama queens" about the situation. From his perspective, we were all just whining about a bunch of rain. So, I guess that was one negative effect of the lack of coverage--many people outside of Nashville didn't think the situation was that bad...because if it wasn't on the national news, it couldn't have been that big or that serious, right?

But...it was. And it is. And it will continue to be for awhile. Rebuilding will take time. Because of the amazing efforts of our incredible community, lots of work has already been done...but our city still faces a long road to recovery.

Right now, we are in a waiting period. Waiting for all of the scrap piles to be picked up from the road sides. Waiting for the houses to dry out before rebuilding can begin. Waiting for inspectors to determine what is salvageable. Waiting for aid to come in before supplies can be purchased. Waiting for our water treatment plants to be fully functioning again. Some people are still waiting to see if their loved ones lost in the flood waters will ever be found.

It will take some time before things return to a sense of "normal". For a long time, these flooded families will cringe when they see rain in the forecast. For a long time, we will all eye the Cumberland River suspiciously, wondering if it could turn on our city again. For a long time, we will remember the images we have seen, and the neighbors we have hugged, and the tears we have shared with those who lost so much.

And for a long, long time, we will know how fortunate we are to be a part of such a strong, supportive, loving, giving community.

May 1st, 2010. A flood of water...that turned into a flood of support...that gave rise to a flood of hope.

If you would like to help, visit the following links:

The Nashville Red Cross

Hands on Nashville

The Community Foundation

Donate Nashville

water conservation

2010-05-09T19:25:00.000-07:00

Things I've learned this week:

1. You can shave your legs with 2 cups of water.

2. You can shampoo your hair with 4 cups of water.

3. You can go over a week without washing dishes if you get take-out most nights.

4. Your dogs love you even more when you're stinky.

5. You can use a lot less water when your hot water heater isn't working.

the flood, part one

2010-05-06T20:40:00.000-07:00

Dear God. Where do I start?

The last week in Nashville has been surreal. Overwhelming. Unprecedented. All of these words have been used by others to describe what has happened. And yet, no words can describe what has happened.

Saturday night, I stood under a tent in the rain at a crawfish boil, trying to eat as many of the little buggers as possible, cognizant that the oil spill in the gulf would likely obliterate the chances of having fresh crawfish again anytime soon.

On Sunday, the concern about crawfish seemed a distant memory.

At first, we were concerned about our own little plot of land. We noticed we had two inches of water in the basement. Then, an hour later, it had become 15 inches. And rising. So I began calling every store that might sell sump pumps, only to find that they were sold out. Everywhere. And that's when I began to realize the problem was widespread--and our basement was not the only thing that was flooding.

Then, there were the images on the news. A portable trailer floating down I-24. The Harpeth River rising to meet the school where I work. The houses covered in water. And rain continuing to fall. And water continuing to rise. And cars in water, people in water, houses in water, landmarks in water.

It was the train-wreck you couldn't turn away from. Except that it was the train-wreck happening in your back yard. You could sit there watching it on the television, but you could also feel the pain echoing right outside your front door.

First, it was the 100-year flood. Then it became the 500-year flood. Then some even dared to call it the 1,000-year flood. But no matter how many years were attached to it, one thing was clear--it was a major flood that was affecting thousands of people right now.

I admit, the first two days, I spent transfixed to the TV. I watched the footage--almost trying to believe it couldn't be true. Especially on Monday, when the weather was sunny and absolutely gorgeous--it was the perfect spring day. But devastation was just two miles away. And that beautiful sun was dancing upon the very waters that were causing so much destruction.

Then, on the third day, I went into the heart of the beast. After the waters receded, I went to help some co-workers who lived in the neighborhoods that were featured on the local news stories--the neighborhoods where you could only see the roofs sticking out of the water.

Driving down those streets felt like driving through a really terrible miles-long rummage sale. Every household had piled furniture, clothing, appliances, etc. out by the curb. No matter what significance these things held or memories they represented, they were now contaminated goods. Trash. The sadness in the air was heavier than the humidity.

And that's when I realized--you can see the images in the media--you can think you understand the gravity of the situation. But until you meet those families. Until you get up close and personal with the destruction. Until you see the baby clothes covered in slime, and the photographs morphed into abstract watercolors, and the antique family furniture propped on the trash pile.

Until then...you have no idea.

(to be continued)

sweet spring

2010-04-21T09:49:00.000-07:00

I went for a walk/jog in the park yesterday, and I noticed that all of the honeysuckle was blooming. I know that, to some people, honeysuckle is just an invasive weed-vine, but I can't help myself--I love it. To me, honeysuckle smells like childhood. I remember pinching the blossoms off the vine with my tiny fingers and slooooowly pulling out the stems, carefully trying to extract that single, sweet drop of nectar. It almost felt like sneaking candy.

The blooms yesterday were not quite mature enough to sample, but maybe they'll be ready in time for my next walk. The first desserts of spring. I can already taste it.

two of a kind

2010-04-16T08:07:00.001-07:00

This is what happens when two of my favorite people get together:

(click image to enlarge and get a close-up view of just how nutty they are. By the way, they chose the title for the photo strip, not me. I would have gone with Goofy and Goofier. I'm just not sure which one would be which.)

sibling revelry

2010-04-15T06:12:00.000-07:00

Honestly, it isn't quite fair for this many cool people to be in one family...

(and look--we managed to arrange ourselves oldest to youngest, left to right, without even meaning to. We're so in sync.)

pinata parade

2010-04-07T12:23:00.000-07:00

We're having a Mexican-themed dinner at work, so I did an online search for a tiger pinata. And what I discovered in my search is that there are a whoooooole lotta pinata fails out there. I mean, you wouldn't even believe it. Which is why I have pictures to show you.

Guess what this is:

Give up? It's listed as a "cowboy boot." I promise that is not the first thing I thought of when I saw this image.

Next up, we have "dolphin" pinata:

Which looks to me like a cross between Pinocchio and Marvin the Martian--don't you think?

"Cake" pinata belongs over on the Cake Wrecks blog.

I'm trying to figure out why "dreidel" pinata is flipping me off.

I feel like if I rub "football" pinata, a genie might pop out.

"High heel" pinata looks like a bed you find in one of those cheesy honeymoon chalets. With tiny pink pillows.

"Smiling Dave" pinata really needs to put some clothes on. Or he might get re-named "pedophile" pinata. Seriously, he's naked and he seems far too happy about it. It creeps me out.

Suppositories come in red now? Oh wait, that's just "chili pepper" pinata.

Shouldn't I feel bad about beating up a United States army tank with a stick? It just seems unpatriotic. Maybe this is a big seller in other countries.

There's that tube sock I lost! ("hockey puck" pinata)

I think this must be a"squirrel" that has ingested too much high fructose corn syrup. And possibly nuclear gases.

And finally, there's "banana" pinata.

I'm not even going to touch that one with a stick...

salivating

2010-03-24T08:00:00.000-07:00

This restaurant is on the verge of opening just 2 blocks from my house.

A new restaurant? With specialty cocktails and dishes prepared with local, seasonal food? And Laura Wilson is involved? And it's all walkable from my house?

How many different ways can I say, "Yes, please!"?

I'm so excited.

morning happy

2010-03-03T07:09:00.000-08:00

If this video doesn't make you smile at least a little bit, then, dude, I'm really sorry that you're dead.

tuesday night cable

2010-03-02T18:23:00.001-08:00

I'm always really bad at putting together "Top 10" lists of favorite books, movies, television shows, etc., because there are just so many possibilities, and I am terrible about limiting myself. As soon as I come up with ten, I am sure to think of an eleventh that deserves a top slot for one reason or another. Let's just call me indecisive.

But, I have to say--every time I catch "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" on cable, I am reminded of how much I really enjoy this movie. The characters are colorful, the dialogue is clever, and the journey is amusing. It kind of makes me want to stock up on Dapper Dan for no good reason and R-U-N-N-O-F-T to Tishomingo.

Say what you will about the Coen brothers--they have their hits and misses--but this movie could be a solid eleventh, or better, in my book.

two T's is two 3's

2010-02-22T07:56:00.000-08:00

I love birthdays. Seriously. I don't quite understand people who dread their birthdays or refuse to celebrate them. The way I see it, I've been blessed with another full year of life, and I'm going to celebrate the heck out of it. Another year? Bring it on. I will happily wear it like a badge of honor.

Whenever my birthday falls on a Monday, I take it as an excuse to celebrate the entire weekend before--a full Friday-through-Monday birthday extravaganza. And it helped that this weekend held some of the most glorious weather Nashville has seen in the past few months.

(soaking up the bee-yoo-tiful Saturday afternoon, lying on the front porch swing, sipping wine, and wearing my new birthday kicks.)

It was a fabulous weekend that included bowling, a European spa facial, pedicures, margaritas at Rosepepper, dinner at Allium, a bonfire, and lots of relaxing...and it culminated in a super-duper surprise party at the skating rink.

Thank you to my wonderful husband and fabulous friends and family who contributed to make this birthday extra-special. I love you all!

Why Fakebook won't last

2010-02-12T07:44:00.000-08:00

Facebook won't last.

Knowing that doesn't require the skills of a Nostradamus--it's pretty much inevitable. Just as other social sites have fallen by the wayside (Friendster, MySpace, etc.), Facebook will follow. I'm not saying anything profound with that statement, so I want to focus instead on why I think it will fail.

I don't think that Facebook will fail due to administrative error--the problem won't be due to any bad decisions that Zuckerberg or anyone else makes. It won't fail because it will suddenly be flooded with spammers and pornsters, one of the issues that plagued MySpace. It won't even fail by simply losing its novelty.

I believe that Facebook will ultimately fail because it is ultimately fake.

Most people on Facebook have upwards of 100 or 200 "friends." I've even seen some friend counts approaching 1,000. These friends are people that you (presumably) know in some way, and you have granted them access to your information, your photos, and your status updates. But how much further does it really go than that?

In the past week, I've seen some pretty intense status updates. One friend was mugged, beaten up, and had her car stolen. How many of her 400 friends commented with condolences or well wishes? About 20. Another friend lost a beloved grandparent. How many of his 500+ friends sent their sympathy? A dozen or so.

Now, granted--some of the close friends probably opted to show their support in other ways (phone calls, visits, etc.)-- but the majority of those 400 or 500 people aren't close friends. They are aquaintances who call themselves friends...and yet they didn't even take a couple of seconds to say "I'm sorry" or "Thinking of you." Ouch.

Another example is birthdays. Facebook actually offers the service of notifying you a couple of days in advance when any of your friends are about to celebrate a birthday--which leaves you with zero excuses for not wishing someone a happy birthday. And yet, the last time my birthday rolled around, I think I received about 10 birthday wishes from my 250+ friends. That's about 4% representin'. And based on my studies of other people's profiles and their birthday wishes, that seems to be pretty standard across the board.

So I believe that Facebook's failure will lie in its fakeness. I know that I personally am tiring of it. My 250+ number mocks me in a way, because I know that if I whittled the list down to my true friends-- down to the people that I could call at 2am if I needed them--the number would be much closer to 20 or so. So why have the extra 200-ish?

It's a question I have been pondering heavily lately (perhaps because I am on the doorstep of another birthday). As I get older, I am feeling the need to focus more on what's real, what's true, and what's really, truly important. And I believe that this movement in my soul is a natural progression.

In a world where so much is "virtual", I believe that we will begin to see more value being placed on things that are real. Real handwritten letters. Real experiences. Real relationships.

Which is why I believe that I am not the only person who will become disillusioned with Facebook. In the "real" revolution, there will be a sea change. And person by person, friend by fake friend, Facebook will fall.

And honestly, I think we'll all be better for it.

sea change

2010-01-11T10:36:00.000-08:00

Was it really November when I last posted? Goodness. I could probably be charged with blog-neglect. Well, it's a new year with new beginnings, so let's just start fresh, shall we?

For a while now, my dad has been encouraging me to read the book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. I added it to the already long list of "Books other people have recommended to me," figuring that I would get to it eventually. Eventually finally arrived about a month ago, when I was on a Costco trip with a friend, and I noticed the book in a pile on one of the book tables. We both ended up buying a copy, and I finally cracked open the cover a couple of weeks ago and began reading.

And I was instantly addicted.

By "addicted", I don't mean that I found it to be an enthralling page-turner that I couldn't put down, or that I read it straight through in a matter of hours. Instead, I became addicted to the idea of the book--the philosophy that the book is based on. If you haven't heard about AVM yet, here's a synopsis: Kingsolver and her family (husband and two girls) move from Tuscon, Arizona to a farmhouse in Virginia. For one year, they vow that they will only eat food that they have grown or that has been produced locally, and the book is largely a memoir of their experience.

Now, I have always considered myself more of a city girl than a country girl, and I tend to cringe when people talk about buying land and moving out into the country. The idea of a house and land in the middle of nowhere has never been particularly appealing to me.

Until now.

After reading AVM, I want to live on a farm. I want to grow all of my own vegetables, bake my own bread, make my own cheeses. I want to know the people that are responsible for the food I eat. I want to be friends with a dairy farmer and meet the cows that are producing the milk I use. I basically want to fall off the grid of corporate food culture.

Off course, it is doubtful that Todd and I will be uprooting and moving to a farm anytime soon, but I can now see it as a possibility--even a desirable possibility--for the future. And in the meantime, I am going to plant a garden in the backyard this spring, buy more produce from the farmer's market, and stop relying on Kroger for the food I put into my body.

And I'm also going to start making my own cheese, beginning with mozzarella. I'll let you know how it goes...

counting

2009-11-20T09:40:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, I feel so blessed that I think it must be illegal. Seriously, it sounds silly, but when I stop to think about what I am thankful for (as so many people are wont to do this time of year), I am stunned by how many good things I have in my life.

Family: My family is, simply put, amazing. My parents are loving, encouraging, and supportive...they always have been, and I know they always will be. I have close relationships with my siblings--I can truly call them my friends, and we thoroughly enjoy each other's company. I have two precious nieces who adore me (but not as much as I adore them, of course). I have a wonderful, thoughtful, loving husband. And while many people complain about their in-laws...I think mine are absolutely great.

Friends: I have beautiful friends. Not just in Nashville, but spread out across the country. I have friends who make me laugh, who let me cry, who encourage me, who bring me flowers for no reason, who show up at my house to help scrape paint, who keep me honest, who teach me new things, who love me. And I love them. And the thing I love most about my friends? So many of them are doers. They are givers. They truly strive to make the world around them a better place. My mom always told me to surround myself with balcony people, and when I look around at my friends, I realize that I have done exactly what she advised.

Work: Not only do I have a job, which in itself is enough to be thankful for...I have a great job. I have a job that others envy. I love my co-workers--they constantly make me laugh and keep me encouraged. I have a boss who values me and believes in me, which makes me feel empowered. I have ample vacation time and personal days, so that I can take time for myself when needed. And I feel rewarded when I hear the laughter of students ringing through the hallways, because I know that what I do helps make that possible.

Health: I just had my yearly physical and got an A+. But I am not only thankful for my own health, I am thankful that everyone in my family is in good health right now. My 90 year old grandmother had a bit of a scare over the summer, but she has recovered and is back in good spirits. All is well.

And the thing is, the list could go on and on. I don't need fingers to count my blessings, I need an abacus.

And I am so incredibly grateful. So deeply, humbly grateful. I have so much to celebrate--not just on Thanksgiving--but every day. I thank God for these blessings.

And I thank you, my family, friends, balcony people, for all of the joy you bring this life.

idealistic, more or less

2009-11-16T12:32:00.000-08:00

For the past six or eight weeks, I've been in a bit of a funk. I've had this feeling that's been gnawing at my insides, and I haven't been able to identify it. I just knew that it wasn't a pleasant feeling, and it made me sad.

And then this morning, it hit me. The feeling I have been struggling with is disappointment. A general disappointment in people.

My disappointment isn't directed at any one person or person(s) in particular--I think it has been fueled by multiple events and experiences. I have been disappointed by people personally and professionally...and even by people I don't know, whose stories I have heard on the news or second-hand through other folks. And I guess part of the disappointment comes from the fact that I just don't understand--that I can't understand what motivates people to do the things they do or say the things they say or act the way they act.

I think sometimes this whole fallen world business gets to me, and I crave redemption. I wish for better. I wish for more. Specifically, I wish:

- that people would love more...and hate less
- that people would give more...and take less
- that people would forgive more...and be bitter less
- that people would think of others more...and of themselves less
- that people would encourage more...and complain less
- that people would smile more...and scowl less
- that people would help more...and be less selfish

But mostly, I wish that people would love more and hate less, because I think that would help solve a whole lot of problems.

I'm not trying to be Pollyanna, and I know that I myself need improvement in all of these areas (well, except maybe for smiling more...if I smiled any more, people might start thinking that I'm a clown). But I do think that if everyone chose to work on these things--or even just one of these things--it could make a significant difference...in our families, in our friendships, in our workplaces, and in our communities.

So why don't we?

UPDATE: Ironically, just a couple of hours after I posted this, I read that Oxford American Dictionary has chosen their 2009 Word of the Year. And the winner? "Unfriend." Again--sad. Especially since one of their considerations in the selection is that the word "reflects the ethos of the year." Sigh.

Why blog?

2009-11-09T10:04:00.000-08:00

Lately, I've been wondering about my own motivations for blogging and pondering if I should continue. There are thousands, perhaps millions, of blogs out there, and each has its own reason for existing.

Some people blog because they've made a business of it. Some people blog to share interesting news or tips. Some blog because they love food. Some people blog to keep friends and family updated on their kids. Some people blog to express anger without having to talk to someone face-to-face. Some people blog to offer reviews of restaurants, books, etc. Some people blog to share their hobbies. Some people blog with pictures. Some blog just for fun.

So the question is: why do you blog?

And, out of curiosity, why do you read this blog?

Just some blog thinking on a Monday morning...

Halloween...or Christmas?

2009-11-02T08:08:00.000-08:00

Honestly...don't these end-of-the-year holidays all just run together anyway?

This year, we channeled Yukon Cornelius and Hermey, the misfit elf who wants to be a dentist, from the Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer t.v. special. And the best part? I can totally wear my costume again at Christmas dinner. And don't think that I won't.

updates from the hole

2009-10-22T07:32:00.000-07:00

Even though I've been living and working in my hole for the past couple of months, a few things of interest have happened (and no, mom, I'm not pregnant...sorry!)

* I celebrated one really fast year of marriage with Todd. It's amazing how much can happen in a year, and how quickly that year can happen. Really--it's mind-boggling. But in a good way.

* We got a couch! And a dining room table! The house is starting to feel less and less like a college dorm, which is a very positive thing. We no longer own a futon. I call that progress.

* In not-so-positive news, we have mice. Yes, after battling the fleas, and the termites, and the brown recluse spiders, instead of getting a respite, we get mice. I knew something was up when Tucker started acting really crazy (and yes, as his mom, I can tell the difference between his normal crazy and his something-is-actually-really-wrong crazy). And then I went to make a piece of toast the other day, and there was a mouse enjoying a snack inside the bread bag. Right--the mouse was still in the bread bag. That I was holding. I'm not sure which of us was more scared, but I know I definitely squealed the loudest.

* Todd was convinced that he wanted a yellow kitchen, so I spent one of my fall break days painting the kitchen yellow. It's definitely an improvement from the fluorescent lime green color, but now when I am cooking, I feel like I am standing in the middle of the sun. It is yellow. And now I think Todd is convinced that he doesn't want a yellow kitchen. Although it does go nicely with all of the cheese on the mouse-traps...

the hole

2009-08-31T07:47:00.000-07:00

Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

That would be the sound of me falling into a hole--the hole that I tend to fall into every year around this time. It's my fall hole. The school-is-back-in-session-and-everything-I-am-responsible-for-kicks-off-in-September-and-October-hole. The no-I-haven't-blogged-in-a-month-because-I'm-so-busy-that-I'm-just-trying-to-remember-to-breathe-hole. And, this year in particular it is also the Holy-crap-I-have-to-raise-a-million-dollars-and-the-economy-is-still-in-the-shitter-hole. That last one really does make me want to crawl in a hole and hide until May.

So, it will be relatively silent around these parts for the next couple of months, unless something just incredibly exciting and newsworthy happens. Like I find the winning lottery ticket at the bottom of the hole, or I somehow manage to get pregnant.

See you in November.

aww shucks

2009-08-05T07:21:00.000-07:00

I love seafood. It is one of the main reasons I enjoy taking trips to the coast. I always make a point of eating as much fresh fish and seafood as I possibly can whenever I am near the ocean.

In my trips to the gulf, I have learned that you are most likely to have a delicious dinner if you seek out the hidden, hole-in-the-wall local joints...or just go to a seafood market, buy the fish, and cook it at home yourself. Definitely stay away from all of the popular, beachfront places that have throngs of sunburned tourists gathered outside...for some reason, most of these places seem to think that the best way to prepare seafood is dip it in heavy batter and drop it in a deep fryer, which to me completely kills the whole point of having fresh fish, anyway.

On this last trip to PCB, I discovered a true gem: Hunt's Oyster Bar. It is located away from the main beach area in historic downtown St. Andrews. It looks like something straight out of the 70's...a rather plain square building, painted bright yellow, with lots of woodgrain detailing inside. The first night we went, I ordered an appetizer of the raw oysters...and as soon as I put the first oyster in my mouth, I thought "OH MY GOD...I have found heaven." The oysters there are the best I have ever had in my life...I'm talking melt-in-your-mouth, briny-but-not-bitter, smooth-as-butter oysters. LIKE BUTTAH, people.

(note: I did not eat all of these oysters. But I totally could have.)

For my main course, I had the crab cakes, which were exactly as crab cakes should be: mostly fresh, juicy crab meat--with just enough breading and seasonings to hold them together, barely (they were falling apart a bit on the plate, which--in my opinion--is a good thing). The sides were nothing to write home about--simple broccoli/cauliflower/carrot mixed veggies and corn on the cob--but the hushpuppies were delicious, crispy-fried on the outside and moist with good seasoning on the inside.

So when you have a meal like that, what do you do? You go back the next night. I usually try not to visit the same restaurant twice when I am on vacation, as I like to experience different things, but I made an exception in this case.

On the second visit, the ladies sat at the bar, right in front of one of the oyster shuckers, Rick. Rick was one of those people who obviously loves life and loves his job--he was singing and dancing around as he was shucking, and he made it his job to ensure that we had a great time. He kept the oysters and the wine flowing...and there was not a single bad oyster in the bunch. Some of them were almost as big as my hand, but I was up for the challenge.

After three dozen oysters and multiple glasses of wine split among the three of us, we got our checks, and the total was just over $12 each. Amazing. The Hunt's experience definitely ranks as my favorite in PCB...not just on this trip, but including all of my trips to the gulf. So, if you ever find yourself in the Bay County area of Florida, go find Hunts Oyster Bar, and ask for Rick, the "aphrodesiologist" (as noted on his business card). He'll make sure you have a shuckin' good time...and serve you with the freshest and most delicious oysters you've ever sucked down your gullet.

Yum.

what can chase away the blues?

2009-07-22T09:37:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Todd and I received a care package from The Princess Bakery out of Chattanooga. It was filled with deliciousness: different kinds of cookies, muffins, and blonde brownies (my favorite--I swear those brownies are manna from heaven.) Everything was completely divine, and it was definitely the highlight of my week.

So where is this Princess Bakery located? Well, it operates out of a place known as MaMaw's House, and it is run by two adorable young ladies:(this is a scanned image of the card that was included with the package--as you can tell, they are quite serious about their work.)

It seems that the girls had heard that their Aunt TT and Uncle Todd had a stressful couple of weeks, so they decided to send a little cheer our way. I mean, seriously, what better way is there to deal with stress than to throw cookies at it? Especially if those cookies have been homemade with love--and probably lots of giggles.

I'm not even going to tell you how much of that box we were able to polish off in just one night.

Thanks, sweet girls!

and how was your weekend?

2009-07-20T06:52:00.000-07:00

The quality of writing in this post probably won't be very good (not that it is usually stellar anyway), because I'm having trouble even putting words together today.

Let's just look at a few elements of my weekend, shall we?

* The drywall guy, Fred, stood us up again (yes, for the second time) this weekend, so we still don't have completed walls in the bathroom.

* I made about 5 trips a day to Home Depot, Lowes, etc. to purchase things, and then take them back when they didn't work, and then buy new ones, and then take those back when they didn't work---because apparently, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING can just be easy, especially not when it has to do with this house.

* If you've seen the house (or pictures), you know that the front door is beautiful, and it has a lovely large stained-glass style window. Well, last night while we were sitting on the front porch, the dogs started barking inside, and Todd went to bang on the window to make them hush--and as soon as his fist hit that beautiful glass window...KERACK! Shattered.

Ahhh...but that's not even the kicker. Wait til you hear this next part.

* We met the previous owners of the house yesterday, because they were back on the street visiting some of their old neighbors. We started talking to them about the house, and I mentioned that our next project was going to be the kitchen and laundry room addition. And she says, "Yes, that used to be a porch--but something had happened, and the people that were the previous owners decided to close it in." And I said, "Oh yeah, there was a kitchen fire, right?"--because that's what the next door neighbor had told me. And she looked at me kind of funny and said, "Well, something happened..." So I press her on it, and she finally says, "Someone was murdered in the house."

I'll give you a second to let that soak in.

So she tells me the story...about how an elderly black lady had lived there, and someone had cut into the house through the porch and killed her...and after her death, the family decided to enclose the porch. And as she is telling me the story, she says, "I knew that something must have happened because of the issues I was having. None of the neighbors wanted to tell me what happened, but I finally got the story." So I stupidly ask, "What issues were you having?" And she responds, "I would see her in the house."

Great. So if you are keeping track, in addition to living with fleas and termites and spiders, I'm also sharing my home with an older black woman who doesn't realize that she isn't living there anymore.

Can I move back now?

Please?

progress

2009-07-16T06:35:00.001-07:00

Look! We have walls...

And then, there was tile...

Progress makes my heart happy.

noises off

2009-07-14T10:49:00.000-07:00

One thing that this moving/renovating/exterminating process has taught me is that I don't deal well with disarray. With every single move I have ever made in the past, all of the boxes have been unpacked and everything put away within 48 hours of returning the moving truck. That is just how I operate. Call me anal, call me a control/clean freak, slap an OCD sticker on my forehead...label me as you will.

It's this simple: when my house is out of order, my mind is out of order.

And I can tell it has been really bad this past week, because there have been so many times that I have been driving along in my car when, all of a sudden, I realize that the radio is turned down, and I have been driving in silence the whole time. But the noise in my head was so loud--the thoughts racing so quickly and the anxieties swirling so furiously--that I didn't even realize it was completely quiet around me.

There are a lot of things I can deal with--a lot of stressors that don't bother me much--but I am discovering that home-stress affects me deeply. I NEED for my house to be a haven. A clean, orderly, comfortable, anxiety-free haven. I want home to be a place where I can drop my worries outside the door and relax--not pick up a whole new bundle of worries. And when my home doesn't feel like that haven, I am thrown out of whack.

So if I seem off to you-- if I appear to be down or pensive or discombobulated or just plain crazy--you know why.

And if I'm quiet, I don't mean to be--I'm just trying to make sense of all the noises in my head.

please excuse the mess

2009-07-09T12:46:00.000-07:00

So we moved into the new house on Monday, and I can't believe it is only Thursday, because as hard as we've been working, it feels like we have been there a month. Amid fighting fleas and tackling termites, we have managed to get about 80% of the boxes unpacked, and Todd has already begun the renovation of the bathroom.

Unfortunately, I didn't manage to get any "before" shots prior to Todd jumping into the project, so if you didn't get to see it in person, just imagine that walls used to be here-- except that they were all moldy and mildewy and basically falling apart and crumbling into the shower.

Here's the demo progress...

Taking it all down to the studs

Wall where the sink used to live

A wide view

I love that, in this shot, you can see Todd's "Axe" bath sponge hanging from the shower head (he is still determinedly using the shower--I am opting to utilize the facilities at the Y.)

I'm calling this series "The (re)Making of Mansfield Manor." Stay tuned for more updates.

sweet home sunnymeade

2009-07-02T12:27:00.000-07:00

Dear newest homeowner of 1217 Sunnymeade:

Although we've never met, and we only know each other through scribbled signatures on contracts, I wanted to share with you some information about the house you are buying.

I know it seems a simple house--just some bricks and plaster with a little wiring and plumbing woven throughout--but it is a special place. I don't know very much about the history of the home, but I know that in the last four years I have grown to love this house more than any other house I have lived in.

The first time that I looked at the house with my realtor, I fell in love. I put in an offer immediately, but unfortunately so did someone else, and their offer was accepted over mine. So I kept looking, but I continued to compare everything I saw to Sunnymeade, and nothing else could hold a candle. Luckily, the other contract fell through after a couple of weeks, and I got a second chance. Their misfortune was my blessing, and I closed on the house in April 2005.

When I first bought her, she was rather plain. The previous owner had done some renovation work, but had painted all of the walls white and all of the trim yellow. Four years later, I still can't understand why that ever seemed like a good idea. So, my first project was infusing the house with color. I had lived in apartments for a few years, and I was so tired of beige and white walls that I vowed I would paint every single wall in my new home with color. And I did.

Before:

After:

Although your home inspection revealed a laundry list of little things that needed to be fixed, I can assure you that she is a sound home. A true brick house. She is an older model, showing some signs of wear and tear, but her foundation is firm. I always pay attention to the energy of a house, and I can tell you that she has a happy soul. I've always felt safe here--even when I was living alone.

One thing you might not discover immediately is that you have amazing neighbors. Alma, the elderly lady next door, is a watchdog. She once almost called the police on my ex-boyfriend, because he locked himself out of the house and she saw him climbing in one of the windows. She is hard of hearing, so she won't understand a word you say, but she will happily talk to you. Just don't tell her family that she comes out on the side porch for cigarettes.

Definitely go to the Hargrove brother's Labor Day party. My first year on Sunnymeade, I received the party flyer in my mailbox, and I decided to check it out. I am so glad that I did. It's a great party and a fabulous way to meet all of your neighbors. (Even though we are moving, I still plan to show up this year.) The Hargroves are good people, and they will make sure that you feel welcome on the street. I am going to miss my neighbors. Terribly.

Since living on Sunnymeade, I have done a few updates on the house. We ripped off the ugly white vinyl shutters, and Todd helped me build the new wooden shutters. The pantry in the kitchen is also Todd's handiwork--it was one of his Christmas presents to me (being married to a carpenter definitely has its privileges!) If I could rip that pantry out and take it with me, I totally would. It is a work of art, made with love, and I adore it.

The backyard used to be enclosed by a chain link fence, but our dog Tucker could jump it as easily as an Olympic track athlete could clear a hurdle, so we ripped it out last summer and built the wood fence. Many of our friends and neighbors pitched in on the project. It was a labor of love, and my friend Haley can attest that it is sound, because I personally checked it out with my face (which explains just one of the inside jokes you'll find scribbled on the chalkboard walls in the bathroom.) We specifically built the fence very tall with the "pretty side" in so that Tucker couldn't jump it. He can still jump it. But as long as you don't have a crazy-ass dog, it should suffice just fine. (Tucker also had the distinction of being the "loudest dog in the neighborhood"--so the neighbors probably won't miss him quite so much.)

I also wish that I could take the landscaping with me, as we just planted everything last summer and have only had a year to enjoy it. I was afraid that many of the plants wouldn't survive the intense heat last summer, but they pulled through and look amazing. Even the oak tree in the back yard that I bought for $5 and the dogs half destroyed is blooming. There must be some magic dirt in that yard.

Just a few of the things that have happened while I lived on Sunnymeade:

I met and fell in love with my husband (we almost held a luau-themed wedding in the backyard, but decided to elope instead. On a side note, I have a lot of luau supplies if you should need them).

We adopted Tucker. Apparently, that didn't make our lives crazy enough, because a year later, we adopted Levi. You can blame them for all of the dog hair, which I am sure you will continue to find in corners and crevices for years to come.

We hosted numerous dinner parties, brunches, game nights, cookouts, and hang-outs.

We entertained multiple nieces and nephews, and entertained the idea of having our own children (part of the reason for our move).

A few other random notes of interest about the house:

If you ever decide to plant a garden, don't put it in the back left-hand corner of the yard. The black walnut tree's roots emit some sort of chemical into the ground that inhibits the growth of vegetables. We found that out the hard way.

The corner between the arches is a great place for a Christmas tree, and you can see the lights through the windows on the front door.

Speaking of the windows on the front door--dogs love them. It provides a perfect lookout, so they can make sure you know if someone is coming.

Space is limited in the house, but the upstairs area can serve as an impromptu dining room for a large dinner party. As long as everyone doesn't mind sitting on pillows.

Oh, and at one point, Joe Dirt lived here.

As you can tell, a lot has happened in the last four years in this house--it is a history that is full of love, laughter, sweat, tears, friends, neighbors, family, and dogs. I could share many more stories from my time at 1217 Sunnymeade, but now it is time for you to create your own stories. Enjoy your new home, and please take care of her, because she is precious. Love your neighbors, and they will love you (and sometimes even mow your lawn).

Welcome home.
TT

writing my recs

2009-06-30T08:20:00.000-07:00

I have used this blog more than once to talk about some of my negative experiences with businesses, so I thought I would try to balance things out and offer a couple of glowing recommendations.

Since I just posted a picture of my fun new haircut, I will start off by showing some love to my fabuloso hairstylist, Eve. Eve is absolutely magnificent. Very rarely have I been to a stylist whom I trusted enough to say "Do whatever you think will look best." But with Eve, no worries. She definitely knows hair--she knows what cuts will work with specific hair textures; she can make cowlics behave; she will shoot straight with you and let you know if what you are asking for won't work on you; she won't try to push the expensive Aveda products on you, but will recommend what you could use instead. In short, she rocks. You can find Eve at Bishops Salon in the Bellevue area of Nashville.

Also in relation to a recent post, I would highly recommend my general practitioner, Dr. Christopher Peterson. After 14 years of living in Nashville and just going to minute clinics when illnesses would arise, I finally decided it was time for me to find a primary care physician. I picked Dr. Peterson randomly out of a Humana network providers list, and boy, did I luck out. He is a very nice guy, and he takes his time with his patients. He asks good questions, listens well, and has helpful answers and effective solutions. And I have never had to wait more than 10 minutes past my appointment time to see him, which is also a big plus in my book. He can be found at Heritage Medical Associates in the Bellevue office.

And yes, I realize that both of these people I have recommended are in Bellevue, which some would consider to be about as convenient as East Africa, but trust me...in my opinion, they are worth the drive.

chop chop

2009-06-25T07:23:00.000-07:00

Just thought it was time for a new short summer style...

No ponytails or optical illusions here...that's all the hair that's left on my head.

e. coli party in my belly

2009-06-24T12:22:00.000-07:00

I think this is my sign to stop eating grocery store sushi.

Ugh.

tiresome

2009-06-12T07:56:00.001-07:00

I think I have mentioned this before, but I do not have very good luck with tires. I go through tires like the octo-mom goes through diapers. Seriously, it's bad.

So I really shouldn't have been surprised yesterday when my running partner pointed out that the metal tread was showing on one of my tires, which meant that it needed to be replaced immediately.

But when I started to think about it, things didn't add up. Because I'd had so many flats and mishaps, I knew that none of the tires on my car were original, and all had been replaced in the last couple of years. Should they really be wearing out that quickly?

So I dug through all of the receipts in my glove box and found the ones for the tires currently on the car. The oldest tire had been replaced in Dec. 2007 when there were 36,000 miles on the car. I checked the odometer, which showed 68,000 miles. So the tire had 32,000 miles on it--definitely less than the 50,000 mile warranty.

I buy all of my tires from American Tire in Rivergate, so I gathered the receipts and drove there to make my case. I showed all of the info to the clerk, and he went out to investigate the tires. He confirmed that I needed a new tire--actually two new tires, because the other front tire was worn pretty badly as well.

But about that warranty....ahh, it's always that word "limited" in the limited warranty that screws you, isn't it?

He said that based on the wear on the tires, my car was probably out of alignment, and it also looked like the tires had not been rotated regularly. So, warranty voided.

Ok. Hold up. So I referred again to the multiple receipts, which showed a timeline of all the tires I had purchased over the last 3 years (I have bought 7 tires from American Tire in 3 years. Seven, people--and I only own one car). And I asked--"Wouldn't you all have rotated the tires each time I got a new one? Isn't that part of your responsibility?" And I even pointed out on one receipt where they checked the alignment last summer when a tire was replaced.

Was that good enough? Oh honey, of course not. So if you ever hope to redeem a warranty on your tires, take it from me---you better be documenting that you rotate your tires every 5,000 miles and that you have your alignment checked regularly. Of course, then they would probably find some other reason to exclude you, like "Have you taken a road trip out of state? Too bad. VOID." Or "It looks like you've parked in grass at some point. VOID." Or "Have you every carried more than 200 pounds in your car? VOID."

Come on, American Tire. Seven tires. Regular customer. You'd think I'd at least get a free smoothie at this point. Sigh.

UPDATE: I did a little research on the Goodyear Integrity tire (the tires that were in question) and apparently, they are just crap tires--even though they are supposed to be the "mid-range" option (in "Good. Better. Best." they would be the "Better"). Oh well. Now I've got 2 new ones on my car. Next time, I'm going with Kellys.

Lord have mercy

2009-06-09T15:22:00.001-07:00

Video Recaps | Full Episodes | Webisodes

I am ashamed to admit it, but I managed to get sucked into a couple of episodes of "I'm a Celebrity...Get Me Out of Here!" Yes, I know...completely and utterly shameful. And all I have to say is, oh my God, Heidi and Spencer, shut up!

I mean, I can't personally speak for Jesus, but I seriously doubt that these are two people he wants representing him on national TV. As a Christian, I can say that they certainly aren't people that I want representing Christianity as a faith. No wonder so many people think that Christians are crazy and obnoxious--because look at the examples that are so readily available to them.

Honestly, it's enough to make me want to travel all the way to Costa Rica just to slap some people. Forgive me, Lord, but I just think that some people deserve a good old fashioned smiting.

dog days

2009-06-02T07:28:00.000-07:00

Saturday:

Sunday:

Around this time of year, the cool kitchen floor is one of their favorite places to be. I just didn't have the heart to tell them that it's only the beginning of June, and we haven't even gotten close to the true, sweltering, dog-days of summer.

60 days and counting to insanity

2009-05-28T19:15:00.000-07:00

So we've got 60 days to find a new place to live (no pressure), and do you think that I am at all stressed or discombobulated by it?

Well, let's see...how did today go?

1. Broke down at work and cried when I heard that interest rates jumped from 4.8% to 5.5% in just one day.

2. Completely lost my train of thought in the middle of a speech at a luncheon and skipped some important information.

3. Showed up at someone's house at 5:30 p.m. for a party that didn't start until 6:30 p.m.

4. Got home and realized that I walked around all day with the "Medium" sticker still stuck on the outside of my new skirt.

Umm, yeah. I think the stress might be getting to me.

moving on up

2009-05-20T11:57:00.000-07:00

Even though this picture is quite possibly the worst picture taken of me ~~today~~ ~~this month~~ ~~this year~~ ever (honestly, I look like I swallowed a refrigerator for breakfast and then styled my bangs with superglue), I decided to go ahead and post it, because I am just so darn proud of my little sis.
Congratulations, Miss Nema, on successfully finishing middle school. Now it's off to the high school adventure. I hope my nerves can take it.

our boys

2009-05-14T10:13:00.000-07:00

I thought I would share some great new pictures of Goober and Goonie (their newest nicknames), taken at our Mother's Day brunch by the wonderfully talented Erica.

She somehow managed to catch Tucker in the one shining moment he was not barking--and even got him to smile for the camera. That feat alone should earn her a photography award. They look so adorable in these pictures that you would never even suspect that one of them is The Most Vocal Dog in the Entire World (and if they discover other worlds, I have no doubt that he could qualify for Most Vocal Dog in the Universe), and the other one is the Destroyer of Everything, able to rip apart magazines, shoes, remote controls, etc. in 2 seconds flat.

Ahhh...but we love them. I mean, come on...look at those faces!

weekend wrap-up: symmetry and kid's menus

2009-05-11T10:11:00.000-07:00

I'm not certain, but I think I might have broken my right pinky toe Friday night. I crammed it on a chair leg pretty hard--twice (because, you know, once just wasn't quite painful enough), and judging from the swelling and the purple and blue coloring that has spread from the toe onto the right side of my foot, I did a bit of damage. On a positive note, I had broken my left pinky toe back in college, so now both my pinky toes are all wonky, and symmetry has returned to my feet.

On Sunday we had Todd's family over for Mother's Day brunch, and half of our guests were children. I tried to make sure that the menu was pretty kid-friendly--here's a list of what we had:

Cheese plate
Sausage balls
Mini quiches (florentine and lorraine)
Bagel crisps with dill cream cheese and smoked salmon
Bacon, egg and cheese strata
Parmesan potato pancake
Caprese salad
Fruit salad

The sausage balls were a hit--of course, we didn't tell everyone that they were actually soy-sage balls until after they had all been consumed. I expected that the strata would go over much better with the kids than it did, because in my mind, I thought "Bacon. Eggs. Cheese. Bread. What kids don't like those things?" I think in their minds, though, the thought process went more like this: "If that is bacon, eggs, and cheese--why is it square? And why did it come out of a casserole dish? Dude, I know what casseroles are--they are things adults use to hide veggies. I'm sticking to the potatoes and fruit." So, the fruit salad disappeared pretty quickly, but Todd and I will probably be eating on the quiches, smoked salmon, and caprese salad for a few days. And I might need to practice cooking for kids a little more before we have our own. Chicken fingers and fries, anyone?

sunshine of the mind

2009-05-07T08:43:00.001-07:00

So I could write yet another blog about the weather...and how rain seems to have become a daily constant. I could talk about how it has gotten to the point where it isn't even good for the plants anymore, because it is drowning the farms. I could say that it is starting to make me SADD, and it gives me yet another reason why 2009 and I aren't friends.

But instead, I am going to try to focus on a couple of positives. Things that make me happy.

1. Electronic hole punches. Ok, not that using a manual hole punch is really all that difficult--unless you have raging carpal tunnel syndrome--but have you used one of these electric ones? I have been assembling multiple reunion planning packets this week, and this gadget has made my life so easy. I can punch perfect holes in 20 pages at once with just my pinky. Pretty powerful. And awesome.

2. Long-term friendships. Today is the birthday of one of my dearest friends. We are now both 32, which means that we have known each other for 20 years...and amazingly, after all that time we still love each other and enjoy each other's company. Most marriages don't even last that long. But even without a binding contract, we have managed to put up with each other's madness. She has seen me through many unfortunate hairstyle choices, some pretty random dating relationships, and a whole lot of laughter and tears. There are far too many inside jokes to even begin a list. But only she understands why fishing lures + eyebrows = funny.

Here's to the little things--and the big things-- that make this life brighter. Even when it won't stop raining.

Don't panic

2009-04-30T08:06:00.001-07:00

So the first case of swine flu was just confirmed in Tennessee.

And it is in Nashville.

And the infected student attended a school right down the street.

And a bunch of students from that school were just on our campus a couple of days ago for an admissions event.

So do you think the Bellevue Wal-mart is sold out of face masks yet?

for love of whimsical things

2009-04-27T13:18:00.000-07:00

I was flipping through a coworker's graphic design magazine, and an ad for a website caught my eye.

So I visited allymoon, and I fell in love. I think I want one of everything from the collections.

I might just buy a pocket mirror for my purse, my car, my office, my nightstand, and anywhere else I can think of stashing a tiny mirror. And I don't even like looking at myself that much...although it can be helpful to know when you've got something stuck in your teeth.

curb your enthusiasm

2009-04-20T09:33:00.000-07:00

So last week I blogged about my passion for food, my voracious appetite, and my distaste for dieting.

And now, I may have to eat my words.

You see, I had a humbling experience over the weekend (and by "humbling experience" I actually mean a complete and total meltdown that involved alligator tears, blotchy red cry-face, and clothing being hurled at the mirror), and it made me realize that I'm going to have to cut back a little on my consumption. Or else my clothes closet is going to turn into a non-functional art installation entitled "Smallness that Mocks Me." Of course, Todd's response to my lament was "But isn't it a good thing to get to go out and buy a whole new wardrobe???" Ah, my sweet, sweet husband.

So, starting today, a few things are going to happen.
1. I am going to start exercising much more regularly. I might even invest in this program--I've heard some pretty good reviews.
2. I am going to cut back on my portion sizes.
3. I am going to alter my diet slightly, limiting myself to the following things:
* fruits and vegetables
* fish
* a very small amount of cheese/dairy
* non-gluten grains

And maybe, if I stick to this, it will be safe for the full-length mirror and I to see each other again...

hungry

2009-04-03T13:40:00.000-07:00

I found a new snack obsession:

Notice that the bag is already half-empty in this picture. That's because I managed to inhale half the bag in the time that it took me to drive from World Market to my house.

I have a problem.

You see, I love food. I love talking about food, reading about food, thinking about food, eating food, shopping for food, cooking food, trying new food...sometimes, I even dream about food. It is truly a wonder that I don't weigh 300 pounds, because I eat ALL THE TIME.

I hear people talk about "forgetting" to eat, and I think "how in the world is that possible?" When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I think about is what I want for breakfast. And by the time I have finished breakfast, it is very likely that I have already planned out my meals and snacks for the remainder of the day.

I also know some people (like my husband) who usually eat just one meal a day and the idea of that hurts me. Seriously, my stomach aches right now just thinking about limiting myself to one solitary food experience per day. That sounds way too close to fasting.

When I go to lunch in the cafeteria, I watch my co-workers dab little bits of cottage cheese on their plates, add a few pieces of lettuce and maybe 2 ounces of chicken, and call it a meal. Meanwhile, I find the biggest container possible and load it up. I don't eat a side salad--I don't even eat a bowl of salad--I eat a mountain of salad. The word "dainty" does not have a place anywhere near my appetite.

Fortunately, my metabolism has been able to keep up with my appetite for most of my life, but it is starting to slow on me. Love handles, muffin-tops, and cellulite have begun to make an appearance on my body, but I refuse to deny myself deliciousness. Diet is a dirty four-letter word in my book.

So if you wonder why I drag myself out of bed at 5:00 in the morning to go to the gym, or why I challenge myself to run half-marathons...well, it's simple. Is it because I love the smell of sweat and spandex in the morning? God no. Is it because I enjoy the way my knees feel like they might explode after 5 miles of jogging? Not so much.

I do it because I LOVE. TO. EAT. But I also quite enjoy having my pants fit. Sigh.

Did I mention?

2009-04-01T11:55:00.001-07:00

I'm pregnant--we're pretty sure it's twins.
We just adopted two cats and a kangaroo.
We sold the house--don't know where we're gonna live.
Todd might take a job in Kalamazoo.

I had a great big steak for lunch.
There was a bomb threat today at school.
I won the lottery--I have a hunch.
Oh, and of course...April Fool!

This was a total rip-off (and a feeble one at that) of Shel Silverstein's piece:

Oh Have You Heard
Oh have you heard it’s time for vaccinations?
I think someone put salt into your tea.
They’re giving us eleven-month vacations.
And Florida has sunk into the sea.

Oh have you heard the President has measles?
The principal has just burned down the school.
Your hair is full of ants and purple weasels—
APRIL FOOL!

whenever I see your smiling face

2009-03-23T12:25:00.000-07:00

I smile a lot. It's chronic. I guess you could say that I'm generally a happy person.

I mean, come on, when I've got people like this in my life:

how in the world could I not smile?

You can choose your friends, but you're pretty much stuck with your family. And I have to say that I feel extremely lucky that I'm stuck with a bunch of fun, loving goofballs as relatives...and as friends.

because i just might throw a sheep at you

2009-03-15T14:37:00.001-07:00

I enjoy Facebook. I really do. It's fun to connect with friends across the country that I may or may not get to see very often, to stay updated on their lives, and to see pictures and videos of their families, trips, etc. It's an uber-easy way to network and stay in touch.

But.

Well, it's just that I don't love the applications. So if you try to send me something and I ignore you, please don't take it personally. The applications that I have allowed to "access my profile" are already starting to annoy me. I mean, I have enough Lil Green Plants to start my own rain forest. Or at least to raise suspicion from any virtual cops that I might be involved in some kind of online illegal growing ring. And then, of course, there's the Flair, which makes me feel like I should be an extra in Office Space--or a part-time server at TGI Friday's.

Maybe I don't like it because I don't understand it...or maybe it's because it seems to take the online virtual realtionship just a bit too far. I mean, if you want to Pass Me a Drink, I'd be happy to meet you down at the Edge or your bar of choice. And if you'd like to Hug me...well, if you're my friend, you probably know where you could find me and launch a full-fledged hug attack. It's just too hard to hug a computer screen.

So, please, feel free to comment on my status or write on my Wall or tag me in a picture (as long as it isn't too incriminating)...but if you want to Poke me or give me a Gift or recruit me to your Cause, just don't get offended when I choose "Ignore".

I promise I'm still your Friend.

moving

2009-03-12T09:11:00.000-07:00

So here we are in Tennessee, which most anyone with geographical sense would consider to be in the South, and some might even go so far as to call it the "Deep South."

And yet, it is March 12th, just one day before Spring Break officially begins, and it is 35 degrees cold and sleeting outside. Seriously, I think some schools are even closed.

I can imagine you reading this and saying, "Dear God, is she complaining about the weather AGAIN?"

Why yes, YES I AM. Because I live in TENNESSEE. And my favorite thing about living in the South is not the funny accents or the fried chicken or the insane football fever--it is the lovely, temperate weather. And right now, I am sorely disappointed.

If I have to put on my dog-hair-covered winter coat one more time, I just might scream. And then move to Florida.

Un-unique, or-- a snowflake, just like everyone else

2009-03-06T19:37:00.000-08:00

Out of curiosity, I did a search of my name on Facebook, just to see what would come up. And I discovered that there are no fewer than 75 of me on Facebook. Seventy-four other people with my cognomen...on Facebook alone.

And I remember the days when I couldn't even find my name on a keychain in the giftshop at Cracker Barrel.

underneath

2009-03-04T15:50:00.000-08:00

I helped chaperone a sixth grade field trip to the 12th Avenue Mosque today. As I was getting dressed this morning, it didn't occur to me that when you go into a mosque, you have to remove your shoes.

So what was I wearing underneath my tall black boots today?

Yep, Scooby Doo socks. I lost any air of superiority over those kids just as soon as I took off my shoes.

fever

2009-03-02T09:03:00.000-08:00

So I was going through the "My Pictures" file on the computer, trying to clean things up a bit, and I came across this photo, taken at one of the many impromptu porch parties from last summer:

When I look at this photo, what immediately jumps out at me?
1. flip-flops and sandals
2. tank tops
3. everything around us is green

Have I mentioned that I AM SO READY FOR SPRING?

Oh, and by the way, it is March 2nd, and there is snow on the ground. "In like a lion", my arse. How about "in like a polar bear"? Sigh.

the twenties

2009-02-26T07:25:00.001-08:00

Yes, I know.

On Friday, I promised something that I have not yet delivered. I said that I would post 10 memories from my first decade of life, 10 from the second, and 10 from the third. And what do you see below you? Just 20 memories. And then they stop.

Does that mean that I can't remember much between the ages of 20 and 30? Of course not--those memories should be even more salient to me than the earlier ones (and even though I discovered alcohol in college, I didn't drink THAT much).

It's just that, when I approach the decade of my twenties, there's this period of time that sticks out like a sore thumb. I thought about glossing over it and just picking memories from the early and late twenties, but that 2-3 year stretch in the middle just stares at me like, "uh-uh...no way you can deal with this decade and avoid me." So I continued to sit on those memories from my teens, staring out into my past future, paralyzed.

There were a lot of amazing times in my twenties: the last couple of years at Vandy, a summer of living and working in New York, a backpacking trip through France and Italy, my first job, serving as a volunteer youth leader, working at camps, buying my first home, girls' weekends in Colorado, etc. It would be easy to focus solely on those experiences.

But it also wouldn't seem fair. I could pretend that there were no skeletons in my closet, no demons in my past...but it wouldn't make them go away.

In my twenties, I got married. Perhaps it happened a little too quickly, but I can't use that as an excuse, because I knew full well what marriage meant and what I was committing myself to. But not long after I said I do, I decided in my selfishness that I really didn't. So I checked out. And I treated my husband horribly in the hopes that he would just agree to divorce me.

Remember when I said that divorce isn't ever pretty? Well, it wasn't. And during that period of time, I discovered the absolute ugliest side of me--a side that I never knew existed--a side that I wished couldn't belong to me. When I look back, I think, "Was that really me? That couldn't have been me. That is so not me." And yet it was. I morphed into someone who had absolutely no concern for anyone else's feelings but my own. I lied to everyone, including myself. And I hurt a lot of people. A lot of people who loved me. And a lot of people that I loved.

And now, years later, I recognize that it is past and I can't do anything to change it. I know that God and friends and family have all forgiven me, and I continue to work on forgiving myself. And I know that there will probably be a few people who read this and think, "Good lord, let it GO already. Sheesh." I know. And I try. But at the same time, I think there is an element of that experience that I will carry around with me for the rest of my life. And maybe I should. Maybe those memories should haunt me, so that I remember how far I can fall, and keep me vigil so that I never become that person again.

So there you go. Who knew you were going to get such a raw journal entry for the third installment of my series? I certainly didn't when I started this thing. I promise to keep the next post a little lighter (and not as excruciatingly long as the past few have been).

Light the corners of my mind

2009-02-20T09:16:00.000-08:00

On to that second decade of life--and what a rich decade it was, with so much material to choose from. The hard part here is going to be narrowing down those memories to a mere ten.

1. My parents divorced when I was ten. I have many vivid memories from that time: the night that the rose-colored glasses shattered, and I suddenly realized that my parents weren't happily married...the first time that I saw my father cry...breaking down into tears in the middle of my 5th grade class as I was trying to process what was happening. I won't go into all of the details that I remember, because, well, divorce isn't pretty. It just never is. (I thought I'd get the heavy one over with first.)
2. I remember being teased mercilessly by other girls in the locker room when I got my first training bra in 7th grade. "Why are you wearing that--you don't need a bra." "Are you just trying to cover up how flat you are?" "You probably just got one 'cause some of us did." Yeah, I think this one falls under the category of "If they could see me now..."
3. I was so happy to change schools after 7th grade. At BBS, I was an enormous nerd. Braces, permed hair, puff-paint t-shirts, awkwardly tall and lanky, teacher's kid. I was the girl that was only "popular" in the sense that everyone else wanted to copy my homework. I was so ready to get out of there, and to have the opportunity to transform myself into someone new.
4. I adored high school. No really, I LOVED it. I know a lot of people who would rather forget their high school experience, but I think of it fondly. I loved the school, I loved the teachers, and I had a phenomenal group of close friends. That's probably more of a fact than a memory--but so many memories from my teenage years are tied to that school and those friends.
5. In my high school biology class, we had to dissect fetal pigs. I remember having to crack open my little baby pig's mouth and break his jaw. This experiment also inspired my first step toward vegetarianism. I would go to the lunchroom after class and see the ham that they were serving, and all I could smell was formaldehyde. No pork products for me after that.
6. I had four wrecks between the ages of 16 and 18. The worst was the last one--a head-on collision that completely totaled my Ford Escort. I had just met a friend at Big River Grille for dinner, and since I wasn't too hungry, I ordered the soft pretzel appetizer as my meal. After the crash, I remember thinking, "Man, that really would have sucked if my last meal on earth had been a couple of pretzels."
7. For one of my birthday parties, we rented out the clubhouse at my dad's apartments and had a big bash. We actually got the cops called on us, because we were having a particularly heated game of "testosterone vs. estrogen" volleyball. Not sure why, but our group of friends did a lot of group activities like that--"testosterone vs. estrogen". Probably because we were dorks.
8. Destin was a very popular vacation destination for Baylor-ites. One one trip (not sure if it was sophomore or senior year), a few of us were really stupid with the sunscreen. Two of my friends positively fried the tops of their feet and could barely wear shoes, and I managed to put sunscreen on my stomach and back, but missed my sides. For almost 4 years, the skin on my sides was darker than the skin on my front and back. It looked like I had a skin disease.
9. My freshman year at Vandy, three of my friends and I drove down to Sewanee for Fall Party Weekend. I realized what a crazy weekend it would be as soon as we walked into the ATO house and saw a parent--not a student-- hanging from the rafters. Lots of other memories from that weekend, but I'll keep those to myself.
10. I got my first tattoo when I was 18, at TJ's Tattoos in Chattanooga. It didn't hurt as much as I expected it to--I equated it to an extended bee sting. My parents had no clue, and I tried to keep it hidden. I succeeded until my mom walked into the bathroom one day when I wasn't completely dressed and spotted it. She said, "You realize that's permanent, right?" And I said, "Yes." And that was that. It went much better than I anticipated.

As I am going back and reading these, I am thinking that I need to go through some of my old albums and see if I can't find some pictures to accompany these memories...

Thirty-two

2009-02-19T13:54:00.000-08:00

I get older on Sunday. I always like saying it that way--as if I'm actually aging an entire year in just one day. It's Saturday, and I'm just 31, and then kabloom! Sunday, I'm 32.

In conjunction with the occasion, I thought I might challenge myself to a little exercise on my blog. Today, I will post ten memories from the first decade of my life, tomorrow, ten from the next decade, and so on. I'll won't think too long and hard on what memories I will share, I'll just list whatever pops into my head...which could be funny, dangerous, or incredibly boring. Let's just start and see what happens...

1. I recall getting my first puppy. I was so freakin' excited, and I remember sitting out by the carport with my dad, trying to think of a name for the bouncy little white ball of fluff. Of course, my ideas all sounded like "Benji" or "Lassie" (I was not the most creative person at the age of four), but we finally settled on Misty. The first thing I taught Misty was to jump up on me whenever I slapped my palms against my thighs. Ironically, now it seems like all I ever do is try to get my dogs not to jump up on me...or on every single person who walks through the front door.
2. From the time that I was two until I was almost five, we lived in a house on Timberlane Trail. I loved the name of the street--it had such a nice ring to it. It also had the same initials that I did.
3. My sister was born when I was four years old. I don't think I really minded sharing my parents with someone else. For the longest time, my parents didn't think that my sister would ever talk, though, because I always did the talking for her.
4. My intestinal issues manifested themselves when I was very young. I remember spending a lot of time in the bathroom with either my mom or my grandmother, just trying to do my duty. Yes, I said "duty." And I totally meant to.
5. I was an avid reader. One time, my Kindergarten teacher had to run to the school office, so she left me in charge and gave me a book to read to the class. I was doing pretty well until I got stumped on the word "engineer," and being the stickler that I was for details, I couldn't just skip the word and move on. So I sat there, stuck. It was mortifying. Especially considering that my dad was a mechanical engineer.
6. I felt slightly redeemed from that experience when I became the school spelling bee champ in 2nd grade.
7. One day while I was watching TV (most likely Laverne & Shirley) and eating an apple, I almost choked on apple peel. When my mom realized that I couldn't breathe, she grabbed me by my ankles, turned me upside down, and shook me until it fell out. I've been very cautious when eating apples since then.
8. I had my first official boyfriend in 2nd grade. His name was Craig, and he was a twin. He was also my first kiss (if you count a quick peck on the lips that happened behind the water fountain on the playground). We actually had to try it twice, because the first time, we moved so quickly that we missed each other. That's what happens when you close your eyes way too early.
9. I loved the Little House on the Prairie book series. I really wanted to be Laura Ingalls and live in her dugout house (from On the Banks of Plum Creek).
10. I experienced my first wreck at my grandmother's house. I was riding down the driveway on a push scooter, and when I hit the part where the driveway met the street, I flipped, went flying over the handlebars, and landed face first on the street. I knocked out a tooth and ended up with a bloody forehead, nose, and chin. I don't think I ever scared my grandmother so much as when I walked through the door with my bloody face.

A random list? Yes. Such is my life. And my thought processes.

For tomorrow: ten from ages 10-20

my hairy valentine

2009-02-13T11:55:00.000-08:00

Considering the state of the economy, I'm guessing that many people are trying to figure out how they can show their love to their significant others on Valentine's Day, without spending $100 on dinner or $50 on roses, etc., etc.

So, what's my suggestion?

Ummm...get creative?

(Just in case you don't know my husband and you aren't very good at spotting obvious photoshop jobs--this is not actually Todd. Todd is much less hairy from the neck up, and much more hairy from the neck down.)

Happy V-Day everyone...and honey, I love your guts.

2009 continues its malevolent march

2009-02-09T13:07:00.000-08:00

Today marked the passing of my aunt, Mrs. Barbara Posey. I wish that I could say that she lived a long and healthy life, but she was only 66 years old, and she spent the last 6 years dealing with dimentia and other after-effects of multiple strokes. She will be sorely missed, although in the midst of the sadness, there is thankfulness that she is no longer suffering.

I don't know why, but when I remember her, I always think of her laughing. I think that she laughed a lot when the whole family got together. Her family was her world.

During these last few years, when her mind wasn't working well, she would often call my mom and have the same conversation, every time. She wanted to go to Hawaii. She was terrified of flying, but she didn't care. She wanted to go to Hawaii, and she wanted to take mom with her.

So, Aunt Barbara, for you, I hope that heaven looks a whole lot like Hawaii.

Much love to you, and may you rest in peace.

A letter to 2009

2009-02-02T10:33:00.000-08:00

Dear 2009,

I think we have started off on the wrong foot. Let's just say that if January was your way of introducing yourself, then you seriously need to work on making a better entrance. Perhaps you should swing by Borders and pick up a book on how to win friends and influence people, because frankly, your first impression stinks.

I realize that we have only known each other for a month now, so I am trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, and I hope that we can work this out and become friends. But let me be honest and say that, based on my feelings right now, I'd rather just go ahead and trade you in for 2010 and pretend that you never existed.

So, howzabout you lighten up a little bit, stop coming on so strong with all of the negativity, and let's see where this can go. I'm trying to be hopeful, so don't ruin it with February. Please.

Thanks,
TT

How to Age Four Years in One Day

2009-01-30T12:47:00.000-08:00

I was asked by a former colleague of mine at another independent school to visit her Print Journalism class today as a guest lecturer. I was pretty excited about it, because I thoroughly enjoyed my one shining year as a Latin teacher, and I had not been in a classroom since then. One of the fun things about being a teacher is that you become a student, too, as you are constantly studying and preparing for your lessons and trying to find new information that you can share. I felt like I was back in my element last night as I was reading articles with my highlighter poised over the pages, rehearsing in my head some of the points that I wanted to cover in my presentation.

So as students were wandering into the class today, I noticed a familiar face, and my colleague asked me, "Do you remember Reed?" Oh my goodness--it was one of my former Latin students. How exciting! So I responded, "Of course, yes! Reed, how are you? What year are you now?" And, about the same time that I noticed he was about 3 feet taller than I remembered him, he said, "I'm a senior."

Um, okay...when I taught him in Latin I, he was in 8TH GRADE. And I promise that could not have been 4 years ago. Really, it couldn't be. Could it? He was just in junior high, and now he's headed off to college? It doesn't seem right.

This is why I do not have children--CHILDREN MAKE YOU AGE MORE QUICKLY. I swear it's true.

Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go drink some Geritol and take a nap...

January 19-23

2009-01-23T14:01:00.000-08:00

I am still processing this past week.

Usually, a week comes and goes without much thought. There's a routine that happens: work, home, friends, tv, sleep, eat, etc. Nothing too complicated. But last week was different.

Politically, it was an incredible week. Obama was officially sworn in as our president, and he hit the ground running, proving in his first few days of office that he meant business. Then, Nashville demonstrated our welcoming and progressive spirit by voting against the English-only proposition and letting Mr. Crafton know that if he wants his way, he'll just have to move to a small town somewhere in Mississippi to get it.

But outside of the political realm, last week felt anything but victorious. Things happened that shook my soul, and I feel like my perspective has been permanently altered. I still don't know that I have the words to explain exactly what shift has occurred, I just feel it. There is sadness--lots of sadness--concern, confusion, fear, disappointment, hurt, and helplessness.

Helplessness is the hardest. I know that, in some circumstances, all you can do is just "be there" for people. But just being there is hard for me. I want to do. I want to fix. I want to heal. I want to make better. But sometimes better is not mine to make. So I just have to be.

And so I'm here. And I hope. And I think. And I pray. I pray, pray, pray. For the best.

Or, at least, for better.

1.20.09

2009-01-20T10:49:00.000-08:00

Contents of the day so far: a few tears, lots of goosebumps, applause, and a swell of hope and pride for my country.

Text of Obama's inaugural address.

Those words are better than any words I could share today.

report card

2009-01-01T10:46:00.001-08:00

Since it is January 1st once again, I thought it would be a good time to check in on those New Year's resolutions from last year and see how well I did. Most of the time, by December 31st, I can't even remember what my new year's resolutions were (half of them are forgotten by June), but fortunately, a blog is a good record-keeping device, so I went back to January 2008 and found my original list.

My New Year's resolutions for 2008 were:
a) To live a lower-carb lifestyle
b) To read more
c) To do better on saving money (and specifically, to pay off my school loans--finally!)
e) To get back involved with a church (I was quite a slacker on church attendance in 2007)
f) To exercise at least 3-4 times a week
g) To do one new service project every month

Now, for the grading:
a) Lower carb lifestyle--This lasted until, oh, February, when I started training for the half-marathon and realized that carbs were my friends, not my enemies. 2008 was filled with much bread, pasta, potatoes, and so many other foods that make life delicious--so I'll have to give myself an F on this one. But, oh, what a sweet F it is. I think I'll take that F, dip it in chocolate and eat it. For breakfast.
b) Read more--Does Domino magazine count? I don't know that I actually read more in 2008...I probably read about the same amount as I did in 2007. But I did buy a whole lot of books on Amazon that are sitting there just waiting to be read, so this one can carry over to 2009. I'll be kind and give myself a D.
c) Saving money--I actually did add to my savings this year, although that is quickly dwindling with the whole selling-and-buying-a-new-house project. However, I did pay off all of my school loans, which is a HUGE accomplishment (that I have been working on for the past 9 years), so I'm gonna give myself an A on this one. And a big fat WOO-HOO!
e) Churchgoing--I'm a heathen. Why is it so hard to get up and get dressed at a decent hour on Sunday morning? I was a part of a women's bible study for most of the year, and I have done my own devotionals, but I was just about as bad as a C&E Christian as far as churchgoing went. I'll have to give myself a very guilty D- on this one. Thank goodness God doesn't grade like I do.
f) Exercising--Although I didn't always make it 3-4 times a week, I think I did pretty well on this one. Between training for the half-marathon and leading a boot camp, I think I exercised my little fanny off. Well, not completely, but at least it didn't get any bigger, and that's good enough for me. A-.
g) Service projects--I actually stuck with this one pretty well, even during the busy times...until November and December hit. I cooked lunch for the homeless, bowled with the United Cerebral Palsy group, made care packages for people living with AIDS, helped build a house with Habitat, volunteered with the Light the Night Walk, and quite a few other things. As I suspected, this turned out to be my favorite resolution to keep, and I highly recommend it for others. Since I missed November and December, I'll have to take a couple of points off, so we'll go with a B+. And I think this one will be a carry-over for 2009.

All in all, not too shabby, especially when compared to my success at keeping resolutions in the past.So now, I just have to come up with the list for 2009. Any suggestions?

if i twittered

2008-12-21T07:14:00.000-08:00

my current update would be:

sitting in the kitchen in my pajamas; contemplating going to sip to get a latte; listening to the cbs sunday morning program play in the other room; getting psyched up to fight the crowds at opry mills; watching my crazy-ass dog try to jump the 8-foot section of the fence so he can catch a squirrel; wondering why my face is breaking out; thinking about eating another blonde brownie for breakfast.

secret santa

2008-12-18T08:41:00.000-08:00

Every year around this time, we do the Secret Santa thing at work. Everyone on staff draws a name, and then the last week of school is Secret Santa week. You're not supposed to spend more than $10-$15, and you can choose to give little gifts throughout the week with a bigger gift on Friday, or you can save up and give a nice gift at the end of the week.

I like to think that I am a good Secret Santa. I try to give thoughtful gifts that I think the person will enjoy. So far, I've baked cookies for my guy, and I gave him a pocket-sized moleskine-type notebook he can carry with him for when inspiration strikes (he's an English teacher--writer--theater guy). Heck, I even wrote poems to go with my gifts. Not necessarily good poems, mind you, but just a little something fun that he could laugh at. And mock. And use in his class as examples of how not to write poetry.

So, of course, I was excited to see what I would get this week from my Secret Santa.

On Tuesday, I get to work, and I find this in my chair:

Yep, it's a snake. A snake you put it water and it grows to 600% its size. Oh, but you have to leave it in water for 96 hours for it to get that big. Right. I can see it now..."Um, I'm sorry, honey, you can't take a bath for FOUR DAYS, because I'm trying to grow a snake in there." My favorite part, though, is the warning on the front in large letters: DO NOT SWALLOW! Come on...when you get a 12-inch long snake, isn't that the first instinct you have, to try to swallow it? I'm not even going to touch the double entendres there, either--you can do that yourself.

Then Wednesday arrives, and when I check my box in the teacher's lounge, I find:

A tarantula and a blood-shot eyeball! And they're gummy! And when you throw them against a wall, they stick and leave a trail of slime! Yippee!

Ok, so I'm beginning to think that:

a) My Secret Santa doesn't like me very much
b) My Secret Santa is a science teacher with an odd sense of humor
c) My Secret Santa thinks that I am actually a 12-year-old boy
or
d) My Secret Santa doesn't like me very much

Sigh. I'm almost afraid to see what my big gift on Friday is going to be...

ick

2008-12-14T14:54:00.000-08:00

It usually happens twice a year. Once in March, and then again around November.

As the earth spins on its axis, and the seasons turn from cold to warm or warm to cold, my body responds by producing an abnormal amount of mucus. My eyes burn and water, my face swells, and my sinuses alternate between being completely clogged up and flowing like a river. Think Niagara Falls, except really gross. (Come on, with a title like "ick," you should have known this wasn't going to be pretty). The worst parts, though, are the raw, sore throat and the upset stomach that result from the drainage. Fun stuff.

Sometimes, the sinus infection only lasts a few days, but then other times it perseveres for weeks, and the pharmacists at Walgreens begin to eye me accusingly, suspecting that my excessive purchases of suphedrin could signal that they've got a meth addict on their hands. Every now and then, though, something glorious happens--the leaves change, the weather turns cold, and...nothing. Nary a drip. It's like my sinuses weren't paying attention and totally missed their cue to wreak havoc on my body.

So when it hit me that Christmas was quickly approaching, and I hadn't even used a single dose of Claritin, I thought that it might be one of those wonderfully lucky times when the terrible, horrible, no good Sinus Monster was going to lie dormant, at least until spring.

And then, I ran a 5k in 27-degree weather.

If anyone needs me, I'll be at Walgreens. Ick.

second installment

2008-12-09T11:24:00.001-08:00

or, "Holiday seasonal things I could do without."

1. Stations that play all Christmas music, all the time. I like "Walking in a Winter Wonderland" as much as the next guy, but I could do without hearing it 1,372 times in one day.

2. Holiday sale commercials that play over and over and over... You know what I'm talking about--it's that Sears/JC Penney/etc. ad that comes on EVERY SINGLE TIME the show you are watching goes to commercial...sometimes even twice in one break. It's maddening, and it is the one thing that might actually cause me to break down and get TiVo.

3. Chia-everything. Where do these things go the rest of the year? You almost never hear anything about Chia until it's time for the holidays, and then they are all over the place. Chia-donkeys, Chia-alligators, Chia-dinosaurs. Does anyone actually collect these things, or do they just get recycled as Dirty Santa gifts from year to year? Although, did you know that they released a limited-edition Chia-Mr. T head in 2000? I totally want that. Added bonus: Chia also has that completely annoying jingle that gets stuck in your head...you're thinking it now, aren't you? Ch...ch...ch...chia!

4. Malls. I am avoiding them this year. I really hate malls around the holidays...the parking nightmares, the crowds, the rude, stressed-out people, the insanely messy piles of clothes (that you know were nicely folded when the store opened, but end up looking like someone ran and jumped in them like a kid in a big pile of leaves), the idiots who jump line in front of me when I'm just trying to get a soft pretzel...the list could go on and on. It is insanity, and it doesn't surprise me to see news stories this time of year about someone who looses it and beats a fellow shopper over the head with the latest Tickle-Me/Dance-With-Me/Do-Whatever-You-Want-to-Me version of Elmo.

5. Shopping for holiday presents in general. Don't get me wrong--I love the act of giving. I get high off of the feeling of finding that absolutely perfect gift for someone that you know he/she will love. I just don't like the pressure of trying to do that for everyone I know, all at the same time. And yes, I realize that I could start in January and collect things throughout the year as I find them, but I just don't work that way. If I find something absolutely fabulous for someone that I am so excited to give them, I can only hold off for a week, tops, before I break down and just give it to them early. I've ruined a lot of Todd's birthdays/holidays this way, because I. JUST. CAN'T. WAIT. So, he might get his Christmas gift on Dec. 25th, or he might get it on Dec. 17th. It just happens.

Those are just a few things off the top of my head--anyone have something to add to the list?

uncle

2008-12-05T07:28:00.001-08:00

So, just in case you were wondering how my nieces took to their new uncle Todd...

...the phrase "attached at the hip" comes to mind.

I knew he was a hit when, as we were getting ready to sit down for dinner, I asked Kaelyn if the seat next to her was for me. Her response-- "No, TT, that's for Todd. You can sit on the other side of him." The coolness of Uncle Todd surpassed the coolness of Aunt TT. And I would be a little upset about it, if it just wasn't so incredibly cute to watch him with them...

these are a few of my favorite things

2008-12-03T10:09:00.001-08:00

Things that make me happy during the holiday season...

Gingerbread lattes:

Chocolate cherry bread from Provence:

Classic holiday cartoons like Rudolph and Frosty the Snowman--I love that they still show these on tv:

Spending time with Clark and the Griswold clan again:

Seeing Christmas lights on other people's houses (I'm not going to the time and hassle of doing it for my own house, but I enjoy seeing other people's creativity--and sometimes absurdity):

And, best of all, getting a full two weeks of vacation. Have I mentioned I L-O-V-E working in a school?

Next installment: holiday seasonal things I could do without.

'tis the season

2008-11-24T13:25:00.001-08:00

Things that I am thankful for:

* A close, caring family
* A loving husband
* Friends who make me laugh
* Friends who keep me honest
* A job that I enjoy
* A paycheck that sufficiently supports my lifestyle
* Two puppies that entertain me
* Good health

Ok, I hear you...it's a pretty freakin' generic list. Let's see if I can elaborate a tad:

I am thankful that, when I wake up in the morning, I can be excited about a new day. I am thankful that the first thing that greets me in the morning is love in the form of puppy kisses. I am thankful that I can meet friends for an invigorating workout that makes me feel healthy and strong. I am thankful that I don't dread going to work. I am thankful that I get free lunch at school...but that if I want to go out and eat, I can go just about anywhere I want without worrying about what it costs. I am thankful that I get to come home to three funny boys that keep life interesting. I am thankful that I can pay my bills every month. I am thankful that I have a house that feels like a home. I am thankful that I have my own Cheers, where I can always find a friend. I am thankful that my weekends are times of freedom, to be enjoyed as I please. I am thankful that I can travel. I am thankful that I get to spend this holiday with family--and that I know it will be a time of fun and not a time of stress. I am thankful for a mom who calls every week to check on me. I am thankful that I very rarely have bad news to share with her. I am thankful that--even if I do have bad times--I have a huge support system of friends and family to help me through them.

And, in writing this post, I am thankful that my mind is flooded with so many reasons to be thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone, and all the best to you and yours.

4 years

2008-11-19T07:26:00.001-08:00

In four years, you can...

volunteer at a community garden...

learn to hip-hop dance...

become an old pro at the competitive games at the Annual BBBS Picnic...

get up enough courage to try all of the crazy slides at Nashville Shores...

...and so, so much more. In four years, you can watch a small, shy nine-year-old grow into a beautiful, confident teenager. And in four years, you can discover that the nine-year-old, and now the teenager, has taught you a lot about yourself.

Here's to four years, miss Nema, and to all of the years--and adventures--that lie ahead...

since we're on the subject of doctors

2008-11-13T11:27:00.000-08:00

My guess is that most people my age, particularly those who are male or who don't have children, don't visit the doctor very often. If we do, it is usually a specialist--like an optometrist, gynecologist, psychiatrist, etc.-- and not a general practitioner. We don't see much need for a wellness exam, or the yearly physical, because we aren't at a point in life where we need a doctor's note before we can join the soccer team, or where we need a new prescription for the 17 different pills that are helping us live to see age 72. Even when we get sick, we are more likely to self-diagnose and fight it with OTC medicines, or in dire circumstances, seek out a doc-in-the-box minute clinic to get the extra strength drugs.

That's just my guess, because I was basically describing my own personal approach to sickness/wellness/doctors.

However, I'm trying to be more proactive in preserving my health, so I just made a follow-up appointment at Lifesigns. If you have thought about getting a physical, I recommend checking them out. They do the complete physical, including blood/urine analysis, an ultrasound of all of your major organs to check for cysts or abnormalities, a body fat and BMI test, and an EKG. They accept most insurance, so you can get the core battery of tests done for your normal doctor's visit co-pay.

It's not a bad deal--it's quick, easy, and painless--and since their specialty is wellness exams, you don't have to worry about sitting in a cramped lobby with a bunch of sick kids while waiting to see the doctor. Bonus!

it's like a forwarded e-mail string...

2008-11-07T11:04:00.000-08:00

...you need to scroll down and read the previous post for this one to make complete sense.

Exhibit B:
Earlier this week, I had an appointment with my dermatologist. When I arrived, I noticed a sign in the lobby that said “Don’t wait! Please let our front desk know if you have been waiting more than 15 minutes to check in.” I got checked in pretty quickly, so I grabbed a magazine to pass the time while waiting. There were just 4 other people in the waiting room with me, so it seemed to be a light day for appointments. Around 9am, one of the other girls waiting in the lobby approached the front desk.

Girl: Hi, I need to know if I’m going to be able to see the doctor soon.
Receptionist: What time was your appointment?
G: It was over 30 minutes ago. If I can’t see the doctor in the next 5 or 10 minutes, I’ll have to leave, because I have to get to a court date.
R: Well, there’s still 1 person ahead of you, so I just don’t know if that will happen.
G: Then I’m probably going to have to cancel and reschedule.
R: You don’t want the appointment anymore?
G: I have to get to my court date, and I need to be there by 9:30. I didn’t know it would take this long.
R: Well, the doctors usually run at least 30 minutes late.
G: The doctor called and said he needed to see me, and he specifically told me to make a morning appointment to ensure that I wouldn’t have to wait long.
R: Well, there were already four people ahead of you this morning.
G: Ok, but how long does it take to see each patient? I got the earliest available appointment.
R: I don’t know what to tell you. Either you wait or you don’t.
G: Well, at this point, if I can’t see him in 5 minutes, I probably won’t even reschedule.
R: I will check and see what I can do.
G: Ok, I’m going to go out in the hall and make a call to let them know I am running late.

So the girl walks out into the hallway to make her call, and while she is gone, I overhear the receptionist telling a co-worker about the situation.

R: ...and she’s saying that she needs to see him in the next 5 minutes, and I just want to tell her “Well, just leave then.” I mean, it’s no skin off my back…not my problem.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Even though the girl had been very calm and reasonable in the way that she spoke to the receptionist (much more so than I would have been), the receptionist was being incredibly rude and dismissive. Again, I came so close to walking up to the window and saying to her “Excuse me, but that was extremely tacky of you. Do you not realize that all of us sitting in the waiting room can hear you? You are being terribly rude and dismissive to one of your patients. You even have a sign that encourages people to speak up if they have been waiting! Your attitude may end up losing this practice more than one patient today.” But, instead of doing that, I just bit my tongue. I am surprised I don’t have a big, gaping hole in it by this point.

I had to laugh, though, when I finally got back in the exam room, and I noticed these comment cards that were available for giving feedback:

I guess they don’t really care to hear the bad stuff—just comments of praise, please.

So, even though I was just a bystander in this negative experience, I am thinking about finding a new dermatologist. It may be that I am becoming more like my father, because I don’t think the idea that “the doctors always run at least 30 minutes late” is acceptable. If that is happening, then I believe they need to re-evaluate their scheduling practices. My dad refuses to wait more than 15 minutes for an appointment. Once it hits the 15-minute mark, he will walk up to the receptionist and say, “I need you to reschedule my appointment. My time is just as valuable as the doctor’s. I was here on time, and I expect him to be on time as well. If he is consistently late, then I will find another doctor who respects his patients enough to make his appointments on time.” He has a point—most of us have to take time off from our jobs to see a doctor, since doctor’s office hours directly coincide with most business hours. Unfortunately, though, it seems that medicine is one of the few practices where it is apparently acceptable to run late consistently. I mean, if I ran 30 minutes late every time I went to meet a donor, I probably wouldn’t be raising much money at all!

Sigh. See what I mean? I’ve done pretty well so far about keeping my temper and not lashing out in these situations..but one of these days, that tongue is going to slip, and I think it could be sooner rather than later...

sometimes, the heart needs to rant

2008-11-06T11:45:00.000-08:00

Lately, I have been thinking that I either:
a) have unresolved anger in my heart (which often seems to surface in the form of road rage)
b) have very high expectations of other people
c) have become less patient or tolerant as I age
d) have a greater need to speak out against perceived injustices, or
e) the ever-popular "all of the above"

Exhibit A:
One morning last week, I was stuck in terrible traffic on Briley. One lane was blocked due to a stalled car, and then just a mile from that point, the other lane was blocked due to construction. I was actually feeling rather patient, not angry or annoyed (except for questioning why they would be doing this small bit of construction during rush hour). It took an hour to travel about 5 miles, which meant that I, and probably the majority of people around me, was running late for work. Finally, the lanes opened up--at last, freedom to drive at normal speeds! Well, just over the next hill, not even 1/2 mile from where the lanes opened, sat a traffic cop on a motorcycle with a radar gun. Immediately, I was livid. So angry that I came extremely close to pulling over my car, walking up to the cop and saying "You are evil. Everyone coming over this hill has just been stuck in traffic for at least an hour, they are probably late for work, and now you are going to make their day even worse by citing them for speeding if they are trying to make up a little time. Can't you find somewhere better to be?" I didn't do it, because I didn't really feel like getting myself cited for some random infraction of berating a police officer or something, but I boiled about it until lunchtime.

And, yes, I realize that the police officer would have been completely justified in ticketing someone if he/she was speeding, regardless of the circumstances, but still. EVIL.

I’ll post Exhibit B tomorrow, so that this doesn’t turn into the world’s longest blog post…

make no bones about it

2008-11-04T08:11:00.000-08:00

voting

2008-11-04T06:34:00.000-08:00

Today is election day, and I am nervous. Why? Because I think that there are a lot of people out there who vote without thinking. They just vote to vote, or they vote for whomever their parents or friends are voting for, or they vote straight party line regardless of the candidate...or they vote for a myriad of other reasons that have nothing to do with the important issues our country is facing or the qualifications and policies of the candidates.

There is one thing in particular that has bothered me lately, because I have heard it in conversations of friends and acquaintances, and it is the idea that being Christian = voting Republican. And people who think this way will usually point to the hot-button topics of abortion and gay marriage as the primary reasons that Christians should vote Republican.

But I disagree. I believe that there are far more issues to be concerned with, and far more thoughtful ways to approach those issues.

If you are a Christian and think that your faith necessarily dictates your party, I would encourage you to read this article from the Huffington Post. I don't agree with everything that the author says, but I do think that he makes a lot of good points worth considering.

I can't make you ignore the fear-mongering propaganda that a certain party (and many churches) have been perpetuating, but I can ask you to submit a thoughtful and educated vote. Please, vote wisely today.

And now, I will step off my soapbox.

just do it

2008-10-29T10:41:00.000-07:00

I cast my ballot yesterday.

because i had fun with the first one...

2008-10-29T07:40:00.001-07:00

Tucker plots.

something different

2008-10-27T13:21:00.000-07:00

Why? Well, because it's a Monday, and I feel like being silly.

what does 10 inches look like?

2008-10-23T09:01:00.001-07:00

Something like this:

A large portion of my hair is now on its way to becoming a wig, and I have a new short 'do.

I still haven't decided if I love the new look, but it's growing on me (pun not actually intended there). I definitely used faaaaar too much shampoo this morning--it is always the first shampoo after a drastic haircut that makes you realize just how short it is.

On another note, I now have a whole lot of ponytail holders that are no longer useful to me, so if you need them, just let me know.

If you would like more information about donating your hair, check out Locks of Love or Wigs for Kids.

run-run-run-run-run-runaway...or, Fort Tucker

2008-10-16T10:46:00.000-07:00

Well folks, it's official. Tucker has now figured out how to jump the 6+ foot fence that we built just a few months ago--the fence that we built really tall and with the "pretty" side facing in specifically so Tucker couldn't jump it. We knew it was coming, because we've caught him a couple of times just hanging from the top of the fence, his front paws barely holding onto the edge, his nose peeking out over the top, and the look in his eyes making it clear that he was thinking "just a little bit more...almost. there."

So, I think Todd is going to try to construct some type of overhang that will keep Tucker from being able to jump up and grab on to the top of the fence. Geez...our backyard really is going to start looking like a fort. Next thing you know, we'll be rolling out the high-security barbed wire (ok, we would never really do that--so don't go calling the humane association or anything).

Honestly, though, it wouldn't surprise me at all if Tucker eventually figures out how to get past the overhang as well.

Heck, it wouldn't surprise me at all if I look out the window one day to discover that Tucker has dragged Todd's climbing equipment out of the garage, and he is scaling the fence with Levi on belay.

That dog is crazy.

just keep going

2008-10-09T08:49:00.001-07:00

Inhale.

Exhale.

Repeat.

Sometimes, during the really busy times, I have to remind myself of the basics.

But, there's a light at the end of the tunnel, and it's so close, I can feel its heat. Just a few thousand more breaths, and I'll be there.

when faith is beautiful

2008-10-03T10:21:00.000-07:00

I don't talk a lot about my faith. Some of my friends appreciate this about me, and other friends would probably see it as a shortcoming. Because I am surrounded by a lot of people who believe differently than I do, I am very sensitive to and aware of the way that Christians are perceived. And it honestly doesn't surprise me--although it saddens me--that Christians are often derided or even despised, because, let's face it, there are a whole lot of Christians out there who aren't very Christ-like.

I will be one of the first people to admit that sometimes, faith produces ugly things. I have seen it often, where people of faith will push an idea or legislation that is hateful, basing it on a so-called "Christian" agenda. And it makes me cringe. It saddens and angers me. And it discourages me.

But then sometimes, I am reminded in amazing ways that faith can also be, and should be, beautiful. In its purest and truest forms, faith produces beautiful things. I found one of these reminders recently, and I thought I would share it, because it encouraged me.

In one of my blog-to-blog link clicking episodes, I stumbled upon a blog of a girl that I used to volunteer with at CCC. She now works for World Vision, where she helps secure sponsorships for children in Africa. She recently went through one of those introspective periods of contemplating "why do I do what I do?" and she blogged about one of the defining moments that helped her answer that question. I have copied her entry below, slightly edited for length.

"I remember a defining moment, my "This is what I want to dedicate my life to" epiphany. It was roughly 11 years ago. I had just moved to Nashville from Los Angeles to work full time with World Vision. Three days after arriving in Nashville, I climbed on a tour bus with a band called Big Tent Revival. We had 3 shows to do in 4 days, one of them being a 10:00am show for a Junior High Lock-In somewhere outside St. Paul, Minnesota.

I thought to my skeptical self... we aren't going to get one single sponsorship at this event. Now, don't get me wrong. I adore junior highers. I really do. And though I enjoy their energy and verve, I knew producing any results for my "job" was sketchy, at best.

[At the lock-in] I returned to my World Vision table set up, filled with a few dozen picture folders of kids' faces and stories. Already at my table was a young "lock-in" victim... apparently not interested in the festivities happening in the other room. Darla (she'd told me when I asked her name) had a wildly-matted mane of thick copper hair, shiny silver braces, chubby freckled cheeks with dense, coke-bottle glasses that wedged a permanent red crease into the crest of each plump apple. She was shy, quiet, awkward. But she stayed at the table... picking up each folder... reading each child's story... studying each of them closely.

I simply chalked it up to her boredom. Or needing something to do? Possibly she was friendless? Or simply uninterested in the activities? But suddenly, she picked up one of the folders she'd studied earlier and with great determination... handed it to me. "Here", Darla said. "This is the one I want".
"Ummm", I offered. "You know that to sponsor a child takes $30.00 a month."
"Yes", she said matter-of-factly. "Here, I have $30 right here". And she handed me several sticky, wadded up bills.
"But you know, it takes $30 every month to sponsor this child. Are you prepared to do that?" I asked somewhat condescendingly.
"Yes", Darla repeated patiently... as her chubby finger pushed her smudged, thick glasses back up her nose, only to magnify and bulge her pretty green eyes. "You see, I have $352.48 at home. I've been saving for a long time. But I guess my contact lenses will have to wait another year. I wanna help her instead [pointing to picture]. I think God would like that."

I was speechless. Tears flooded my eyes and my bottom lip started dong that quiver thing. I immediately felt shame for my quick judgment and assumptions. But as Darla proceeded to fill out the sponsorship paper work... a light went on inside me. A light that filled my soul to the very brim. This shy awkward girl had every reason to spend her hard-earned savings on herself... to boost her self-esteem... to bring about a more confident Darla. But she understood something I apparently was still figuring out. It's not about her. It's not about me. It's about our Great Father, and what He wants to do in us and through us and around us.

When I joined the BTR guys on the bus later that day... I told them the story. And five grown rockstars wept... and then took $400 out of their weekend's earnings... and sent Darla a gift certificate to LensCrafters.

I learned a valuable lesson that day. But it was also the launch of a deep, deep passion. Not just for getting kids in Africa (or anywhere) sponsored... but a passion to discover Christ in unexpected and unlikely places. In the face and story of a small child in Uganda. In the chubby-cheeked smile of Darla as she happily sacrificed for another. In the tears of a rock band moved to compassion and generosity."

Thanks, Debbie B., for the reminder.

for real?

2008-10-01T13:53:00.001-07:00

In keeping with my new year's resolution to do a different service project every month, I have been utilizing the services of a local organization that specializes in matching up volunteers with non-profits that need volunteer help. They have a very handy calendar of volunteer opportunities on their website, and I have used it to sign up for a multitude of fun projects, discovering many wonderful non-profit programs in the process.

Today as I was browsing the calendar, one project titled "Cooking for the Coaches" caught my eye. I imagined that it might involve cooking brownies or some other treat for coaches of inner-city youth teams, or providing dinner for life coaches at a non-profit organization, or something along those lines. So, I clicked on the link to read the description.

"Description: Volunteers are needed to assist with preparing and serving an evening meal for the Titan coaches every Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday from 1:30-4:30pm.
Impact Areas: Homelessness/Hunger: Meal Service"

Um, I'm sorry. Did it say that I would be cooking dinner for the Titan's coaches? Like, the pro-football team Tennessee Titans? Maybe I'm mistaken, but can't the Titans' coaches afford to buy or make their own dinners...probably even more so than I can???

The dinners are organized through 2nd Harvest Food Bank, which is a non-profit that serves the low-income and homeless community. I know that 2nd Harvest's offices and warehouse are just down the street from the Titans' practice facilities, so maybe they are trying to be good neighbors, but I severely hope that they aren't using the organization's resources to provide dinners three nights a week for pro-football coaches. I'm pretty sure they don't qualify as low-income or homeless.

I mean, dude, if you're a Titans football coach and feel a little hungry, get Vince Young to go buy you a burger.

Crazy.

opry observations

2008-09-29T14:51:00.001-07:00

Observations from an evening backstage at the Opry:

*Keith Urban is a petite man.

*"Petite" doesn't even begin to describe Little Jimmy Dickens, who might just be two feet tall. He could stand on his own shoulders, and I think I would still be taller than he is.

*If I had worn rhinestones, I would have fit in much better. Sparkle was definitely the uniform for the evening.

*I don't think fans realize how crazy they look. There was a girl in the third row, holding up a big poster of Keith Urban towards the stage, and singing along very passionately to every song he performed. I don't quite understand the point of showing someone a poster of himself. I could understand if she was holding up a sign that said "I love you Keith!", but what kind of message was she trying to send by holding up the poster? "Hey, look Keith, I just bought some of your swag!" or "I pulled this off my ceiling and brought it with me tonight just to show you what a big fan I am!" or maybe "I'm totally going to stalk you after the concert to get you to sign this thing for me!" If I had been Keith, I definitely would have pointed her out to my bodyguards and said, "Ummm, keep an eye on that one for me, will ya?"

*I don't do the celebrity ga-ga thing very well. I met Marty Stuart, and I was standing less than 2 feet from Keith Urban and Dierks Bentley, and I met a lot of the other Opry legends. I had my camera in my purse the whole time, and how many pictures did I get? Zero. I feel like the biggest cheeseball in the entire world asking someone like that for his/her picture. Honestly, I'd rather just ask the girl in the third row if I could photograph her poster...

why i love working in a school

2008-09-26T06:14:00.000-07:00

Because kids are very entertaining, particularly when they don't even mean to be.

Now that my office is at the high school, I miss out on a lot of the adorable, funny antics of the little ones, but fortunately I have co-workers that are willing to share some of the gems.

For example, a second grade class was asked to write thank you letters to a couple of musicians that had performed a concert for them. They took great care to decorate their construction paper cards, and one little boy decided to draw a guitar on the front of his card.

To see his drawing of the guitar, click here.

I think it's a perfectly lovely picture of a, ummm...guitar, don't you?

gas-x

2008-09-23T10:23:00.000-07:00

Aaaarrrrrggh.

I realize that I am a little late for Talk Like a Pirate Day, but aaarrrgh. I'm frustrated.

Why? Because I am tired of talking about gas, thinking about gas, hearing about gas, watching stories about gas on tv, driving by insane lines at the gas station and watching people freak out over gas, and worrying about how much gas I have left in the car, because once it's gone, I have to join those insane lines of gas-crazy people.

It. is. ridiculous.

People, chill. Stop acting crazy and hoarding gas like there's no tomorrow. If you have a half tank of gas or more, you should not be sitting in those lines. If you are taking time to fill up multiple gas cans at the pump, I hope that you intend to go out and help stranded motorists with your stockpile and that you aren't just hoarding it for the gas apocalypse that you seem to think is happening.

If you're so worried, stop contributing to the problem and think about ways not to use gas. Ride your bike. Take a bus (yes, I realize that public transit in Nashville is terribly sub-par, but it's there). Carpool. Eliminate unnecessary trips. Walk.

Just don't go idling your half-full SUV in the middle of Harding Pike because you're waiting in line to get into the gas station a mile down the street, so you can fill up your car and three extra gas cans "just in case". Because if that's you, you're an idiot, and you totally deserve to have the gas pump run dry while the guy in front of you is using it.

Please.

not unfounded

2008-09-22T14:19:00.000-07:00

Not long ago, I blogged about some habits I have that could be filed under the heading of "Signs that Tiffany is a Slightly Neurotic Scaredy-Cat".

My fears are not totally unfounded, though. Today, I went to the restroom, and hanging out by the wall, not even 12 inches from the toilet, was a very alive, very scary-looking brown recluse spider. I kid you not. And he looked hungry for flesh. Not that I could blame him, because it was about three in the afternoon, and I always feel the need to snack around that time, too. But still. That's waaaay too close to comfort for me.

So yes, I will continue to check under the toilet seat every time I use the restroom at work. And I won't feel the slightest bit silly for doing it.

a matter of tayst

2008-09-18T06:15:00.001-07:00

What I should have said to the snobbish waiter at tayst the other night:"Just so you know, your simultaneously patronizing and dismissive attitude has sufficiently tainted my experience to the point that I will likely--almost certainly--not be returning. I would think that during a time like Restaurant Week, you would attempt to put your best foot forward, as you are wooing many new customers in the hopes that they will become repeat customers, but you have instead accomplished quite the opposite. Our group of friends would normally tip in the 25%+ range for good service, but we are struggling even to justify 15%. So here's your tip--how about you do yourself, the restaurant, and future diners a favor and find a job that doesn't require you to engage in customer service."

What I actually said to the snobbish waiter at tayst:
"Thank you."

Sigh. I'm a wuss.

I would write about our entire experience at tayst, but one of my friends has already penned a much better review than I could even hope to write, so I will defer to her.

The verdict, I believe, for most of our group: tayst left a slightly bitter taste in our mouths.

balance

2008-09-12T05:51:00.001-07:00

Things that make me smile on a Friday morning: Watching two old bearded guys roll by in a convertible Chrysler...with a pink license tag on the front that says "NANA".

Things that make me not smile on a Friday morning: Watching the weather forecast and seeing rain predicted for Monday, meaning that this could be the third year in a row that our golf tournament gets rained out. Sigh.

too many, too soon

2008-09-09T19:53:00.000-07:00

Death has been far too familiar around these parts.

First, my uncle George died unexpectedly of a heart attack. Then, Grandmother Bratton succumbed to old age. Not long after, it was Clifford. And then Uncle Don passed on. And today, I received word that cancer took Uncle Gene. They had given him a year to live, but just one month later, he is gone.

It's too much. And even for those that were expected, it's still too soon.

So, Death...how 'bout you just hang up your hoodie and scythe, and take the rest of the year off, mkay?

You've reaped enough this year.

the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad puppy owners

2008-09-08T07:49:00.000-07:00

I like to be nice. I do.

And I try not to say hateful things about others, or call other people out publicly on my blog, because that's just not my style.

But I'm angry.

I have lived in my home for just over three years, and in that time, I have watched three puppies die under the care (or carelessness) of my neighbors. Three lovely little dogs who never had a chance, because they were adopted by people who think it is perfectly acceptable to leave a dog chained in the yard all day, regardless of the weather, with little or no access to water or shade.

One of their puppies--a sweet, pure-bred yellow labrador--died of Parvo within just a few months of moving into their home. The other two dogs died of mysterious "poisonings". The only dog that has managed to live longer than a couple of years there spends most of his time trying to escape their backyard, where he is a penned up prisoner.

I was hoping, praying even, that after the death of the aptly named Underdog, they might realize that they weren't cut out to be dog owners--that maybe they just needed to focus on keeping their four little children alive. But then, a couple of months ago, they adopted another puppy, Buster. My heart sank when I saw him, because I knew that giving a dog to the Tanners was as good as issuing a death sentence to the dog.

But for Buster's sake, I hoped for the best. And when they asked us to watch Buster over the recent holiday weekend, we agreed--only after Todd confirmed with them that Buster was current on his vaccinations. They said yes. I'm afraid they lied.

Because this morning, we get news from our neighbors that Buster is sick. He is lethargic, he is losing weight quickly--both potential signs of Parvo. A highly contagious, deadly disease. And even though I know that Levi is current on his vaccinations, I worry, because he is still a puppy, and for some reason, black and tan breeds are more susceptible to the virus.

So help me God, if anything happens to Levi because of our idiotic, negligent dog owners next door, I will be beyond livid. I honestly don't know what I will do, but I can promise it won't be pretty.

Some people should not be allowed to own dogs. Period.

These people should be required to walk around with warning labels on their heads.

Danger: Puppy Killers.

toss. turn. repeat.

2008-09-03T06:51:00.000-07:00

Welcome to day 3 of insomnia. I just wrote that sentence, and then stared at the computer screen for about 10 minutes before continuing, because I couldn't think of what to write next--that's how well my mind is working at this point. I have reverted to operating off of artificial energy, in the form of quadruple lattes (and the fact that a quadruple latte is actually listed on the regular menu at Portland Brew makes me think that I'm not the only one with a problem). I'm pretty sure that I could be mistaken as one of the extras in Shaun of the Dead. I'm just proud that I managed to pull together an outfit that matched this morning.

as a bee

2008-08-25T10:32:00.000-07:00

Life is busy right now. Hyper-busy. The kind of busy where you're so busy that you feel guilty sleeping, because it seems like you're wasting time in which you could otherwise be productive. Things should slow down around the end of October, and I'm very much looking forward to that.

In the meantime, I probably won't be blogging too much, unless it's one of those nights where it is 3am and I can't sleep, or the stress builds up to a point where a public catharsis is necessary.

But, I have updated the other blog, and I figure that is probably enough soul baring to cover the next month and a half, anyway.

And now, back to work...