i like big hearts and i cannot lie...

There is a quotation from W.H. Auden that one of my old high school teachers included in her yearbook entry, which randomly etched itself into my brain, and it comes to mind every now and then:

"Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make me laugh."

Last night, I had dinner with a couple of friends. One works for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, and the other just recently began a new job at Hands on Nashville. Both of them are beautiful women with big hearts--people who are passionate about helping other people. They both absolutely love their jobs, because each day carries the joy of knowing that what they do makes life better for someone else.

And as I basked in the love and the laughter that we shared over dinner, it hit me. My common denominator is big hearts. The people whom I love the most are those who love others well. If I see someone who spills out his/her life in service to others, I am smitten. People who almost give too much-- too much of their time, their money, and their resources to help others-- to me, they positively glow.

So, if you've ever been accused of caring too much, giving too much, or volunteering too much, then please, come sit by me. Chances are, I'm gonna love you and your big heart.

mission accomplished

My goal? To run the half marathon in less than 2:30.

My final time? 2:15.

Now it's time for a long, hot bath and a glass of wine...

gettin' ready

Ok, so you remember how, when you were about 8 years old, you would get really excited and nervous about the first day of school, so you would have your outfit picked out and ready to go days in advance?



Yep. There is a part of me that is still very much an 8 year-old.

So, Country Music 1/2 Marathon, all I have to say is...ready or not, here I come!

miss moneypenny

I sent an e-mail to a development colleague at a local school, and when she responded, I noticed something interesting at the bottom of her e-mail. Under her name, she had listed her title as "Donor Curator." Huh, I thought to myself, could this be a new development term/title that I am not yet familiar with?

So, I did what any curious person with internet access would do...I googled it. And I got nothing--except, of course, for those articles where the words "donor" and "curator" just happened to appear in close proximity to each other. Apparently, this was a title that she created for herself. Donor Curator. I had to chuckle, because it amuses me when people attempt to gussy up their job titles to make them sound more elegant and interesting.

I began to wonder how I could change my own title to make it sound a little more intriguing...but then I thought of a more interesting question: What if I tried to make my title sound worse ? I have sometimes heard development officers referred to as "professional beggars", so I tried to think of variations along those lines. Here are some that I came up with:

* Beggar with a Cause
* Pickpocket with a Purpose
* Cash Cultivator
* Fund Finder
* Schmooze Queen
* Dialer for Dollars
* Solicitor with Skillz

The possibilities are endless--let me know if you have any suggestions. I should be ordering my new business cards soon...

stories

If you know me, you know that I love a good story. And if you have been to my house, you know that I love StoryPeople. I own 8 of the prints, and will likely someday buy one (or more) of the sculptures.

As a member of the mailing list, I receive the "Story of the Day" email, and it's like getting a smile in my inbox every day. I particularly liked one recent offering, called "Lost in Translation":

"There are some days when no matter what I say it feels like I'm far away in another country & whoever is doing the translating has had far too much to drink."

To check out more stories, you can visit the StoryPeople website--but watch out, browsing the stories is quite addictive, so don't say I didn't warn you.

does this mean I am nervous?

Last night, I dreamed that I was running a 1/2 marathon.

Inside a zoo.

It wasn't specifically the Nashville Zoo, just a generic zoo that also seemed slightly like an amusement park. And kind of dark and creepy as well.

In my dream, the race begins, and I am almost immediately separated from my running partners. So I just keep running, and before I know it, I am quite obviously off-course. (Apparently, it wasn't a very popular 1/2 marathon, because there weren't obvious throngs of runners that I could just follow). So I am running around alone, trying to locate a park worker with a map in order to figure out where I am supposed to be (again, not a very well-staffed race here in my dream). I finally get a map, which turns out to be utterly confusing--as many zoo maps are, or maybe, just as most maps are to me--so I keep running without any real direction.

By the time I get back on course, I have already run 15+ miles, and I am exhausted and have to stop and walk, even though the finish line is now in view. So I am angry at myself, because if I had stayed on course, I easily could have run the entire race (and then some), and I am also mad because I have no idea what my real time is, since I took such an insane detour.

Sigh. A week and a half out from the race, and I'm already having crazy dreams. I think my subconscious is nervous...

losing it

Some people lose umbrellas.

Others have a hard time keeping track of their keys.

As for me, I just can't seem to hold onto a pair of sunglasses. And I don't generally lose them in normal ways, like accidentally leaving them behind at a restaurant/bar (although I have done that, too)--I tend to lose them in very odd and random ways.

For example, I lost one pair on a golf course as I was frantically driving the golf cart to cover because tornado sirens were blaring, and a huge gust of wind blew the sunglasses off of my head and into a water hazard. Another pair I lost while visiting Marineland in Florida--because a dolphin ate them. No lie.

Most recently, I was volunteering with a Habitat for Humanity build last weekend, and as I was leaning over to dip my paint roller in the large 5-gallon paint bucket, my sunglasses took a swan dive off of my body and directly into the paint. Now, while I'm sure that the new layer of thick, white latex paint completely covering the glasses probably enhanced their level of UV protection, I decided that I should probably just let them go.

After all, I only paid $5 for them. I learned my lesson pretty quickly, and with my luck, I know it's best to stick with the cheapie sunglasses at Target.

So if you ever think my shades aren't very stylish, just wait a week or so, and I'll probably be sporting a different pair.

it isn't always pretty in here...

I don't do this often.

I hate admitting weaknesses and struggles, and I really hate to show my inner ugly.

But, it's there.

I try to foster positive thoughts and emotions, but every now and then, the inner ugly rears its head.

Lately, I have been struggling with feelings of anger and disgust toward two people in particular. I have attempted to couch it in prettier rhetoric, calling it "righteous indignation", but when it comes down to it, it is truly just disgust and anger. There's nothing very pretty about it at all.

And I know, I know, that I have no right to judge...and I know that I should forgive them, and I should choose to love them anyway...but then I lie in bed at night and think about the situation, and the anger seethes inside of me and the disgust grows. And I hate it. I hate that I feel those emotions, and I hate that I have not yet been able to let it go.

And I am very afraid that if I should encounter these people under the right circumstances, the anger and disgust will rise up and form into words that I shouldn't say...words that I don't really have a right to say...words that will only cause hurt and more anger.

Sigh. I truly want to let it go, and I want to have a peace about all of this...

but sometimes, it just isn't that pretty in here.

9 miles and change

We came, we ran, we conquered.

Thank you, lungs, for your support.

Now, we just have to add 4 more miles, and we'll have ourselves a 1/2 marathon...

sleep noises

Every now and then, out of the midst of a deep sleep...

...Todd will let out a little whimper--a very sweet, vulnerable sort of sound,


...one of Levi's exhales will turn into a long, low moan,


...Tucker will give a soft "woof" (accompanied by a bit of leg twitching) that lets me know he's dreaming.

They are just tiny little noises that occasionally escape during sleep, and I sometimes happen to catch them when I am lying there awake.

And I love them.

unreal

First step of overcoming an addiction? Admitting that you are addicted.

(Deep breath)

I am addicted to "reality" shows.

I don't really mean to be, but I can't help myself. Give me a few minutes of watching the terrible, slightly-yet-badly-scripted drama unfold among a completely incompatible group of actor wannabes grasping for those 15 minutes of fame, and I am hooked.

I'm doing a little better, though, as I have drastically limited the number of these shows that I watch. In fact, I only have one guilty pleasure now--which is probably one of the guiltiest of them all--Big Brother 9. Please don't judge me. Hey, I'm obviously not the only one who has this problem, if they have managed to air nine seasons already. (yes, this is me trying to justify my bad habit with the argument "but everyone is doing it". Apparently, I still utilize the same arguing skills that I used when I was eight.)

However, tonight is the new season of Hell's Kitchen, and I will unashamedly be adding it to my roster of regularly watched shows. Drama + food + Gordon Ramsay = good times.

Not all addiction is bad, right?