The Mind of ~Ifer

Guess What?!?

2009-12-08T08:45:00.002-06:00

Yep, I finally did it.

I got my own website, got the blog imported in over there, and I am fine tuning some of the details. So please visit me at The Mind of ~Ifer. Please, please, if you are following me here, or you have me on a blogroll, please update the link. I don't want to lose readers in the transfer.

Off to play with my new website!

Vern

2009-12-07T08:26:00.006-06:00

As the light breaks the night into pieces, he begins his day. Talking himself through the motions, he lays out his best suit.

"Look Mama, I am wearing my suit today."

She would be proud of him this morning. He remembers her smile as he slowly buttons up his starched white shirt. Remembers her gentle hands folding down his collar, making sure it was just so.

"Should I wear my black tie or my brown one today, Mama?"

He settles his mind on the black tie, and carefully ties the knot. Mama is there again, straightening his tie, demanding perfection. He reaches for his pants.

"A sharp crease, just the way you like it, Mama."

A matching waistcoat and suit jacket are next. He can feel her there with him still, slowly closing each button on his jacket. Imaginary hands brush the lint off his shoulder.

"I can see my own reflection in my shined shoes. Are you proud of me, Mama?"

His dressing complete, he prepares to set out on his journey. He will wander the streets of this town as he has every day for as long as anyone can remember.

"I am all ready to go now, Mama. Did I forget anything?"

For the briefest of moments, his mind wanders back to that hospital room. Mama is there. She smiles at him one last time as she gives him his charge, "Take care of the ones you love, my son".

"I love this town, Mama. I will watch over them.".

This story is about Vern, a man that wanders the streets of our town. Nobody knows much about him, but on some days, he dresses in his Sunday finest and walks. This story is part of the Write of Passage challenge. Please check it out.

Blog Award!

2009-12-06T19:40:00.002-06:00

While I don't usually do the blog award thing, I just couldn't resist when I received such a wonderful award from my blog-friend, Chelle. So without further ado, the Valued Blogger award. The rules are pretty simple:

Tell your readers how your journey into blogging began. Be as verbose or shy as you like.
Pick 3-5 fellow bloggers whom you adore and write what exactly it is you value about that person or their blog. The more you write about them the better. This is a chance to really appreciate your blog friends who have been there with and for you through thick and thin.
Let the blessed winners know they have been awarded.

How did my journey into blogging begin? Well, I have always been a writer, a poet, a lover of the written word, so I have had a journal or diary of some sort as far back as I can remember. What got me started on this current blogging adventure was reading the Pioneer Woman's blog. I fell in love with her story, and I thought to myself "I have something I want to say", so I started blogging. It has been more therapy for me than I ever imagined it would be when I started.

Fellow bloggers that I adore?

Julie's Photo Journey. Her talent with a camera is something I love and I long for. I see the stories and the emotions behind the pictures she posts. They are truly works of art, and I love them.
Return to Innocence. I was orginally drawn to this blog because of the name, and the fact that it reminded me of a song I used to really love, many years ago. Since then, I have been really moved by the author's attempt to honestly deal with herself and her emotions. I love the fact that I feel, many times, that the author is talking herself through spots, and we have the privilege of peaking in the window.

I know the rules say 3-5 blogs, but honestly, I flitter about between a lot of blogs, but feel deeply moved by only a few, so there you have it.

And many thanks to Chelle for this award!

Global Warming 101

2009-12-05T12:20:00.003-06:00

I was given a wonderful blog award that I will tell you about tomorrow, but for today...

I mentioned the other day that last year it snowed here in Southeast Texas for the first time in thirty years. Well, yesterday, for the second year in a row, Southeast Texas said loud and clear

"Take THAT Global Warming fanatics!"

Book Fair!

2009-12-04T08:59:00.002-06:00

Across the street from our church office sits the day school. The only reason I need you to know that the school was there is that the periodic contact that I have with the preschoolers remind me of my childhood.

This week they had a book fair. An honest to goodness, Berenstein-Bear-laden, Shel-Silverstein- loving, Scholastic Book Fair. Earlier this week I had to drop off some papers in the hall where they are having the Fair, and I was instantly transported back 20 years (ok, so maybe it was closer to 25!).

For an instant, I am eight years old, standing in the library of my elementary school. Take a deep breath, inhale that smell of new books intertwined with the unique smell of the library. Look around at the glossy covers of all the new books, begging my little hands to softly caress them, to pick them up. Hear that crack of the spine when a new book is opened for the first time. Know that in my hands holds the ticket to another world.

Books were of utmost importance to my parents. Book fairs were a time when I could always be certain that we would find the money to buy a book. And no, not the fun sticker books that all my classmates were drooling over. My eyes would light up when the teachers passed out the pamphlets a couple weeks before the fair. I would treasure that paper, I would pore over the selections time and time again, knowing that I could make just one choice. I could get just one book, but oh! which to pick?

I realize as I type these words that the wonder has never gone away. I can walk into a Books a Million or Barnes and Noble today and feel the same wonder. The same overwhelming awe at the aisles and shelves of books. So many books to read, so many adventures that wait for me, how can I choose just one?

As I stood there this week, transported in time for the briefest of seconds, I wanted to thank my parents for this love of the written word. I want them to know that I do believe that words can change lives, that words can take you to other worlds, other times, other lives. That words can mold the way I think, the way I view the world.

And I wondered... was I the only child that was punch-drunk with love for the book fair?

Recap

2009-12-03T10:55:00.002-06:00

I know it has been a full week since Thanksgiving, and I have neglected to share stories, but every time I sit down to write a blog entry, I forget that I meant to tell you all about it.

A week late, the story of our Thanksgiving...

Most Thanksgiving, Mike's extended family plans a get-together, and this year it was at his Aunt Cindy's house. Now, growing up in a military family, I can tell you that in my childhood we never had extended family holidays. Holidays for us were a more intimate time of my mom, dad, and us kids gathered around our table. I don't regret that for a minute, and I look back on those childhood holidays with a fond and warm heart. Those are treasured times that are not diminished in the least by the negative events that have taken place since then.

But I never had a big family gathering at Thanksgiving, until I met Mike. The first couple years, I have to admit, were pretty awkward for me. I wasn't sure how to fit in exactly, and I so desperately wanted everyone to like me and to accept me. I had a good time each year, and I was silly to worry so much, but such is my nature.

Slowly over the years, I have had the chance to get to know his family, and to feel at home with them, so I was really looking forward to this Thanksgiving gathering, and they did not disappoint.

It was everything you read about a family Thanksgiving being. Two generations of kinfolk gathered around a long table (actually three tables put together), covered with more food than we could possibly eat (although we certainly tried). What I love most about it is the conversations that go on during dinner. The joking, the reminiscing, the funny stories they told, it was all part of a magical memory that I now have.

It is another memory I will hold close in fondness and warmth. And someday, this is the kind of family environment that I hope to pass on to our children. Families are never perfect. There are always those issues that rub people the wrong way, the personalities that are never going to perfectly match, the hurts and the words that only families can understand.

But this Thanksgiving, I counted myself blessed to be a part of a family that understands what being a family really means. That no matter what happens, no matter the family squabbles that may occur, that underneath it all, is family. That foundation remains strong and firm. That foundation is forever.

And as we sat there on Thanksgiving, I looked around at the people that I used to think of as Mike's family, and I realized that they are MY family now too. And that in the future, should Mike and I be blessed with a child, they will have this family too. They will be surrounded with memories and relatives. Most of all, they will be (as we are now) surrounded with love.

It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas!

2009-12-02T10:04:00.002-06:00

Yesterday, December 1, it was almost like the weather was following a script designed to make it feel more like Christmas around here. We woke up to a chilly morning, and throughout the day, the temperatures dropped. Folks, it's COLD out there now (well, cold is a relative term and in this case refers to the temperature dropping below 50 in Southeast Texas).

The weather people are prediciting possible snow on Friday. SNOW! In Southeast Texas! It snowed here last year too, for the first time in 30 years. I remember Mike got up in the middle of the night to get a drink or something, and he woke up me saying "baby... it's SNOWing!" The wonder and excitement in his voice was a beautiful thing, and like children on Christmas morning, we got up and got dressed and went out to take pictures in the snow at 3am. The next morning we woke up to find a beautiful white town, and until about noon that day we got to enjoy the postcard effect on our town.

I hope it snows again this year. Even if it doesn't, the cold weather outside is getting me in the mood for Christmas. It's cold outside, warm in my office, I have instrumental Christmas music playing on the pandora, and the office tree is set up and cozy warm, decorated in shades of red and gold.

Is it really only December 2? I love this season for so many reasons. I love the warmth that I feel each year. I am ready to welcome Christmas.

In the eternal words of the Whoville song...

Welcome Christmas
While we stand
Heart to heart
And hand in hand
Welcome welcome
Christmas
Christmas Day

Have you lost your mind, child?

2009-12-01T08:25:00.002-06:00

I mentioned last month that I signed up for the NaBloPoMo, where you write a blog entry every day for an entire month. Since I signed up in the middle of November, I didn't get the chance to really get into it last month, so I decided to wait until today, the first day of December, to get started. So this is my official first post for the month :)

I woke up this morning thinking about writing in my blog, and it occurred to me just what I am getting myself into. Not only am I going to try to write every day for a month, but I picked the month of December. I seriously think I have lost my mind in attempting this. December is not only busy for me because of the usual holiday stuff that people have, the shopping, the parties, the town Christmas parade, but as a church secretary, it is even more so. I think I have mentioned before, but this month is our Superbowl. There is constantly something going on at the church during December, even if it isn't something I am directly involved in. There are Sunday School class parties, and get togethers, and programs, and events, all of which I am in some way a part of.

So, can I do it? Can I write a blog entry every day for this month? Honestly, I don't know, but I am sure going to give it a try. In some ways, I think it will be easier in December, because at least then I will have stuff to talk about each day, right?

Since this entry is already random and has no theme, I figure I might as well continue with my spew of thoughts this morning. I had such a good time yesterday reading all the blog entries for Mrs. Flinger's writing challenge. In retrospect, I wish I had a more interesting story to tell yesterday (not saying I wanted to be embarrassed, but I do like to appear interesting when people ask us to share a story). I am looking forward to each week and seeing if I can improve my writing. I am looking forward to going back to the entries I most liked yesterday, and adding some people to my blog roll.

I like events like that because, #1, they give me a topic to write about at least once a week, and that certainly gets my mind to working, and #2, they give me a sense of community, a chance to belong. I think that is what I envy the most about the bloggers that have a large following, that feeling that people care about the words you are writing, the feelings you are sharing. Don't get me wrong, there ARE people in my personal life that read my blog and care very much about what I write, and I don't take that for granted. But I think deep down inside each of us is the desire to feel popular, to be accepted. I think we blog because we want our story to be heard.

I don't really know where I am going with this post anymore, so I guess I will go now. Goodness knows, there is plenty to be done around the office.

So far, so good

2009-11-30T09:36:00.003-06:00

I have been following Mrs. Flinger's blog for quite a while now, because I love the style in which she writes, and the stories are fascinating to me. This morning, when I was catching up on posts from the weekend, I ran across a recent post of hers that intrigues me. She is starting a writing group that once a week, will be given an idea to write a blog post about. The first one was for today, so let's see if I can give this a whirl.

Today's topic was to post about your most embarrasing moment. This is actually quite a difficult topic for me, because I have spent my entire life in a carefully orchestrated attempt to not stand out in a crowd. I don't embarrass easily, or rather, I DO embarrass quite easily, but I do everything in my power to avoid those situations to begin with. I attempt to fade into the woodwork when possible, I overplan events to make sure every tiny detail is in place, I try not to talk about a topic unless I know that my information is correct, etc.

Sure, I have embarrassing moments, like the rest of the world. I have tripped up stairs in high school, I have spilled food or drink on clothes at an important time. There was the time that I fell asleep in the chair in my boss' office while I waited for him to get off the phone. Life is full of small moments that make me blush, but I have been sitting here for almost an hour trying to come up with a "most" embarrassing moment, and the truth is, I just don't have one. So far, I have been successful in my ongoing crusade to avoid that kind of notice, I guess.

I just hope I can keep up the trend.

This post is part of the Write of Passage challenge. Please stop by and join the fun!

My Naomi

2009-11-24T10:53:00.002-06:00

So who is your Naomi?

Mike and I are currently studying the book of Ruth in our nightly Bible study. For those of you not familiar with the beginning of the story, it goes something like this.

Naomi moved to a foreign country with her husband and two sons. The two sons marry foreign wives. The husband and both sons die. Naomi prepares to go back to her home country, and she tells her daughter-in-laws that since they are young and in good health, they should return to their families and find themselves other husbands. One daughter-in-law goes back to her family. The other one, Ruth, refuses to leave Naomi, and insists on traveling with Naomi back to Israel. Her words to Naomi are commonly used in wedding ceremonies all the time now, the famous quote about "whereever you go, I will go, your people will be my people, and your God my God".

At the end of the study on the first night, it asked us the question "who is someone you can call your Naomi".

Who in your life can you make that kind of committment to?

Well obviously, my husband, first and foremost.

I have written volumes and volumes about how much I love my husband, and our marriage, but this post is actually about someone else.

This post is about my mother-in-law, Dee, my Naomi.

She is amazing in so many ways that I cannot even begin to explain to you.

My Naomi listens to what I say. Not just polite conversation, nodding her head to pretend that she is listening. She LISTENS. The first year that Mike and I were together, long before we were married, Thanksgiving was approaching and I was telling her about a funny story from my childhood. My mother made "Thanksgiving out of a box", as the kids called it. She made instant mashed potatoes, a turkey that had a pop up timer to tell you when it was done, cranberry sauce still shaped like a can, pumpkin pie that has "libby's, libby's, libby's, on the label, label, label", and Stove Top dressing. I was telling Dee about this, and about how the first year I was in college, I went to Thanksgiving with a friend, because I could not afford to fly home. My friend's mother made homemade stuffing, and I felt let down because I missed the Stove Top dressing from my childhood. It was a story that was meant to be funny, a brief poking fun at myself for being so tied to a box mix that I didn't appreciate the work that went into the homemade stuffing.

We all laughed and went about our business. Thanksgiving day arrived, and we went to the big family dinner. They bring out all the food, Dee brings out the big pan of homemade stuffing that she makes every year. And then (and I still get teared up at this memory), she brings out a little saucepan of Stove Top dressing that she made for me. She made that just for me. She heard what I said in my story, she remembered somehow that it mattered to me, and she went out of her way to make a dish that only I wanted. That is how much she cared.

My Naomi thinks about us. She is constantly coming home from Wal-Mart with some piece of clothing that was on sale and in my size that she picks up for me. She cuts out recipes that she thinks I might want to try. She calls our house to let us know when a tv show is on that she thinks Mike or I might want to watch.

My Naomi takes care of us. If one of us is sick, she brings food over to the house. We live in an apartment next door to their house, and share a laundry room with them. If she happens into the laundry room when we have clothes that need to be moved through the process, she takes care of them for us. I can't count the number of times I have gone to go put clothes in the dryer and instead found a folded stack of clean clothes waiting to be taken home.

Like I said, I could go on for hours about all the wonderful ways that Dee has taken me in and made me one of her own. It was actually strange for me to type her name out during this post, and I only did it for clarification, because from the time I arrived here to be with Mike, she has made me a daughter. She is Mom to me. She took me under her wing, loved me, and been everything that a mother is supposed to be to me and Mike.

She is my Naomi.

But Ruth said,‘Do not press me to leave you or to turn back from following you! Where you go, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die, I will die— there will I be buried. May the Lord do thus and so to me, and more as well,if even death parts me from you!’ Ruth 1:16-17

Fed Up

2009-11-23T11:12:00.003-06:00

You know what I am sick of? Liars. And the world is full of them.

I am so tired of being told what people think I want to hear in a grand effort to either be politically correct, or to avoid what they perceive as an upset person.

Case in point, the Doctor's Eye Clinic here in our town. We are waiting on the results of some tests that were taken last week. At the time of the testing, we were told by two different people that the doctor would review the results and would get them out in the mail by the end of the week. As today is Monday and we still have no results, we call them to find out what the deal is. Mike's first call is answered by woman #1 who tells him that "oh no, it can take the doctor two or three weeks to get those results back".

After Mike tells me about this, I decide that is an unacceptable response, and for probably one of the first times in my life, I call a doctor's office to file a formal complaint. The lady that I filed the complaint with (and believe me, we know her name) tells me that she saw the doctor working on the results Friday, and that he will be in the office tomorrow and she will make sure that he gets them out in the mail tomorrow if they aren't already.

So who is lying?

You know what? It doesn't matter. I am sick of it all.

And it isn't just this clinic that does it. People in our world lie all the time now. You call the phone company for repairs on your DSL line (another incident from this weekend) and for the six times I called, I got the same story only twice.

Twice.

I called six times, and was told 5 different stories about when it would be fixed and we would be back online.

Why? I just don't understand it. I try to be honest with people. I try to deal in the truth, even if I KNOW it isn't what that person wants to hear.

I just don't understand the need that people feel to lie. Are they trying not to upset me by telling me what they think I want to hear? Are they making crap up so that they don't have to check their facts? Do they really not know, and are just too lazy to find out? Or are they just pathologically lying to me for no reason at all?

I cannot tell you the frustration that I am feeling right now.

Where does it all go?

2009-11-16T13:08:00.003-06:00

The time, that is.

I love this time of year, because I love the holiday season. I live all year for this season, anticipating, planning, deciding on gifts for family and friends, and getting ready in my heart. But here is the secret that nobody tells you about...

The holiday season, when you are working in a church office, is mass chaos! Well, not so much chaos, because I can't function like that, but constantly on the go, constantly moving, planning the next special service, the next Christmas event.

Who is taking care of the live Nativity, and do they have it ready?
Do we have the labels to put on the stuff we are selling at the Christmas bazaar?
Have we ordered the books for advent?
Have we ordered the advent candles?

And the list goes on.

Now, don't get me wrong, I THRIVE on this kind of busyness, so I am not complaining. I just wanted to let you all know that if I am not commenting on your blogs, if my blogging gets a bit more sporadic, it is probably because I am somewhere in the church hanging up decorations or printing bulletins, or one of the myriad of other tasks that this season brings.

I am still here, I promise :)

A Letter to My Father on Veterans Day

2009-11-11T08:08:00.003-06:00

Dad,

I realized this week that for all my eloquent words about our military, for all my noble thoughts about how great and heroic those men and women are, for all that I respect them and honor them for what they have done and are doing for our country, for all the times that I have thanked a veteran, there is one veteran that I have never thanked. I have never told you, Dad. I am here today to change that.

Dad, thank you.

Thank you for teaching me to love our country. Thank you for instilling the knowledge in me that our country, sometimes in spite of its flaws and sometimes because of them, deserves my respect and my gratitude.

Thank you, Dad, for teaching me that freedom is worth the price that people are willing to pay. Thank you for teaching me to respect our military, to salute our flag, to place my hand over my heart during the anthem.

Thank you for living out an example of a man dedicated to the protection of his country, and all its citizens. Thank you for taking our family with you as you traveled around the globe. Thank you for allowing me the chance to live other cultures, and to arrive at the conclusion that America is this great nation.

Dad, thank you for your example of service. For getting up each morning, putting on your uniform, and heading out our doors to protect our country, to protect our family, to protect me.

I thank you for the fact that I get choked up every time I hear Taps being played. I thank you for the fact that I outright cry when I see the missing man formation being flown overhead. I thank you for every moment that I realized how incredibly blessed we are to live in this wonderful land.

I thank you for me knowing all the words to the patriotic songs. I thank you for making the 4th of July so much more to me than a day for fireworks. I thank you for teaching me the history of our country, for pointing out our strengths and our weaknesses.

There is so much you have taught me in life, Dad, but on this Veterans Day, I want to thank you for all you have done for me, for our family, and for our country.

I remember watching the movie "Man Without a Country" with you when I was young. The story was about a man who, during a court marshall in the Civil War years, wished that he had "never heard of America". The judge granted his wish, and placed him on a boat that was never allowed to land, and the people on board were never allowed to speak of America to him. At the end of the movie, he meets a young man who is disillusioned with America, and he speaks these words to him

..."For your country, boy," and the words rattled in his throat, "and for that flag," and he pointed to the ship, "never dream a dream but of serving her as she bids you, though the service carry you through a thousand hells. No matter what happens to you, no matter who flatters you or abuses you, never look at another flag, never let a night pass but you pray God to bless that flag. Remember, boy, that behind all these men..., behind officers and government, and people even, there is the Country Herself, your Country, and that you belong to her as you belong to your own mother. Stand by her, boy, as you would stand by your mother...! Oh, if anybody had said so to me when I was your age!"

After the movie was over you turned to me and told me not to forget those words. To remember that our country is worth everything in life. It is worth living for, fighting for, even dying for.

Dad, don't worry. I won't forget those words. I won't forget them, because I saw them lived out every day of our lives. I saw them in the flesh, in the most important veteran in my life...

My father.

Happy Veterans Day, Daddy

~Jennifer

True Strength

2009-11-10T09:57:00.002-06:00

My heart is very heavy today. Not for anything of mine, personally, but for the struggle that I see in another.

There is a lady here at the church that I work at. She is a wonderful lady, a strong woman of God, an example to the rest of us. She is, in so many ways, what I long to be in life. I have truly come to love this woman.

She has seen so much in her life. She has so much wisdom and truth that she has shared with the people of our church, and especially with the young adults in our church.

And she is struggling now. Her husband is not doing well, health wise.

She puts a brave face on it, she has so much strength in this situation. But I see the sadness, I see the struggle.

Please keep this lovely lady and her husband in your thoughts and prayers right now.

The Day the Wall Fell

2009-11-09T08:24:00.006-06:00

Twenty years ago....

Twenty years ago, I was the awkward, geeky 9th grade girl in this yearbook picture

Twenty years ago, my dad was stationed in Berlin, Germany, and we had been living there for about a year.

Twenty years ago, I was at home watching a movie with my family when the phone rang. It was Brandy, a friend of mine in high school. She was calling to say they were going to tear down the Berlin Wall.

Twenty years ago, I told Brandy she was full of it, and ended the phone conversation. I went back into our living room to tell my parents the crazy story that she had cooked up this time. (Brandy was famous for outlandish tales of how she was going to be in the Olympics, about the time she swam with the killer whales, about how rich her parents were, etc). We turned off the movie so my parents could check the news, and we saw the most amazing night of our lives begin to unfold.

I don't know if everyone was as surprised that night as I was, but as a 9th grader, I had no idea that the events were unfolding in that direction. As a military brat, you are pretty aware of world situations and things that can affect your family, your friends, and your country. I don't know if the whole world was as taken by surprise as I was. Sure, freedom was spreading in Eastern Europe at the time, but the Berlin Wall? That was a forever thing.

See, we had lived in Berlin for a year before this came about. We had learned to abide by the rules and regulations that living in those circumstances requires. West Berlin was called the Island of Freedom, because the city of Berlin sat smack dab in the middle of East Germany. To get to the next piece of "free land", we had to drive a 3 hour road called the Corridor. We had to sign out with the army in Berlin and drive one road until we reached West Germany, where we had to sign in again. You had a set amount of time to make the journey. If you took too long, they sent military troops in to find you. If you arrived too quickly, they would ticket you for speeding. If your car broke down, if you got a flat tire, if for some reason, you could go on no further, our instructions were to stay in our car with the doors locked and wait for the military to come get us.

I had seen first hand the difference between East and West Berlin. As Americans, we could receive special passes to go shopping and site seeing in East Berlin. "East Passes" as they were nicknamed, were a piece of paper with your picture, your vital information. When you drove through Checkpoint Charlie to get into East Berlin, you were to hold that pass up to the window of your car. Under no circumstances were you to give that paper to the Russian guards that were allowing you in. That paper was your proof that you were an American, that you were there with the permission and support of the American Military. I remember driving through the checkpoints and being amazed that two so different worlds could exist in the same city.

East Berlin was gray. That is what I remember most. That, and the fact that people didn't smile on the streets. It was gray. It was somber. The buildings all looked the same, there were no advertisements anywhere. The Berlin Wall itself was gray. There was no graffiti on the East side of the Wall. To even approach the Wall from the East side was forbidden, and was a death warrant, carried out by the guards in the towers that were constantly overlooking.

Walking around in East Berlin was a lesson in world politics. East German and Russian military were all over the place, both in professional capacity and on their leisure time. The East Germans and the Russians were required by their own militarys to salute American soldiers that they saw in East Berlin. My father always wore his uniform when we went to the East, as a sign of who we were. At the same time, our government didn't acknowledge the validity of the Russians being in East Berlin. We didn't recognize the East German government as valid either. So my father's instructions? Ignore the salutes received from these soldiers. A salute is a sign of respect, and we don't respect their right to be here, so American soldiers did not salute in return.

There is so much history of the Wall itself that I won't go into here today, although I encourage everyone to read the stories of how people escaped over, under, and through the Wall over the years.

What I will tell you is that in my world, the Wall was a permanent structure. Did you know that the Wall itself surrounded West Berlin only? Did you know that it was built not to keep East Germans in East Berlin, but to keep them out of West Berlin? Did you know that WE were the ones that lived enclosed in a Wall? It was solid, it was menacing, it was forever.

Except.... it wasn't. In one stroke of a pen, in one night, in one official declaration, the Wall lost all its power.

We watched TV for hours that night. The flood of people didn't stop. The East Germans weren't really sure that the open borders would last, so they were pouring across into West Berlin, just in case. There were families that hadn't seen each other in almost 30 years that were reunited that night. There were children and teenagers that had never seen the flash and color of the Free West that learned that night.

I remember that we cried that night. We cried in joy for the people that were now free. We cried in relief that their struggle was coming to an end. We cried in pride that we had done our job.

We had held on. The Island of Freedom had stood strong for so many years. So many men and women from the US, British, and French military had been stationed over the years, each doing their part to stand strong and hold fast to that patch of land, that symbol of freedom surrounded by oppression. I remember the next day, or maybe the day after that, the West Berlin Newspaper ran a full page ad on the back of the paper. In English, French, and German, all it said was "Thank You".

I write these memories so that I may never forget the wonder that I saw that night. I write so that I may always keep that awkward 9th grade girl in my heart, and she may never let me forget. I write so that we can tell our kids what it was like before. I write so that people can know the struggle, the fight, the victory that took place in that city. I write because 20 years ago, I was privileged to sit in my living room, in Berlin, Germany, and watch history unfold before my very eyes. I write because I lived a piece of history.

I felt it, I saw it, I held it in my hands, 20 years ago.

20 years ago, today.

My Story

2009-11-07T12:25:00.002-06:00

I was reading over my blog list today, and catching up on new posts and entries, and it struck me for a moment how much more interesting all these stories are than the way that I perceive my own life. Do we each view our own story as the most mundane? Is this simply because we lived it, are living it, and we don't see the spectacular in the day to day?

I was thinking to myself as I read these blogs that I don't see what I have to offer that others would like to read about. I don't live on a farm, I don't have kids to post pictures of, I don't have a theme that people can universally relate to. For a moment, I sat there in self pity, wondering why I should blog, and then I remembered two very important facts.

1. I blog for me first and foremost. I blog because I have things to say. I blog because I need to sort my thoughts, I need to tell the story, I need to capture so that I can remember.

2. Nobody else has my story. That is what makes the world of blogs so fascinating to me. I can read about a journey to adoption, yet that is not my story. I can read about life on a ranch, yet that is not my story. I can read about your children, your families, your world, and yet, none of those are my story. But you know what? I can write MY story, and nobody else can.

~I can write about the life of a church secretary
~I can write about the perspective of an Army brat
~I can write about the life I have chosen
~I can write about the thoughts I have

And although each of those factors may be shared by other blogs, nobody has the story that I can share.

And nobody has the story that you share.

Blogging to me takes this huge world of nameless people and faces and gives them names. It fleshes out the people that walk down the street next to you each day. It shows how wonderfully unique each and every one of us are.

So tell me your story, and I will tell you mine.

Fort Hood

2009-11-06T08:21:00.002-06:00

I don't know that I have words to explain what I am feeling about the incident at Fort Hood yesterday, but I have to try.

~Regarding the shooter. I KNOW I don't have words to describe this waste of a human being. It is a matter of taking the already horrific event of turning a gun on innocent people, compounded by the fact that those innocent people are the very ones that will give their lives to defend this country, and exponentially increased by the fact that the shooting was done in a place that these brave defenders are supposed to be able to relax and feel safe. He didn't just kill people. He killed people that had devoted their lives to protecting HIS freedom. He killed people that were in that room either getting ready to go serve their country abroad, or returning from a tour of service. He killed people that had families at home that were relaxed in their worry. The families didn't have to worry, their loved ones were on US soil, in a safe place, the time for worry had not yet arrived. The shooter is among the lowest form of human life. I am a kind person for the most part, but I have to admit that I was really disappointed to hear that he had survived and was still alive. I honestly, truly, deeply, wish that they would have killed him at the scene.

~Regarding the victims. There are not enough words in this world to explain how I feel about the men and women that serve in our military. As a child of a career Army man, I saw firsthand the love that these people have for their country. They don't enlist to get good healthcare, or free college, those are just the perks. They enlist because they believe with their whole being that our country is a place worth fighting for, that our freedom is a thing worth dying for. The ultimate goal is to serve honorably, faithfully, steadfastly, and for them to know that because of their actions, their families back home go to bed each night in safety and freedom. The men and women in that room yesterday were no less of heroes in my eyes. They were men and women who were prepared to give their life for the country, and instead had it stolen away by a mad gunman. They have all my respect, all my honor, all my love. My hand is over my heart for them. I salute the flag for them. I tear up at Taps for them. They are my heroes.

~Regarding the families. There are no words that can comfort. Please know that your country is behind you. Your country grieves with you.

~Regarding Fort Hood. The odd thing is that we used to live there. When I was in middle school, my family lived on Fort Hood for about 18 months. I know the buildings they were talking about. I drove by that main gate. I know that place. It was a place of security. I never had to worry about my dad going to work there because we were in the States. We were on American soil, we were safe. My heart goes out to all the families there now that can no longer live with that sense of security.

I don't have any witty way to wrap this post up. I will just close by saying that my thoughts and prayers are with the families and loved ones of those hurt and killed yesterday at Fort Hood.

Tis the Season

2009-11-05T08:31:00.002-06:00

I saw the first Christmas decoration up in town yesterday, and it made me smile. I love love LOVE Christmas and all that it brings with it. The chance to buy the perfect present for the people you care about, the family, the times of togetherness, the songs, the decorations, the food, the warmth. Everything about the season is warm to me. Even living here in Southeast Texas, where the weather is NOT cold outside, the time of Christmas is still a time of "emotional snuggling under the blanket".

I am also really looking forward to Thanksgiving this year again. Mike's side of the family is having a family get together, and I always love those. I don't know the people there really well, even after the years that we have been together, but it is always a time of family that I love to be a part of. Even the ones that don't know me really well are always so nice to me, or they pick on me and tease me, as the occasion calls for. And the food... oh my, the food.

So what is your favorite part of the upcoming holidays? What makes your heart smile?

NaBloPoMo

2009-11-04T16:12:00.002-06:00

Visit NaBloPoMo

So I joined up for NaBloPoMo, otherwise known as National Blog Posting Month. It is an ongoing challenge to post once (at least) each day for a full calendar month. Now, I missed out on November, but I signed up anyhow, and I plan to try to fulfill this challenge in December.

The difference from IComLeavWe is that this one holds no obligation to posting comments on other blogs. This committment is to myself, a challenge to me to see if I can discipline myself into writing something EVERY day, even on weekends. So I look forward to this challenge.

And yes, it does add the blog to a blogroll so that people can visit and read if they choose to, but there are no obligations, and I like that.

This made me smile

Neglected

2009-11-04T15:13:00.003-06:00

I will freely admit that I have neglected my blog for a while now. There have been reasons, and one reason has merged smoothly into the next, and then the next, and so it goes.

I was sick for a few days, I fought demons of lethargy and apathy for a day, I took time away to be with the man I love.

I have things building up inside my head that need to be said, and I will write about them soon. They are building up like water behind a very shaky dam, and they will be released as soon as I can line them up in a steady stream. I have to hold on to the dam of my thoughts for a bit longer, or you will be lost in the flood of thoughts and observations that will gush out.

All that to say: I am sorry I have been away, I will be back soon, I have things to say.

Thanks for sticking in there, my friends!

Sum Up

2009-10-29T08:22:00.002-05:00

It hasn't been a good week, and I am ready for the weekend.

Actually, I have been ready for the weekend since Sunday morning. This week has been one of those that kicks you in the ass and leaves you lying in the puddle by the side of the road.

And poor Mike has had to be the sounding board for my frustrations this week. He has been the support that has kept me going.

No, not any one thing is wrong, I promise. Just one of those overall rough times, ya know?

Someone wake me up when it's Friday afternoon, please :)

A Little Bit of Blue October on a Tuesday

2009-10-27T08:19:00.002-05:00

I wanted to share this video with you... it is from a few years ago, and it is the way that Blue October used to close their concerts. The honesty and "lay it all out there" attitude is what drew me to them in the first place. This video is composed of two songs, "Amazing", and "Weight of the World". "Weight of the World" is still my absolute all time favorite Blue October song, because of the raw emotion that I can hear... I hope you enjoy this...

Note: There is a little bit of cussing in parts

Peace

2009-10-23T11:34:00.002-05:00

I was reminded today of how much I love Snow Patrol's song "Chasing Cars"... especially the quiet peacefulness of the lyrics..

"If I lay here, if I just lay here...would you lie with me and just forget the world"

Off to forget the world with my sweetheart for a while...

Randominity

2009-10-22T09:34:00.002-05:00

Yes, I know that isn't a real word. But it is the made-up word that I use to describe that feeling of a million thoughts racing around inside my head. That state of not being able to pin a thought down. That frustration of wanting to write an entry for my blog, but having flittering, random thoughts buzzing around like a hive of bees. The state of randominity.

When I am in Randominity, the only cure is to spew the thoughts out in one messy conglomerated entry that has no direction, no focus, no theme, it just IS.

So here you go...

~it is really raining today, and while I love the rain, it is so dark outside, and that is making it tough to wake up.
~I just made eye appointments for tomorrow afternoon, and I find those annoying
~I need to remember to put the new flea collar on the cat today.
~I feel like baking something this weekend, but I am not sure what I want to make
~I really want to be home right now, curled up under a blanket with Mike.
~Daylight savings is coming on Nov 1, and I am glad. I am tired of heading out to work when it is still semi-dark outside.
~I am hungry

So what about you? For your comments today, share some of your randominity with me.

Try, Try Again

2009-10-21T08:31:00.002-05:00

I have started three different entries so far this morning, with three different themes, and three different titles... but I can't focus.

I took a sleeping pill last night to help me get some solid rest, and although it certainly did its job, I can't shake the groggies this morning.

I decided not to do the product review. I don't know... if it was something I really wanted to do, I would not have been so conflicted about it.

I hate the fog in my mind right now...

To Review, or not to Review...

2009-10-20T13:16:00.002-05:00

So yesterday, I received my first request to review a product in my blog. They offered to send me a free copy of said product in exchange for me doing a blog review... My thoughts are muddled, so forgive the squiggly bullets as I mull out what I am thinking...

~I know I am not the only person they sent this review to, but still! I got asked to do a review!
~They offered me a free copy. Free! (translation: ZOMG! Free loot!)
~Doing product reviews is a great way to get free stuff, and to increase traffic to my blog. Since one of my goals IS to increase my readership over time, this would seem like a good move.
~But I don't want to seem like I have sold out. I want my blog to be MY blog.
~But if I do an honest review, whether I like it or not, then my words will still be MY words, right?
~ But what if I hate the product and I am gonna feel bad about a bad review
~ZOMG! Free loot!
~What do I do?
~What would others do in my situation?
~What is your opinion?
~Why can't I make up my mind?
~What should I say?
~I HAD planned on putting ads on my site if I ever got a decent readership
~This IS more controlled than random ads, right?
~What are the rules for this sort of thing?
~Are there legalities that I am not aware of?
~UGH! The agony of making a decision that could alter the direction of where my blog is going
~Why do I stress so much
~I should probably just say no, and move on, shouldn't I?
~But what if this is a good thing?

Help me, friends...

I am not asking you to tell me what to do, but give me some thoughts, some opinions, some insight into what others would do if they were me.

Please, before I end up in a padded room, all over a simple email request lol.

As Long As You Are There...

2009-10-15T08:40:00.002-05:00

2005

After our engagement in March, Mike and I began planning a wedding for later that fall. We picked out October 15 as the date for a variety of reasons including that it gave us enough time to plan. At the same time, it wasn't too far away, and it didn't clash with any holidays or birthdays. Personally, I liked it because I like the number 15. I have an odd obsession towards numbers, which I will go into at a later time, but the 15th sounded like a nice, solid number. Anyhow, the date was picked, and the preparations began.

Although Mike left most of the planning to me, he never was too far away. He was always willing to share his thoughts and his opinions on things. Our wedding would be fairly intimate, with just family and a few close friends. Our wedding party would consist of just me, the maid of honor, Mike, and his brother as the best man.

Through each stage of the planning, whenever I asked him what he thought of something, Mike would always give me an honest answer, and then would finish his comments with "but really, as long as you are there, it will be perfect".

As long as you are there.

I bought the dress, I printed our invitations and sent them out. His mother (a florist), offered to do my flowers for me. His aunt (a very talented seamstress) altered the gown for me when it arrived. Family and friends pitched in to help us keep the cost of the wedding as low as possible, while still making it the wedding of our dreams. We planned to have the wedding in the local Presbyterian church that his parents were attending at the time. Months and months before the wedding, all the details were complete. If I remember right, by about July, all our plans were in place, and we only had to wait for the day to arrive.

September 24, 2005
Three weeks before the wedding, Hurricane Rita landed.

This might not mean that much to you, but living in Southeast Texas, it meant our worlds were about to change. Mike and I evacuated for the storm, although his parents decided to stay behind. When the storm hit, it changed everything. The church where we planned to have the wedding had serious water damage, and wouldn't be ready before the wedding date. His parents had a tree come through the roof of their house. Our town was without power and water.

Mike and I drove back into town two days after the storm had landed, and we couldn't believe our eyes. Everything had changed. Someday, I will tell you the story of our evacuation and the aftermath of the storm, but that is another story.

On the drive back, Mike and I talked about what to do now. We couldn't have the wedding the way it was originally planned, that much was for sure. We didn't want to change the date, because we were leaving for a honeymoon cruise the day after the wedding, and we wanted to be married when we took our honeymoon (silly us!). His uncle told us that we could use their church if we wanted to, so we considered just moving the site of the wedding. However, the town was still without water and power, and they were predicting that it could take up to a month to get it restored. People, I don't know if you know this or not, but Southeast Texas in October can get HOT, and that was one of the hotter years that I have lived here. I had no intentions of putting on a heavy wedding dress in a church with no power. It would have been miserable. My sister was planning on coming in for the wedding, and she was about 7 months pregnant. I wasn't going to ask her to go through that.

But most of all, his sweet mother, who was perhaps even more concerned with what we were going to do now than we were, had just had a tree come through their roof, and they were dealing with insurance, and repairs, and no power, and no water.

And suddenly, I realized something. It just didn't matter that much to me, the wedding, that is. I remembered back to what Mike had said so many times during our planning process, "As long as you are there, it will be perfect". I stopped for a minute, shocked to realize that I didn't care if I wore the dress, I didn't care if I walked down the aisle, I didn't care if there was music playing, and Mike was in a tux. I wanted to be married to my love, the rest was just trappings. Truly, as long as he was there, it would be perfect.

So in the car that day, driving home from evacuation, I turned to Mike and asked if he would mind if we just had the Justice of the Peace marry us in his parents' living room. At first, I don't think he was all too sure if I would be really okay with that, but after I explained to him what I felt, he was all for it. I didn't need a church, I didn't need a preacher, I didn't need a dress. I needed Mike, and I needed to be his wife.

So as quickly as they had been made, the wedding plans were scrapped. We called his parents and made arrangements for the Justice of the Peace (who was a family friend, so that made it easier).

And on October 15, 2005, I stood next to the man I love, in the living room of his parents house, with his parents there, his brother and his girlfriend (now his wife) as our witnesses, and we said our vows. It was, without a doubt, the best day of my life.

I cannot stress this enough, my friends. The day was perfect. Absolutely, without a doubt, perfect. To this day, I have no regrets about not wearing the dress, no regrets about not being in a church, no regrets about anything.

I was there, Mike was there, and it was perfect.

I said it then, and I still say it now, our wedding day was absolutely nothing at all like we planned, but it was absolutely everything I always dreamed it would be.

Happy Anniversary, my love.

I Knew

2009-10-14T09:46:00.002-05:00

I remember when I was a teenager and a young adult, I didn't date very much at all. I would go out on a first date with someone, and just KNOW that this wasn't the one that I wanted to spend my time with. Friends would ask me what exactly it was I was looking for, and my response was "I will know him when I find him".

I was 28 when I met Mike. I left La Zona Rosa that night unaware of how much my life has changed, and how much more change was coming. I returned to my apartment in Dallas, where I stayed for the next couple months. Later that summer, severe financial difficulties led me to accept my brother's offer to stay with him and his family in Maryland for a few months while I got back on my feet. So I packed my bags, loaded up my car, and headed across the country.

Life in Maryland was not a happy time for me. The living situation was miserable, I was working two jobs to try to get the bills paid off, and I was unsure of where I was going next in life. In addition to that, all my friends lived far away, and I felt cut off and alone. One day, in late September or early October, I was at my day job, and looking for someone to talk to. I booted up AOL Instant Messenger, and Mike was the only person online on my friends list. Now this brings up a mystery I don't have an answer for. I don't remember ever EVER adding Mike to my friends list. I don't remember talking to him again after that Austin show. I am not sure how his name ended up on that list, but I am sure glad it was.

So I sent Mike a message. We began to talk. I remembered him. He remembered me.

During the time since the concert in June, Mike's relationship with the girlfriend had gone south, and was in it's death throes when we started chatting online. I was drawn to his sense of humor, his compassion, his sensitivity, but I cautioned myself not to get involved too deeply, because he was still tied up in the final stages of a bad relationship. But somehow, I knew.

Mike and I got closer, my feelings grew stronger. I made plans to fly to Nebraska for another Blue October show that October, and Mike made plans to drive up from Texas with a couple friends to see the same show. We were still just friends, but my heart went all pitter patter when I thought of seeing him at that show. Of seeing him in person again. You see, I knew.

I saw him again at the show in Nebraska, and oddly, we didn't hang out at the show at all. That was still in my "I HAVE to stand right in front of the stage days", so silly me traipsed off across the bar with a friend to go watch a band when the man that I was to spend the rest of my life with was standing back at the bar with another group of friends. After the show, we headed back to their hotel room (with a HUGE group of friends) to hang out, have some drinks, and just do what friends do after concerts, talk. Mike and I talked for a little while that night. I remember him making fun of how little I ate, I remember being drawn in by the sound of his voice. All too soon, I had to go with a friend to drop someone off at their house. Before I left, I wandered out to the balcony walkway outside the hotel room, and I told Mike I was leaving. He gave me a hug before I left. When he hugged me, I knew.

The months between that night and Christmas are a blur of drama, rough times, misunderstandings, and struggles. There came a point where I had to decide if I wanted to fight for Mike. Was this guy, that I had only seen twice in person, that I didn't really know all that well, was he worth it? He was, because I knew.

Making my decision to be with Mike was at the same time the easiest and the toughest choice of my life. He was the one I was giving my heart to. He was (and still is!) the man that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. But being with him would mean losing some relationships. It would mean facing a decision that I had been putting off for a long time. The decision of whether I really believed the rhetoric and doctrine that I had been fed in church and by my family. The decision of whether it was okay to stand up for myself and do something that would make ME happy, but would not make my family happy. The decision to put myself first for probably the first time in my life. The decision to do what was right for me. And still, in every moment that I weighed this decision, I knew.

I made my decision, I cut the ties that needed to be cut, I fought for the man I loved, and I won. At the end of 2003, I moved back to Texas, and moved in with Mike. Walking in the door for the first time with him at my side, I knew.

As you can imagine, as happens with any life changing decisions, more turmoil came along. But more than that, happiness. I was truly happy for the first time in a very long time. I had someone who loved ME, someone who didn't measure my worth by how "good" I was. Someone who didn't frown in disapproval when I made a choice that didn't go along with what they wanted. Someone who not only gave me strength, but encouraged me to use that strength, to stand on my own two feet, to make my own choices, to decide for myself. Someone who wanted me to be happy, no matter what path that took me down (although I am absolutely sure he wanted to be going down that same path with me!). Living with Mike, I knew.

March 11, 2005. I came home from a rough day at work, and Mike was already home. I was tired, and Mike sat me down on the couch. I don't remember what we talked about, but we chatted for a while. Then he mentioned that he had lost the remote to the TV. As is my nature, I jumped up from the couch and said that I would find it, but he insisted I sit down and rest. He said that he knew I was tired, and that it had probably fallen under the couch, and he would get it. So I sat back down, and was watching TV. He got down, and reached under the couch to find the remote. He said that he loved me. I said I loved him too. He said he wanted to marry me someday, and I said I felt the same (this was a conversation we had been having for some months). He asked me if I was sure I wanted to marry him, and I said yes, I was sure. Then he pulled out a ring box from under the couch and asked me if I wanted to make that official. I sat there stunned for a moment, I grinned, and maybe cried, and said YES! I said yes, because I knew.

I knew I had found the one I was looking for.

I knew that this was the man I wanted to share my life with.

I knew that he was the one.

I knew he loved me.

I knew that I loved him.

I knew.

(Tomorrow: The wedding that almost wasn't, but the marriage that was never in doubt)

The Day We Met

2009-10-13T13:10:00.002-05:00

June 28, 2003

The first time I met Mike wasn't the epiphany moment you read about in romance novels. We didn't look at each other, and stars appear. The rest of the world didnt fade until it was just Mike and me with Air Supply music playing in the background. We were at La Zona Rosa, a small bar in Austin. I was there to see Blue October for only the second time. I was insecure, unsure, meeting a lot of new people I had just previously talked to online. I wanted to fit in, I wanted to belong to this crowd, I wanted to be liked. Mike was there with his girlfriend, and was celebrating his birthday, which would be a few days later.

But that moment we met, it changed my life. Months later, when we would start talking online, I remembered meeting him. I remembered what he had been wearing at that moment, I remembered that I had been introduced to him, and that it was his birthday celebration. I remembered that I had been introduced also to the girlfriend, although for the life of me, I still cannot remember what she looked like. Mike remembers meeting me too. When we talked about it later, he told me what I had been wearing that night.

The funny thing is that that memory I have of meeting him, that visual picture I have in my head, he IS the only thing that stands out. The rest of that mental image is just a blur. So I guess it was the epiphany moment after all, I just didn't realize it at the time.

That is the fact that has stuck with me all this time. We remembered. Out of the whole crowd of people I met that night, I remembered Mike. He remembered me.

The rest of that night is pretty unremarkable. A concert, hanging out with friends. I actually didn't talk to Mike again the rest of the night. I am not sure I even saw him again in the crowd that night.

But we remembered.

(Tomorrow: Later that fall... aka... how we got together)

Pictures from Roll #3

2009-10-12T10:46:00.006-05:00

Ok, so I have a LOT of stuff that I want to blog about this week, but first things first. I finished up another roll of film almost a week ago, and I have just been really lazy about getting them uploaded and posting about them. But here you go!

I have to say, I am very happy with this roll. There was, in my mind, a noticeable improvement in picture composition and color, etc. Tell me what you think...

Mike and I took a wonderful trip to Houston to celebrate our upcoming anniversary, so that is where most of these shots came from.

This was the inside of our hotel room at the Four Seasons... pretty isn't it? What I like about this picture is the lighting, and the fact that I feel it looks like a brochure picture, even though I took it myself...

The people at the Four Seasons were amazing about recognizing our anniversary. They gave us two cards, and sent up a complimentary dessert plate full of goodies. What I like about this picture is that even though it is unintended, the lighting reflected in the glass table makes it look like it is split in half, light and dark. Also, the focus turned out wonderfully. This is probably my favorite picture on this roll (Mike agrees).

This is another shot of the same plate (although you might notice some of the treats are gone by this point). I am very happy with the crisp focus on this flower in this one.

One of our stops in Houston was the House of Blues, which is where we went to see The Decemberists in concert. Inside the restaurant, was this mosiac of glass tiles, each imprinted with the face of a blues musician. The odd thing is that in the actual restaurant, these faces are not that easy to see, they blend in, and make this look like a bunch of blue glass blocks unless you look closer. I will admit, I used auto focus on this one, but I was happy with the way the flash highlighted the faces and brought them out. What I don't like is the red whatever in the corner that obstructed part of the view.

This one is my second favorite on the roll. Again, I have to admit that I used auto focus, mostly because I was standing on a busy street corner, and I didn't want to take a long time with this shot. I like the off-centeredness (is that even a word?) of this picture, the fact that it all is in focus, and the contrast of the sky behind it.

So there you go, folks, roll #3.

What do you think? What are your favorites?

An Award? For Little Ol' Me?

2009-10-08T20:57:00.003-05:00

Thanks to Chelle for my first ever blog award!
And although I don't usually answer these survey thingies, I will in this case because I got a purty award!

Rules
1. You Can Only Use One Word!
2. Pass this along to 6 of your favorite bloggers
3. Alert them that you have given them this award!
4. Have Fun!

The Fun Part
1. Where is your cell phone? Purse
2. Your hair? Frizzy
3. Your mother? Complex
4. Your father? Nerdy
5. Your favorite food? Cheese
6. Your dream last night? Scary
7. Your favorite drink? Margarita
8. Your dream/goal? Children
9. What room are you in? Kitchen
10. Your hobby? WoW
11. Your fear? Loneliness
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Here
13. Where were you last night? Home
14. Something that you aren’t? Bold
15. Muffins? Blueberry
16. Wish list item? House
17. Where did you grow up? Military
18. Last thing you did? WoW
19. What are you wearing? Slacks
20. Your TV? Wonderful
21. Your pets? Gato
22. Friends? Few
23. Your life? Content
24. Your mood? Stable
25. Missing someone? Family
26. Vehicle? Cruiser
27. Something you’re not wearing? earrings
28. Your favorite store? Amazon
29. Your favorite color? Black
30. When was the last time you laughed? Everyday
31. Last time you cried? Forgot
32. Your best friend? Mike
33. One place that I go to over and over? Church
34. One person who emails me regularly? Nobody
35. Favorite place to eat? Tokyo

Recipients:
Grace in the Home
The Sages
Katryna
Drops of Jupiter

What the Heck is ~Ifer?

2009-10-08T13:23:00.003-05:00

You know, I just realized that I never explained the name of the blog, and I suppose with more and more people reading now who don't know where that name came from, this is something of increasing importance.

It is, plain and simple, the second half of my name, Jennifer.

Several years back, in a chat room of internet friends, as we tried to carry on a conversation, there was another Jennifer in the room (when in my life HASN'T there been another Jennifer in the room?!), and everyone was getting confused as to who was talking. It was decided on that since the other Jennifer (let's call her Jenn) and I made a lot of the same comments, that we must really be two halves of the same person, so our friends started calling her Jenn, and me ~ifer. It just stuck from there, and people still call me that, at least among that circle of our friends.

Important things to know about the name ~Ifer

~You must ALWAYS have the squiggle in front of it. I know technically it is called a tilde or something like that, but this is my nickname, and therefore, I call this a squiggle. I have actually had characters on games that I named Squigglyifer. So don't neglect the squiggle.

~Pronounciation: Just like you were saying the name Jennifer, except leave out the Jenn part. It is a short I, so "ifff-er", not "eye-fer"

~the i can be capitalized or not, same difference to me.

So that's how it came to be... and it would probably have died off after that, except that around that same time, Mike and I started dating. It was long distance at first, and he would send me emails and cards, and he addressed them to "My ~ifer". I liked being Mike's ~Ifer, so that name has extra special meaning to me now.

And yes, I know I promised a while back the story of how Mike and I got together, and I will, but not today...

To Every Thing... Turn, Turn, Turn

2009-10-07T08:19:00.002-05:00

How do you handle change?

Specifically, how do you cope with things when you yourself begin to change, and you feel yourself pulling away from the things and people that you used to find comfort in?

How do you tell friends that view you one way that you aren't that way anymore?

How do you tell people that your beliefs have changed, or are changing, without making it sound like you are judging them for staying the same?

How do you let people go when they refuse to let you change, when they insist on you being the person you used to be?

How do you fill the spots in your life, the holes left by the people that you have to move on past?

These are the questions that we have been dealing with lately. The struggle to grow and evolve and become a better person while dealing with some people that scoff and scorn. The struggle to explain to your friends that yes, I used to feel like you do now, but my beliefs have changed, are changing.

And then when you get past that sometimes necessary culling of people that are in your life, what then? Now you have empty spots, relationships gone, situations where you need people to count on once more, and now those people are gone.

How do you handle change?

Update

2009-10-06T08:43:00.002-05:00

I am a bad, bad blogger...

Life and work seem to be moving along at such a fast pace this past week or so that I have trouble finding time to sit down and write a post out.

I have pictures, and stories, from this past weekend's trip to Houston to see the Decemberists (who were phenomenal!), and I promise, I will try to post them all up sometime very very soon :)

A Matter of Perception

2009-09-29T08:23:00.002-05:00

I woke up this morning to the sound of our cat playing with a jingle bell somewhere in our house.

I know you probably read that sentence and think... "um.... wooo?" But I have a story to tell, my friends, so pull up a chair and let me explain why I would start off with that.

I was first annoyed because I am not a fan of our cat waking us up playing with her toys, which she does on very rare occasions. She usually likes to dive into something noisy at around 5am, a couple hours before we are ready to be woken. This sequence of events usually involves me climbing out of bed, tracking down the cat and her toy, taking the toy away, and stashing it somewhere high up, or in a drawer, and crawling back into bed to try to grab a few more hours of sleep. This was my plan when I heard the bell this morning. I rolled over, and looked at the clock, and saw that it was 7am, exactly when I needed to be getting out of bed, and I saw that my alarm clock hadn't gone off like it was supposed to. This brings me to my point...

We haven't bought our cat a jingle bell toy in over a year.
I thought I had thrown away all the bells in our house for this reason.
I can't find the bell now when I go looking for it.
She quit playing with it as soon as I got out of bed and started getting ready for work.
She didn't start playing with it until it was time to wake me up.

Now, let me start this by saying that I am a person guilty of scoffing at people for "over spiritualizing" things. I have a firm faith in God, I believe He works in our lives and that He watches out for us, but I don't believe that EVERYTHING is His doing. I believe that sometimes there are coincidences. Sometimes, we reap the benefit or consequence of someone else's decisions. Sometimes things really do just happen. I believe that if you get accepted to college, it is just as much the time and effort and work that you put into studying throughout school as it is some divine "luck" that you were accepted. I think our sweat and tears and labor means as much to the outcome of things as chance, or as the hand of God.

That being said, I could not help but feel that I was being taken care of this morning. I could not help but feel that someone was watching out for me. It was time for me to get up and get to work, the alarm was not going off, so the cat was put to work with the mysterious, missing jingle bell.

What about you? What is your perception of events when things like this happen to you? Are you one that sees God in everything, or are you more a believer in chance and circumstance?

I am really curious to know...

Feeling Quiet...

2009-09-28T15:37:00.002-05:00

I have been going through a normal phase of "feeling quiet" lately. That kind of quiet where Mike occasionally turns to me and says "are you ok? you are very quiet". The kind of quiet that often WOULD signify that something is wrong, but in this case it doesn't.

It is a peaceful kind of quiet. A quiet where I don't feel the need to vent, I don't feel the need to purge my soul. I don't feel the need to talk things to death, as I am sometimes prone to do. I don't feel the need to self-examine my self, my personality, my history, my life.

It's a calm content quiet.

I am sitting here now listening to the rain and just enjoying. I am watching the clock for when it will be time to go home for the day. I am anticipating the upcoming weekend away with my sweetheart (more on that tomorrow!).

But mostly, I am here...

I am content to be quiet.
I am content to be.
I am content.

In Memory of...

2009-09-25T10:15:00.001-05:00

today would have been Jim Henson's 63rd birthday. I don't have words to tell you how much his work impacted my life as a child, so I won't try... I will just share this...

Migraines are teh debil!

2009-09-25T08:16:00.002-05:00

I fought all day yesterday with a migraine, a constant back and forth battle that went from the verge of victory to admitted defeat. I took the pain pills, I stretched out on the bed when I could, I took it as easy as possible, I still managed a full day of work. I went to bed last night finally, with the feeling that the evil migraine from hell was almost gone, only to wake up at 1am with my head splitting so badly that I thought I was going to be sick. I slowly climbed out of bed, took some more meds, and lay back down until the pain went away enough for me to sleep again.

This morning? I am doing much better. The pain is gone now, and I am only left with that mind haze that a really bad migraine leaves behind. That feeling in the back of your skull that the pain is laughing and pointing a finger at you and chanting "neener, neener" and you know that it could come back, and yet it hasn't yet.

I hope today goes smoothly. I hope this low pressure weather system breaks and moves on so that my head can stop working like a barometer.

And I want my day back from yesterday. I feel cheated.

I am ready for this weekend, for sure. I need time with Mike, to unwind, to relax, to enjoy.

A Sense of Belonging

2009-09-22T09:43:00.004-05:00

Making new friends has never been easy for me. As the child of an Army man, we moved all the time, and starting your circle of friends over was a fact of life, but that doesn't mean I ever got used to it. I always hated the feeling of walking into a new classroom, with the groups of kids that all seemed to know each other, all seemed to have their inside jokes and little giggly secrets that I wouldn't be a part of. The intellectual in me KNEW that these kids moved a lot too, and that these friendships weren't that steadfast, and that I would be included in one of those groups eventually.

I still never forget that first minute of walking into that classroom.

The first Sunday my family would visit the new church. All the families that looked so happy and settled, our walking down the aisle to always, ALWAYS sit in the second pew back (My dad's joking comment on this: "No matter what church we go to, I always sit in this pew so that God can find me"). The awkwardness, the insecurity, the feeling of isolation.

Moving here, to this town that Mike grew up in, had a lot of that for me. There were a few moments of insecurity for me. For the first time in my life, I not only was the new kid in town, but I was the new kid in a town of kids that had lived there their whole lives. I was truly an outsider, at least at first. I felt like I belonged with Mike, I felt like I belonged in his family, but at first, I didn't feel like I was part of this town.

A lot has changed since those first months here. Somewhere along the way, I developed ties to the town we live in. I find myself smiling at Vern walking down the street (another story). I find myself caring about the town, and its economy, and its people. I find myself becoming involved in a church. I find myself feeling at home.

While this makes me happy, there is a little part of me, deep inside that is scared by this feeling. Emotional ties were a dangerous thing in the life of an Army brat. I learned as a child to never really allow myself to become too attached to anything, because my whole world would change in a few years. This is a defense mechanism that I had to learn to let go. I had to learn that it's okay to put down roots, it is a good thing, there are many blessings, many benefits, from allowing yourself to belong.

I have always felt I belonged with Mike.
I have always felt I belonged in his family.
I now feel that I belong here, in this town, in this state.

I belong.

Pictures from Roll #2

2009-09-21T08:41:00.006-05:00

So here is the latest batch of pictures from roll #2... I was happier with more of these pictures, but there were still some real duds that I didn't post this time around...

This first one is another picture of the vine that is growing up the post in front of my house. I like this shot because it appears abstract and almost fake (the vine). The background is out of focus, and so all that exists is this vine that is struggling to make its way up the post.

Next couple are from the inside of the church that I work at. I really like the perspective on this first one. The color is a little washed out in the foreground due to flash, but that same flash picked up the golden cross on the altar and lit up the full aisle, so it gave a good sense of perspective. Overall, pretty happy with this one.

Here we have a close up shot of the cross that you saw in the last picture. I am actually very pleased with the flash effect in this one. The rest of the picture remained dark, with just the cross and the top of the Bible being illuminated.

These next two are some of my favorites on this roll I think. It is the same shot, one with a flash and one without. The one with the flash is pretty cool because of the brick detail that you can see. The one without the flash is a little dark for my liking, but at the same time, it is kind of cool because it almost looks like the window is floating in midair.

This next shot was taken on 9-11 at a local convenience store. The flag is probably as big as the store itself, and although I have seen it flying there before, the immense size of the flag, plus the fact that they had it at half-mast, really caught my eye. Overall, I really like the picture too, because although I didnt really notice the clouds at the time, I think they give an interesting backdrop to the picture.

This next one is a random flower that suddenly bloomed next to the door of my house. I didnt plant it, not sure where it came from, but I walked out my door one day and it was there. Pretty happy with the focus on this one. I think the bloom is highlighted, the colors vibrant, and the background in just the right amount of "out of focus"

This last one is from an overgrown area near our house. It's not the most colorful, its not the artsiest, but I like it... I actually really like it alot because out of all the pictures I took, I feel this one tells a story the best. The explosion of such a wide variety of plants, the vibrancy of their colors and contrasts, the broken and deserted planter... I don't know... I almost feel as though this is a scene of something that was left behind and forgotten being overtaken by new life.

Again, none of these have been photoshopped, all straight out of the camera...

So my friends, what do you think? Which do you like the most? And why? I would really like to hear about why you connect with certain pictures, and what you like or dislike about the shots...

Quick Update

2009-09-18T14:39:00.002-05:00

I just got back my second roll of film, and there are several that I am very pleased with. I will try to get them uploaded and posted tonight.

I am excited!

Lovebugs

2009-09-17T13:06:00.002-05:00

I hate them.

I just wanted to let you know that.

I love so much about the fall in Southeast Texas. I love the changes in the weather, the cooler breezes. I love the changing colors (although living in the Piney Woods, there is always gonna be a lot of green). I love fall.

But I hate lovebugs.

They are not romantic, they are not cute. They are annoying

They are everywhere.

They stick together in this horrible death-fated embrace, and fly around, in swarms. They get in the car, they get all over the car, they stick in your hair, they stick to your clothes.

They are a nuisance.

Please make them go away?

Childhood Heroes

2009-09-15T08:16:00.002-05:00

Patrick Swayze passed away yesterday. I am sure you all know that, but I felt the need to state that, to lay the foundation for the rest of the post, I suppose.

I am saddened by his passing, honestly. Not that he was a personal friend of mine, not that I had ever even seen him in person, but still... saddened.

I think it was more what he represents to me. He was so much of my growing up, so many movies that impacted my life, from Red Dawn to Roadhouse to yes, Dirty Dancing. But like I said, this is about more than Patrick Swayze himself... it is about the passing of my childhood.

This year has seen so much of my childhood pass away, from Farah to Michael to Ed McMahon to Patrick now. I am sure there are more that I am forgetting. With each passing, I feel like part of my past is gone. Something I grew up with, something I cherished, something I remember.

It brings the knowledge that I am getting older. Only older people have childhood icons that are die off. Only older people mourn the passing of those that helped form their view of society in childhood. Only older people, right?

How did I get to be one of the older people?

Patrick Swayze will be missed. He was a fine actor, and genuinely seemed to be a nice guy from what I could tell.

He will also be missed for what he represented... they will each be missed for what they represented... those pieces of my childhood memories, those influences they had on my life, on my culture, on my world.

Rest In Peace, Mr. Swayze

Wolverines!

Living My Whole Life

2009-09-11T08:33:00.003-05:00

Please don't spend your whole life waiting for your whole life...
~Ours

The lyrics to this song are on a new CD that we got this week. I was listening to it yesterday, and the song struck me so much that I put the CD back to this song this morning. This song reminds me of today, of September 11.

I am sure you will read a lot of blogs and stories today remembering what happened that day. Those moments, those hours, those days... they will never be forgotten, even if time allows the vividness of them to fade. I would like to think that we learned something that day. Something as a nation, something as a people, something as an individual.

I remember that day, not as a full story, but as freeze-frame moments.
~Me in my car on the way to work calling my roommate because I heard that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. At this time, we still thought it a freak accident
~The first realization that this was an intentional attack
~The second plane
~The Pentagon
~Being at work, but nobody was doing any work, we were gathered around the radio listening for updates.
~The silence of the airport... I worked about 5 miles from the DFW airport in Dallas, and the lack of noise is something I will never forget.

I will never forget the people that lost their lives that day. The ones that were gone in an instant, and the ones that died trying to save others. But for me, remembering this day is about more than just remembering the ones that are gone. It is about a lesson I learned that day.

You see, more than any other memory I have of 9-11-01, the thing that sticks out is the fear. The complete and overwhelming fear. The knowledge that our country was not as invincible as I had always perceived. The knowledge that we were vulnerable. More than that, the knowledge that we could be next. Mixed in with every moment of mourning the people that died that day was the realization that it could have been me. It could have been us. It could BE us.

I was so scared that day. I didn't want it to be me. I didn't want our lives to change, although they already had. I wanted that sense of carelessness and recklessness that I used to have. That innate knowledge that nothing REALLY bad was going to happen. That life could be dealt with. That problems could be handled. I realized that I had so much life that I still wanted to live.

The lesson I learned that day was the lyrics of the song I started with... please don't spend your whole life waiting for your whole life. It was the knowledge that life is ever so precious, and it doesn't go on forever. It was the realization that we don't know how much time we have left, so enjoy life. LIVE life.

Mike and I make an effort to enjoy our lives. Sure, there are things we plan for, things we want in the future. We want to own our own home, we want to adopt a child, etc. But the key is... don't miss what is here now in an effort to plan for what is down the road. Don't spend your whole life waiting for your whole life, and thereby missing the life that you have each day.

Life is precious, my friends. Every moment, every day, every smile from your husband, every greeting from a friend.

There are many memorials for those that were lost on that day. There will be many speeches spoken, many essays written, many stories told in far more eloquent words that I can come up with. Those words are important, those memories are important. But I also think that the people that died that day would think it the greatest honor of all if we allowed their deaths to make our lives more precious. Don't forget them, but don't stay locked in a time warp where all we do is look back on that day and fear.

Honor their memory by not letting the bad guys win. Honor their memory by holding your loved ones close. Honor their memory by being constantly aware of how very precious life is. Honor their memory by living...

by living your WHOLE life.

Pictures, Pictures, Pictures (for real)

2009-09-09T20:44:00.003-05:00

Ok, finally got the pictures back from my first roll of film, so I thought I would share them with you... even the not so great ones.

These first shots are of our cat, Bessie (who only responds to the name "Gato"... long story). These are epic because in the years we have had her, these are the first good photos of her that I have taken. For some reason, she HATES the digital camera, and will not sit still, but for the 35mm, she just poses up pretty...

A random flower on a tree outside our house... its ALMOST right, but just barely out of focus. I was working on manual focus on this roll (which the exception of the cat pictures lol), so that is an area I will continue to try to improve.

Another flower on another tree... again, almost in focus, but just barely missing the perfect mark...

This stack of firewood has been sitting on our front porch since last year, and it has begun to grow this brilliant yellow moss. The color was too fantastic to pass up...

A couple pictures of a vine that is growing up the post on our front porch. I am very happy with the focus on these two, but I would have reduced the flash just a little bit. The color is just a tad bit washed out for my liking...

Before I show you the last one, the one that I am MOST proud of, let me tell you that I don't even own Photoshop. These pictures are all straight out of the camera, because I figure I can learn best that way. Anyone can doctor up a picture to make it look nicer, but I am trying to take really good pictures to start with.

So with that being said, here is a picture of a random azalea bloom on a bush in our driveway. It is the only bloom on the bush, and is very out of season, so it caught my eye. The color is beautiful, the focus is sharp, and the camera is of high enough quality to capture the texture of the leaves...

I have roll #2 loaded and ready in the camera. Let me know what you think of these, and what you would change...

~Ifer

I promise I am alive...

2009-09-08T08:15:00.001-05:00

I am alive and back at work. This weekend was rough... it was a long weekend where both Mike and I were laid up most of the weekend with really bad summer colds. I am still sniffling and blowing my nose today. I am going to try to be back this afternoon with a real post.

Stupid Sticker Make Hulk Mad!

2009-09-03T13:07:00.002-05:00

On the way back to work from lunch, I pulled up at a light behind a woman in an SUV. From all appearances, the woman was in her late 30s, or maybe 40s. On the back window of her SUV was a bumper sticker (or is it a window sticker if you stick it on the window? hmmm) that said "Warning! I drive like a Cullen".

I would like to address today's entry to the woman driving that vehicle.

~I hate that you drive a car around with a stupid, STUPID, Twilight-referenced sticker on your window.
~I hate that you are that old and are still THAT obviously into Twilight
~I hate that Twilight is invading every aspect of my life, and that I can't even drive down the road without seeing it.
~I hate that I wasted my time when I got back to the office to google the term "drive like a Cullen" to educate myself
~I hate that I now know what that means
~I hate that I feel stupider for knowing what that means
~I hate that I AM stupider for knowing what that means

I have already established that I hate Twilight, so I won't delve into that again.

but so help me God if I have to start carrying around crosses and stakes to ward off all these vampire freaks, I will.

I swear to God I will.

Our Town

2009-09-02T08:12:00.003-05:00

Last night, I hated our town. Specifically, I hated it at 2:30am, 4:30am, and 6:30am when the train came through town and felt the need to blast its horn for long periods of time, over and over and over.

I guess I should back up a bit and explain. The town we live in was built on the railroad. Actually the town was founded over 100 years ago, and was built on the lumber industry and our local lumber mill. But these things could not have been without the railroad that goes through town. That railroad allowed the town to prosper, and has done well by our city for many years. With the decline of the railroad though, its usefulness to our city has diminished, and is replaced by a nuisance. We seriously have a switching station that sits right smack in the middle of the city, and so when the train is changing out cars, it blocks the main road through town, sometimes for up to an hour.

Anyhow, this brings me to last night. The train doesn't USUALLY run during the middle of the night, or if it does, it is usually really quiet with little to no horn blasting, but on the rare occasion that it runs throughout the night (or maybe its the rare occasion that we have Cranky McCrankerston engineering the train), we get woken up several times by the horn of a train. Last night was just such a special occasion.

To make matters worse, Mike is pretty sick with a summer head and chest cold, and he was having enough trouble sleeping as it was. So when I would be woken up by the train, it would make me mad for not only myself, but also for "that damn train is waking up my sick husband".

So last night I hated our town.

Then this morning, I walked out my front door, full of bitterness towards our town and all that it involved, and I walked out into the perfect morning. The perfect morning that we don't get to enjoy very often in Southeast Texas. Crisp cool air in the 70's, the sun shining out of a brilliant blue sky with puffy white clouds, a gentle breeze blowing. It was the kind of morning that poets write about. The kind of morning that you think of when you hear "Colorado" (or at least I do).

Let me tell you, it took just one breathe of that perfect morning for me to not hate our town anymore. Yes, I am still tired from last night, yes, Mike is still sick, yes, I still hate the train in our town.

But the morning? This morning?

Perfect.

First Photos

2009-08-31T13:34:00.003-05:00

I took some pictures with my new 35mm camera this weekend... would you like to see them?

too bad!

No, seriously, the only down side to a film camera is that there are still 14 shots in the camera before I can get it developed, so you will have to be patient with me and hopefully this week I will take it out again and finish up the roll.

Things I am looking forward to this week:
~Friday night is a meeting of the Astronomy club that Mike and I found in our local area. We haven't been before, and we are both looking forward to meeting some people who know a little more about the stars, hanging out with other nerds, and generally learning more about our new hobby.
~Next Monday is Labor Day, which means my office is closed and I get a 3 day weekend!
~Taking the rest of the roll of film so that I can get my pictures developed

From what I did take this weekend, I am really digging the new camera. It has the ability to change the depth of field so that I can focus on just that one flower, or I can focus on the inside of the bloom, or whatever. Those artsy shots where the one thing is in focus and the rest of the background is fuzzy? I can do that now!

In other news, I participated in that IComLeavWe event this past week, which is basically a week where you commit to posting on other people's blogs that sign up. It was really nice to have that feeling that people were reading my work, and I hope that a few of them stick around, even though that event is over for August :)

A Message from a Friend

2009-08-28T11:36:00.002-05:00

A while back I wrote about the importance of holding hands, and a few days later, I received a message in my facebook inbox. I am posting this story with her permission, because I thought it was too beautiful for you to miss...

I read your blog about holding hands a little while back.. it was beautiful and so poignant how something so simple made all the difference. It made me want to share this story with you.

Yesterday was our 4 year anniversary. Four years married but it will be 18 together in Dec. As we were walking down the main isle in Target, J held my hand and gave me a little kiss on the forehead. This is an everyday occurrence, we still hold hands, even to fall asleep sometimes . But at the same time he made a comment “Remember when we were young and holding hands was a really big deal.” He remembered the day he and I walked into school and down the hall holding hands for the first time. It was a big sign to everyone that said we are together now! I was taken back that he remembered that and then the day flashed in my memory as well. It was such a big deal that I was actually given demerits on the drill team for behavior unbecoming of a lady. I told him your story and how beautiful I thought it was. How I never realized that something so simple could be a big key. But then it hit me, when was the last time you saw a couple holding hands in public that was under 30? Under 60? I can’t even remember. It made me sad, holding hands is not a big deal anymore. It seems to me it is an overall sign of the lack of intimacy our society has lost. It made me wonder how many relationships would last, how many marriages would not break apart. Then I thought how lucky I was that my husband not only wanted to hold my hand but remembered the first time he got to do so in front of everyone. Anyway I just wanted to let you know that "always remember to hold hands" is my new motto!

This message from my friend meant so much to me. It was important to know that other people are still holding hands, and that she took the time to share this with me...

Isn't it lovely?

Every Which Way But Loose...

2009-08-27T08:47:00.003-05:00

I am a bundle of emotions lately, and I can't seem to get myself calmed down or focused. I am up. I am down. I am irritated. I am happy. I am content. I am stressed. I am calm. I am weepy. I am angry. I am...

Usually I am pretty much in control of my emotions. I am a stable person, but more than that, I have a great fear of being controlled by my emotions, so I take great effort to make sure I am the one in charge. I trace this back to when I was a kid and I threw spectacular temper tantrums.

My mom tells the story of when I was just entering my terrible twos, and I was more than a handful. I believed in the glory and drama of a truly well executed tantrum. She tells me that they tried everything to break me of this behavior, until one day they found the key. I walked into the room (very calmly) and started pitching a fit about God knows what. When I didn't get my way, I lay down on the floor and started kicking and hitting the ground and screaming. My mom says I looked so ridiculous that she just started laughing. In her words "I know you aren't supposed to laugh at your kids when they are misbehaving, but you were a sight". As the story goes, when I heard her laughing, I stopped screaming, stood up, dusted off my dress, and calmly walked back out of the room.

This tells me two very important things about myself as a child
~ Even then I didn't like feeling embarassed, and apparently this situation embarassed me. I didn't like that I wasn't being taken seriously, so I stopped.
~I was smart enough to recognize a hopeless situation.

That wasn't the end of my temper though, no no no. I can remember in first grade when I got into an argument with another girl in my class and punched her in the nose (the only time I have ever punched another person in my life). Side note: the day after this happened, me and the girl became best friends, and remained best friends for the next 3 years until her family got transferred.

You know how you have those memories of your childhood that were defining moments? Those crystallized memories that you can still see as clearly as the moment they happened? One of mine was the day that my mom sat me down to really talk to me about my temper. I must have been about 8 or 9 at the time. My mother, when I was a child, was the model of patience. I don't say that with any sarcasm at all. I rarely if ever remember her getting truly mad at us kids. I can remember as a kid that I always looked at my mom and wondered why I couldn't be like that, why I had all this anger inside, and she was at peace. And then she sat me down one day and told me the story of when she was a kid. She told me that she used to have a really bad temper, and that she had to learn to control it, or else it would control her. She told me that I needed to learn to master my temper too. That I COULD do it. I had the strength to control the anger that I felt was brewing inside, and that if I worked at it, someday it wouldn't control me. I couldn't believe it... my mom fought the anger too? My mother, the calm, peaceful one, she understood? She fought the demons too? That moment changed my life, and the funny thing is, that my mom doesn't remember having that conversation with me. She confirms to this day that she did indeed have a bad temper as a child, but she doesn't remember telling me the story. Amazing how the little things we do can sometimes have the biggest impact.

Anyhow... I fought, like my mom told me to. I learned to control it. I learned when it was worthwhile to argue, and when it made more sense to save my breath. I learned how much energy it required to care about everything, and then I learned to let go of the details. Focus on the important, don't waste time on the petty.

That brings me to today... well, at least to the person I am today. I still fight that fight at times. I still have to tell myself sometimes to let it go. And here is another fun fact about me... I don't buy into the "I am PMSing" excuse. I don't agree with the fact that so many women seem to feel that just because they are feeling hormonal, that excuses bitchy behavior. Sure, I am not in a great mood sometimes, but that doesn't mean that I have the right to make the rest of the world miserable along with me.

I believe in control, I guess is what I am trying to say with this long ramble today. I believe in controlling and focusing and using your emotions, and not letting them control, focus, and use you. And although I am not going to get into the topic today, I do understand that there are those people that need help controlling the emotions.

So all that to say this... I don't like when my emotions are in a whirlwind. I like definition, I like control. And on days like today, I feel like the little girl inside me is fighting to get out once again.

She won't win. Would someone please pass that message along to her?

A Quote for the Day

2009-08-26T15:17:00.001-05:00

Because work is crazy busy, getting ready to kick off the fall events and classes here at the church, I thought I would just leave you with a quote for now...

"If we only have the will to walk, then God is pleased with our stumbles"
~C.S. Lewis

I hope to be back later to post more.

Sick Tummy Makes Me A Sad Pancake

2009-08-25T09:53:00.002-05:00

Ok, so here is a quick glimpse into the humor that exists in our household. I made pancakes for dinner again on Saturday night, and as I mentioned before, I cook a mean flapjack. This time, however, on the third pancake, I wasn't paying attention, and it overcooked a little too much for my liking. No problem, I just set that pancake on a plate off to the side and went on to cook the rest of the pancakes. Mike and I sat down to enjoy a good dinner, and afterwards, he was taking the dishes into the kitchen when he came across the lone pancake, still off to the side on its plate. Since the pancake wasn't burned, but merely a little overcooked, Mike asked me why there was a pancake sitting off to the side, all by itself. Once I explained my reasons, Mike got very quiet in the kitchen for a few seconds. Next thing I knew, I could hear him giggling to himself in the kitchen.. then he called my name, and when I looked up to see what he wanted, he was holding this:

and he said "being left alone makes this pancake a sad pancake".

Now, I don't know if it was the unexpected nature of what he had done by drawing a face on it, the fact that the pancake now looked like an emoticon of the food world, or if it was the ability he has to find humor in every situation, but it cracked me up. I couldn't stop laughing. And when I finally did, he just held up the pancake again and started telling me the reasons why I made this pancake a "sad pancake". I tell you what, that man knows how to make me laugh. And I truly find it a gift to be able to see the humor in the little things in life.

As for the rest of the title of today's post... I spent Sunday night and Monday morning with an upset stomach, and in fact, I stayed home from work yesterday, which is partially to blame for me not posting yesterday. And just when I got over it, Mike seemed to catch the same bug.

Luckily, we are both feeling better healthwise, and are, in fact, no longer sad pancakes.

I hope you all are doing well, and that all your pancakes have smiles today.

Not Just Newlyweds

2009-08-21T13:05:00.003-05:00

Do you know what phrase I absolutely hate?
The words I detest when spoken to me?

"Awww... y'all are just newlyweds"

Important to note: We live in Texas, so this phrase is always delivered with the "awww... y'all" beginning as notated above.

My husband and I are big on romance. He is a sweetheart of a guy who has no qualms at all about showing affection in public. We end every phone call with an "I love you" and a smooched "MUAH!". Yes, he does too, it isn't just on my end.

He tells me he misses me several times throughout the day when we are apart. I miss him terribly too, sometimes with a physical ache at being apart.

Mike gives the greatest hugs in the world, the kind that wrapped you up and insulate you away from the bad crap that the world is throwing at you. The kind that sooth your pain and make the whole world better because he is going to keep you safe in that hug.

We fall asleep every night wrapped up in each other's arms. We are snugglers.

We don't travel alone, we do it all together.

In 4 years of marriage, and a total of 6 years together, we have never, not ONCE, spent a night apart. I don't want to fall asleep without Mike there, holding me.

Does all this sound like a fairytale out of a book? Maybe. But it isn't. This is our marriage.

Mike and I have an all-encompassing love for each other. Since we first got together, our lives have been about our marriage. We are all we've got, we are all we need, we are all we want. We have OUR friends, not his friends and my friends.

This brings me to my point. Those that look at our marriage, look at our love for each other, and tell me that it is just because we are newlyweds. Just because we haven't been together for a thousand years, doesn't mean that what we have isn't real.

This isn't fake dating romance, people, this is true love. This is devotion to your spouse and consciously making sure that the romance is present. This is marriage, at its finest.

If Mike and I were an elderly couple, married for 50 years, people would look at us, see our behavior, and talk about how amazing it is that we love each other that much, that we are still that in love with each other. Why is it any less because we have been married a shorter amount of time?

The answer: it isn't. So do me a favor, and please don't belittle our love by implying that it is somehow going to go away the longer we are married. We are in this for a lifetime, and a lifetime from now, I will still be telling my husband that I love him before I hang up the phone each time. A lifetime from now, I will still want him next to me at the end of every day. A lifetime from now, we will still be newlyweds.

This is not some passing phase, this is love.

Oh, and don't even get me started on the ones that say "just wait until y'all have kids".

Busy Busy

2009-08-20T16:35:00.003-05:00

I have been so busy at work today, I am just now sitting down to write something.

I am in the process of updating our website here at the church, and it is cumbersome to say the least. The good news is that I am learning all kinds of interesting things about slide shows, and html code, and all that goodness.

Now if I could just find someone to design a good masthead for our website and teach me how to fix the design layout, I would be ecstatic.

Well, back to work for me now..

Revisited...

2009-08-19T10:45:00.002-05:00

I have received a couple really nice comments on the post from the other day about church and my faith... comments that have got me thinking further on the topic, and there are a few points that I feel I left out in my original post that I want to make, if you will bear with me.

~I am in no way ashamed of, or regretful for, the childhood I had. There was much that I learned along the way that still sticks with me to this day. There is much that was good in that life. I just had to learn to keep the good and let the rest go. I had to learn to use that good to form a foundation that I can continue to build more good on.

~Although this journey is an intensely personal journey of faith, I am not on the trip alone. Mike is there with me every step of the way. Mike has been there for me every time I face a point in life when I struggled with the past, and how to move on. Mike is the one that gave me the strength to stand up and be my own person. I know that sounds contradictory, but it isn't. I needed him there to tell me that it was okay to be whoever I needed to be. In an odd, paradoxal way, his approval was what I needed to move on and learn that I don't need the approval of others. I could not do this without him, I don't want to do this without him. And at the same time, Mike is on a journey of his own, but that is his story to tell.

~I don't have all the answers for you. I don't even have all the answers for myself. I am learning, I am growing. All the Bible knowledge in the world doesn't equal spiritual maturity. I am seeking, I am craving, I am learning.

~I am not going to say that the church that we go to is the right one for everyone. That is very important to me. This church is the right one for US. This church is not the reason we are getting back to God, but it is a tool to help us along the way. The important thing is that you find what is right for you. Find a place where you can grow, where you can learn, where you can ask questions, where you can form your own faith.

Tomorrow, I think I will move back to lighter topics, and tell you about how I came to be a Blue October fan. This is important, because that story leads to the story of how Mike and I came to be a couple.

Our Weekend Trip

2009-08-18T13:32:00.003-05:00

So yeah... I failed at getting the pictures of me and Mike that I said I was going to try for. I did however get some pictures of the place that we stayed at!

We went to Lake Charles and stayed at the L'Auberge Du Lac Casino (means Inn on the Lake) (yeah, I am nerdy enough to have looked up the translation when we got home. We were there to see Blue October, a band that both Mike and I have a long history with.

We arrived in Lake Charles around 2pm, and went to check in to our room. The service at this hotel and casino was outstanding, I must admit. The lady behind the check in desk was very polite, and friendly, and made me feel like a guest in their hotel, not like I was inconveniencing them by making them clean a room for me. We went upstairs to our room, and found a beautiful room, done up in a slightly Western theme, straight down to these amazing chairs:

which for some reason really fascinated me and prompted me to take another picture, even closer, of the feet on the chair... did you catch those in the first picture?

Yeah... that's a hoof. I don't even like Western themed stuff, and I would SO put these in my house.

Anyhow, after checking in, we went down to the casino and contributed a little of our money to the economy of Louisiana, and then had some amazing Creme Brulee gelato in the dessert shop there. We met up with Mike's brother and his wife for the buffet dinner, which was somewhat of a letdown for me. The selection was not that great, and the food was very bland.

The advantage to being there was that while we were eating, 4 out of the 5 members of Blue October came in to eat their dinner, and we got a chance to say hello to a couple of them. It was really nice to see that they still remember us, even as big as they are getting.

After dinner, we hung out for a while until it was time for the show. It was a free concert by the pool in the casino, so there were TONS of people there, and only about 1/3 of them there to see a band. The band Ours opened, followed by Switchfoot, and then Blue. Mike and I found some comfy pool recliners around the other side of the pool to relax in and watch the show. As it turned out, we could see the projection screen perfectly from where we sat, and there was a cool breeze blowing there as well. The music was wonderful, and it was really good to see Blue in concert again (one of these days I will tell you about our history with Blue).

After the concert, we met back up with the family, and went to the cafe there and had some dinner, even though it was midnight. And then back to the room to crash!!

All in all, a really great trip, and a great time spent with family.

Oh, and here are a few other pictures I took...

The view from our window of the front entrance and fountain

A closer shot of the fountain

The beautiful golf course there on the grounds

I have a feeling we will be back there again...

Softly and Tenderly

2009-08-17T13:04:00.004-05:00

I started to cry yesterday during church.

This is not the post I wanted to write today. This is not a post that I was sure I was ever going to be able to write. I had funny stories of the weekend trip to see Blue October halfway composed in my head. I was going to tell you the history of my love of the band, or maybe even start the story of how I met Mike. I had a funny picture of an awesome chair from our hotel room that I was going to post for you. I was witty, funny, and anecdotal all at once.

And then I started to cry yesterday during church.

I am not even sure Mike knew I was crying. I was fighting to keep the tears back, but they welled up and threatened to pour over during the last song we sang.

I have quite the history with church and religion. It is part of the heritage my parents passed down to me, it is part of the fiber of who I am, it is very much a part of what makes me, ME.

I was raised in a strict conservative Christian household. We weren't allowed to wear pants until I was 14 years old, we didn't go trick-or-treating on Halloween, we didn't believe in the Easter bunny, or the tooth fairy, or Santa (even at a small age). We weren't allowed to watch Scooby Doo because the story lines dealt with ghosts and witches, taboo topics in our household. We went to church every time the doors were open, we said grace before each and every meal, we memorized Bible verses at a young age, I can still recite the books of the Bible in order, and I was the Bible drill champion of the church for several months.

But it was more than that, it was so much more. Christianity was woven into every fiber of our life. Our belief in God, our worship, our faith, it was more than this. I don't honestly know the right words to explain it to those that were not raised with such an all-encompassing faith, but it was more than a part of our lives. It WAS our lives. Every thing that we did, every thing that we touched, every word, every action, every song you sang or tv show you watched was expected to be held up to the measuring stick and it was expected to meet the criteria.

I don't know if everyone is affected the same way, but for me, this completely shaped the way I viewed my world, and the way I viewed myself. There were positives and negatives, of course. It gave me a sense of belonging to a community, a sense of safety in knowing, or thinking that I knew, everything was laid out for me. There is a sense of comfort in having a set of directions laid out for me that I can follow. There was a sense of knowing how I measured up. But therein lay part of the problem. I felt that I was being measured, constantly.

I remember in my early 20's, I was working in the youth group in a church in Arkansas. During our youth Bible study one week, the lesson was on "loving your neighbor as yourself", and the emphasis was on the fact that in order to love others, you have to love yourself. You have to accept yourself as the creation of God, and see how valuable you are. Anyhow, the preacher was going around the group, picking out random people and asking them if they liked themselves, and why or why not. I KNEW he was going to call on me, and I dreaded it. I didn't want to answer that question. Just as I predicted, he called on me, and asked me "Jennifer, do you like yourself?", and I started to cry. The great big gulping sobbing cry that becomes more embarrasing the longer it goes on. The cry where your whole face becomes red, and you can't breathe, and people are trying to comfort you, but it only makes it worse. I couldn't answer his question, I couldn't look at him, I couldn't speak. I just wanted to go away and fade. You see, at that moment I had a revelation. I realized something that I had never realized before.

I didn't like myself.

Why? Because I wasn't good enough. Because I could never be good enough.

Looking back, I think that was the turning point in my religious life. From that point forward, I couldn't find the comfort that I had known as a child. I couldn't find the peace and the knowledge that I belonged. Instead, I felt the condemnation. I felt that I couldn't meet the standards, I couldn't measure up, I failed. Slowly over time, I began to like myself less and less.

I left Arkansas and moved to Dallas on my own. I quit going to church, because it felt empty. Worse than that, it didn't feel empty, it felt full of reminders of how I was failing, how I was going to fail. I just couldnt take it anymore, the feeling that people were standing there in disapproval, with their checklists of the ways I was supposed to be, the things I was supposed to do, the words I was supposed to say. Their rules were smothering me. I had to walk away.

In the years between then and now, I have learned a lot about myself. Mike has helped me figure out a lot about myself. I learned that I need to have a faith of my own. It ISN'T always going to be the same as those that wear the title of Christian. I don't agree with all the teachings of ANY church. I can't go back to that church that I was raised in. I had to strike out and find out where I belonged. Most importantly, I needed to learn to like myself. And in order to do that, I had to learn to live on my own two feet. I had to make decisions for myself, instead of turning to the church for answers to every little facet of my life and personality. I became my own person, I became my own self. I learned who I was. In the process, I threw away some of the teachings of my childhood. I learned that it was okay to reject some of the teachings, and that it didn't mean I rejected it all. I learned to think through my faith and understand it, and not accept it blindly.

Mike and I have found a church that we love. We attend most Sundays, and I work at that same church. I am slowly but surely finding my way back to a faith that I can base my life on.

But the relationship is different. It will never be that all encompassing overwhelming ruler of judgement that I used to measure myself by. It can't be. I refuse to let it be. It is instead, now a tenative friendship that is forming. I can't commit to the life I used to live by. I don't want to be in that life. I am very happy in the life that I have found with Mike, and in the faith that we are growing together as a couple.

So why did I start to cry yesterday? We were singing "Softly and Tenderly" and it came to the chorus.... "come home, come home, you who are weary, come home"... and my heart broke... because I feel like I am coming home. I am finding my way back to a HEALTHY relationship with God, and just as importantly, a HEALTHY relationship with church. And because, in this one area of my life, I have been so weary for so long... I have been tired in my soul since I was a child. I kept trying and trying to be good enough, and I wasn't. And now? Now I am in a place where I am beginning to learn again that I can just let go.

I can let go, I can enjoy faith, I can relax and be happy. I am strong enough to remain ME without allowing doctrine to overrun the amazing person that I am already.

It is safe now for me to "come home".

Whirlwind

2009-08-13T10:48:00.002-05:00

I usually write to sort out the chaos that exists in my mind. But today, the chaos is preventing any real writing, any real cohesive thinking.

I leave at noon today for our trip out of town, and I cannot wait! I will try (please see the success, or lack thereof, in the previous attempt on Phantom weekend) to remember to get some pictures taken this weekend and posted here so that you can see a more recent picture of us.

I despise this feeling os scatterbrained-ness. I am the planner, the organizer, the thinker, and I don't like feeling like I can't pull it together and sort it out.

Apologies, my friends...

I will post more when we get back from our trip.

My New Toy

2009-08-12T09:37:00.004-05:00

Isn't it beautiful? I ordered this last night from B&H (http://www.bhphotovideo.com/), from their used department. It is a Canon EOS 2000 Rebel. It is a 35 mm film camera, comes with the lens you see here, lens cap, camera strap, and all for the low price of $119. I am a little wary generally of buying used equipment like this over the net, but B&H is a very reputable store, and they stand behind their sales. This is the same store that we got the Canon digital camera from, and I have heard nothing but good stuff about them from others that shop there as well. I also bought some batteries for it, and a cable release. A cable release is a cord that attaches to your camera and allows you to release the shutter without touching the actual camera. VERY important for long exposure shooting like astrophotography, because even the slightest touch to the camera with your finger can cause vibrations which will blur the picture. Anyhow, the camera and its accessories should be here next Wednesday (YAY!)

A special thanks to my photographer friend, Lauren, for helping me make my final decision. I knew what I was looking for, in general terms, but needed some help deciphering the techinical specs listed on the camera to make sure this would meet my needs.

I am currently poring over the book I linked yesterday to figure out the best film to use for the shots I want to start off with. I cannot say enough good about this book. Not only is it full of information, but the author includes hundreds of pictures as well, and under each picture, lists not only the f-stop and exposure time, but the type of camera and film that he was using for the shot. VERY helpful for the beginner, let me tell you.

Another thing I am excited about, another factor that helped me finalize my decision on the Rebel is that it is a Canon, and that is the same brand as my digital. My digital camera has the ability to change out lenses, and this means that any lenses I buy for the 35mm will also fit on the digital, a huge factor for me.

As you may have noticed, I am VERY excited about this. I believe this is a hobby that I can get into, I think this is something that I could be good at. I believe this is something I will enjoy, and I cannot wait to get started!

A very very special thank you to my wonderful husband for understanding my need to find a hobby that I enjoy, and for putting up with my rambling on and on about exposure times and film types. I love you, Mike!

Pancakes, Pictures, and Paraphernalia

2009-08-11T08:52:00.002-05:00

Mental paraphernalia, that is (and yes, I had to look that word up to get the spelling correct). I have a lot of random things to share with you today, so I am going to group them all together in this one post. This one, wonderfully aliterated-titled, post.

Last night, Mike and I wanted a snack, so I made up some pancakes. I realize this is not groundbreaking news, but you haven't had my pancakes. I make a really mean flapjack, my friends. I worked for two years at a Wendy's during the breakfast rush, and I know my pancakes. I make them big, light and fluffy, really cake-like. I am not a fan of the crepe. I smothered mine with strawberry jelly, and went to town. It was wonderful!

When I got home from work, this was waiting for me:

Mike bought it for me as a surprise, and it came in the mail yesterday. I had no idea it was on its way, so I was wonderfully surprised. I have an amazing husband, the kind that sees things that I would like, and loves to surprise me with them. And excited? you better believe it! I did a little bit of reading in it last night, and it gives all the information that you could possibly need, from how to take pictures without using a telescope, to what kind of film to use, what cameras work best, etc. And also exciting is the idea that I am going to be buying a "old-fashioned" camera at some point for astrophotography. Turns out that digital cameras dont have the exposure time, and the sensitivity to light that regular cameras do, so YAY! I will get to do some equipment shopping in the near future.

This Thursday I am taking off work at noon, and Mike and I (along with Mike's brother and his wife) will be headed to Louisiana to a casino there. Our main reason for going is to see Blue October in concert there (more about our history with Blue October in another post), but let me reassure you that we are planning on enjoying the buffet dinner, and planning to do a bit of gambling. I am really looking forward to this trip for a variety of reasons. It has been probably close to two years since we have seen Blue in concert. I have never stayed in a casino hotel room before (YAY!), and the buffet? Do I even need to go into my love of food, and what a buffet means to me? Most importantly, I am looking forward to a trip with Mike and our family.

My boss, the preacher, gets back from his family vacation on Thursday. They have been gone for three weeks now, and it has been really quiet around here. While that is nice for a while, I am looking forward to having them back and there being a little more life around this place.

I guess that is all for now, my friends. The clutter in the brain is cleared out, and I can focus on the work at hand.

I will leave you with this question though... what sorts of clutter do you find in your mind today?

Ich Habe Ein Kopfschmerzen

2009-08-10T13:15:00.002-05:00

5 years of German language classes from 8th-12th grades, a former near-mastery of the German language, and this is one of the only phrases that I easily recall. This is one of the only sentences that pops into my head automatically when the situation calls for it, and rightfully so, I guess.

Translation? I have a headache.

Boy do I ever. Not at this moment, exactly, but frequently and habitually.

I am a chronic headache sufferer. I occasionally suffer from a migraine, but they only hit me about 3-4 times a year. At least, that is how often I get the really bad, can't do anything but sleep, kinds of migraines. No, my chronic headaches aren't that severe. Migraines, severe migraines, are a life-stopping interruption of all that revolves around you in your life. Everything is forbidden, people understand, there is sympathy. Chronic headaches are a dull haze that shadows your life, but you still have to go on. You still have to work, and cook dinner, and drive to the bank, and function. People feel sorry for you if you have a headache, but they don't expect you to stop your life until it goes away. That is reserved for the migraine sufferers. Mike is a rare treat in that he always makes me stop and take my medicine and he understand when I can't function like I would like to, because of a pain inside my skull.

I have had headaches as far back as I can remember, and there has never been a definitive reason found for them. When I was really young, about 6 or so, I started getting them, and at that time, we thought it was because I have such long thick hair, and the weight of it was pulling on my scalp, creating pressure and giving me a headache. We stopped pulling my hair back in a high ponytail, and the headaches eased for a while. But they never really went away. When I was a teenager, the doctors said it was from hormonal changes, when I was a young adult, they thought perhaps allergies. Now, they don't have any answers anymore. It is just something I deal with.

What triggers them? Well, let's see.... certain smells, if the light is too bright, if I don't keep my glasses clean, if the music is too loud, they are worse in the fall and spring, they are worse if I pull my hair back tightly, they are worse when I don't get any caffeine, they are worse when I am stressed, they are worse when I get hormonal, they are worse if I dont get enough sleep, but they are also worse if I sleep too much, they are worse if I cry, or when I get a cold, or when I have been in a car too long, or, or, or... you get the idea.

How do I cope? I do just that, I cope. I am personal friends with Aleve. I try to get enough sleep, but not too much. I style my hair in the most relaxed way possible. I try to control my stress, etc. I take over the counter medicine that chases away the pain, and I pray that it won't come back for a while.

So to those of you out there who have chronic headaches, I understand. I really really do. I understand the half-closed eyelids and the sad smiles that say that you are coping. I understand the need to just sit and rest for a moment. Most of all, I understand that you want people to care when you quietly sigh and say once again "Ich habe ein kopfschmerzen".

Pathetic New Year

2009-08-07T14:18:00.002-05:00

I am an unashamed design show watcher. I love all of them, I watch DIY and HGTV and TLC and the random shows anywhere else I can find them. I admit, it's a guilty pleasure.

Did you know that once, many years ago, I almost enrolled in the Institute for Design in Dallas when I lived there? Only thing that stopped me was that the people I emailed for information never responded, and I got mad, and refused to pursue the issue further.

Anyhow, this is the story of how design shows equaled perhaps the most pathetic new year's eve and new year's day of my life. At the time, I was single and living in an apartment alone in Dallas. I was more than just single, I was extremely single, radically single. Single to the point of having no friends outside of work. Single to the point of getting off work on Friday, renting 6 movies at Blockbuster, and not setting foot outside my apartment door again until Monday morning, when I left for work. I was much more than single... I was alone.

New Year's Eve rolled around, and being as single as I was, I had no plans. I am not sure how I ended up watching Trading Spaces, but it was their New Year's marathon, which meant that they were showing them all that day, through the midnight celebrations and long into the next day. Somehow, I started watching them... and I kept watching them. I watched them through supper, and long into the night. I heard celebrations outside at midnight only because it was in between episodes. I fell asleep on the couch that night watching Trading Spaces with my cat. And when I woke up the next morning, I watched some more, until they started showing the same episodes that I had seen the night before. Then I turned off the TV, gathered up the cat, and went to my bed for a long nap.

Pretty sad, eh? I celebrated the end of the year, and the beginning of a fresh one on the couch, alone, watching design shows.

Wanna know something even worse?

The next year? When I was still in Dallas, still single, still alone? I actually PLANNED to spend my New Year's that way.

Fast forward to my life today. Mike and I rarely stay up to midnight to welcome in the new year. We generally fall asleep at our normal hour, and get up the next day to enjoy the start of a fresh year. This is how we prefer it. Because you know what? Awake or asleep, conscious or not, I am right where I want to be each New Year's Eve now. In the arms of the man who rescued that sad, sad girl off her lonely couch and gave her something to look forward to, something to really celebrate.

Hereditary Nerdity

2009-08-06T14:11:00.003-05:00

In the past couple days, my uncle Tim has started playing World of Warcraft with Mike and I. That is to say, he has been playing for several years, but he is starting to play on the same server as we do, and created a character to join our guild with. Last night, he set up his Ventrilo (a voiceover chat program that we use) and joined in the real life conversation.

As we signed off for the night, and took our headsets off (can you see the level of nerdiness that this post is going to contain?!), Mike said to me "your uncle sounds just like your dad, and they both sound so nerdy"

Now you have to understand one very important fact here. For Mike to call someone nerdy is a compliment of the highest order. It isn't an insult by any means. It means "this person understands our gaming obsessions" or "this person understands the inner workings of computers on my level" or even "this person can sit down and talk about the finer variances of comic book heroes and villians". It means, in short, that this person is one of us. They are someone that Mike and I would CHOOSE to start a conversation with.

My response to Mike's comment about my uncle sounding nerdy was to say "see! I told you before that I come from a long line of nerds".

I come by my nerdiness honestly. My father has been a war gamer my whole life. I was raised in a strict religious household, and yet, was taught that Dungeons and Dragons was a good thing. It was the people that took it too far sometimes, not the game itself being evil. I was raised to appreciate a healthy imagination, the ability to put yourself in the role of a character. I was taught to understand the intricacies of which stats would affect your toon in which ways. My father is one of 5 brothers (one of which is Tim), and all of them share this same love of not only gaming, but knowledge in general.

So you see my friends, I am afraid I had no choice but to accept the nerdiness in life. This is something I cherish, something I am proud of. It is a foundation of my relationship with Mike, as well. We can sit down at a quiet restaurant, he will reach across the table and hold my hand, and we will proceed to discuss the ins and outs of the previous weekend's raids.

So where was I going with this post again?

Ah yeah, hereditary nerdity. I am proud of my heritage of geekiness. I am proud of the fact that I am a nerd. And I am proud of the fact that my husband finds my nerdiness sexy.

"Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one."

~Bill Gates

Never Stop Holding Hands

2009-08-05T13:59:00.002-05:00

Sunday morning, as I sat in church next to Mike, he reached over and took my hand.

This is not a news flash of epic proportions.
This is not an unusual occurence.
This is not an action that shocked me.

This is the type of love that Mike and I share. We hold hands in church. He puts his hand on my leg as he is driving down the road. He puts his arm around me in the movie theater. We touch, we are reassured by the touch of the one we love. We yearn for, and thrive off of, that simple touch.

I can remember when I was a child, sitting in the back seat of the family car, and seeing my dad and mom holding hands in the front seat as we drove down the road. I can remember the kids teasing them, and one of my siblings threatening to write a book called "Hanky Panky in the Front Seat". I remember the feeling of security that I felt when I saw that joining of hands, that intertwining of fingers. The world was okay, we would be safe, our family would be secure, because Mom and Dad were holding hands. I have wondered from time to time how long prior to their divorce did they stop holding hands?

I also remember my father telling me when I saw a teenager that if you wanted your marriage to last, if you want to make sure you don't ever "fall out of love", that you have to work on it, that it takes a committment, that you have to hold onto that love with tenacity.

"Most importantly", he told me, "never stop holding hands".

It went far beyond the simple act of holding hands. He was telling me to always be the one to reach out to your husband or wife, always be willing to be there, communicate your feelings in a touch. But he was also telling me to never lose the magic of that simple communication. Never get so busy in your life that you neglect to enjoy the simple moments. There is no wealth, no house, no toys, that are worth sacrificing the surreal peace that can be found in a pair of clasped hands.

There is a magic in Mike's touch. In the greatest times of stress in my life, I have been able to escape away from it all into the grip of his hand on mine. The rest of the world can fade away until it is only his hand in mine. I know that I will be safe, I will be protected, I will be loved and cherished, and all this is communicated through my husband reaching out his hand and taking hold of mine.

Quiet Afternoon

2009-08-04T14:11:00.002-05:00

It's very quiet here this afternoon... very quiet. I don't know what to do with myself when the days get this slow and silent. Time seems to stop moving altogether, and the hours creep by as I await my time to be able to head home to Mike.

I don't deal well with the quiet. I thrive in the hustle and bustle of life, with moments of quiet thrown in here and there, but too much is a bad thing. My mind starts to work in overdrive, and too much introspection (is that even a word) is not good. It strips away the bubbly happy person that I am, and leaves me moody and feeling isolated.

I think maybe I am more of a people person than I ever realized before.

The Weekend, the food, the fun, the family... but mostly the food

2009-08-03T08:21:00.002-05:00

I don't know about the rest of you, but I had a wonderful weekend! Let's do a little bit of recap, shall we?

~Friday.
I got off work at 12, as I always do on Fridays, and I went and got my hair trimmed. Possibly the only part of the weekend that I DIDN'T enjoy. I know most women see the hair salon as a form of pampering themselves, but to me, it is a torture session, every time. While others find it relaxing to lie back in the chair and have someone wash your hair for you, I find it to be condemning. I always feel as though the stylist is washing my hair thinking "this girl does NOT get her scalp clean enough" or "lord, look at the damage that this girl is doing to her hair". And the funny thing is, I take pretty good care of my hair, I don't color it, I rarely blow dry it, but still I find this part of the hair cutting process to be a pronouncement of judgement on my ability to groom myself. Then the actual cutting process.... this involves me standing up behind the chair so that the stylist can trim my hair, because my hair is long enough now that it can't be trimmed while I am sitting down. So yeah, not a pleasant experience, but it needed to be done, and now it is done and out of the way.
After the hair cut, I picked Mike up and we went out to lunch with some friends. The kinds of friends that don't put on airs, they are who they are. And who they are happens to be the simple country folk that believe in honesty and in good times and good food with friends. We had lunch at a little Italian/Mexican restaurant here in our small town, and the food was fantastic, as was the company. I had some supreme nachos that lived up to their name, and sent me home with a belly full of goodness.
Friday evening was full of lounging around the house, playing some World of Warcraft, having a few drinks, and relaxing with my husband.

~Saturday
We had nothing on our agenda at all for Saturday, and that is just the perfect way to spend the day. We lounged around the house, played some Xbox, played some World of Warcraft, and then lounged around some more. In the afternoon, Mike's parents called to find out if we wanted to go to dinner with them (duh!), so that evening, we headed out to Novrozsky's, and Mike and I had a chicken fried steak baked potato. Can I just say YUM! They cut up a chicken fried steak, put it in the baked potato, cover it with the gravy, and top it with cheddar cheese. It is divine, wonderful, and great, all wrapped into one.

~Sunday
We slept in a little later than usual on Sunday morning, and then got up to go to church. After the church service, we went over to his parent's house where his mom had made some homemade chicken gumbo. Dee's gumbo is the reason neither of us will ever order gumbo in a restaurant. It CANNOT be better or even as good as the heaven in a bowl that she serves up. And one of the best things is that we really get along with his parents, and we enjoy sitting around talking to them, so meals never feel like a rushed uncomfortable affair. Good times, good food.
More relaxing was on the schedule for the afternoon, more nerdy games, and then dinner time! For dinner, I pulled out all the stops and made fried chicken, mashed taters, gravy, and rolls. Was I stuffed to the gills after dinner? You betcha! Is that a meal that is worth the time and effort to make? You betcha!

So there you have my weekend in review. Lots of good times relaxing with Mike, lots of good food, and good times with friends. Everything a weekend should be. Everything I needed this one to be.

Not to Be Forgotten

2009-07-31T10:31:00.002-05:00

Mike and I were woken up in the middle of the night by a huge thunderstorm. Loud crashing thunder that sounded like the trees outside our house were cracking in half. Mike said this morning that it sounded like the world was exploding. Brilliantly bright flashes of lightning lighting up the whole world outside our window. Thunder and Lightning were not happy that I wrote a nice post about Rain yesterday and neglected to mention them. They were very flashy and vocal in showing their disapproval.

The thing is, I don't LIKE Thunder and Lightning. They don't convey the emotions that I talked about yesterday, they just scare me. They are too big, too bright, too uncontrollable and unpredictable. They are all the controversy in life that I seek to avoid. They make me feel small and childlike.

So this morning, when I woke up to the sound of the world crashing down around our ears, I do what I always try to do during middle of the night storms, I went right back to sleep and tried to just avoid the whole situation.

Sorry Thunder, sorry Lightning. You are magnificent and spectacular, but you will never be my friends.

Afternoon Showers

2009-07-30T14:13:00.003-05:00

It has been raining a lot here lately, something that is always a blessing in Southeast Texas in July. I know that for a lot of people, rain is a depressing thing, that their moods darken as the clouds cover the sky, but for me, it has always been a peaceful feeling, watching the rain coming down. I am a huge fan of sitting on the porch watching the storms, or even the gentle showers. Rain is emotional for me... what I mean is that I almost feel as though the rain is conveying nature's feelings to me. A soft gentle afternoon shower reminds me of a soft piece of piano music, a lover's dance, a mother's lullaby. The heavier rains remind me of heartbreak, flashing anger, the tumult of pain, and yet... a cleansing. As if after the heavy downpours, the heart has been cleansed, the slate wiped clean, a new beginning is at hand.

I love the way the world looks just before a storm, too. The clouds pour in, and everything takes on a hushed tone. A hushed, but yet frenzied tone, as if the world is rushing to get that last bit of activity in before the showers begin. The colors become soft and muted, the wind picking up and refreshing the air. It is the hustle and bustle of the theater as people get settled before the play begins.

Do I tend to romanticize things just a wee bit? You betcha, that is just part of who I am. I like to see things in the story, in the emotion, in the romance. Sure I understand that life brings hardships and pain, I understand that there are people out there struggling with a variety of circumstances and emotions. But just for a moment, right as the first few fat drops splat on the sidewalk, I can let myself believe that the rain will come and wash it all away and that we can have a fresh start on the day.

Blank Pages

2009-07-29T14:01:00.002-05:00

One of the most difficult things I have found about writing a bl0g is that I don't always have something deep and profound to write about. I don't always have an interesting antecdote, I don't always have a witty observation, and I am not yet to the point where I can just post a pretty photo essay and call that a post. My mind isn't always in the deep and profound mood, and you know what? That's okay.

I apologize if the occasional post comes up empty and unfulfilling. I am trying to get myself in the discipline of writing something every day, at least a little something, and I honestly believe that the more I write, the more I will find to write about. That has always been the case in the past.

So bear with me for a couple of the boring ones.

As you might have guessed, there isn't much going on right now. Last weekend's trip to the show is over, the recaps have been posted, and Mike and I are planning a quiet weekend at home this time. I need those weekends though, they are soothing to me. A whole weekend of nothing but sitting around the house, playing our games, and getting out to church on Sunday. Those weekends of relaxation give me the strength to make it through the week that follows. Those are the weekends that I am glad that we don't have kids yet. Kids, I have heard, interfere with your ability to be selfish and take time for yourself.

Don't get me wrong, we very much want kids someday. We both love them and would love to have one of our own. But in the meantime, until that time comes, we are not above thoroughly enjoying every selfish moment we have as a couple. We are very much in love, and content with a world that revolves around just the two of us.

I guess that is what the weekend represents to me. A retreat from the world. A time when we can close our doors, and close out the outside world. We can pretend that nothing exists except the two of us, even if it is just for a day or two.

I love those days.

A Few More Thoughts...

2009-07-28T15:14:00.003-05:00

Here's a few more thoughts from the weekend trip to Houston...

~Thai food is wonderful! After the show we went to the Pad Thai restaurant in downtown Houston, and due to the early hour we arrived, we had the entire place to ourselves, which was good, because they were gearing up for a party later that night. We had the chicken sa-tay appetizers with entrees of chicken and pork pad thai. The flavors were so rich and wonderful, and very difficult to describe. It is a definite must-have-again.

~To the grandma with the Fran Drescher voice sitting behind me during the musical: shut up. Didn't anyone ever teach you that making critical comments during the performance is rude? Even if you are complimenting the talent of the actors and dancers, don't mess up the magic with your droning voice making comments like "that was a perfect note" during the closing notes of a very passionate moment on stage. And I realize you are probably hard of hearing, and don't know how loud you are really speaking, but please.... shut up.

~There is a such thing as appropriate dress for these occasions. Now obviously, with this being a matinee performance, I didn't expect tuxes and evening gowns, but dress nicely, people, please. It is a sign of respect for the quality of show that you are about to see. This is an afternoon at a Broadway musical, not a quick trip down to Wal-Mart to pick up some flea dip for your dog. Things I saw people wearing that really bothered me (and Mike can testify that I am not making this up):

Flip flops. Yes, seriously, flip flops. When did society get the idea that flip flops are suddenly acceptable footwear for a dress up occasion such as this? And I don't care if they are made of leather, plastic, or foam... I don't care if you cover them with rhinestones, butterflies, and unicorns... they are still a flip flop. Now I don't know about you, but in my family, flip flops were perfectly good attire for mowing the lawn, wearing around the house, or the aforementioned trip to Wal-Mart (if you couldnt find your shoes), they were NOT something that you wear to a Broadway show.
A button-up Harley Davidson shirt, made of denim, on a woman. I know we live in Texas, I know this... but seriously? How redneck do you have to be?
Shorts. Enough said.
Jeans. Now let me start with saying that we live in Southeast Texas, and around here, I KNOW that for some guys, putting a nice long sleeve button down shirt with a pair of clean jeans and some cowboy boots is about as dressed up as you are gonna get. I understand this, and for that reason, I just smile at the man with the Texas flag shirt, jeans, and boots, because I know that he put forth the effort to actually dress nicely. This IS goin'-to-the-theater duds for him. But women.... women.... don't wear jeans to an event like this please? Please?

So there you have it... my weekend in review. Over all, it was a great great weekend, and there were a lot of things that I thoroughly enjoyed. Traffic was very light in Houston, which is a rare thing indeed, and we made really good time travelling back and forth. The show was spectacular, and I could not have asked for a better performance. And I got to spend a lot of time with my husband, and that is always a good thing.

Now I can begin the countdown to going to Lake Charles to see Blue October in two weeks!!

Music of the Night

2009-07-27T13:01:00.002-05:00

I am sure you are waiting on the edges of your seats to hear about our trip to see the Phantom. It was, in one word, amazing. I will be posting throughout the week about some of the other events of this weekend, including our wonderful lunch at the Thai place, but I really wanted to devote this entry to just talking about the play itself...

We arrived in Houston a little early (about an hour before the show started), so we went ahead and went to the Hobby Center for Performing Arts. We pulled up to find that they had valet parking for a reasonable price, and since parking in downtown Houston can be quite the challenge, we opted for this. We went inside to find a place to sit until they opened the doors, and then 30 minutes before the show was to start, they let us in, gave us our playbill, and we went and found our seats. The seats we had were pretty good, although we were on the outer seats at the edge of the auditorium, so there were a few spots in the musical when we could not see the actors on the edge of the scenes.

The Phantom began, and I was immediately drawn in under its spell. This was a production by Broadway Across America, so I expected the people to be able to sing, but wow... I don't think I was prepared for the quality and richness of their voices. They really brought the story to life with a passion and perfection that I was in awe of. And I could not say enough about the set. The entire facade of the stage was part of their set... the chandelier that hung out over the audience was part of their set... the amazing effect of the fog that rolled off the stage during the water scenes... I was in awe of the time and money that obviously went into making the scene perfect.

And I am not ashamed to admit... I teared up at the end. The actor playing the Phantom was nothing short of phenomenal. I knew how the story ended, I wasn't expecting a happy ending for the Phantom, but I also wasn't expecting to have my heart ache for his character like I did. I wasn't expecting tears in my eyes... that is how good this actor was. I really FELT how sad and lonely the Phantom was, how heartbroken. And as the curtain came down, and the actors came out on stage to take their bows, my eyes teared up again. I didn't want this to be over. I didn't want the magic that they were weaving to end.

I know without a doubt that Mike and I are going to be back there for more musicals now that we have gotten a taste of what the full experience is like. But I also know that no other musical will have that special magical quality that I felt that day. Because, you see, that was the first time I had felt like that. I grew up on musicals, I have seen the movie versions of most of them, and I love them. I have a passion in my heart for them, but this was different. I am sure I will love each and every one that we go to see in the future, but this was more than that... this was the magic of a first time experience combined with the magic of the story itself.

There is something so incredibly magical about that ability they have to whisk me away into their world. I didn't watch it thinking "wow, that is a pretty dress that actress has on"... I watched it thinking "wow, that is a pretty dress that Christine is wearing", as if the characters were real people. And for a few hours there, they were.

The Countdown Continues

2009-07-24T16:55:00.002-05:00

I swear I am going to make y'all sick of hearing about this, but I just cannot wait until we go to Houston tomorrow to see the Phantom. We are getting dressed up in fancy clothes (something we don't really do all that often), going to a professional musical (something we have never done) and finishing off the evening with some food at a Thai restaurant (something I have never done). It should be a real treat out for us.

Today was a really rough day, all around. Work was hellish (which I guess is an odd thing to say about working in a church), and I ended up staying an hour late. Then, we got the pleasure of going to Wal-Mart, where every rude person in our town was shopping today. The kind that leave their shopping baskets all crooked in the aisle, so that nobody can pass them. The kind that frantically speed around you so they can get to the eggs first, and then stand there for ages trying to find the perfect dozen (reminiscent of the man from Clerks). So by the time we got out of there, and finally got home, I was worn out completely. It felt so good to kick back on the bed, take off my shoes, and play some nerdy games.

A bonus for tonight though! Mike is cooking dinner and making his chicken and rice dish, which is to-die-for! I can smell it cooking right now, and I am ready to get my chow on!

If I can remember to take the camera, I will try to grab some shots of the theater, and maybe you will get lucky and I will take a picture of me and Mike (although we will most likely forget, since that tends to be our current track record).

See y'all on Monday!

The Phantom

2009-07-23T11:04:00.002-05:00

Mike and I are going to see the Phantom of the Opera this weekend, and I am giddy like a school girl!

I have never been to see a professional production of a musical, and it has been something that has been on my to-do list for years and years now. Mike and I share an appreciation of musicals and will regularly stop the channel-flipping on the tv if we see that OMG Grease is on again, or Oklahoma!, we haven't seen that in weeks! But one thing we have never done is go to a musical together, so I am looking forward to this.

Our original plan was to drive to Houston on Saturday, check into a posh hotel, order some room service, and then dress up in fancy clothes and go to the show. In a moment of my usual "we are going to do something fun this weekend so I should stress about the details until we are actually there in our seats and the show has started" moments, I thought last night to check the tickets to see what time the show is at. 2pm. Yep, that's right, 2pm.

Okay, so revision of plans... we talked briefly about dressing up at home, driving straight to the show, and then going to the hotel afterwards. But... well... see... living just two hours away from Houston means that suddenly that doesn't make much sense. It makes staying in a hotel overnight seem kinda silly, and an unwanted expense. I mean, we will be out of the show at 5ish, so why not use that hotel money on a fancy dinner and then come home to the comfort of our own house, with our own nerdity options at our fingertips? So that is what the new plan is, dress up at home, drive to Houston, go to the show (which I will still be stressing about the details of until we are in our seats and the show has started), get a nice dinner, and then come home.

It sounds so much less complicated than it was going to be originally. Now we have no packing, no overnight bags, just a nice road trip with my husband. Doesn't get much better than that.

Capture

2009-07-22T13:15:00.002-05:00

I just wanna take purdy piktures!

I have known for a long time that I have the eye of a photographer. I SEE the pictures in the world around me that are just waiting to be captured. I see the gorgeous colors in the sunset, I see the brilliant blue of that bug, I see the adorable way our cat is curled up on my chest.

I have the heart of a photographer too, I think. When my eye captures these pictures in the world, my heart feels what is behind that image. I "hear the symphony in the sunset" as a friend once told me. I want to grab that beauty and capture it and show the world that "SEE! this is the amazing world around me that I see"

I have the camera of a photographer. I don't know exactly the model and all the specs, but I know that is has the capability to capture the pictures I want. Yes, I need more lenses and accesories for it, yes, I need to figure out its features, but it is an amazing camera.

What I do NOT have is the skill of a photographer. I have a basic understanding of aperture, shutter speed, ISO, etc, but I don't know how to translate that into a good picture. I don't know how to make my camera see the masterpiece that I see. How do I make it translate into a shot that everyone will see, and they will understand what I was feeling when I saw that in real life?

Now I KNOW that Photoshop was a huge tool (heh, tool) in making pictures turn out as beautifully as I see them on some of the blogs and websites I visit. I know it can fine tune the shot to bring out the best in the picture. I plan on getting this software, believe me.

But I also know that you need a good picture first. A good angle, a good exposure, etc.

What I really want, I guess, would be someone to follow me around for a while and tell me that in this situation, if you want to capture that sunset, you need to have your aperture at X and your shutter at X, etc. I need a personal tutor so that I can figure it all out. That isn't too much to ask, now is it?

And while we are at it, I would like to have a personal chauffeur so that I don't have to drive anymore. And a personal maid to clean my house and wash my dishes. Oh! Oh! and a personal chef so that Mike and I don't have to cook anymore... hmm... let me see... I guess that means I need to get to work on winning that lottery (yeah, the one we never, ever buy tickets for).

In other news, our addiction to Fable 2 still goes on strong. We play it in shifts, we stop for meals, and of course sleep, but that is about it. And while it may seem bizarre to you, it makes complete sense for me that I recieve IMs from Mike telling me that "my wife just left me again". Yes, we have a gaming addiction. No, we do not plan to seek help for it. We plan to continue on, each of us being an enabler for the other.

Now if I could just figure out the personal "someone to do all the things in life that I don't like doing" dilemma....

Family

2009-07-21T11:06:00.002-05:00

Family is a tough topic for me to discuss. In part, because when I was growing up, we were always taught that you keep family issues private. You can be angry or upset with your family, but you NEVER tell others about it.

One of the things I have determined when I started this blog was that I wouldn't dredge up past memories, I wouldn't tell the stories about things that have gone on in my family, and the reasons for the strained or broken relationships that have occurred along the way. And I won't. I stick by that rule. But speaking in generalities, there are some important things I have learned about "family", and important revelations that have changed my concept of what that word means.

~Just because someone is related to you does NOT mean that they are family. There are relationships in life that do more harm than good, and unfortunately, sometimes those relationships are to people that you share a common blood with. One of the toughest, and yet the most important, things that I have learned over the years is that it is okay to walk away from those situations. It doesn't make you a horrible person, it doesn't make you less of a human being. It makes you someone that is seeking healthy relationships. Now don't get me wrong, I will always be there for my relatives if they are in emergency situations. I won't stay away from the bedside of one that is really sick or dying just to prove a point. But I have learned that I don't need to have a day-to-day relationship with them just because we came from the same gene pool. It's okay to walk away.

~Family, a real family, does not have to be born into, it can be chosen. This is something that Mike and his family have taught me over the years that we have been together. Mike is my family. He is my world. His parents and his brother are part of that world, and an important part. They don't act like I am one of their own, I AM one of their own. They don't treat me like a polite friend, I am one of the clan. I get picked on, teased, cared about, and remembered as one of the kids. They chose me to be their daughter, they chose me to be their sister, every bit as much as Mike chose me to be his wife, and I will never forget that.

~Some relationships are stronger than time or circumstance. Some relationships can be repaired over time. I have sisters that I keep in touch with, cousins that I am close to even after a lot of time passes, aunts and uncles that care about me, a grandmother that still sends me a birthday card in the mail every year, and a father that I am rebuilding a relationship with. Not every break in family relationships is permanent, although some are.

~My husband. Until I met Mike, I didn't really understand how the concept of family can be all wrapped up in one person. To me, family was a bunch of people that you had blood ties to, people that cared about each other, people with faults. But in my husband, I am complete. I know that sounds like a cheesy line, and I don't mean it to be. I don't mean to say that I don't need other people in life. But at the same time, the only person I NEED to be happy in my life is my husband. He is my all, my everything. This brings to mind the story of our engagement and wedding, which I will post in greater detail in another entry. But the important thing was, when we were engaged, and we were planning the wedding, and we would face another detail of "do we want to do it this way or that way", we would say to each other "it's not really important, as long as you are there, that's all that matters".

And you know what? That is still true to this day. Life is a complicated mess of ups and downs, relationships grow and fail, people come and go, we face struggles, and we celebrate the good times (of which I am blessed to have many). But in the end, at the end of each day, I can snuggle up to my sweetheart, and say "it's not really important, as long as you are there, that's all that matters".

Cleaning out the Clutter

2009-07-20T09:12:00.002-05:00

My mind is a jumble this morning so I thought I would just let y'all know a few things about our life, and our weekend, and other randomness that is running laps inside my brain right now.

~We had a thunderstorm this weekend. It wasn't that bad of a storm, and the rain was much needed, but the power got knocked out. Now as a rational person, I know that the power will be restored in a couple of hours, but let me let you in on a little secret of mine. Having lived here in Southeast Texas through two hurricanes and their aftermath, my brain really doesn't believe the power is coming back on any time soon. The lights go out, and I go into the "oh my god, how am I going to survive for a week or more without electricity" mode. I start thinking of how boring life is without power. I start dreading going to bed that night because it will be so hot, and we won't have AC and I don't sleep well in the heat. I am a fruit loop, what can I say. Oh, and the power came back on about 2 hours later.

~Mike and I bought an Xbox 360 in the last couple of weeks. Let me just say that Fable 2 is way more fun than a game has a right to be. We actually take shifts on who gets to play, and most of the time, when he is playing, I am laying there on the bed watching him play. It is insanely fun, and although I know that we will eventually tire of it, it satisfies our nerdity for the time being.

~Across the Universe was on Encore this weekend, and we caught the second half of it. We had seen this movie in the theaters, and I already knew that I loved it, but I was struck again by the genius of the movie. Also, I spent half the night with one of the songs running through my head, even in my dreams, and that does not make for peaceful sleep.

~As I mentioned, my sleep was troubled last night, not by anything specific, but just frequent wake-ups, songs running through my head, odd dreams, a crazy cat running around inside our house, and the inability to get comfortable. All of these combined make me even more of a "not-a-morning-person" than I usually am.

~I am very blessed to have a husband that wants nothing more on the weekends than to just hang around the house with me, relaxing.

Because I am Stubborn That Way

2009-07-17T08:38:00.004-05:00

Alternative Title: The reasons I won't watch Harry Potter

Our local movie theater, like all the smart movie theaters across the nation, is showing the latest Harry Potter movie, or as I like to call it "Harry Potter and the reason I won't go to your theater for a month"

You see, the thing is, the truth of the matter.... I refuse to watch Harry Potter movies. Now don't get me wrong, I really have nothing against the whole Harry Potter franchise. I think it is probably a great story line for many to follow, and I have in fact read the first book, and thought it was pretty good. But the truth is, something that not a lot of people know about me, is that the more people tell me that I WILL like something, the more stubbornly I refuse to give it a chance. There is this little switch in me that gets flipped when someone raves on and on about something.

Actually, that isn't entirely accurate. It isn't just when one person, or a few people tell me about something I will like. If they are my friends or close family, and they suggest something for me to watch, chances are I will watch it, and chances are, I will like it. But when society insists that something is the greatest thing ever, when all the raving crowds go on and on about "oh my god, this is the best movie ever, you HAVE to see it", that stubborn troll inside of me says "no, no I don't. I don't HAVE to see it, and in fact, I now refuse to see it".

This is the reason I won't read or watch anything involving Twilight.
This is the reason I won't read or watch Harry Potter.
This is the reason I didn't really like the movie Knocked Up. (other than the fact that it just wasn't funny)
This is the reason I don't watch Lost.
This is the reason I don't watch reality shows.
This is the reason I haven't seen any of the High School Musicals.
This is the reason I refuse to get wrapped up in a lot of the fads today.

That person inside me just stomps her foot and says "you can't make me", and that's the end of it. I don't like being told what I WILL or WILL NOT like, as if it is dictated by society's laws that this is the next greatest biggest thing, and if I don't jump right on that bandwagon, I am some sort of freak. I am a freak for a lot of reasons, my friend, but demanding the right to make up my own mind about something is not one of them.

I am tired of "trendy" movies. I am an adult and I want to be able to go make my own decision. I have never been a critic believer, I will be the one to decide whether I like something or not. I guess it all boils down to the whole "you are not the boss of me" philosophy of life.

Oh, and one other word about Twilight. They are teeny bopper books, and it really REALLY bugs me when grown women are falling all over these characters. No, I won't read them, I refuse.

I read grown up books.

And some of you who know me (or think you know me) are saying to me right now "this is coming from the woman who loves vampire stories, the woman who had read all of Anne Rice's vampire chronicles, the woman who actually read Dracula, YOU won't read a vampire series". Well.... to those people, I have just one thing to say... if you actually just said that I should put Twilight in the same category as Anne Rice and Dracula... well then you don't really know anything about me, now do you?

Almost There

2009-07-16T08:34:00.003-05:00

I am really tired this morning, and a little unsure as to what to talk about, so this may end up quite the rambling post.

I am really glad today is Thursday, because I only work half days on Fridays, so that means that today is my last full day of work before I can head into tomorrow's half day, and then on to the weekend to relax. With the visit from Dad and the Bible study class last night, and the millions of things that we did last weekend, this will be the first time in a couple of weeks that we have to just sit around and relax. Our plans for this weekend include nothing, nothing, and more glorious nothing. I can't even tell you how much I need that break.

Actually, we do have a little bit of a plan to take out the telescope and do some star gazing. I got Mike a very nice new telescope this year for his birthday, and I think we have discovered the right spot to go look at stars, out away from the town where there are no street lights. Of course, as we always do with our hobbies, the purchase of the telescope will mean that we need to make several more purchases to get it the way we want it. We need new lenses with better magnification, we need to study up more on the telescope itself to learn more about how to target it, and did I mention that this telescope has a camera mount?

Oh yeah, it has a place on the body of the telescope that you can mount your camera, and then you can buy an attachment that lets your camera focus through the viewfinder on the telescope, and you can take pictures of the skies. I have an obsession with photography anyhow (a whole post of its own), and would love nothing more than to know how to take really good pictures... and the thought of being able to be an astrophotographer? Out of this world (no pun intended).

But other than a possible excursion out to view the stars (does it get more romantic than stargazing with the love of your life?), our weekend plans consist of sitting around, watching tv, playing our nerdy games (including our brand new Xbox 360!!), and having some drinks.

All in all, I cannot wait. I am counting down the hours, and working frantically here at the church to get everything taken care of. Uninterrupted time with my husband is a very precious thing indeed.

Tired

2009-07-15T11:41:00.001-05:00

I am tired of people letting me down.

And I am tired of feeling let down by people.

The Visit

2009-07-15T10:00:00.004-05:00

Well, the short version is that the visit with my father went really well yesterday... stay tuned for the longer version...

My dad was supposed to meet me here at the church I work at around 4pm yesterday, and I was going to take the rest of the afternoon off. Much to my surprise, I arrived back from lunch at 1pm to find my father already here, sitting in the preacher's office chatting it up with my boss! (EEK!). I work for a really cool preacher, and he told me to go ahead and take the rest of the day off and spend some time with my dad, so that is what took place. I took a few minutes to show him around the church, because we have a really old beautiful church building with amazing stained glass windows that he wanted to see.

After a brief tour of the church, we loaded up in our cars and he followed me to the house. He was staying the night in Mike's parents' guest room, and the plan was to go straight to their house and hang out there and get a chance to talk.

All in all, it was a really good visit. It gave us a chance to start to get to know each other better, and gave Mike a chance to really get to know my dad. There were only a few awkward pauses in conversation. God bless Mike's parents too, for putting him up in their guest room, and for cooking an amazing meal for us all to enjoy.

He had to get back on the road this morning at 2am, so he went to bed about 8 last night.

My mind and heart are a lot calmer now. I didn't really expect it to go badly, but I did think that there would be more awkwardness than we ended up having. For that I am very grateful.

This gives me a lot of hope that there is a lasting relationship in our future.

Carnival Chaos

2009-07-14T08:24:00.003-05:00

My dad arrives tonight, and I am a bundle of nerves. My stomach is in knots, and I am at my most scatter-brained.

I took a sleeping pill last night to help me get to sleep, because I know my mind, and there is no way it was going to let me fall asleep unaided. The inside of my mind, at times, resembles a state fair, with all the people milling about, and the rides, and the noises. Actually, it may be more along the lines of a good old-fashioned carnival with the ticket sellers barking out their lines to get you to "come over here and look at the bearded lady" or "cricket man is alive!". So what I am saying is that sometimes, I can't shut the carnival down for the night. It is determined to make itself an all night event, with the wheels turning and the people milling and the barkers barking. This is where the occasional sleeping pill comes in very handy. I won't say that it shuts down the carnival, but what it DOES do is allow me to sleep even with the ruckus of the carnival in full force.

The downside is that the next day, it takes me almost half the day to get up and running without feeling like my best course of action would be to go over there in that corner and lay down on the carpet and rest my eyes for a few minutes. I am a groggy mess this morning, with the only positive side effect being that the grogginess drowns out some of the carnival music. It is a lovely haze at times.

I know that Mike is nervous too. He has only met my father once, in that ICU room, and that was five years ago. But what I am eternally grateful for is that my husband is the one person in this world that can smile at me and tell me that tonight is going to be okay, that we are going to have fun, and I believe him.

This, I believe, is the real power of love. That special someone, that love of your life, is the person that has the power to do what nobody else can. They can smile at you, and tell you that they understand, that they are there for you, and that everything is going to be okay, and you believe them. Or even if you don't believe that the situation will get better, you DO believe that you can make it through as long as they are with you.

As long as he is with me...

All Grown Up

2009-07-13T09:02:00.003-05:00

My father is coming to visit tomorrow night, and I am worried.

I haven't seen my father in 5 years. The last memory I have of him is in the ICU when he had his first heart attack. Mike and I (we had been together just a few months at this point) drove all night to Arkansas to see him, because we didnt think he was going to make it. I remember arriving at the ICU and going in to see my dad, and being scared because he looked so frail. I remember a few words that he spoke that meant a lot to me. I remember him looking at Mike and telling him to "please take care of my little girl" and Mike assuring him that he would.

A lot had happened before that visit to the ICU, things that I won't dig back up for public viewing, but things that had forever altered our relationship as father and daughter. More has happened since that visit. My mom and dad got a divorce after almost 40 years of marriage. My father moved to Arizona to live near one of my sisters. Most importantly, my father and I started talking again. Slowly, over time we are rebuilding a tenative foundation of a relationship.

Do you remember when you were a kid and relationships were easy? You either liked somebody, or you didn't. And it was okay if you hated them one day, and then they were your best friend the next. Adult relationships are not that simple, now are they? The older I get, the more I see relationships like a tide in the ocean. Sometimes the tide is high, and the relationships are strong, and then the tide goes out, and there is strain.

I am looking forward to seeing my dad, make no mistake about it. I miss the closeness that we used to have, once upon a time. And part of me is sad to know that I will never really be able to go back to that point. We are two adults now, and this is tricky ground, learning to have an adult relationship with my father.

The truth of my life is that I am very happy. I am very blessed. I am very loved. I am very content. And I guess what it all boils down to, is that in my father's visit tomorrow night, I want him to see that. I want him to see the wonderful husband I have, and how incredibly blessed I am in our marriage. I want him to get to know the wonderful in-laws that adopted me as one of their own when I had very little family to rely on. I want him to know that his little girl is all grown up now with a happy family of her own.

Why write a blog?

2009-07-10T08:13:00.000-05:00

Why create a blog?

This is a question that I have been mulling over in my head for a couple weeks now. I guess the answer to it would be just to say... because I need to say stuff and I want a convenient place to say this stuff. I contemplated writing it down in a journal but most of my best thoughts come at random moments when that written journal is not handy. And in today's world, in my world, a computer is never very far away.

I needed to write. I need to write. I have conversations with myself all day long. I see a news story, and I comment to myself about my feelings on the subject. Make no mistake about it, I also talk these thoughts over with Mike, but sometimes they still go round and round inside my head, as if they are waiting for me to grab them with both hands, and put them down on paper (or computer screen as the case may be) and make my thoughts permanent. And sometimes, I cannot fully express what I am feeling unless I flesh it out with the written word.

What my blog will NOT be...

~It won't be a place of cruelty. I won't be writing mean and hateful things. There are blogs out there that thrive on the cruel, and the cutting words.... that is not what you will find here. I just want a place to feel like I am having a conversation with friends, a place we can sit down over a cup of coffee and laugh and talk, and expand our worlds and our minds.

~It may not be that regular. I am starting this out on blogger to see if I have enough to say to be consistent. If I do, if I post regularly, then eventually I will be setting up my own site to capture this. But I just don't know yet.

~It won't be fascinating tales of all the amazing adventures that I go on as I travel the world. Mike and I are very happy with our quiet lives in a small town, and although we take exciting trips, our normal day to day lives are not that interesting for you to read about. Mostly what I strive to put down here is to capture thoughts, to give you a glimpse inside my head so that you can know me better. So that I can know myself better and continue the ongoing process of fine tuning who I am and where I stand.

I feel better already knowing that I have created a place to capture the fleeting with some semblance of permanence.

~ifer