Here You Go, Phats...

...and any other American Idol buddies.

First of all...Phats, I talked to Nikki at the game tonight. :) We talked about you. The game was l-o-n-g and I hadn't had dinner yet, so I grabbed some fast food (consolation for losing the game) and came home to watch the Idol top 24 show, and here are my first impression opinions.

I was excited that the following people made it to the top 24:

David Archuleta (the 16 year old that Simon said had everything going for him). I think Simon was right - and I think that although the younger ones always struggle against the older ones - this guy might have a shot. So far I really like not only his voice but his charisma.

Kristy Lee Cook (the girl who went back to her original Amazing Grace audition for her last shot). I think she's kind of in danger of being a cookie cutter of a hundred other pretty blonde girls throughout the seasons, but I thought she had a good voice and she didn't annoy me, so I put her on my good list.

Brooke White (the girl who has never seen an R rated movie). And no, that's not why I put her on the list - although good job for her! I like that she has some unique quirks about her. I've liked her personality from the very first audition, and I think she has a confidence about who she is, but not so over the top that it's annoying.

Michael Johns (the one that Simon said in Hollywood had the best audition so far). Not sure what it is about him that I like so much - but I just really liked him.

And my top two favorites...that I was going to be DEVASTATED if they didn't get through - were Syesha Mercado and Asia'h Epperson. I loved, loved, loved them both. I thought Syesha did a great job of not begging for sympathy about her voice when she lost it...she competed fairly and with a good attitude. And Asia'h did a great job of pushing through even after just losing her dad.

Now for my other comments - the last two guys - Colton and Kyle. To be honest, I couldn't even remember Colton, but I thought he was a gracious winner, so good for him. And Kyle wins the most gracious defeat of the night. He was so very pleasant. Good for him. And good for his parents for teaching him those manners!

And on the last two ladies - Cardin and Joanne - didn't remember either of them from before, but I was happy (for self-esteem's sake if nothing else) that Joanne made it through. And I thought it interesting that Simon pushed away the weight issue. Hmmmm....could it be that he is learning?

And sorry, Phats, I was not thrilled that the rocker nurse made it through. She's going to have to win me over. Same with Carly - the one who had to drop out last time because of her visa? Not a fan at all.

So there. I only like 6 (potentially 8) out of 24 - my odds in the top 12 are not looking good!

It Could Be Worse, Part 2

A while back I posted this from a news report about newlyweds who found out they were actually brother and sister, separated at birth.

Today I saw this article, reminding me that again it could be worse...married and widowed all in the same day!

Bits for Sunday, February 10, 2008

I don't think I've mentioned much about this yet...but I did a very unbekahlike thing and purchased furniture a few weeks ago. This was the rather impulsive result of watching way too many hours of HGTV over Christmas break. As a result of absorbing designs, redesigns, and a little more designing, I have a mental overhaul for the bathroom, but the actual purchase became new furniture. My poor mother allowed herself to be hauled all over town while I tried to settle on exactly what I wanted.

Never before have I purchased real furniture. My first purchase was in college - a rather interesting-smelling love seat purchased for something like $20 at the Goodwill. Everyone should own a $20 Goodwill special during college. The thing was ugly beyond ugly and no amount of airing it out in the early fall sun quite got rid of that strange scent...if only the Febreze makers had scurried up their invention just a bit, I might have had a better smelling couch!

Once out on my own, my first from-the-store purchase was a black futon which served as my couch for quite a while. The futon came from Wal-Mart and had to be deposited into my car in pieces for the drive home. My ex-boyfriend assembled it for me and Kaegan promptly christened it with the shedding of his blonde fur. Never have a black futon and a yellow cat. Lesson learned. I still have the futon, but it's been promoted to a more proper function in the guest room.

And then came the Rescue Mission special. My first furniture grouping. A matching couch and love seat in the same strange 70's peach floral motif that matched my living room at the time. I felt as though I surely had "arrived" since I owned a living room set. But it had lived quite a life even before it came to be mine and at long last the springs began to stop springing...and it became quite uncomfortable, leaving me to search for something newer.

So I purchased a "new" couch - handed down from my boss, whose wife was in a redecorating mood of her own. I loved that couch - so much so that I can't bring myself to part with it yet. It's long and pillowy and makes a great place to take a nap. But over Christmas break, I learned that one long couch serving as the only means of seating in a room doesn't work well for company. My friend Lindsey and her Mom stopped by to see me, so I gave them the couch, and I sat on the floor staring up at them...reminding me of the days of story-hour. That's when I knew...I needed a set of furniture that worked well for lounging AND for entertaining...and fit in my strangely-shaped living room.

So I decided to be a grown-up girl and go furniture shopping for real furniture at a real store. For something that was made this decade, did not require a Febreze treatment, and did not require assmbly.

Enter....the fat chair.

The moment I sat in this chair in the furniture store, I knew...it was the chair for me. It's a chair and a half that reclines...and I told Mom I could comfortably gain 200 pounds without a care in the world. The fabric is soft and blanket-like, and I almost took a nap right there in the store. I ordered the chair in chocolate...I thought that was an appropriate fabric name for something belonging to me. I love my fat chair.

But I needed something besides a fat chair...and my living room layout does not support a couch AND another piece, so I opted for a love seat. I branched out (after all, I learned on HGTV that you can do this) and chose something from another grouping, because I decided I didn't want a matching set. This might qualify as the world's most pillowy love seat. In fact, if you actually want two people to sit on it, you have to take off the throw pillows becuase otherwise, it just does not work.




So this week the little furniture truck pulled up in front of my house and dropped off my newest decorating additions. Unfortunately I had forgotten the night before to remove the current furniture to make a place for them, so when the first delivery guy came in the house, he stared around at the very full room and said, "Uh, where do you want this to go?" I just shrugged and pointed to the walking space and said, "Oh anywhere is great. I'll figure it out later." He gave me a pretty puzzled look and clarified, "You don't want us to put it somewhere?" I shook my head and laughed...and he walked away probably muttering under his breath about crazy people who buy furniture and don't know where to put it.

I spent the entire evening figuring out the new placement, and I think it looks pretty good. My Dad agreed. My Mom just nodded her approval and added "You'll change the arrangement in three months anyway." I can't argue with her there. But she did like it...and I'm sure she'll like the next set-up just as much. :)

The cats...well...they weren't too sure about it at first. Kaegan didn't even try. He marched right into the next room and curled up on the couch he knew. Braeya gave it a shot...


And now I have to sit on the love seat because she has permanently claimed the very middle of this big old chair as her very own.

Let's hope she doesn't gain 200 pounds.

Skyepuppy's Tag

I was tagged a few days ago by fellow blogger Skyepuppy...and now I have a moment to play! Here were the rules of the tag:

Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
Open the book to page 123.
Find the fifth sentence.
Post the next three sentences.
Tag five people.

It just so happened that when I read the tag, the nearest book to me was one I recently finished: In the Footsteps of Jesus. I've blogged about it before. The book is written by Bruce Marchiano, an actor who portrayed Jesus in a four hour film - The Gospel of Matthew. I had the book nearby because I read an excerpt in office devotions this week.

Page 123 happens to be the first page of chapter eight, which is titled "Dirty Feet and Rough but Gentle Hands." Sentences five through eight make up the entire second paragraph, so I'm going to post them all:

"I've never asked, but I can only guess everyone passes by that rock assuming it's nothing more than a tasteless attempt at interior decorating. But truth be told, that rock is no interior decoration at all. That rock, in fact, was specifically selected from a cornfield just off the Ventura Highway in Encino, California. And believe it or not, it played an integral role in our presentation of Jesus in Matthew."

Just as a matter of background, the rock Bruce is referring to is on a shelf in his living room alongside the crown of thorns he wore in the crucifixion scene. His explanation of how he found the rock and how he used it is quite a fascinating story, actually.

The entire book is...I don't know that just one word can capture it. It's thought-provoking, eye-opening, and certainly emotion-stirring. I know it's going to end up on my list of 50 must-read books, so I guess I'll work harder at a synopsis and post that later.

I don't know that I have five reading bloggers on my list who haven't already been tagged - so I'll leave the passing of the tag up to you if you want it!

Randomness

Skyepuppy - I am not ignoring the tag. I just have to sit down and write it out! That will appear soon, I promise.

In the meantime, I watched American Idol last night and have to tell you that I cried over the girl who auditioned 2 days after her dad died in a car accident. I can't remember how to spell her name, and I don't want to butcher it too badly, so I won't even try it. Anyway, that took incredible courage to stay and sing - and to sing the song she chose. I liked everything about her. I thought she had more than a good (and interesting) voice. She had a lot of personality. I hope she does well. (And it was nice to see Simon's softer side.)

I also watched the Biggest Loser. Or I tried. Between interruptions for Super Tuesday and interruptions for weather, it was tough to actually stay with the show. But anyway, I had a "fat day" yesterday, so I was hoping the show would both motivate me to get back on the elliptical and make me feel that it might not be quite as bad as it felt in that moment. Apparently it worked. I was eating a turkey sandwich by the end of it. (Not sure that is quite the way that should work.)

Braving the rain and the potential bad attitude, I also went to Wal-Mart to purchase a new curling iron. I'm in the middle of an "I hate my hair" phase, and I can't decide if I need to just tough it out until it grows a little bit longer or if I should just start over with something shorter. I thought (rather than killing almost a year's worth of work with one chop of the scissors) I would try a new curling iron to see if that helps. Apparently some irons require a certain amount of skill. Apparently I do not possess said skill. My trial run last night left me looking a bit like a frizzy eight year old. Fortunately it went better by this morning. Still not sure how I feel about the project as a whole.

Nine Months

It seems appropriate to me that in the same amount of time that it takes to create a new human life...a new life began for my sister's family this weekend. They got to move into their new home! The tornado that took their home happened nine months ago today - which is really hard for me to believe. It's hard to believe that only nine months after that sort of devastation, they could be in a brand new home. And in other ways, the tornado seems much longer ago than nine months...as I'm sure it feels to them too!

I'm anxious to see more of the finished product of the house - but in the meantime, if you want to see some random shots of Greensburg buiding green (the newest fad, if you watch much of HGTV), you can go here to see the town's official page. Under the resident tab is a photo gallery if you want to see some of the progress across town through the past nine months.

So, Lori - enjoy your new home! I shall be sending housewarming cookies shortly!

Bits for Sunday, February 3, 2008

This week has been fairly boring. I don’t really complain about that, because if the opposite of boring is crisis, I’ll certainly take the boring. But it does make it challenging to find something to write about when your life hasn’t presented you with any material.

So today’s thoughts are the height of randomness…all taken from the pages of a magazine. I don’t know if your mind does this or not, but mine will hop from trail to trail…I see something and it makes me think of something else. So this afternoon, when I didn’t feel very well, I curled up with a magazine from 2004 (time to catch up on my reading!) and started flipping through the pages. Fortunately it wasn’t a People magazine or something that reported a budding romance that is now four marriages old. But as I read…my mind wandered.

First I found an advertisement for the Honda Accord, which had the following quote: “Two roads diverged in a wood – and I took the one less traveled by state troopers.” My sentiments exactly. But state troopers made me think of emergency vehicles, which reminded me that yesterday as I sat at my computer, I heard sirens in the distance…which got closer…and closer…and much too close, really. Do you know how disconcerting it is to watch a fire truck pull up in front of your house…while you’re in said house? What did I miss? I started sniffing. Fortunately the truck kept creeping forward…something happening over at the neighbors. Still, it took a while for my heart to return to a normal speed.

Then I saw the ad for the Loreal sublime bronzing self-tanner lotion…which reminded me that I happened to notice last year’s rather unorthodox sock line remains incredibly tanned on both my legs…and I’ve definitely not been in the sun since early October. Should I start the self tanner now in preparation for spring exercise? Or just buy shorter socks? Of course then I’d have two unorthodox tan lines...

The summer gift guide had a section of must-have wedding gifts, one of which was a cordless drill. I never thought of a cordless drill as a high-profile wedding gift, but then again, I’ve never been married, so what do I know? But the cordless drill reminded me that last night when I stood up from scrapping (or rather when I scooted in the chair that Braeya stole from me, forcing me to stand beside her while I scrapped and she slept), I found a screw on the floor. Woops. Guess my self-assembly job on the chair didn’t go as stellar as I proclaimed. In my defense, I don’t think it came loose. I think I stuck it in the hole and never tightened it. That’s my story…and I’m sticking to it.

And speaking of Braeya…another page had a picture of a kitty next to the world’s best litter box…which reminded me of her insatiable need to be in the bathroom, and more specifically, flushing the toilet. This morning I almost helped her enjoy endless hours of that pastime. I was rushing around getting ready for church (the hair would NOT cooperate it, and my attempts to fix by adding more hairspray didn’t really help it…just made me more of a walking fire hazard) and I didn’t check the bathroom carefully – or at all – before slamming the door shut to keep her out while I was gone. I remembered something right as I walked out the door to church which made me go back to the bathroom…and when I opened the door, she scurried out. Woops. I guess the point of shutting the door to keep her from flushing the day away only works if she’s on the opposite side of the door.

The magazine had an oh-so helpful article to “insure promptness, cultivate allies, and show your appreciation in 35 situations” by giving pointers on the appropriate amount to tip. I now know what to do on all my next run-ins with a personal trainer, dog groomer, grocery delivery person, hotel maid, kids’ party performer, and bed and breakfast owner. Right. See, I eat at establishments with a dollar menu, and I shop at Wal-Mart. Tipping isn’t a frequently needed thing for me. (Although when I shopped at 6:30 in the morning this week to beat the pre-snow panic, I might have been willing to tip for someone to stand out in the dark and cold and load my groceries into the trunk and then take the cart to the corral!)

I found the section on summer looks (which I now like, because I’m usually about four seasons behind) and the cute little red sheath dress and strappy red sandals brought back a flood of unpleasant memories surrounding my Easter dress shopping experience last year. Perhaps I should start now for this year?

I also found an article about how to have a more streamlined life and checked through the suggestions to see how many of them I’d already incorporated. Put the kids to work – well, I would if I had any. Keep an everything datebook – check! Have a shredder ready – check! Prepare breakfast at night – wouldn’t the apple cinnamon cheerios be a little soggy by morning? Keep an ongoing shopping list – check! Write realistic to-do lists – check! (Do I actually have to do them?) Presort the laundry – check! Organize your hand-me-downs – check! (It’s called hang them in the closet and pick one to wear tomorrow.) Once I learn to minimize my trips to the kitchen garbage can, I think I’m in good shape.

I elected to forego the experiment of making pork scaloppine with a side of Tuscan bean soup, closed the magazine, and considered myself caught up to date…for four years ago.

If nothing exciting happens this week, I think that next Sunday afternoon, I’ll make cookies, and then I’ll give you the recipe.

Goodbye January!

Since today is the last day of the month (how did this happen?) I thought I would look back over these past thirty days, which have been very good. I made a number of adjustments to my life and schedule, but I'm so excited to see what the next eleven months will bring after seeing what happened in the first one!

* A Proverbs Run-Through. One of my commitments this year is to read through the book of Proverbs every month by reading one chapter per day. In January, I chose to read just the verses...no commentary, no study notes, no other influence. Just the text. I began to notice the themes that run throughout the bits of wisdom, and I definitely found myself under conviction more times than I would have liked!

* Forty-One Cent Stamps. What happened to letter writing? Oh, I know. The development of e-mail and the price of postage. This year (this decade, actually) I've committed to writing a letter every week...and it was so much fun this month to hear back from some of the people who received a letter. I don't do it to receive a reaction, but it is really fun to hear their surprise and excitement when they get something in the mail that does NOT require sending money.

* Loving Less. Another commitment for this year is to read one book every month on how to improve some type of relationship. My first book (because it came alphabetically first on the shelf) was Stephen Arterburn's book When You Love Too Much. I'd heard him interviewed on the radio about this book and decided to see for myself if it could offer advice on how to avoid repeating the dysfunction of past relationships. The book was tough to read - no girl likes uncovering all her faults and weaknesses. But by the end I had a lot of hope that through significant work (and probably an equal amount of tears) I can someday find myself in a relationship that is healthy.

* Learning About Mornings. I started doing part of my devotions in the morning, and while I'm still not a fan of pre-noon hours, I'm already seeing a difference in my heart after spending even five or ten minutes studying Scripture before beginning the day in earnest.

* Fully Alive. The good old "Fully Alive in the Spirit" chorus is my theme song for this year, and I've tried to relax a bit this month to allow myself to live out its words. Long naps if I'm tired, sleeping in if I had a late night, disciplining myself to exercise, walking away from the TV in favor of reading, hanging out with my newfound buddies at the ballgames, cooking up a storm, squeezing in a little shopping, writing for fun, renting movies, impromptu trip-lets (that would be miniature trips, not 3 children), choosing to sit for ten minutes if Braeya feels like snuggling up...all this is not very Bekah-like, but I'm truly having a blast!

No to the Snow

I heard this morning that we could get some nasty weather soon. Of course you know how weather predictions go; it could end up being nothing at all.

Even so, here's what I hope we do NOT get. I found these pictures Sunday evening when I was sorting.

This is Dad, and buried somewhere in that coat is me, with my dog. A chihuahua. Her name was Lassie. Stop laughing. This was the snow Dad had shoveled (by hand...snow blowers were not around then) in our driveway. I'm guessing it was a snow day.


But even worse than what he had to shovel was the drift that showed up of its own accord. Yes, that is the roof line in the top of the picture. As in...right above the drift. Looks like I was pretty excited about the snow. Clearly I didn't have to help with said shoveling.

And Lassie just looks like she wants to get away.


Lassie was the epitome of "man's best friend." I first met her when she was just a few days old and she was the sweetest little dog. My Mom did not permit animals in the house, but Lassie got more than her share of exceptions. Dad trained her to recognize the edges of this bathroom rug as her boundary. Whenever we'd bring her inside, she'd go right to the edge and peer over, but she would not even dare to put one paw on the carpet. Her best trick was howling. I would sing (a sound similar to howling) and Lassie would howl right alongside me. She was literally the best dog ever - even Mom said so. We had her for about a year before she simply disappeared. Dad still says that he had a harder time with losing her than even I did - and I was absolutely devastated. I remember that day when he had to tell me she was gone. He couldn't even offer me a good reason because he just didn't know.
If I were to ever get another dog, I would want one just like Lassie.

Bits for Sunday, January 27, 2008

I just woke up from one of the longest naps I’ve taken in a while. It was such a long nap that I even dreamed my parents stopped by to see me and while I was aware that they had arrived, I couldn’t figure out how to get off the couch and to the door to let them inside. Fortunately that was just a dream. However, literally five seconds after I did roll off the couch, my doorbell rang. Some college students were walking through the neighborhood asking how they could pray for people. As I stood there with a rumpled skirt, bedhead, and one half of my face probably imprinted with a selection of letters from the “Princess” pillow, I doubt I needed to offer any verbal request.

But my need for a long winter’s nap had little to do with winter and more to do with a reward for surviving the solo teaching experience of junior high Sunday School this morning. (Brian, this whole week is just for you.)

I think I’ve told you this part before, but as a refresher…last fall? Early winter? Somewhere in there, anyway, Pastor Brian asked if I wanted to help him teach the next round of junior high Sunday School. I wasn’t too sure about it, because in general, I’m petrified of teenagers. I remember being one, and I didn’t care for it. I remember having them for peers, and I didn’t care for that either. I wasn’t sure if I could handle being tossed back into the midst of this age group…but I agreed. And really, the class we have is full of great guys and girls who have surprised me with their knowledge of random Bible facts, their vocabulary, and their ability to eat more donuts in one hour than I thought humanly possible. (Never underestimate the power of growing boys.)

I’m learning so much about life in the junior high hallways (which has subsequently made me grateful that I walked those halls years ago when I did, and not today), PS2/X Box 360 (and a host of other game ensembles that have more acronyms than I encounter in my acronym-laden job), and just a tiny bit about football, but not too much, because any time a group of guys converges to talk sports, it becomes a talk-over-each-other match that tops anything a group of girls could do.

And in the middle of all that, Brian and I are trying to figure out what junior high students do and do not know about God and the Bible. He and I had this conversation (via email) a few weeks ago and decided perhaps we’ve been assuming too much. I assume that because I learned to look up Bible verses in second grade Sunday School (thanks, June!), all kids know how to look up verses by the time they enter third grade. When I shared that theory with Jon and Julie last weekend during my visit to their new home and church, Julie told me that not only can the third graders not look up verses, they’ve learned that people in their late twenties start every verse look-up in the table of contents. That blew my mind. I told Brian that I assume these kids know that there are 66 books in the Bible – 39 in the old and 27 in the new (thanks, Corrine!) and how to at least sing all 66 books if they can’t recite them otherwise (thanks, Chuck!). These are all things I learned in opening exercises in Sunday School.

But wait. We don’t have opening exercises anymore. As we discussed that, Brian realized that his kids haven’t ever been in a church that still does opening exercises. I think at that point, our email conversation became more about “the good old days” than how to move this forward with the kids we have.

So this morning I drove to church, knowing Brian wouldn’t be there, and not knowing what to do with my handful of junior high kids that may or may not know what I assume they know.

I took food. I was at least smart enough to know that my chances of not being tomorrow’s cafeteria talk were greater if I presented an edible offering to the hungry boys. I prayed that at least one girl would show up, knowing I would be far less nervous if I had one shred of fellow estrogen in the room. (Thanks, Lauren, for saving me!)

While the boys devoured the cinnamon rolls (a couple of the rolls were kidnapped by the high school class next door who came over under the guise of “checking to make sure a teacher showed up”) I asked how the week went. This was met with the signature shoulder shrug and accompanying, “Okay, I guess. I don’t remember.” I walked right into that one.

I began with a quiz (I so should have been a real life teacher. I would be the cafeteria talk) over what we learned last week. I found the quiz online and took it myself. I missed one. I was pretty proud when the one I missed wasn’t even a source of contention for them. I guess they listened better than I thought. So the quiz went over pretty well…and that was when we discovered the chocolate milk in the refrigerator had frozen.

(In case you’re not aware, semi-frozen chocolate milk being squeezed out into a plastic cup is quite hilarious and must be given its moment before continuing.)

So once the humor of the milk had gone by the wayside, we launched into our discussion of Moses killing the Egyptian for beating the Hebrew. Let me tell you how much a group of four junior high boys loves such a story. When I asked how this guy might have died, one offered me a full acting demonstration complete with staggering, choking, and multiple sound effects. He was pretty good at it!

I tried to ask why Moses didn’t try to reason with him first…why he just went ahead and killed the guy, and they looked at me like I was slightly crazy. They said “He did! But the guy didn’t listen, so that’s why he pushed him off the scaffolding.” Apparently instead of renting My Big Fat Greek Wedding Friday night, I should have rented The Prince of Egypt. What was I thinking? I tried to submit that perhaps it may not have happened just as the movie said, but I’m not sure I was very convincing. Incidentally, when I asked how Moses knew he was a Hebrew and knew that he belonged to the people being oppressed, one of the guys told me that it was because when he walked among them, he heard his sister singing the song his mother used to sing when he was a baby. (Good work, Prince of Egypt writers. Wouldn’t have thought of that angle.)

So anyway, we got through that part of the story, the milk thawed, the cinnamon rolls AND the donuts that came in later were eaten, we found a couple of prayer requests, and someone did pray.

And I…took a nap.

Miss America, Raspberry Pie, and Goal Tending

Three things that have nothing in common once you leave this blog post. :)

I'm taking a break from watching Miss America. Yes, I admit, I'm a sucker for beauty pageants. I've been watching bits and pieces of the Miss America reality show on TLC this month, so I already had some favorites before the pageant even aired. In case you're not aware, "they're" (who is "they," anyway?) trying to reinvent the image of the pageant, because it has been declining in popularity in recent years. So these ladies have been in training for the last month trying to "de-pageant" the pageant and make it more modern. I'm impressed with a lot of the changes, but the talent round just ended and I sincerely felt like I'd just left a snippet of Miss Congeniality. (Complete with opera, out of control tutus, and baton twirling.) I'm interested to see how it ends though. Miss Indiana is still in the running, so that's exciting.

In other news today, I made my first ever raspberry pie. I love to cook, but my mother is kind of the resident pie making champion for the greater tri-county area. (Not as in REALLY a champion...it's just that she's really really good at it, so why should I learn to make pies?) But tonight I just decided I wanted pie. Real pie. Not a deli pie made last week or a frozen pie crust with a can of filling. A real honest-to-goodness, from scratch pie. And I did it! A small puddle of the filling took up residence on the bottom of the oven (woops!) but the pie tastes so good. I'm not quite the crust-maker that my Mom is, but it sure wasn't bad for a first attempt!

And finally, proving that I can take in knowledge on the weekends, I learned new things at the basketball game today. I've been going to ball games this season and am gradually learning to cheer on my own and not as a response to the cheering of those around me. I came into the season knowing little more than how to recognize a free throw and the proper stance to take during the national anthem (which is more than I can say for a significant majority of the student body...but I digress) and each game, I learn a little bit more. Today I learned (thanks Ronda, for teaching me this one!) about goal tending. My day is a success.

Agitating Agitators and Other Life Adventures

Remember that one day when my sheets were eaten up by the agitator in the washing machine? Well today it was my best work pants. What is it with my washer? I threw in a load of laundry tonight, including my one and only power suit for work. When I went to move the clothes into the dryer, the pants were firmly entwined under the agitator. I was rather unamused, as you might expect. This time, though, I didn't push or pull. I just left them and called my Dad. Thank goodness he hasn't moved on to his next surgery yet and is available for washer emergencies!

This evening has been a comedy of God making a point to me, I think. I was so excited to have a night at home and I planned to write the night away, take in a little American Idol, and go to bed early to ward off the cold that is threatening to invade me. As I was driving home, my friend Faith called to see if she could stop by and pick up some stamps. Well, sure! So she stopped by with her two kiddos (Braeya shot me a look when she saw a 2 year old ambling up the front steps) and we chatted for a few moments. I walked her back to her truck and she stuck the key in the ignition to warm it up...dead. So we unpacked the kids, brought them back in the house, and hung out while we waited for her husband to come over and fix the problem. When he walked back outside after getting the keys from her, Hannah (the two year old) shouted behind him, "Hey Daddy! Mommy needs the battery fixed on the truck!" We were cracking up.

So Faith and I had a great time catching up - something we've had little time to do since baby number two arrived before Christmas - but I didn't get my writing done. When I sat down to do the part that absolutely had to be done tonight, I noticed the verse I would be writing about was "Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails." Point taken, God. It was really refreshing to catch up over scrapbooks and watch Hannah chase the "killy" (that would be the ever uncooperative Braeya). That was a better plan than the writing - which will still be here tomorrow.

But speaking of scrapbooks...just had to share this with you. I went to visit my friends Jon and Julie last weekend. They used to be my neighbors just around the corner, but Jon took a job as the youth pastor of a church about an hour away, so now I don't get to see them every week. :( I went to see their new digs and the church where Jon works...and Julie had found a little gift for me. These are magnets:
Does this girl know me or WHAT?!?!?

Here is Jon outside his office in the church. "Pastor of Youth." Apparently "pastors of youth" make their living as grown up teenagers...drinking pop from sour candy straws.


And here's me with little Julie - we were so tired by this time! I rewarded myself for driving home (in the dark, without directions) without getting lost...by stopping at Starbucks!

Bits for Sunday, January 20, 2008

Those who know me well know that change is not necessarily my best friend. I’ve written about it before…the combination of baby steps and big steps I’ve taken away from my comfort zone and into something different.

I don’t mind change so much when it’s my idea. Proof positive of that would be found in my house…where I’m forever repainting, changing the furniture, or at the very least, dreaming up the next big plan. Mind you, the plan is probably only going to take place when I win Publishers Clearing House (which I don’t play) or get married (which currently is about as likely as winning PCH). But at least I have a plan ready. When I have time to think about things and ease into something new, I dearly love it. But when it’s tossed to me…well, that’s when I start to scream “Mama!”

For example…I walked into church this morning and the sanctuary had been rearranged. (Now there’s a sentence you never used to be able to say!) A few months ago, we replaced our pews with chairs (an idea I had enough warning on to embrace nicely). When the chairs arrived, the new seating pattern moved from being two sections with a center aisle to three sections with two aisles. That took some adjustment. But I had comfortably settled in…and this morning we were back to two sections with a center aisle. I think Pastor Brian had some fun watching me just stand at the back and stare, wondering where I’d find a new seat for the day.

Another example…at work, we’re moving toward becoming a paperless society. I don’t think anyone can truly understand how much I love paper. I love paper. I love books, I love scrapbooks. I love files. I love binders. I love card stock. I love paper. In fact, I told a couple people at work last week that when the paperless plan goes through, I intend to move a stack of paper to the end of my desk just so I can look at it if I so desire. They all know that this is about as appealing to me as removing my own spleen. Fortunately I have a kind office, and they’re willing to slowly encourage me toward this new and frightening world of dual monitors and on-screen sticky notes.

But for all my hesitation…resistance…firm opposition…whatever you want to call it…here’s the bottom line. Progress exhausts me.
A few years ago, I wrote a little article about the modern office – and how things had changed so much in the few short years I had worked in the real world. I stumbled upon that the other day and found myself longing for the simplicity of that modern office. I gotta tell you that the progress we’ve made since then has absolutely worn me out. Let me just give you an example of that.

This past week, I simply tried to get into a website to discover some information. Once upon a time, that was the extent of the exercise. Want to know something? Get online and find it. Then with the ever-increasing security risks, you had to remember to check for the little lock icon in the screen before entering too much personal information…and I accepted that extra measure with gratitude. Now I have to check for a picture to make sure it appears as I selected it to appear. I also have to hunt down a secure phrase (also of my own choosing) and if it does not appear or does not appear in conjunction with the chosen picture, then I must not pass go, not collect two hundred dollars, and probably not ever be able to use the website again. In addition, I have to answer a revolving security question, which sometimes has trick questions and is always case sensitive…therefore causing me to panic each time that I’ll answer it wrong and be turned in to the authorities for simply trying to be…myself. Once I pass that test, then I must remember my ID and password.

Another site I use requires that I change my password every so many days (which feels like five) and never at any point in time from now until the nursing home, can I use any form of the previous password in the new password. I don’t even know that many words, let alone have the capability of remembering them on the shifting basis.

My favorite one came at work this week, when I logged in (incorrectly, because I forgot I had just changed my password to something it has never before been and can never be again) and had to pass the “are you a human?” test by retyping the mystery phrase. The combination of letters, spaces, and numbers was so distorted that…you guessed it…I typed it in wrong and had to try again. Once I finally copied the hieroglyphic wannabe correctly, it let me in, only to tell me I needed a combination of information about the student…and of course I didn’t have that. I got into the screen I wanted just in time to remember that because of heightened security measures, I couldn’t access everything from that screen…so I went jumping from screen to screen writing down the information as I gathered it (gasp! The use of paper!) so I could find what I wanted.

The problem?

By the time I got there, I forgot what I wanted to know.

So there I sat, irritated, forgetful, and exhausted.

And amid it all, I had a piece of paper that required shredding at the conclusion of the matter.

And change is good????

You Know You Spend Too Much Time At The Photo Lab When...

You're not the first person in line, but the photo lab lady digs out your order and brings it to you anyway.

I am working on my scrapbooks today and braved the frigid temps to have some prints made at Wal-Mart. When I returned a few hours later to pick them up, I was the second person back in line, but I got my pictures first. Guess it pays to be recognized as a frequent customer?

Here are a couple of the pictures I picked up today. They're not new, but I had them printed in black and white to frame and hang in my bedroom as the final touch before taking the "after" pictures of the makeover. (A makeover which started a year and a half ago, you understand.)

I was pretty impressed that I managed to take both of them myself...no timer...AND the cats cooperated. That is rare.

Kaegan

Braeya

It's Baaaaaaack!

Well my small consolation in the TV world of no writers is that American Idol is back...and my stomach hurts from laughing.

This particular picture was taken two years ago at the little party I hosted for the opening night. I was mid-coffee-drink when a less than stellar singer tried to go up the down escalator...in a dress, no less...and I nearly spit coffee on my guests. This time it was tea that just about went flying, but the general idea is the same.

Oh goodness. I just have no words for so many of them. I can't even remember their names...but there have been some scary ones. The guy who wrote the stalker song for Paula both amused me (as Kristin said, "Who knew that much rhymed with stalk her?") and scared me to death! I felt bad for the girl who even softened Simon's heart...and it was very nice of him to walk her out to her parents and break the bad news to them. I liked the girl at the very end - the nanny who hasn't watched an R-rated movie. I thought she had a good voice and she seemed to be just a good person.

Tonight's crowning moment was saved until the end - with that never ending brotherly love song. Good grief. I don't think the singers who got through today (most of them anyway) were as good as yesterday's. A couple of them got through on sheer luck. How did that happen?

Anyway, it brought a bit of laughter to my day...so welcome back, American Idol!

Bits for Sunday, January 13, 2008

This week I’ve been thinking quite a bit about discipline.

Not because I particularly enjoy it, you understand, but it just seems to be popping up everywhere. Conversations. Devotions. Books. When something doesn’t go away, I usually figure God’s trying to get something through my head. So…I’ve been giving it some thought.

It started when I went to my friend Jaye’s birthday party and she and I talked about last year and all the commitments I made. She asked if I’d given in and had a taste of the coveted pop yet…which I haven’t. That led to an entire discussion about the discipline of doing the things I committed to do and which ones I kept and which ones I let go…and so it began in my mind.

One of my commitments for this year is to read Proverbs through every month. There are 31 chapters in Proverbs and also that many days in nearly each month…so if I read a chapter a day, I can read all of Proverbs in a month. At the end of the year, I’ll have read Proverbs through twelve times. Right now I’m in the chapters that are the Proverbs attributed to King Solomon, and each is a little couplet – not necessarily relating to the topic of the one before it or the one after it. I’m learning that there are definite themes in his wise sayings, though, and one of them is discipline. I keep making notes in my journal about what he says regarding discipline…and another month I’ll have to do a study just on that topic.

And then came the book. Another of my commitments this year is to read one book each month…on the topic of some sort of relationship. The one that I’m reading this month is a tough one – because it forces me to take a hard look at how I operate. I’m learning I’ve got a little more work to do than I thought. And many evenings I just sit with the book and shake my head wondering how I can be so incredibly disciplined in some areas (like flossing) and in other areas I can be so disorderly!

One evening this week, as I walked on the track, I thought about what Jaye said…I thought about what Proverbs said…and I thought about what I didn’t want to learn about myself while reading that book. I thought about being carbonated-beverage-free and exercising and flossing and all the other successes of last year and wondered how in the world I could tie all of this together and turn it into something beneficial.

Then I thought about something I told my friend Kari last week, when I reported in about my new list of commitments. I told her I felt frazzled and unsure of how to make this new schedule work…but then again I remembered feeling that way last year when I started my big list. And yet in time, I began to remember the things I needed to do on a daily basis without consulting the master list. I began to instinctively fine tune my schedule to allow for the commitments and not scramble every Saturday night to finish the things that I hadn’t done yet.

And now, a year later, I see that those things are just part of who I am. I disciplined myself right into desiring those things to be part of my life. Do I love them? Not all of them. I don’t skip to the gym with joy. Many days I still force myself to change into the grubbies and go. But I know the lifestyle change is something I desire enough that I choose to continue the discipline.

And so it will be with some of these new things. So I haven’t always done a great job in the past in some areas. That doesn’t mean I’m a complete failure for it. It just means now is the time to create new disciplines that will help me improve. And while right now that hurts and makes me tired…eventually it will become a desire in my heart.

So that’s what I’ve learned about discipline this week. I need to exercise it. I’m not perfect at it. And most people probably think I’m crazy for it. But if I ever want to desire the better things, I’ve got to start (or continue) training myself in that direction.

And so, Jaye, to better complete the conversation we started at your party…I guess that’s the basics of how and why I do what I do. I don’t like it. But after a while I definitely want it. And when the desire kicks in, it’s a whole lot easier.

The Table

Here it is! The table I assembled myself! There really is a fourth chair...I just hadn't put it together yet when I took this picture. I love my new table and actually have not eaten dinner on the couch one time since I got this! I sit at the table like a big girl and eat my food.

Last night I also discovered that it works GREAT for scrapping. I prefer to stand and scrap because I seem to work better that way...but I get really bad backaches from bending over the table. That isn't an issue anymore!

Wouldn't THIS Just Be My Luck

I suppose it could be worse.

I found this story on Yahoo's news list today. I suppose there are worse things than not finding the man of your dreams.

Full Work Weeks

Just like I don't understand why it only takes me two days to get my days and nights mixed up...and then two weeks to get them straightened out again, I don't understand why I can so easily adapt to shortened work weeks and can't figure out how to get used to the five day routine again. The shortened weeks I'd had lately were no less busy than a full week...so I had to cram a whole lotta work into a very short work frame. You'd think I'd be grateful to have more time to accomplish it. But instead...I think this has been the longest week EVER.

It's not been a bad week. I haven't been reduced to tears by any irate person. I've been able to rest and watch TV and exercise and do all my fun things I like to do. But it has been a lonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng week. And it didn't help that a couple of days, I thought it was already the next day. Boy was that a disappointment when I figured out the truth!

I guess I don't have any monumental news except that I hear tonight is the last Grey's until the strike ends...so I'm telling myself tonight is the last Grey's of the season. Very sad. But American Idol picks up soon so I can chatter about that!

One more day...and then a full work week is ACCOMPLISHED!

Leftover Christmas

Ahhh...a few sweet minutes at home to make cards and eat dinner and watch TV and sort through the ads from the Sunday paper. That is the very sort of night I've been craving, and tonight I got it!

While I was at it, I had a chance to add a few pictures that Mom gave me from Christmas day:

Lori, I guess this proves that even a digital camera doesn't prevent her from beheading a subject. In my heart, I'd like to think she was so focused on her grandcat that she wasn't even worried about me...but I have a feeling she just missed. I was trying to show Braeya the cat food, but she was much more interested in the catnip on the other side of that stocking.


Posing with my stocking and my "consolation prize for lack of husband."


This was my "gift from Christmas past" - and no, it did not come with a ghost. This was a platter that Mom and Dad received for their 25th wedding anniversary. I think I might use it at my next entertainment extravaganza. Hey Kari - see the candles you gave me up on the table? they fit in so perfectly with that little ensemble!

Oh look. Imagine that. Me being goofy! I believe this was a gift of an "IOU."

Mom found coffee magnets for my refrigerator. Perfect!
Well I'd love to write some more but it's time to gather up the trash and get busy on other stuff, so I'll go for now.