what's the right thing?

The other morning I was getting ready to turn right at a stoplight when a funeral procession crossed in front of me. When my light turned green, the people in the procession stopped, and I was pretty sure they were supposed to keep going, even through a red light. My problem was, the procession was going down a four lane road, completely taking up one lane, but leaving the other empty.

I turned.


But it felt really weird driving next to the people with their flashing lights the policeman up front. Oncoming traffic was stopping, even though their was a middle lane. The police car did stop at several red lights, and it seemed to be following me for miles. I almost wanted to roll my window down when I was stopped next to the cop to ask what I was supposed to do. I do not remember from driver's ed what the rules are, and I don't come across them very often.

I think I should have let the whole procession go and stayed at the light, from what I can gather from the internet. Each state has different laws and talks about what people IN the procession should do: proceed through lights until the police car stops. Nothing told me what I should have done.

One person said that it is the last way we can pay respect to the dead and their families, and I get that. I do. And in the moment I was thinking about getting to where I was going. It did feel weird to pass the hearse, but there was a car behind me that was going really fast and I didn't want to stop in front of them. I feel bad about it, but wondered if anyone really knew the rules, or if there were laws governing it.

something I'm curious about

As we returned to school this year, the staff took a few moments to share some moments from the summer. It turns out that several of the teachers got engaged and had sparkly new engagement rings to show off. I don't know why, but I always want to know, "Did he pick it out himself, or did you go together?"

This is my engagement ring. Yes, I know it looks like an anniversary band. Yes, I went with him and picked it out.

Here's the story. Charlie and I dated for exactly three weeks before we talked about getting married. We just knew. It was right. The romantic proposal came later, because we had practical things to work out...when would we get married? When was my lease up? Where would we live? Lots of questions that needed to be answered, before he actually proposed. We had this talk in November, and he came home with me at Christmas to talk with my mom, since my father had already passed away. He proposed in January, officially, with ring in hand, limo at the ready, champagne toast with friends and dinner later. It was special and perfect. It was a surprise.

The ring was not a surprise. When my father died, my inheritance was a diamond from his wedding ring. My brothers wanted me to have it, and wanted my future fiancee to get it from my mom. My mom was so happy to give it to him for me, and I was thrilled to have a piece of my dad as part of my marriage. It was a painful thing for me to get married without him there, but the fact that I have his diamond is really special to me.

And I was specific. I am not one who likes a solitaire on a band. It just isn't the look I like, no offense to anyone else. And because I inherited the round diamond from my dad, I wanted part of it to be from Charlie, so we designed the ring to add pear shaped diamonds on each side. We went together and designed it. I love it.

Here's what I am curious about: how many of you just let your man decide? Did you give him hints or send him in a direction, saying, "I like platinum and square diamonds" and let it go from there? Or did you point to a ring and say, "that one, please." Did you shop together a little bit, and then let him go back and pick it out? Was the proposal a total surprise, or did you know it was coming? I am totally curious to know if anyone was completely knocked off their feet by a proposal they had no earthly idea was coming.

I'm not sure what it says about me that I went with him. Does it say I am too controlling, or that I don't trust him to know what I would like? Charlie said he'd rather I come, so I would get what I wanted, than have to fake enthusiasm for a ring I really didn't like. He wanted me to love it, and to be happy that my father's diamond was part of it. Some things I might not be so choosy about, but the ring is on my finger everyday.

Oh, and each person I asked said they let their husband pick it out, after giving a couple of hints. One of my unmarried friends said she wouldn't care if her engagement ring was purple and blinked, as long as she had one. I think she'll change her mind about that eventually, but it's good to know that people are flexible. This was one thing I just didn't want to leave up to him. Charlie's taste is completely different from mine. Completely. So we did it together, and I had so much fun with him in that jewelry store. It was one of the most fun shopping trips, ever.

So, tell me your story. Share your proposal and your ring story. Share the love, ladies.

Oh, and taking this photo was pretty interesting. I did it in low light, and to get more light I lit a tea light candle and slid it pretty close, using the macro setting. The rocks are from some vase in the living room, and this is on a TV tray we use as a little end table sometimes. I meant to take it earlier, when I had some natural light, but it didn't happen. It's pro photography people!

how things are

It's summertime and I spend most of that time recharging for the school year. But this summer was supposed to be different. This summer was supposed to be my first season as a mother, but that turned out not to be the case. And I think I am still mourning from that loss, but ignoring it at the same time, trying to move past it.


Over the past few days I have talked with several friends about how I am good at drawing lines in my life. You know, the lines you won't cross. The deal breakers. The non-negotiable things. I draw those lines because I am selfish about my emotions, my time, my body.

Specifically, we were talking about relationships, and how I drew lines and made choices to protect myself. For example, I didn't have sex until I got married, and that was a line I drew, mostly because that was part of my faith, but also because I felt my emotions and body were precious. Intimacy is just that: intimate. Why share those things with someone I haven't connected with on every other level? When dating, I was up front about my beliefs early on and the few men I dated knew my boundaries. If they weren't okay with my lines, they were shown the door before I even was too far invested. Emotionally. But the lines don't just exist in romantic relationships, they exist in my friendships as well. And I've always thought I was happy in my little box, and I drew a box around my sadness and pushed it aside.

I wonder, though, if my lines, my boxes, my deal breakers kept me from experiencing life more fully. Would I have learned more about the world and about myself if I'd pushed past the lines? Of would I have just gotten myself hurt? If I'd been more flexible, what would that have looked like? Would I have been more popular, more respected, more something? And is more necessarily better? I don't know the answers to these questions.

All I know is that I don't want to be rigid. Even keeled? Yes. But rely so much on my little box that I can't allow for new experiences? No. Maybe there's a place for growth here. Maybe there's a chance for me to redraw my lines, and allow for more freedom and joy. Maybe I don't have to hold back with people when they don't measure up to my expectations.

Maybe this is a ramble and you won't relate to any of it. Maybe my lines and boundaries are my thing and not no one else does this. But if you do relate...comment. I would love to hear your thoughts.

Queen of the Indoors speaks again

I have called myself the Queen of the Indoors before, and it's not because I am so awesome decorator or design houses or anything like that. It's because my nature is more inside oriented, and I think it is because I just don't like to sweat (that really is a whole other post.) I love plants, but I don't really like to garden. I love manicured lawns and great landscaping, but I don't want to DO it. I want to want to do it, but it just isn't me.

And, our overgrown, looks like Vietnam in the backyard with all the bamboo growing, looks like a forest in the front with all the random trees, and has grass in some places and in others it is worn through to dirt from running dogs. We have years of work in front of us, but that really isn't the theme of this post.

This post is about what I like in my yard, and I like this.

And this.

The ivy picture I took on a day when we were washing our cars and the plants got wet. The water droplets just looked so inviting, that I ran inside and got my camera. The purple hosta flowers are sprouting up around our patio, in what I would have to say is one of the strangest places the previous owners could have planted plants. Right in a walkway. It's odd, but the flowers caught my eye and the camera came out again.

Isn't it great when we can find beauty in the middle of all the chaos? Our yard needs so much attention, and it really isn't my thing, but I can totally appreciate the small pockets of loveliness in my 1/4 acre of grass.

And, come on, this also makes me love my new camera even more.

hair trauma

I know you have missed me this week, but between packing up my classroom at school so they could clean, and living through some hair trauma, I am finally getting around to posting.

This is a recent picture of my "before" hair. This was taken in November, but my hair really hadn't changed that much since then. I'd had it cut and highlighted in April, but it pretty much looked like this. Okay, got it?


This was the cut I was going for, below. I'd had my hair cut last year before going to Florida for my brother's wedding and it was really cute. I remember thinking that it was SHORT, compared to what I had, but I really liked it, and I liked the highlights. Charlie really likes my hair with highlights because he says it gives it definition. I'm okay with them. I actually really like my boring brown hair color.


I askedy mom, who cut and highlighted my hair in April, to come and cut it again on Wednesday night, and things went horribly wrong. So wrong. The box said to start the highlights 1/4 of an inch from your scalp, since the heat from your head would make them blonder. That was not good advice. Also, the box included two different brushes, one that looked like a mascara wand, and another one. The mascara one is the one that got me, I think, because it coated such large chunks of hair. AS SOON as we washed it out, we knew it looked bad. It was so blond. And in such weird chunks, especially on my left side. And that quarter inch thing? Yeah, it gave me brown roots. Yup.

So I took a deep breath, and just told mom that I would die over it the next day with my friend Laura who was coming and has colored my hair before. Bad, brassy, chunky, looks like I'm trailer trash, highlight problem solved. So I showed my mom the picture of the hair cut I was going for and she starts cutting. And cutting. And cutting.

This is my hair on Thursday morning, after wetting it. It does not show the horrible highlights as horrible as they really were cause my hair was wet. In fact, I sent a photo on my phone to Laura, and she called back to say, "it's not that bad." And then when she showed up an hour later and it was dry, she said "holy ....." Get it? It was bad.

So we went to lunch and Target and I bought a box of hair color called "Brown Sugar" to color over the highlights and Laura helped me. Now my hair is reddish brown, which is not my natural color, but is way better than the trailer trash highlights.

Um, and notice how short my hair is. Does that cut look like the one I was going for? Um, no. I am still getting used to it. Charlie likes it, he says, and people keep telling me it is cute, but I think it makes me look old.

I'm not used to my curls being quite so fluffy either, and not having hair that can be put in a ponytail. I think I will love it when it grows out about an inch longer, or so, and I guess having short hair in the summer isn't the worst thing in the world, right? It should be cooler, I guess.

So this is the story of my hair trauma...I hoped you got a good laugh. And I have to admit this isn't the worst thing that has ever happened to my hair. The very first time I got highlights, in a salon, no less, they were white zebra stripes in my hair, when I asked for caramel highlights. And I had to wait three days for the salon to fix them, because the girl who ruined them had to be the one to fix them. I asked them why they thought I would want that girl to EVER touch my hair again, but that was their policy, unless I wanted to pay someone to fix them. Uh, no. I felt like I should have been given a refund on that disaster, but she fixed it. Then, as they grew out, I had to keep coloring over them, cause I would have blond streaks starting at my chin. Lesson learned, dye washes out, but bleach has to be grown out and cut off.

Had enough, yet? I will leave you now and go and wash this hair that now only takes about a pea sized amount of shampoo. One bonus, I guess, is that I will save money on products. Yeah, lets look on the bright side, shall we?

indoors and outdoors

Some dogs prefer the bamboo shoots that grow in the backyard, ripping and tearing them down.


Tugging and pulling.

Breaking and chewing.

Some dogs prefer to lay under my legs and cuddle.

To each her own.

I can do these small things

We all know there are stores we like to go into and ones that we'd rather have our toenails pulled off than darken the doorway. And the stores we like, we frequent. Me? I'm a Target-TJMaxx-Barnes and Nobles-PotteryBarn-Michael's-Harris Teeter kind of girl, and I pretty much still with those favorites. I branch out here and there for specific things, but those are the ones I keep going back to. Now mind you, I hardly ever BUY anything in Pottery Barn, but it's my happy place.

But I was thinking about it today when I was grocery shopping...do those stores like me too? Are they happy to see me coming? I think so. And here's why. I am a respectful shopper. And maybe this counts as just being a respectful human being in general, but I was really thinking about it in terms of retail. And if YOU'VE ever worked retail, you appreciate the customer that takes an extra moment and helps you out.

Some examples (I know you want some):

1. I use the IN door on the way IN, and the OUT door on the way OUT. Now, I am starting you small, but it's simple. I hate it when the traffic is going the opposite way. This is why the doors are labeled, people. This also applies to aisles: it's like traffic. You walk on the right hand side.
2. I try to bring in a cart from the outside. Most of you moms already know this trick, since you park near the cart return to put your small children right into a cart. But if you can bring in one from the outside, that's one less that they have to bring inside. Again, I know someone gets paid to do this, and some store have those electronic pusher things, but I inevitably see some small teenage girl trying to push in 45 carts.
3. If I pick something up and then later decide I don't want it, I either give it to the cashier or take it back. I do not stick my bananas in with the canned goods, or stick frozen waffles in with the tampons to sit there and defrost. Yes, I KNOW someone will come around and put them back in the right place, but if the waffles have already defrosted, then yuck. That's food wasted. When I worked at Michael's during Christmas, this was always a huge problem, especially since that store carries such small items. We'd find things everywhere and then spend an hour putting it all back. Oh, and in clothing stores, don't even get me started. Why people leave piles and piles of clothes that they tried on in the dressing room, instead of putting them back on the rack marked "returns" is beyond me. It's five extra steps people. I don't have room to put my purse on this shelf in here while I try on a pair of jeans because you were too lazy to put something back. You don't have to take it all the way back to where you picked it up...just to that rack.
4. If I break it, spill it, knock it over, or crack it, I let someone know. The employees will want to clean it up now, instead of waiting until seventeen carts have tracked through that grape jelly you spilled. Or that black stain you knocked over. I promise you, they want to get it now.
5. If the sign says "have your money ready" then HAVE YOUR MONEY READY. Did you not know you were going through a drive-thru? Come on, I'm in a hurry too! That's why I didn't go inside.
6. Yes, cashiers get paid to stand there and take your money, but they always appreciate nice customers. Aren't you glad when you get a nice cashier? The same is true in reverse...they'll be happy they had such a nice customer. And if you are nice, then it's easy to ask if they can bag your bananas separately from your squash.

I know that there are people that get paid to take care of most of this stuff, but in this economy where companies are laying people off, and 10 people are doing the work of 15, I can help out a little. I can. It takes very little time, and it may go unnoticed, but I feel good when I am respectful of other people's time as well. If you've worked in a store, or a restaurant then you know of what I write.

Living our lives thinking of others is an accessible goal. Serving others. I can do these small things.

I can do these small things.

I just gotta say

Did you know that Melissa, whom the Bachelor Jason Mesnick, dumped uncerimoniously on national TV last night, had been a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader?

I kept thinking that I had seen her somewhere before and now I know it's from the Making the Dallas Cowboy's Cheerleaders show on CMT. She looked so familiar, and now I know why.

But, um, can you believe that Jason sent her away?

There has been so much written and said about this season of the Bachelor, and I know I'm not going to have such a unique perspective when I say that the show doesn't really set the couples up for long term romance. Can you imagine marrying someone that you have only, maybe, gone out with 6 or 7 times? And many of those were group dates that didn't allow for any serious conversation. And they aren't exactly building a strong foundation when they are pulled out of reality and put in those romantic and unrealistic situations. No one has to get up early for work the next day. No one has family problems, work problems, money problems, in this world. There aren't dirty clothes piling up in the corner, no groceries to run and get, no cramps or tampons, no sour milk in the fridge and no dog that needs to be walked.

How can two people be expected to form any kind of long term attachment when the whole show is not set up for monogamy. If Jason had trouble choosing between two such great girls, then it's because the show set him up to fall in love twice.

Now, don't me wrong. I know these people signed up for this and they understand what may happen. And that they may be totally humiliated on national TV. I get that. And I watch it, like millions of other people.

But I understand. That. These. Are. Real. People. People are messy and make mistakes and have good intentions and want love. They aren't actors in a movie. It's not scripted. The producer doesn't decide that it should have really been Jillian he kept and sent Molly home. And as much as I watch and enjoy the whole drama of it all, I know that most of it is for entertainment, not for real, deep, everlasting love. Not the way it's arranged.

So, I'll keep watching (because I have a secret crush on Chris Harrison) and I will hope that another couple can find some kind of real relationship. And another rose.

my umbrella is still missing

It's the end of a very long week and I have been under a heavy load. My mind is burdened with things that need to be done, and I am slowly checking them off. One by one.

I am still in a funk. I am in need of grace and mercy and healing. I need to be lifted up. I need to curl up in my bed and sleep, but the rest does not come. I need tissues with lotion.

I apologize that this is short and depressing. It depresses me even more right now and I hate that too. Ugh, vicious cycle.

works for me wednesday

Okay, so it took me three tries to spell "wednesday" in the title, so you can tell what kind of day it is. I am tired. I am gearing up for Christmas shopping and I am tired. Already.

But I love these. They aren't new or flashy, but they make life worth living. I honestly avoided my crockpot before these babies.



I love them, and know many of you do too. How can you not? And how can they not have invented these before...oh, wait, they did. They are the SAME EXACT thing as the turkey bags for your oven! If you can't find the liners, you can use those. It works, I've tried it.

Happy Wednesday. Only 7 more days until winter break.

brought to you by the letter V

I haven't ever been particularly political. While I aspire to be a patriotic American, I fall short of really knowing my issues, candidates and bills. I know the basics, but I don't really delve deeply into the views of the particular parties or candidates. I read a little bit, I watch a little Jon Stewart, a little Tina Fey and some CNN.

But I don't really talk about it all that much. I don't get the bumper stickers or the yard signs and I don't rush to the primaries. Maybe you might label me as apathetic, but I do my part. I vote. I support charities. I pay my taxes.

But, I don't bring my views to work. I don't sit around at lunch and talk about how stupid the other candidate might be. I don't trash the other party.

Here's why:

You never know who's sitting in that room. You don't. At all. I don't know who's reading this blog. I can imagine that there are people out there that support both parties and both candidates. And here's a news flash...THAT'S OK!

It's ok that you might want to vote for the other guy. THAT IS YOUR RIGHT. As an American. That's why there are TWO candidates...so we have a choice who we want to run our country.

I try to be respectful of other people's views and beliefs, and even if I disagree, it really isn't my place to attempt to change their minds. Not at my job. Sure, if I have someone over to my house and we're talking politics, I might take a minute to point out some things, but that's in the safety of my house. In the relative public arena of my teacher's lounge, I feel that room isn't the place to broadcast my political views. I don't want to get into it with my co-workers. I have too much to do at work to sit around and debate the election.

So, whatever your choice is, I respect it. I'm just sayin'. And you may choose to write about it on your blog, but I will not be telling you who I am voting for. That's my business. And your vote is your business.

Ok, off the soapbox now.

I have cheated, and I'm not proud

Can I just say that I normally hate Walmart and I don't shop there much. Not much at all. I don't like the bad lighting and the crowds and the odd selection of stuff they stock. I like a SuperWalmart alright...one with a McDonald's ain't half bad. But even then, we have to drive 40 minutes to a nice one and I don't have the time, the inclination, or the gas. Plus, my friendly neighborhood Target is three minutes away.



Then my Mom moved to town. From a town that only had a Walmart. And she needs her Walmart fix every now and then and she took me with her last week.



Look what I found.



Cute plaid pajama pants. With a satin ribbon. For $10.



Now, these were hidden amongst a big rack of nothing special. And they were the coolest things I saw the whole trip, but they are soft and cute and I bought a black shirt to go with them. I love them.



Am I a convert? No.



I will continue to be happy with my well-lit, cheerily decorated, slightly more expensive but better quality Target around the corner. As it is, I feel like I have cheated on Target by showing you all these flannel pants, but they are so cute. I had to. I did also show you my pink plaid flip flops from Target, so I guess my conscience is clear.



It feels so good to un-burden.

what a moment...

I admit it...a man standing in the rain outside a rest stop proposing to his girlfriend...took my breath away. The damp kiss. The huge smiles. What a moment.

A made for tv moment. I know, I know. These people aren't real.

But Jim and Pam are wonderful and engaged and I'm so happy. I love them like I love Twilight, Pride and Prejudice and a man with a British accent. Sigh.

I love the Office.

today is september 11th

You know, I almost skipped right by today. Really. I just looked at the date and realized what today is and was.

I remember, as we all do, what I was doing. I was teaching high school and a former student walked in to visit me and she said that there had been a plane crash. The news had just reported it and that the plane had hit a building. We didn't think much of it. I just kept teaching.

Then our principal came over the loudspeaker and told us that something important and scary was going on, and that he believed it was important for us to turn on our TVs and watch. And we did. I turned on in time to see the second plane hit the towers. And to see them fall. And to see confused looks on my kids' faces as they attempted to process this.

And to hear all the cellphones start ringing.

Many kids left early that day. Parents gathered and took their babies home. We watched the news all day, having discussions with our kids. Using this terrible attack as an authentic learning moment.

My life was not touched like other lives were touched. I did not lose a loved one or my job. But I remember and I ache for those who did.

So, if this day skipped right by you, too, take a moment and remember. Think back to where you were. Honor those who were lost by giving them a minute of your time.

It's Patriots Day.

big girl clothes

I think many of you know I am losing weight. Now this summer, I didn't really try very hard, but I haven't gained any weight back from the weight I lost this spring. I have lost 15 pounds and I feel really good about it.

Until I try to buy clothes.

Let's just say that I am still in the big girl section. And we all know the BG section is way smaller than the average girl section. There is so much less to choose from. Luckily, I can get away with buying XL tops from the regular sizes and I just have to get my pants from the BG section. And that's what I was looking for: brown pants.

I wanted some nice, dressier brown pants. I wasn't looking for cotton khakish brown pants that I would have to iron everytime I wear them. I wanted wide leg dressy brown pants. Not too much to ask for, right?

I DID NOT want brown pants that taper at the ankle, thus making me look bigger. I did not want pants with a grandma elastic waste. I did not want pants that did not have pockets.

I went to two stores and could not find anything. I had been in the mood to shop and then it was just so frustrating. I almost wanted to cry. There are miles and miles of regular girl racks, and the BG section is tiny. One turn around it and you've seen everything there is to see.

Let me throw this out to designers. If such a large percentage of America is overweight, then why aren't you trying to make some money off them? If anything, I would think a big girl is going to spend more time trying to look nice, because it takes more effort to hide the things we want to hide.

I only have two more sizes to go and then I can begin looking for all my clothes in the average section. That means about 15 more pounds to go. And I know I can do it. But I wanted to look nice while I was doing it.

I wanted some chocolate brown pants since I shouldn't eat the chocolate.

pounding ...in stereo

Today is not a good day to have a headache. Which I do...have a headache. I want to lay in bed and hide my head, but it is not quiet here.

This is what is happening at the house behind us. Our neighbors are having a new roof installed. Actually, many of our neighbors have new roofs due to the hailstorm a couple months back, that had really sharp hail. It damaged a lot of older roofs, and thereforewhatever, there are many bang, bang, bangs, to be heard around here. But on a holiday, come on!

I guess I need to cut them a little slack, cause this is my house. We are getting new gutter guard thingies and if I knew the technical name I might loose my title as Queen of the Indoors. So the husband and a friend are pounding on my roof.

And then there's the radio that my husband has outside, with nonstop sports talk. And you'd think my husband is deaf the way he has it cranked up.

And then there's Lucy, who is barking at the roofers and the gutterers and anyone who walks past.

Pound, pound.

In my head and all around it, too.

Pound, pound, football this, baseball that, bark, bark, growl, pound, "ouch, " pound, pound.

Advil.

UPDATE: this morning (tuesday) I woke up and my neighbor across the street has roofers on her roof as well. This is the one time I can thank God I actually have to go to work.

Wow...what a day that was....

Who knew I was so funny? I mean, I think I am funny in person, but I wasn't sure I was funny in print. Most of you gals that have kid stories have such better things to write about, so I was nervous about my posts. But, I am glad to report that I tickled a few funny bones and impressed a few readers with my lovely hail photography. And I am happy to report that I am still the reigning "Queen of the Indoors." No one tried to steal my title or my crown. Which I polish each night, people. As I watch tv. And read. And eat popcorn.

Yes, Mom is quite the riot. She was proud that you all wanted her to come over and help you. And I am not ashamed of my fear of the staple gun, or my love of my glue gun. We all have our things, and these are mine. My eccentricities, if you will allow. And I know you will.

So, thanks for stopping in and getting to know me a little. And thanks for all the compliments on my blog design. I think my designer is already booked through this year, but her link is down on my sidebar if anyone is interested. She is awesome as you may have already guessed and she won an award for my blog design.

And yes, I do leave the dog hair on my floor for more days than is probably good. I love a good tiramisu, although my diet does not. That bio is certainly me.

If you come back on Saturday, I will show you the FABULOUS present I got my mom for her birthday. You will want it. So bad.

And if any of you want to know Lula's secret...too bad. I ain't telling. No way. I am keeping it all to myself.

speak, Lucy

I have no great wisdom to impart today. I am tired. School wore me out and sleeping in this morning was like a gift. So today's post is full of random tidbits.


Here is my Lusy trying to talk to me. She really does have a pretty good vocabulary of moans and sounds that convey something. She is a very vocal dog.
We went to the movies last night and I got the big tub of popcorn. Yup, the refillable kind of tub. I ate some and then dumped it out and got more on my way out. Then I came home and put it in gallon ziploc bags. It filled two gallons. Two gallons of movie theatre popcorn. Heaven.

I ate cannellini beans last night for dinner. With tortilla chips and slices of cheddar cheese. It was the most random things and they were in the fridge and I didn't have to cook them, just heat them in the microwave.

I wanted to participate in the Nester's Mistreatment post, but it wouldn't work for me, (stupid computers) so I missed out. Em, please tell her I am sad that I missed it.

The Olympics are almost over, but synchronized swimming is on today. I will be on the couch, with my movie theatre popcorn, cheering our team on to victory. Swimming with makeup and music? Sounds like so much fun to me.

My mom is still in my house and still looking around with her realtor. It's taking a long time but I know she will find something good. Her birthday is coming up and I have to shop for a gift. I think I will get her some earrings. She is always looking at silver earrings, so maybe I can find some good ones.

Lucy is asleep at my feet while I type. Such devotion.

They used a Christian worship song on an episode of Scrubs that my sweetie DVRed. We wouldn't have noticed if the close caption hadn't been on for my mom and "Jesus" popped up on the screen. Then we rewound and listened to the lyrics, and it was a Kutlass song called "All of the Words." Good stuff.

Random enough for you? Love me through it people.

so many hats

Many of you know that I am a librarian...but here are some other titles I have worn this week:

• copier repair woman
• laminator repair and refill
• amateur therapist
• carpool captain
• tour guide
• chef
• masseuse
• announcer
• fashion model
• daughter
• wife
• friend
• party planner
• couch potato
• chauffeur

My life sounds like fun, right? It's been a busy week and the student come bright and early tomorrow. It has also been a fun week and I am slowly getting myself geared up for what is to come in the next couple of weeks:exhaustion and satisfaction of a job well done.

Now that I am back in school, my posts may be further apart and I may not get around to visit you all as much as I would like to. I'll miss you and promise to try to catch up on weekends.

one sided

Here is a post I wrote months ago when I was hurting over a friendship that wasn't going my way. I wrote it in the heat of the moment, and then decided not to publish it right then. Well, that particular emotion has passed, but I thought I would share the lesson I learned in the hopes that others can learn too.


Dear Friend,

I have noticed that I am always the one who makes the move. I invite you. I send you a card. I want to be involved in your life. I take the time to call you if I see something you might like. I think of you as a friend I can confide in and share my secrets. My pains. My hurts and my successes. I want to share my big moments with you, and my little ones too.



You don't see me that way, do you?



You don't invite me. You don't include me much. You listen, but you don't share. You aren't interested in the daily aspects of my life. When we talk, I think you disconnect sometimes and it hurts. You don't really initiate anything. Sometimes I get a glimpse that you enjoy our relationship, but then it is gone. I have a glimmer of hope that we really connected, and then I get disappointed when I am not included in the next thing.



Maybe I should just let you go. Maybe it might hurt for a little bit that you can live without my friendship, but I might feel better in the long run if I don't get my feelings hurt all the time. Maybe I am just too sensitive, and your life is busy, and I just don't fit in.



So I'll pray about it and let God lead me to a decision.



Your friend,

Sissy



Did you ever have a friend(s) that made you feel like that? That you really weren't on their radar and it didn't matter if you called, or came by, or had a banner written in the sky? Someone you may have gotten to know and thought it was great, but time really showed how different you were?



I feel like that sometimes.



It isn't my favorite feeling.



Have you ever done it to someone else? Pressed "ignore" on your cellphone when you saw their name come up? Made excuses and planned other things, or were unavailable for when they wanted to meet you somewhere?



That isn't nice either.



So here's what I decided. That friend that I don't do much with...the one that keeps calling? She WANTS to spend time with me. She wants to talk to me. She wants to be involved in my life. She is the one excited to hear my voice when I do call and she is the one who asks me to do things.



That's the girl I need to appreciate. She's interested in being my friend.



And that's not to say the other one(s) isn't. Interested, I mean. But I don't need to worry my heart over someone who clearly isn't available for the deep, meaningful friendship that I want. She isn't in that place. And that isn't wrong, or mean.



It just is.



Women and friendships can be hard. We all want to be wanted. By this group, or that group, or the pretty girls, or the best bloggers, or our husband's family. It gets to be so important, but it's impossible to maintain all those relationships to a meaningful level. You have to have priorities, and that's ok. But I guess the realization I just came to was that one-sided relationships really aren't healthy. I want more than a friend can give, but someone wants that same thing from me. So I can choose to put my energy in a place that won't yield anything, or in a place that is hungry for my particular brand of sunshine.



And I think you should too.



I think you should take stock of those people in your life that are really asking for attention. They may need it for a reason that you just don't know. And show them some love.


Instead of reaching for someone that isn't available, give to someone that is there and asking.


Girls tend to make us feel like this, and I am ready for it to stop. I am ready to stop doing it to others. I guess that was the biggest lesson for me. I was hurting over some people ignoring me, and then realized that I can be just like that sometimes. And if I want to break the cycle, I need to be a big girl, and wear my big-girl pants, and move on.



I don't need to have the biggest group of friends.



I need to have the BEST group of friends.