October 30, 2003
Bloggone It!
I know my blog has been acting real ditzy lately- sometimes half of the page loads, sometimes none of it-- argh. Josiah informs me that we're changing servers in the next few days, so we should be back to normal soon. Just wanted to pass that along.
Thanks for hanging in there!
October 29, 2003
The Note That Changed My Life
I felt sorry for Preston. He sat in front of me in the third grade and he consistently made the grievous sin of being messy. Mrs. Parker couldn't tolerate sloppiness, and Preston was definately that. True, when it was time to turn in assignments, he had to rummage through his desk for ages, and I'm sure Mrs. Parker was irritated by the delay. His desk was crammed full of old homework, lunch bags, and other odd assortments of things. When he finally did find his paper, it was crumpled and had a pickle stain on it.
Mrs. Parker was a short, no-nonsense kind of teacher, and always reminded me of a pit bull. If she had gotten a hold of you, it was not likely that you'd get turned loose again. I remember Preston cringing, and often missing recess because Mrs. Parker said he must clean out that abominable desk. Poor Preston.
Watching him, I never wanted to draw Mrs. Parker's attention or disapproval to me. I was extra careful and followed her instructions as closely as possible. However, I was finding it increasingly difficult to see the things she wrote on the chalk board. I was afraid to tell her, and I would squint and ask people around me what she had written. One day, as the class was filing out for recess, Mrs. Parker called me to her desk. I was sure I was in trouble for talking and I prepared my skinny self for the worst.
"Are you having trouble seeing the board, Ms. White?" Mrs. Parker asked. Note to grown-ups, using a child's last name is a highly effective way to scare the crap out of them. I swallowed.
"I guess, I mean, I don't know?" I was nervous. Was I in trouble?
"I want you to take this note home to your mom," said Mrs. Parker, and placing a note in my bag, she ushered me back out to join my classmates on the playground.
A note from your teacher is never a good thing. And they're always smart, they staple it, or tape it, and there's no telling what's in it, no chance to prepare yourself for the worst. I knew it had something to do with whether I could see the board or not, but in my third grade brain, it seemed like there was still a possibility that I was in trouble for something.
So, with the note tucked carefully in my bag, I had the rest of the day to sweat it out.
Well, my fears were fortunately unfounded, and the note was only a suggestion to have my eyes checked. Mom took me that week, and as was suspected, my vision was poor. I proceeded to pick out the biggest, squarest, purplest pair in the store. They were ready a few days later, and with great anticipation, we picked them up.
This is the real point of the story.
The day I got my glasses was the first epiphany of my life.
Who knew you could actually see the leaves on a tree? Each excrutiatingly detailed leaf waved at me as we drove home from the doctors office.
Who knew you could see each rock of the gravel in our driveway? I looked down at my feet as they crunched over the thousands of rocks leading to our doorstep.
Who knew you could see the pastors face in church as he preached? I marveled at the expressions and intensity as he spoke and the fists he made as he emphatically pounded the podium.
Who knew you could see the wings on the birds as they flew over, or the unique shapes the clouds formed in the sky, or the clumps of clover that grew on the hill beside our house? I was dizzy with what I could see.
Who knew? I had lived the first eight years of my life assuming that everyone saw like I did. I had no idea of the detail I was missing, I was blissfully unaware, until that moment, the stylishly large glasses slid onto my nose, and my world changed.
It was almost like a right of passage. Seeing the world like it truly was, I felt priviliged and awed.
Few moments in life have equaled that instant. The kind of moment that sucks the breath out of your lungs, and you know that life will never be the same again.
I find the application of that moment as one of the greatest lessons I've learned in life. I relive it, and I am so grateful for the impairment, just for the sake of the revelation. The revelation that sometimes you think you see everything- you live your whole life thinking others see the same things you do, and then, in an instant, your eyes are opened to a whole new reality, a whole new depth.
One more thing.
With my lovely new glasses, I could see the chalk board. I could see each word, follow each lesson. I could also see Mrs. Parker. I realized, she smiled a lot more than I thought she did. She even smiled at Preston and his pickle stains sometimes.
It was a beautiful epiphany, any way you look at it.
Pun intended.
October 27, 2003
Monday's Random Thought
Finally, some chilly weather down here in southern Lousiana. Whenever the first real cold snap hits, I am overcome with the urge to do several things. First, I want to make a big pot of slow-cooked chili. While that's bubbling aromatically on the stove, I find my comfy sweatpants. While I'm in the closet, I do a sweater check, and see how I'm set for winter clothes. I pop in one of my oldie-but-goodie cds like the Cranberries, and I light a candle. I think, mmm... some banana nut bread would be great, so I get that started. Then, when I'm surrounded by delicious smells, comfy clothes, and good music, I curl up with a big, long, epic size book.
That's the beginning of winter for me. I like the idea of hibernating in my cubbyhole, coming out when the mood suits me. It's a lovely thing.
Well, I'm off for now. I'll write more, after I get through a few chapters... I'm reading Terry Goodkind's Naked Empire, which by the way, is not about naked people.
TTFN.
October 24, 2003
I've Really Got to Get A Hold of Myself
Next week, I promise more serious topics than drinking games, icecream, and my Stupid moments. Really. Back to good quality blogging. No more senseless rambling. Only the hard-hitting, quality issues that my trusted readers have come to expect from me here at APOG. No more funny business.
Oh crap, I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't do it...
Wait. Calm down. Okay, I've got a plan. I'll just link to some CNN article and then you guys will all respect me again.
Crisis averted. Whew.
Drinky the Drunk Guy
I was doing a little research on drinking games (purely academic, of course) and wow. Who knew there were so many ways to inebriate yourself with a deck of cards, a quarter, and a shot glass? Thank you, United Frat Boys of America. You've served your purpose well.
Aw, shoot. I forgot my mom reads this thing.
Well come on, man, it's a Friday!
October 23, 2003
Meme: When You've Got Nothing Else To Say
Yes, I know, memes are the lazy man's blog entry, but sometimes, you need a break from all that brain stuff. Here's a new one I found, Thursday Thumb-Twiddler. (A classic game for the activity-impaired)
1. If you could have the*original* of anything, what would you want? Would you keep it for yourself, or would you share it with others? I would want something that belonged to an ancestor of mine: letters, bibles, jewelry, something really old and important in my family history. I sound like the Chief of Nerds, but that's what I'd like. Leave me alone. Or, maybe the original trillion dollar bill. That would be nice, too.
2. If you could carve your name in stone anywhere, where would it be? If I say Stonehenge, everybody would just freak out, wouldn't you? "Oh, not Stonehenge, you monster! It's one of the Seven Wonders of the blah blah blah..." Like *Stonehenge is all that great. Harumph. Actually, I'd feel bad carving my name into something, that's just the way my momma raised me
3. If you had a personal valet or maid who would perform one task for you each day, what would that task be? Would that be a good thing to have, or a bad thing? I would have them do the Laundry. Yes, that's a capital L. (You haven't seen this Laundry, it demands uppercase respect!) And yes, that would be a very, very good thing. No, wait, could they give foot massages? Scratch the laundry. I'll take the massage.
And now, if you, like me, having nothing better to say or do with your time, please feel free to twiddle your thumbs as well.
*::Despite current speculation, I do not, nor have I ever, had a grudge against Stonehenge.::
October 22, 2003
Doh!
Sometimes I wonder about myself. I drive the same car every day, an automatic. So, why do I occasionally reach down to put it in gear like a standard?! Or why do I try to flip the light switch on the wrong wall in a room I GREW UP IN? I am not generally a spacy person, I guess my brain just takes two second vacations occasionally.
I remember as a kid, thinking how cool it would be to have a birthday on Friday the 13th. I started counting back the years and days to see if that had ever happened to me. I even enlisted the help of my mother, who only laughed at me. "You were born on the eleventh". I knew that. I really did. I just... I dunno.
In the early years of being married, and getting to know Patrick's family, a game of Trivial Pursuit sticks out in my mind. I had to read a question about baseball, and I COULD NOT get past a particular word. I knew it couldn't be right, but for the life of me, I couldn't think of another way to pronounce it. Mis-hit, came out Miss Shit. Oh they had a good laugh at me over that one.
I guess we all have a Stupid Moment every now and then. Don't we? Hopefully? Feel free to post. Really. I won't laugh. Honestly.
October 21, 2003
Are We Done Talking About the Matrix? Oh. Well Then.
I suppose I am officially the last person to see the Matrix Reloaded. We rented it tonight, and I have to say, I thought it was great. I guess I'll have to go back through everybody's archives to read what they thought cause they ACTUALLY WENT TO THE THEATRE TO SEE IT. I'm so jealous.
And as another update, I finished Harry Potter IV, so I'm almost caught up on that, too.
Whew. Could you guys PLEASE wait up? Sheesh! My legs are shorter than yours!
Sugar Makes Me Silly
I wanna start a Ben & Jerry's Peanut Butter Cup Icecream Fan Club. I will be the President, and you can be the Vice President. I'll make us some stationary and we can send secret messages in a special code we make up. You can spend the night at my house on Friday night and we'll write a song and make up a dance and record ourselves with my dad's video camera.
My mom can call yours and you can just ride the bus home with me.
::Okay, I'm better. I just overdosed on the sugar, I think. Sweet fancy moses, to quote Aaron. That's some good stuff!::
October 20, 2003
Taking Out the Garbage
I guess I lull myself into a false sense of security on this blog. I forget that there are disgusting people out there with access to every word I write here. I had a rude reminder of that just a little while ago when some jerk posted something very nasty, with a link to a horrendous website. I know it was some derelict who wandered in off the streets - I knew that would happen eventually, but it was still a shock. For those of you who might have seen it before I had a chance to delete it, I apologize. But, the trash is out now. Hopefully I won't have to deal with it again for a while. It stank!
When Angels Get Old
Oh, Farrah. What have you done to your self? You should have gone out gracefully, it would have been okay with us! You had a good run, you were gorgeous! Sigh. I sincerely hope that aging isn't so traumatic that I will do anything to preserve my youth.
I'm 28, and I'm just beginning to understand the complexities of aging. I would say in the mid twenties, you begin to notice little things that are different about your appearance. It starts to dawn on you that, hey, you're not going to look like this forever. It's nothing that's totally freaked me out, but who's to say that in ten years, I will be as cool about it as I am now? I recognize that in an industry where your looks are your number one asset (as a general rule), aging for a woman must be a nightmare. If your entire self worth is defined by how you look, every line and wrinkle is a declaration of war. But this doesn't just apply to women in Hollywood. Women everywhere define themselves by their looks, and subject themselves to extraordinary measures to fight the ravages of time. They usually end up with eyebrows that won't rise, cheeks that can't crease, and a mouth that won't open all the way. Wearing this stationary mask of perfection - it erases the truthfulness of living. They condemn themselves to a single, emotional response for the rest of their lives, all to escape a few laugh lines and gray hairs.
I'm not being critical of taking care of your body, or making improvements in yourself. I'm not saying plastic surgery is wrong. I am simply saying that we need to have a realistic view of growing old. We need to stop seeing it as such a negative factor, to be fought at all costs. There is no medical procedure that will stop the clock. No amount of surgery will stall time forever. We all pass that bloom of youth. Somehow, we have to come to terms with that, and find the value in life that goes beyond the surface. We always hear the phrase, "looks aren't everything". I think it's time we start believing that.
I say this, hopefully, to prepare myself for the eventuality. I hope that I have the guts to be honest about myself as I get older. I pray that when I am eighty, I am confident and happy and proud. I don't want to be fighting for my youth at that age. I want to be content to know that those days are passed, content to find my self worth in something deeper than my skin. I want to look down and see my eighty year old hand, and not think, oh, how ugly and sad. I want to look instead and see the hand that held babies, that folded clothes, that wiped tears, that planted flowers, that wrote love letters, that LIVED.
If it shakes a little, that's okay with me.
I am eighty after all.
:::
Manic Monday
First business of the day: a plug for my pal, Charisa, who just wrote an all around fantastic post on her blog, Life Through My Eyes. I love to find the blogs of individuals I don't know, and leave feeling like I really "get" them. Charisa is one of those people. She's such a talented writer, and when I need a pick-me-up, I know I can find it in Charisa's words. Go. Read.
October 16, 2003
Until Next Time
It's a short blogging week for me, gang. We are headed out of town for a few days to take care of some family business. I'll be back on Monday. It's okay to cry. Let it all out.
Now, don't you feel better?
::UPDATE: Business Concluded. Now, back to the party!!::
October 15, 2003
Season's Greetings, Suckers!
Well, it's that time of the year again. What, Halloween, you ask? No. Oh, okay- Thanksgiving then? Nope. Keep going. Christmas, you ask with wide eyes? Yes. It's Christmas. Merry Christmas everybody. I know it's only the middle of October, but I dragged out all the decorations, put up a tree, shopped for and wrapped all the gifts, and I'm wearing my Santa hat. I'm also singing Jingle Bells all the time. Cause it's Christmas.
Honestly, Christmas comes earlier and earlier every year! What's the dizzle, my pizzle? Wal-Mart almost pees it's pants to get the decorations up, and I'm still reeling from Columbus Day!
The LEAST they could do is wait for a cold snap! I don't want to buy mittens and scarfs for my loved ones while I'm still wearing a T-shirt and flip flops. It just ain't right, people.
::On a side note: I am about 65% done with my Christmas shopping. I guess I'm one of those consumers swayed by the premature decorations. I hate myself.::
Junking for Fun
I am the Queen of Spraypainting Things Black. We go to thrift stores and buy old ugly frames and other knick knacks, and with a nice, glossy coat of paint, it turns into an awesome thingamajig. There, my decorating secret is out.
But seriously, there are few things in this world more fun to me than rummaging through junk stores, flea markets, antique stores, garage sales, whatever. I have a list of things in my head that people I know collect, so I always have something to look for. And if I find something I like, but doesn't match my stuff, well, you know what I do.
When I discovered Ebay, I was thrilled. I spent hours window shopping, amazed at the variety of stuff I could find. I would get up early in the morning before work so I could browse. But, it doesn't replace the fun of the hunt. It's too easy. You don't really have to work for it. But it's a nice, quick fix, and that's satisfying in it's own way.
I tell you what I really want to do, is the 450 Mile Yard Sale. That sounds insane. One day, I'm going to rent a little u-haul, and do this thing.
Well, that's it for today. No witty quips, no nostalgia, just something to read! My apologies!
October 14, 2003
Signs: Part I
I love the good natured corniness of church signs. I picture a little old church secretary wobbling up on a ladder arranging the new slogan for the week... I can see her all excited to get the reaction from the church members for her latest creation. I, for one, love that lady. She cracks me up. Of course, she looks and acts strikingly similar to Dana Carvey's ChurchLady. Anyway, here are a few of her greatest hits:
God accepts Knee-Mail!
Down in the mouth? Have a Faith Lift!
Hot outside? Come on in, our church is "Prayer Conditioned"
What's missing in chch? U R!
Wal-Mart's not the only saving place. (MY FAVE)
Heavenly Forecast: Jesus will REIGN forever.
Having truth decay? Brush up on your Bible here!
Read the Bible, it will scare the Hell out of you!
Come and Meet at my house before the Game... God
I know Amy & Aaron know a few more cause we've talked about some in Monroe. Please add to the list if you know of a good one!
:::Stay Tuned For: Signs, Part II -Beauty Shops:::
October 13, 2003
Another Brilliant Observation
I was out of town this weekend, and as I drove through the Mississippi/Lousiana border, I drove through a town called Miss-Lou, a clever little combo, don't ya think? Kind of like Texarkana...
All the shops were called "Miss-Lou's Bakery", "Miss-Lou's Hair Palace", etc. I imagine a sweet old lady called Miss Lou owning all these places. A rich lady. Well, maybe not too rich, it was a little town. But still.
However, I think a better name for the town would be Lou-Ippi. It's really fun to say. Go ahead, try it. Lou-Ippi.
Anywho- I'll write more later. Just wanted to share that fascinating thought with you.
October 10, 2003
LoTR Movie Schedule
Okay folks, the list is here, and Baton Rouge is the place to be for the LoTR Marathon on Dec. 16th! Who's with me??
October 09, 2003
HONK IF YOU LOVE CREEKS
My mom was a big proponent of "playing outside". My sister and I swear that after breakfast, she'd open the door and shoo us out and CLICK, the door was locked. For the rest of the day, we drank from the waterhose if we got thirsty, there'd be some sandwiches set out on the porch at lunchtime, and I guess we came in if we had to pee. Sorry Mom. The truth comes out.
But, I wouldn't change it even if I could. We loved being outside, especially down at the creek. I remember standing poised with a paper cup for countless hours trying to catch the little minnows that swam in the water. The rare moment that we actually caught one, we ran home and showed Mom (through the screendoor) and then... well... we let it go, I guess. Wow. Guess we weren't very productive as kids.
Then, there was always the fun of trying to dam up the creek. Why? I don't know- it just seemed like a good idea. We'd spend all day working on it, toting rocks and sand and mud. When it was done, there was much rejoicing. Success! And then, glorious destruction- we'd gleefully watch the water pour over the dam back onto it's normal path. A whole afternoon spent in such amusement.
Sometimes the creek was scary though. I remember once, looking into a hole on the creek wall, and to my absolute utter shock, seeing eyes staring back at me. I screamed and ran for about half a mile, I'm sure. I suppose it was a snake, and I steered clear of the creek for a few days after that.
Anyway, I wasn't trying to get nostalgic, just thinking out loud about one of the fun aspects of my childhood. Did any of you guys grow up near a creek, with similar stories?
October 08, 2003
Rubber Chicken
Someone, please explain to me the hilarity of the Rubber Chicken. I mean, I laugh when I see one, but I just don't know why. And I really, really wanna know.
This picture is just screaming for a caption. Somebody. Anybody. You there, say something funny.
October 07, 2003
Divisions
Today, I find myself very discouraged about the divisions in the Church. We spend so much effort identifying and clarifying our differences, defending and attacking this belief or that. I guess it's rather niave of me to say, "Can't we just all get along?" But I wish we could. I wish it didn't bother me so much to witness the ridicule and bitiness we Christians are capable of, but it does. It's so much worse when the blow comes from someone you consider a brother. I'm not portraying myself as a victim here, I know I can get caught up in it, too. I'm just weary of it. The Church needs to be a safe place to go, a shelter from the turmoil outside. It's not just another battleground, and we forget that too often.
It depresses me.
GO GO POWER RANGERS
Not quite as glamorous as I'd have wanted, but I guess I could be the Pink Ranger. Somebody has to save the universe every Saturday morning, might as well be me! (via Jeep)
Power Rangers Movie!
What movie Do you Belong in?(many different outcomes!)
brought to you by Quizilla
October 06, 2003
The Haunting of Templates Past
I'm seeing the ghost of my purple/white stylesheet-- but that happened last time I changed my template and it eventually sorted itself out, so I'll give it a little while. The old template just has to come to terms with the fact that it's been replaced... DEAL, OLD TEMPLATE. You had your time, now let the new generation have a chance!!
October 05, 2003
I'd Hate to Be This Dog
It's been a while since I've written about My Crazy Neighbor, she's been a tad aloof since the Peanut Butter Incident. She did give me a little blog material this afternoon, however, as she was calling her dogs inside. I notice this about once a week- she lets her dogs out of the apartment every day to let them do their dirty business (which is EVERYWHERE by the freaking way). When it's time to call them, she doesn't do it like a normal human being, "Here Poochie, Poochie, time to come in". Oh no. She lets loose this ungodly scream like a banshee that reverberates through the neighborhood. It's insane. NOBODY calls their dog like this. It's the kind of scream you would give when someone is about to be hit by a runaway 18 wheeler: the kind you reserve for emergencies, and extreme tragedy. So she's in a frothing fit, gnashing her teeth, ripping her hair, screeching at the top of her lungs, and of course the dog doesn't come. He knows she's a maniac, I know she's a maniac, the whole NEIGHBORHOOD knows she's a maniac.
Run, little dog, and don't look back! Run as fast as your - oh wait. She caught you again. Dangit. Sorry bout that.
Keep trying, Boy.
October 04, 2003
Giving My Blog a Little TLC
I have gotten into the habit of using the Chattablogs homepage as my blogroll, and as a result, have neglected my own on this page. So, I'm working on that, plus probably making some template changes over the next few days. Remain calm. My apologies if this page looks like crapioli for a few days.
October 03, 2003
I Link, Therefore I Am.
It's been a while since I did an all out linkathon, and that's just not right. So allow me to make it up to you.
The neatest mouse trick on the net. Cool.
When celebrities prank call, it's not a pretty thing. But it's very, very funny. (tip: start with Arnold calling Gateway)
Argh, I'm the Dirty Charity Kidd. What be your pirate name, ye mangy curr?
Are you insane? Yes. Yes, I am.
Where would you rather live?
a) Boring, MA.
b) Yeehaw Junction, Fla.
c) Baldbutte MO.
d) any of the other places listed on this site
I KNEW the Chinese were out to get me! My fortune cookie just proved it.
And finally, testing the US Postal Service: will they let you mail a can of soup? a coconut? a dollar bill?
That's all, folks. Have a terrific weekend!
October 02, 2003
Sugar Shock
"Twinkie" is already a fairly cute word. But, leave it to a preschooler to take it just a little bit further. Wrenn has trouble with the "tw" sounds, so it comes out "winkie" instead. The result is an irrestistable urge to be ridiculously indulgent.
"Momma, can I have a winkie for breakfast?"
"Sure, sweetie. Here, wash it down with your Coke, and finish eating that snickers bar so we can go play outside."
(Okay, so I didn't say that, but wouldn't I be the coolest mom if I did? I'd also be the STUPIDEST mom)
A Night Breeze
I find great pleasure in falling asleep with the window open on a cool night. I like the muted night noises, the soft pealing of the catholic church bells, the street noise that reminds me that not all of the world is asleep. I like to watch the gentle movement of the curtains in the breeze and breathe in the refreshing and unprocessed air that swirls around the room. I love enjoying something in it's natural form, unchanged and perfect just the way it is. It's pure, and cold, and makes you snuggle further into your quilts, makes you snuggle closer to whatever or whomever is warm.
That's a nice feeling.
Unhand that Cake, You Fiend
"She wants to have her cake, and eat it, too."
Well, duh. Why wouldn't I want to eat it? I don't want it for it's pretty looks, or it's ability to make me laugh. I wanna eat it. Gimme.
