For today. . .

So I stole this from my friend Crystal at That’s What I Said . . . who stole it from

Amber and the Simple Woman’s Daybook.

Outside my window… darkness. And my car. Hopefully locked, unlike it was last night.

I am thinking… that staying at home instead of rushing to get somewhere after one of the world’s longest days was a good idea.

I am thankful for… my life in general. For my family, my friends near and far, sweet words that are a balm to my soul, my dog, my nephew, that I get to live in Nashville, have hot water whenever I want it, and that my mama made sure I knew how to cook.

I am wearing… what I wore to work out in. A Final Four T-shirt featuring the Texas Longhorns from 2003 when the game was played in New Orleans and somebody gave my brother tickets, black yoga pants, my Nike running socks, and my worn-out running shoes.

I am remembering… my grandpa. He died when I was 13 and I still miss him.

I am going… to eat those Sour Patch Kids in the bowl on my coffee table. And tomorrow, I’ll go to work and choir rehearsal.
I am reading… a Jodi Picoult book, a book called Midwives, and the Bible per usual. Today, I got the desire to reread Persuasion by Jane Austen and Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.

I am hoping… for a lot of things. Sometimes, I fear putting them into words for fear they won’t happen and somehow that might make it hurt less.

On my mind… my friend Brandy, my family and some issues related to my grandma and the farm, my nephew, and somehow getting ahead in my work so that I’m not hurrying and overwhelmed all the time.

From the learning rooms… I’m sure this prompt has something to do with something I know nothing about . . . but I’m learning that coffee reheated from this morning’s brew is not very good.

Noticing that… I feel more relaxed and at peace when I take the time to cook.

Pondering these words… “Keep on dreaming even if it breaks your heart” from Will Hoge’s song “Even if it breaks your heart.”

From the kitchen… I cooked chicken breasts in pesto sauce in the crock pot all day, then boiled up some pasta, tossed it all together and added some parmesan. It was good!
Around the house… I need to do the laundry and vacuum and dust.

One of my favorite things… is coffee in a big white mug at a coffee house where talking is optional. Fido’s is one of my favorites, except it’s always a bit too crowded.

From my picture journal…

I have good friends.

 

We’ve got a problem. . .

Guys, there’s a big problem a-brewin’ over on Facebook. (You know you all love FB. Stop denying and just embrace.)

Well, I guess calling it a problem isn’t really the right terminology. It’s more like a disease or an infection. And it’s spreading fast.

You ask: What IS she talking about?

I’m talking about Status Update Overload. Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You all see these updates in your Live Feed (or whatever it’s called now) and you keep on scrolling. There the ones that take up a significant amount of space on your home page and annoy you to no end (well, at least annoy me).

In my mind, there are two kinds of Status Update Overload offenders. First are the TMI Status Overloaders. These people just tell you way more than you wanted to know in their status updates. They share about the minutia of their lives, including what and when they ate (which is sometimes newsworthy if it’s something AMAZING, but this quickly becomes overload when people share it every day. Because that’s not news. Everybody eats dinner. At least I’d like to think so). These people might tell you too much about their relationships with significant others or overshare in other ways. The point is that TMI oversharers simply say too much for the public forum that we often forget Facebook is.

The second kind of Status Overload offender are those who have been to a concert/conference/church service or read a book/watched a movie/TV show and just have to quote something to you. OK, that’s fine if it’s a few phrases or a couple of sentences. It’s just not OK if it’s an entire paragraph. Yes, I understand you want to share what you’ve learned and you’ve just heard something amazingly astounding that rocked your world and made you think another way. I understand that. But blog about it. The concept of a status update is that you share what you’re up to. The idea is a short description or thought, not an entire block of text that takes up half of your profile page. I understand that these people want to inspire or encourage or inform, but when your status update goes past two sentences, it’s no longer a status update; it’s a Facebook note or a blog post.

The key, my friends, to a good Facebook status update is the key to good journalism: say what you need to say to get the point across and nothing more. Brevity and conciseness should still be valued.

You don’t have to agree with me, but I’m willing to bet you scroll right past some of those Dostoevsky-long status updates. You just won’t admit it!

 

At the end of the day

Night has fallen in southeast Missouri. I’m leaving for Tennessee tomorrow, after lunch and a visit to my grandma in the nursing home. Soon, I’ll go to sleep in the room that was mine as a child, though the furniture is different and living in that room seems like a lifetime ago.

I’m sad to be leaving. Sad to not see my nephew’s smiles every day, to talk with my mom, and laugh at something completely silly, lame, and dad-joke-ish my dad says. I’ll miss my brother.

But I also miss Nashville. I’m a tiny bit homesick for my house and my street, for the noise of the city, and the voices of my friends. I love that city and count it a blessing I get to live there. I miss my church and even my work, even though that may be more the friendships I’ve built with the people I work with.

I love it here, and I’ll be sad to watch “home” fade away in the rearview mirror tomorrow, but I also love my life in Nashville. And I’m a tiny bit excited to be going back home.

Sometimes, you get lucky enough to have two “homes”: the one who made you who you are and the one your heart calls home.

I’ll see you tomorrow, Nashville. And I love you, Bernie, and I always will.

 

In days of yore

When I was little, I really wanted curly hair.

You don’t understand, I REALLY wanted curly hair.

I had long, straight hair and thought it was the most boring thing I’d ever seen. It didn’t matter that people often were astounded by my hair, were always touching it unbidden, and I was once chased down a hallway at a nursing home by an old lady in a wheelchair because she wanted to see my hair. (Actually, that terrified me. I was about 7, maybe, and I’m not a big fan of nursing homes to this day.) Check out this pic of me on Christmas morning as a child. (You should be aware my hair is a bit of a mess being Christmas morning and I was all about those Cabbage Patch Kids.)

The point is that I have nice hair, especially then. It was long and straight and I didn’t have to do anything to it to make it straight. And even today, my hair is healthy, strong, shiny. People comment on it when I’m getting a haircut. But still, it’s straight.

And I wanted curly hair. Girls with curly hair just seemed so beautiful. And this was the 80s, so perms were big and every girl I saw had curly-ish hair. But I wanted those natural bouncy curls. Pink sponge rollers only left my hair limp and damp, since you were supposed to put the rollers in while your hair was wet, sleep on them (?!), and take them out to reveal dry, bouncy curls the next day. That never happened to me. Hot rollers worked, but the curls would fall out within an hour, usually. Curls seemed elusive unless I got a perm, and I was about 5, so that surely wasn’t happening.

Then, one day, my dad told me (jokingly) that if you drank the fizz on sodas it would make your hair curly. Finally, the thing I’d been looking for! But have you ever tried to drink just the fizz on sodas? Um, yeah, you have to be fast. You have to down some of it immediately after the pour, which is all we ever got because drinking a whole soda yourself was not allowed. At least when Mom was around. Grandma Ruby, well, that was a different story.

So, for years, there I was trying to drink fizz in sodas and anxiously awaiting the day when it would finally work. I was a little disappointed when it didn’t. And heartbroken when I figured out that had just been one of my dad’s jokes.

The moral of this story? I really don’t know. I was reminded of it when I was getting ready for work today and put my hair into a ponytail. I know it’s not the best look for me. I’ve seen my pictures from Boston. But I don’t care today! Ahem. . .anyway, there I was at 31, getting ready for work, thinking how cool it would be if my hair had just a touch of curl.

I guess the moral is that there’s a part of us that always wants what we don’t have. But the adult in me knows the truth: the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. So, be thankful for what you have today. Even if you’d still like your hair to be curly. . . just once in awhile.

 

A letter on your first birthday

Today,  my nephew turns one year old. This being a rather momentous occasion, I felt a letter was in order. And you have to read it. Well, you don’t have to, but you can. If you choose to.

Dear Nephew:
Today’s your first birthday! It probably doesn’t seem like a big deal to you, but to those of us who eagerly awaited your birth, it’s hard to believe that a year has already passed. It’s hard to believe that you’re crawling (in your own weird way) and jabbering and doing all that growing up and becoming a little man rather than a baby. It still takes all I have not to scoop you up and kiss your chubby cheeks every time I see you. I know that at some point, all that hugging and kissing is going to become completely uncool, so I’m taking my chances now.

I prayed for you this morning, Little Man. I prayed and thanked God for you. I prayed that you would recognize your need for a Savior early on in life and that you would commit your life to Jesus, letting Him be both your Savior and Lord, the One who has absolute control of your life. I prayed that God would burn the memory of that experience into your mind, just as He did in mine, so that when the doubts and hard times come (and they will), you would remember and stand strong. I prayed that you would grow in maturity and faith, and that you wouldn’t face the obstacles and fears your aunt has faced. But even as I prayed that, I knew that obstacles and spiritual battles would come, some of them the same ones I’ve faced, some of them different, and I prayed for God’s strength to be upon you. I prayed that you would grow into a godly man who wasn’t afraid to love. I prayed that you would know how much I love you. I prayed that you, above all else, would love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength. I prayed that you would trust in the Lord and lean not on your understanding. I prayed and thanked God for the sheer wonder and blessing that I get to be your aunt. Whatever happens in life, I want you to understand this: there is a God and He loves you very much—too much to let you stay the way you are.

You were born on a Wednesday. I spent all day calling your Grammy and Pa Pa, even your daddy. I wanted to know what you looked like in your first moments, what you did, how your daddy looked when he first saw you. But you took your time in getting here. You were born right after 7 p.m. I was in choir rehearsal at my church when your Grammy called to tell me. Taking the call made me late for rehearsal and the choir director (a friend) teased me about it. I told him you’d just been born and he announced it to that room full of people. And they cheered. Let that sink in: a room full of people you don’t know and may never meet celebrated your birth. That’s because they understood some things I hope you come to understand: that you are a gift from God; that you are made in God’s very image; that you are dearly loved; and that life is sacred and should be celebrated.

I met you the day you came home from the hospital. I drove to Missouri just so I could meet you and waited impatiently for your parents to bring you to me. They stopped at your Grammy and Pa Pa’s before even going to your house! And when I held you in my arms that first time, I was overjoyed. And I knew for a fact that you were one of God’s greatest blessings. I whispered those words into your ears then and I say them again now, even though now you’re capable of throwing screaming temper tantrums . . .

On Sunday, we’ll celebrate your first birthday with a big ol’ party. Being one, it’s likely you won’t remember any of it. But someday, I know you’ll look back at the pictures of the day. Yes, you’ll laugh at the pictures of you with cake all over your face. You’ll wonder what your mom was thinking when she dressed you in those clothes, then you’ll look at the rest of us and wonder about our fashion sense, too—and we had a choice! You’ll laugh at the hairstyles, ponder how young we all look, and wonder if you had fun. It’s likely that you’ll see people in those pictures you don’t know or can’t remember. And that’s OK. Ask your parents and they’ll tell the stories of the people who have loved you throughout the generations—stories of faith, hope, love, perseverance, and hard work. When you look at those pictures of your first birthday, it’s my hope you realize how much you’re loved and how happy we are you’re here.

Because there are people in this world who will never know that kind of love. There are people who have never heard anyone say that it’s good they’re in the world. May the love you’ve been shown help you to live a life that shines with unselfish love for those people.

Oh, Little Man, you are loved. Now, forever, and always. And when your dad starts getting on your nerves, come talk to me. I have some stories to tell you!

Love,
Your Aunt Mandy

P.S.: Let’s review some things I’ve been teaching you: You hate the Yankees. What’s the proper response when someone mentions the Cubs, Kansas Jayhawks, and/or Dexter Bearcats? BOO! What are your favorite cheers? Go, Cards! and M-I-Z-Z-O-U! You can choose your own NFL team to love because your aunt has no preferences at the moment. But your daddy says he’s a Saints fan.

 

Dispatches

Oh, yes! It’s Wednesday. The work week is on the downward swing—and your day is made better by a little “Dispatches.” Yes, it is. Stop shaking your head. Yes, IT is!

Or at least that’s what I like to believe.

Oh, well. Even if it isn’t, it’s all you’re getting today. So deal with it!

• File this one under “Terribly random, strange things that make life wonderful and weird”: When I take the interstate to work (which is all the time lately, because I’m always running late), my least favorite stretch of road is the portion of interstate near downtown where I-65 and I-40 merge together. You have people coming from I-40 merging to your right and to make it worse, there are exits coming up that people on I-65 are trying to get into the exit lane for, which is only compounded by the fact that all the merging traffic is driving in those lanes because there’s nowhere else for them to go. I particularly hate this section of road because I’m one of the people on I-65 who need to get into the exit lanes and it’s always a little like playing Frogger to do so. Today, when I looked into the lane on my right to see if I could get over, there was a red truck there. No big deal, right? The driver and I made eye contact. And he made a kissy face at me. A KISSY face. For reals. And seriously, does that EVER work for him? For the sake of women and self-respect everywhere, I hope not!

• My house is always cold. ALWAYS. Part of that is because I’m cheap and don’t turn up the heat as high as I’d like because I don’t want to pay for it. Part of it is because my condo is built on a slab and has laminate and ceramic tile on the bottom floor and that doesn’t lead to warm floors. I also turn down my heat at night because I like to snuggle up in blankets and tend to sleep better when it’s cooler in the room. But I do have a little heater in my room I use to make it slighlty more comfortable. But last night, before turning in, I had also turned it WAY down. So when I woke up this morning and it was 35 degrees outside, it was pretty chilly in the house. And all I could think about was how I wished there was a way to mentally turn up the heat before getting out of bed. I guess I need one of those electronic thermastats you can program to do such things.

• Tomorrow is my nephew’s first birthday! Can you believe it? Me, neither. The big celebration is on Sunday afternoon, which means I’m going to Missouri this weekend, because Aunt Mandy has to be at the celebration. I’m not leaving until Saturday morning, though, (I’m going to a play Friday night) and I’ll come back on Monday, which I have requested as a vacation day.

• I will go on the record as saying that I love having Google mail powering our e-mail at work. So. Much. Better. Than. Lotus. Notes. SO MUCH BETTER!

• I am weighing—wait for it—being a cheerleading coach for Upward Basketball at church. This is a big decision because I am aware that I often say yes to things, then get overwhelmed and too busy. So, by saying yes to this, I’ll be saying no to being involved in some other things. I’m still thinking and praying on it, but I do think it could be fun and a fun way to work with kids at church and reach out to the community. Plus, I could do cartwheels and toe touch jumps and not be stared at, which is what happens when you’re 31 and do these things in random social settings. Believe me, I know.

And with that note of weirdness and me sort of making myself look strange, I’ll end today’s post. Have beautiful Wednesdays! Make a decision to make today a good day and stick to it, even when the crazy starts happening. Because it will.

•

 

Let me add that to my list

I make lists.

Lots of them. Lists of goals to meet at work that day or week. Lists of groceries and things I need to buy and/or am running out of at home. Mental lists of chores that need to happen, places I’m supposed to be, gifts I need to buy.

Take Saturday, for example. As I was leaving Tim’s house after the 2009 Tim Henning Spring Hill Fun Run Invitational, I started making a mental list of what needed to happen the rest of the day.
1. Stop at Kroger and fill up car with gas.
2. Once home, take off muddy shoes before walking through living room.
3. Put muddy pants and jacket straight into the washer.
4. Take a long, hot shower.
5. Start cooking chicken for soup you want to make.
6. Start laundry and dishwasher.
7. Change sheets on bed.
8. Dry hair.
9. Straighten, dust, do floors in living room.
10. Dust bedroom and vacuum.

As you can see, sometimes the whole “I-make-lists” things gets me in trouble. I start trying to do too many things at once. I plan too much into one day, hour, or week. And you’ll be happy to know that Saturday’s list kind of stopped at #8. Because that’s when I got really tired and had to sit, then lie, then take a nap on my couch. I will remind you that I ran a 10K that morning!

Lately, I’ve been feeling beaten up and worn down by all the things I’ve said I would do, places I’d be, tasks I could take on. Most of them are good things, but even too many good things can become overwhelming. I’m tired, I had a headache that lasted two days at least, and I’ve learned there’s no shame in not doing everything.

So, I’m learning to say NO more often.

Please don’t be offended if I say it to you. It probably has nothing to do with you and everything to do with recognizing the signs of exhaustion in myself and making the commitment to rest. I feel selfish in writing that, but the truth is, I’m no good to anybody if I’m so tired I can’t think straight. Which was the case yesterday when I basically just told someone at work, “I can’t reason today. So, I can’t make decisions.”

So, I’m adding “rest more often” to my list. No, wait. I’m not even going to make a list!

 

 

 

To whom it may concern

It’s been awhile since I’ve written letters, but my sarcastic, pet-peevey self has been coming out to play lately. So, get ready for some cynical sarcasm.

Dear “Encourager” Lady:
I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and believe that when you shouted “you can do it!” from the window of your heated SUV as you drove past me during the Tim Henning Spring Hill Fun Run Invitational (2009). But after shouting it, you started laughing uproariously, then rolled up your windows and sped away. And really, I wanted to force you to get out of your car and run the dumb race with me. Because I’d just jumped over a dead snake and was running in wet grass in 50-something degree weather. It wasn’t fun, but I was being physically active. Your encouragement may have been well intentioned, but I just wanted to throw some mud or maybe that snake at you. And I don’t like snakes.
A grumpy runner

Dear Drivers:
I don’t know what the deal is, but lately, when I’m not on the interstate, I always get behind the can’t-drive-a-constant-speed-slam-on-the-brakes-at-the-drop-of-a-hat drivers. And I’m just going to be frank: I don’t like you. You make me angry. You make me call you stupid. And that’s really not the kind of person I am. Not in general anyway, just when I’m behind you. It’s just that stop and go really isn’t my thing. And I hate having to pick all of the contents of my purse up out of the front floorboard of my car. So if you could just learn about driving a constant speed and how easing off the gas pedal before you need to stop helps to avoid slamming on the brakes, I’d greatly appreciate it.
Trying to get road rage under control

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Dear Headache:
I don’t know what caused you. Friends have suggested the weather change and dehydration. I figure it’s some of both. But you’ve overstayed your welcome. I’d really appreciate it if you simply walked right out of my life. When I woke up this morning and you were STILL around, I moved past anger to pure hatred. Leave, just leave. You said what you had to say, now leave. You don’t even have to say good-bye.
Here’s to hoping you’re gone soon,
Mandy

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Dear velvet blazer:
I love you. I love you. I love you. I mean really, really love you. You made my Monday morning slightly brighter in purple velvety happy way. You make me feel fashionable, cute, and warm. And I love you. I will wear you until you wear out and then mourn you for the rest of my life. Because there will never be another velvet blazer like you.
Believing George Costanza was right about wearing velvet,
Mandy

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Dear Stuff Christians Like Blogger:
You are awesome. And witty. And make me laugh out loud. But your post on a problem that is plaguing America, the Super V, was AMAZING. Thank you for dealing with this problem head-on. Because as I’ve often written in my diatribes against my beloved Andy Davis’ V-necks, I don’t need to see that much chest. Really. It’s just not OK.
Against the Super V with all my heart,
Mandy

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Dear guitarist at church,
You made my day yesterday. You didn’t have to say anything to me, and you chose to and it completely lifted my mood. (See earlier letter to my headache.) See, I didn’t feel too beautiful yesterday, but then as I was leaving church, you said: “You were a very pretty princess last night. I figure you got the crown from all the beauty pageants.” Aww. Of course, the reason I have a tiara has nothing to do with beauty pageants or being voted some sort of queen in high school, but rather complaining SO much about wanting a tiara that someone finally just bought me one, but you didn’t know that. And you thought I was pretty! From someone who has spent most of her life not believing that, your words were sweet. I know my worth isn’t tied up in my physical appearance (now, not in high school though) and that physical beauty is fleeting and temporary, but still, when someone blesses you with the gift of words like that, it feels good. So, thank you. I just hope that I am cultivating inner beauty, too, because that is what’s pleasing to God. And as an aside, continue with your crazy guitar riffs during services. I love them. Other people don’t, but everybody doesn’t have to like everything.
Thanking you for kind words and feeling beautiful,
Mandy

 

Good things

As this week draws toa close (thank goodness!), I’m feeling the need to list some of the good things that have been happening in my life. Because this week, guys, hasn’t been the best week of my life. Regardless, good things have been afoot.

Good thing #1: Last night was my last night of the Thursday night women’s Bible study for church. And I have loved this study and gotten a lot out of it and dearly love and feel connected to this group of women, but the past few weeks have been a bit crazy for me. I’ve had commitments every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, plus extra things that came up. One week I had something every night, worked late every day, and nearly killed myself trying to keep all my commitments. While I realize some people thrive on busy lifestyles, I don’t. I require time spent at home just relaxing and recharging. I don’t mean I want or need to spend every minute of my life sitting at home alone, but I do need time where I’m not rushing to be somewhere.

Good thing #2: Earlier this week, a friend from college who went to grad school here and now lives back in Columbia, Mo., texted me to tell me her little sister and her boyfriend had bought season tickets to Vandy men’s basketball games and were only going to use the UK tickets. She wanted to know if I wanted to buy some of them. So, um, yeah! I’m buying three pairs of tickets from them: 12/2 when Mizzou plays Vandy (my alma maters in a battle against each other! It will be the first time I’ve seen MU play in person since I saw them play Memphis at Memphis in 2003 or so), the LSU game in February, and the South Carolina game at the beginning of March. I’m trying to get my mom or dad to come with me to the Mizzou game, but that may or may not happen due to their responsibilities at church. (I am skipping choir. I never skip choir and don’t plan to do it again anytime soon, so please don’t make me feel more guilty than I already do.) If you live here and want to go to either of the other games with me, let me know. First dibs have gone to Mindy, but she’s got to work out some technical difficulties first.

Good thing #3: My work email is now powered by GMail. It’s. So. Awesome. And I can use Google chat to talk with coworkers whose offices are kind of far away.

Good thing #4: I’m running a 10K tomorrow and am actually excited about it. Everyone also give Blog Friend Scott your best wishes, as he’s running a HALF MARATHON tomorrow, too. Sadly, he’ll probably finish his half marathon before I finish my 10K.

Good thing #5: It’s Friday. ‘Nuf said.

Good thing #6: I actually got to work on time today. That hasn’t happened in a long time. You don’t need to point out that my hair wasn’t actually all the way dry because really, I didn’t care what my hair looked like this morning. ‘

Good thing #7: I got my tickets for Andrew Peterson’s Christmas show. I am SO happy I’m getting to go again. I went last year after a long string of not being able to go and had a wonderful time. This year, I’ll see it with my friend Janice and her husband. Janice is one of the people who first told me about AP, so I’m eternally grateful!

Have a good Friday, readers. Make it special and take time to celebrate the good things. And then have a good weekend. You deserve it!

 

A picture says a thousand words

Because I’m pretty much uncreative this morning and can think of nothing astounding (as if my regular posts are astounding in any way!), today I decided to make you look at pictures. From my Flickr site. You’re just going to have to suck it up and deal with it if that makes you unhappy, because it’s what you’re getting today. And as my momma used to say at meal times, you better just take what you’ve been given and be happy with it.

And if there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s not to make the cook mad. Or in this case the blogger. (But that would mean that you actually want/need/crave reading my blog and I’m not quite sure I’ve reached that blogger status.) And as a sidenote: something else I’ve learned is that if you want to make your mom mad quickly, roll your eyes at her. That worked every time in high school. And apparently I still have an eye-rolling problem, since I got “reprimanded” for it in choir rehearsal last night. . . .

Any way, I’d like to acquaint you with some of the pictures on my Flickr site that get the most hits. And you guys can feel free to tell me why because I’m confused by why people look at these pics, being the poor photographer I am. Or, if you’re just feeling silly, write your own captions. It’s up to you.

This is the overall most looked-at picture on my Flickr site. It’s a picture of Sochi, Russia, I took when I went there that one time. And I don’t even think it’s a particularly good pic. What’s the deal?

This is the third most popular photo on my site. . .

This picture is in the top 10?! Really? I guess people think my big hair is funny, too.

It just cracks me up that this picture from my childhood makes the top 25 of most viewed photos. And if you were wondering, standing in the snow on one foot is a challenge!

This picture has enjoyed a recent influx of viewers since being posted last week. And I look like I just woke up, which I did. SCORE! (And, yes, apparently, I still have a thing for standing on one foot.)

And finally (for today) there’s this picture:

Which I happen to think is pretty dang cool, but it’s only had one measly view. ONE! I mean people have looked at the following picture I didn’t even mean (or know I was taking) of my legs and shirt last week in Boston more often than they’ve looked at the cool window shot.

Oh, well.