So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen 2009

Do you ever come to the end of a year and are unable to remember exactly what happened that year? 12 months is a lot of time... a lot of life. I think this year might best be remembered as a year where I had to make a lot of grown-up decisions. Had to do a lot of things I didn't want to do in order to get where I am eventually going. And had to trust God A LOT.
So, I am happily ending 2009 and looking forward to an exciting 2010. I'm planning to take life by storm in the New Year and live to the fullest. I have some big things in store for my blog (and my life) and I can't wait to get started.

Goodbye 2009. Hello Future.

Believing

When I was a kid, Santa came to our house in a BIG way. He was huge at our place! And the idea of ole Kris Kringle was made even bigger by my parents who encouraged my brother and I to believe. My parents never used the idea of Santa Claus as the "morality police"- I don't remember a single time when my presents were threatened by my behavior; I think my parents encouraged me to believe just to have fun and for the sake of believing.

Lately, I've noticed a lot of families are making less of a deal about Santa, for fear he might take away from Jesus. I don't have any problem with that- to each their own, and I certainly never want to highlight Santa over the true reason I celebrate Christmas morning- the birth of my Savior.

However, I don't think that the IDEA of Santa has to take away from the REALITY of Jesus. I truly feel that believing in Santa taught me how to believe. I learned early on that Santa wasn't a mind reader- the present I wanted worst of all, in my heart of hearts, wasn't always under the tree on Christmas morning. Yet, I was never disappointed by what was waiting for me under the tree. And even after I was told the awful truth about Santa, I didn't want it to be true and I doubted it for a long time. I don't ever want to purposefully make a child doubt the reality of Christ, but I also don't think that asking questions, no matter the age, is so terrible.

I realize you don't turn to my blog for insightful parenting tips (especially since I have zero children to parent), or hard hitting theological debates but if you can't express what you're thinking about on your own blog, where can you?

May your Christmas be filled with lots of love, happiness, warm and family. Most of all may it be filled with lots of belief.

From my (old school) family to yours:

My Weekend

This weekend I:

1. Ate Chinese Takeout with my BFF. And got an incredibly generic fortune (bummer).

2. Helped my mom throw her rockin' Christmas Party at the house.

3. Got a new phone.



4. Felt like a technological fool while trying to learn how to work my new phone.

5. Tried to recover from my illness (my head is still debating whether or not it wants to explode).

6. Played with my parents kittens!!

7. Made my very own Vanilla Chai Tea. Two words: Epic Fail.

8. Coughed up a lung.

9. Opened a Twitter account. (Twitter just got 47% more obnoxious).

10. Did not prepare for the coming work week.

Oh Monday. You came too soon.

Chump Change

Recently, I was leaving my apartment and saw a man outside my door. He was downstairs outside of, what I call, the security door (it takes two doors to get to my apartment- because I'm all safety conscious and whatnot). I have to say that, my apartment almost always feels safe to me, but strange men outside my door, on dark nights makes me a little nervous.

The man saw me and called out to me: "Ma'am? Could I trouble you for some gas money? I really need to get some gas and I don't have enough money."

Did I mention he was riding a bike?

Well, the man was riding a bike and as he asked me for some gas money he pedaled over to me. I wanted to explain to him that it didn't seem like his vehicle took gas, unless it was some sort of hybrid unleaded fuel that I don't know about.

Instead I gave him 58 cents and sent him pedaling on his way.

Help!

I think that my blog may have officially broken my spirit. If you know anything about the internets or how to fix my blog I need help. I can't figure out how to make my header look cute. Or at the very least how to center my words.

And here I thought that they let just anyone have a blog. But, it turns out that apparently you need to know more than how to turn on your computer before you can be successful. I'm beginning to think I need to take up a new hobby. I may have to return to the world of needlepoint. So, if anyone is still looking for Christmas presents I'm sure my new pillows will be a big hit this year. The sentiment on the pillow says "my friend stopped blogging and all I got was this ugly pillow" and they're sure to be covered in blood. Congratulations, world of technology, you win.

Left A Good Job In The City

I’m sure you’ve all been wondering what my dream job is, now that I have my Master’s.   Well, to be perfectly honest, if I could have any job in the world right now I would want to be one of Tina Turner’s backup dancers.

This is mainly because:

A) I would be able to dance wearing high heels.

B) I would get to wear a mini-skirt to work (Except- if I was Tina Turner’s backup dancer I would look good in a mini-skirt).

C) Tina Turner would be my boss. 

D) I would have some SERIOUSLY amazing dance skills.  And I would constantly be impressing people with my smooth moves.

E) At some point I would meet Oprah and she would realize that I am what her life has been missing all this time and then she would adopt me.

Except I don’t dance well.  I definitely can’t wear high heels while dancing.  And let us never forget the mini-skirt debacle of ‘03- the last time my lower thighs have seen the light of day.

But, other than that, I think I’ve presented some pretty sound logic for my new career choice.  Call me Tina.

You are 16 going on…… Wait

It's my birthday and for the life of me I can't remember what I did this past year, but I'm going to try and remember all the best parts of being 25.

1. I started my blog.  The gift that keeps on giving.

2. After an eleven year hiatus, I victoriously returned to the world of camping.  I like to refer to that as the woman vs. wild week (and by week I mean two days).

The whole crew:

With our paddles in the back of my friend Hope's Audi.  Yes.  We took an Audi camping.

3. The Ward Wedding.  What's better than seeing sweet and dear friends get married?

   

4. I was introduced to Ginger Evans.  And I can't wait to see her sweet little face.  It's sure to be a highlight from my 26th year.

5. My Mom celebrated her 5-year anniversary of being cancer free.  I love that woman.

5 good moments from a great 25th year.  There were definitely tons more of happy and wonderful moments but my brain is tired and I’m not 25 anymore so it’s now officially bedtime!

Thankful

For the beauty of the earth,
For the glory of the skies;
For the love which from our birth,
Over and around us lies;
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

For the wonder of each hour,
Of the day and of the night;
Hill and vale and tree and flow'r,
Sun and moon, and stars of light;
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

For the joy of ear and eye,
For the heart and mind's delight;
For the mystic harmony,
Linking sense to sound and sight;
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

For the joy of human love,
Brother, sister, parent, child;
Friends on Earth and friends above,
For all gentle thoughts and mild;
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

For Thy church that evermore,
Lifteth holy hands above;
Off'ring up on ev'ry shore,
Her pure sacrifice of love;
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

For the martyrs crown of light,
For Thy prophets eagle eye,
For Thy bold confessors might,
For the lips of infancy.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

For Thy virgins robes of snow,
For Thy maiden mother mild,
For Thyself, with hearts aglow,
Jesu, Victim undefiled.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

For Thyself, best Gift Divine,
To the world so freely given,
For that great, great love of Thine,
Peace on earth and joy in heaven.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

Amen.

For The Beauty of The Earth
by Folliott S. Pierpoint, 1864

Happy Thanksgiving!

Bling Blog

I’m about to show you something truly frightening.  My jewelry drawer.  Prepare yourself:

Scary, huh?

These are actually the before shots.

(Thank goodness.)

I can truthfully say that I am embarrassed it got this bad.  I truly LOVE jewelry.  It’s my thing.  But, I’m willing to confess I may have a problem with getting rid of it.  I console myself by saying that it doesn’t take up that much space (just two full drawers) and it isn’t really a big deal.  But, seriously?  This is just sad.

So, I decided to take care of business and clean house (all the sudden this blog became a really terrible reality show).  And I spread all my baubles out on my bed.

Jewelry as far as the eye can see…..

I think the reason why I have trouble getting rid of it is because you never know when you will have to go to a costume party that requires you to wear stained glass earrings…..

Or maybe it’s because I remember the time that I wore these earrings and Josh Linam told me I looked like “an Egyptian princess”.  What girl doesn’t want to feel like an Egyptian princess every day?

Anyway, here’s the finished product:

No longer an eyesore.

 

And, since I’m sure inquiring minds want to know.  I counted the pairs of earrings I had and BEFORE the overhaul, and I am sad to confess that I owned 108 pairs.  Yikes. 

After?  94.  Aren’t you proud of my sacrifice?

The Boredom Syndrome

I am about to reveal some frightening insights into my soul.

Thing #1- When I am bored I shop.
Thing #2- When I am busy I do not shop, but rewear the same clothes over and over again, wearing them into oblivion. Literally.

As you can imagine the second thing greatly exacerbates the first (Yes, I threw down exacerbates in my sentence. Suck on that). I realized this week that I only had two pairs of jeans that I like and wear and that fit. Then I realized that of those jeans, each had a growing hole. Not a hole at the cuff, that I could potentially get away with wearing at work, but at the crotch. Not appropriate. Since jeans are my favorite, I knew I needed to get to the store asap and buy some new ones.

This is where thing #1 becomes an issue. Too much time on my hands means that I start to fill that time with shopping and I now have a ton of staples that I need, which means a lot of money must be spent. I can't bring myself to confess how much money. But, let's just say.... ouch.

It's never been more apparent that I need to take up a new hobby. Preferably one that doesn't require money or ever visiting a store but that keeps me highly entertained.

Fried Felicitations

Recently I was talking with my mom and I told her that if I had to eat just ONE fried food for the rest of my life I thought I’d choose hush puppies.

Let that just sink in for a moment.

Hush puppies.

I don’t remember what we were discussing that caused me to make such a bold declaration, but I really felt it in that moment.  Never mind the world of french fries, corny dogs, fried chicken, doughnuts, fried mozzarella sticks, sopaipillas and jalapeno poppers.

But then I realized the one reason why I cannot commit to just eating the hush puppy for the rest of my life.

That reason?

The funnel cake.

(On a related note, I can’t remember a single occasion on which I ate a funnel cake that wasn’t resting on a paper plate.  I’m sure they exist but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be as good if you weren’t constantly balancing the funnel cake so that you don’t end up with powdered sugar all over your lap.)

What fried food would you choose?

What’s Next?

When I mention that I have just completed my master’s it is followed up almost instantaneously with the question, “what’s next?”.   It’s some sort of impulse, or perhaps it’s the kindest way of saying “what the heck can you even do with a Master of the Arts in Vocal Pedagogy???”. 

Well the answer to the question “what’s next?” IS (drum roll please)…

I have no idea.

And I’m not entirely comfortable with that answer.  I’m used to not having an answer, after college I couldn’t decide what to do next so I waited until I had already graduated before I finally agreed to follow God’s call to go to grad school instead of going to work.  I felt a strong sense of peace about that.  It was also a very exciting time.  A new adventure.  It felt like I was setting off on my own for the first time, (even more than moving off to college) and following my own path.

But now, two and a half years later, I feel like the time for huge life-changing adventures has passed me by.  Although I’m always game for small life-changing adventures.  And, maybe no direct command from the Lord IS a direct command.

So, if any of you have any suggestions for how a not-so-business-savvy-voice-teacher can get her ideal job (which includes over $138 being left in my bank account at the end of the month) then I’d love to hear it.  Bring on the suggestions!

Dichotomy

On Friday morning I completed my graduate studies.  In order to finish I had to sit in a room with three of my mentors/professors and answer the questions that they fired at me.  It was nerve wracking.  But, I am now (almost) officially a Master of the Arts!  There aren’t enough exclamation points in the world to convey how excited this makes me.

So, Friday morning was, arguably, the most important day in my educational and professional career and on Saturday morning I got up and baby-sat.  If this wasn’t my life I would be laughing hysterically.  I baby-sit because I love the family and I truly consider this “job” a ministry, plus the money doesn’t hurt.  Also, I realized after talking to Omar on Saturday morning that not only am I a Master of the Arts I am also a Master of Harry Potter.  He’s obsessed right now and so we spent most of the day talking about Harry.  I’m not even trying pretend like I didn’t love every second of it.

Babyz in da Hood....

Last weekend I got to see a ton of good friends. One of the many highlights was dinner with my buds Jen, Miranda and Katy.



It was a ton of fun. We got little presents for Katy and Baby V. And took some photos that are sure to make the Baby hate me when she gets here.




Case and point:



The funniest conversation of the night involved Miranda deciding to start her own Baby Halloween Clothing Company. The business plan involves starting out with just Halloween costumes that cater to the baby interested in having a super fly costume and then eventually (after her first million) branching out to give the hip baby everyday-wear.

The company name will be: Babyz in da Hood. And the piece de resistance? The company will center around her invention of the 'Baby Grill' to give that baby a little extra bling.

A feat that the 2 carat diamond studs and Flava Flav necklace just won't provide.

Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens....

These are a few of my current favorite things:

1. I'm picking out Christmas music for my students, so I am enjoying Christmas in October and getting into the Holiday Spirit a little early this year.

2. I got to see Katy and Baby V this week. Also, Katy is making PW's Homemade Cinnamon Rolls as we speak. I can't wait to hear about the outcome!

3. My Graduate Recital is in a week. The exclamation points I feel in my soul are boundless.

4. I kinda want to be this dog.

5. This week's episode of The Office.

6. These chips:

7. Pathwords. Ugh. Pathwords is a thief of my time.

8. Boots Products. They are a thief of my money.

9. Hairbows. I know that may seem odd for a 25 year old, but all I know is that when little Miss Evans arrives in the world she's gonna have bows all over her sweet little head (if I have anything to do with it). But, this bow in particular is perfect for her! I just know she'll love it.

10. Lists of 10 items. Because clearly, lists of 9 items are just ridiculous.

Have a good weekend friends!

International House of Cuisine

Because I am fancy, my dinner tonight consisted of Ramen Noodles, 4 Chicken Taquitos and a flashback to 2002.

We Interrupt Our Regular Programming...

I'll be back soon with another post on something really important like my top five favorite lip balms, but in the meantime, here's something I've been pondering lately:

Recently, I was talking with a friend and she began to tell me a story. This story involved one of our mutual friends and from the beginning I had a feeling that it was a seriously big piece of gossip. As soon as I realized this I got a feeling in the pit of my stomach. I'm ashamed to say the feeling was giddy excitement.

Do you ever get that feeling? Has that ever happened to you? Because, I have to say, it is almost always my reaction in this scenario.

I have always loved knowing secrets, and over the years, my desire to know secrets has made me good at keeping them. Or at least good at picking who I share them with. At any rate, I love being in the know and feeling included, so when someone shares an interesting tidbit I feel giddy and excited.

But, after hearing this latest story, I may be changing my mind. There is nothing exciting about families being torn apart. I do not feel giddy over the prospect of lives being ruined or friends hurting. What I feel is heartbroken. Heartbroken for my friend and for myself. That my sin is just as self-seeking and hurtful as anyone else's.

Obviously, that feeling of giddy excitement has given way to serious sadness and great humility. I see now that whatever fleeting pleasures came from this don't mean a thing when judged against the test of eternity. There is only One great hope to put our trust and faith into. Only One worth living our days for. Only He can help us to weather the storm and the quicksand of sin. God have mercy.


In HIM we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace. -Ephesians 1:7

The International Space Station and A Pirate Ship

During college my friend Katy and I worked each Sunday Night at a house church.  We ended up falling in love with the families at the church and really enjoying our time there.  But, our time here began at a very different house church.

It’s difficult to compare the two churches- one felt very hip and cool, and while the people were very nice we never really felt that we were apart of the church.  The other house church felt like home.  The people were incredibly kind and treated us like family.

One of the main differences between the two churches was locale.  I’d have to compare the first to having church in a trendy art studio where all the artists meet together to have coffee and discuss ideas.  The second is comparable to sitting around the table at your cousins house, only with better food… and sometimes company.  I was clearly not meant for the trendy art scene.  And the owners of the home where our first house church met were literally art scene people.

The room where Katy and I would teach Sunday School housed their modern art collection.  It’s a once in a lifetime thing to say to a child “No honey, leave the chair where it belongs- on the wall.”  And by ‘once in a lifetime’ I mean weekly, because that is how often we had to tell the kids those exact words.  Our school room was also home to a maze of cardboard boxes which formed “The International Space Station”.  And I’m not talking about some crummy child’s project either.  When you crawled through the space station you could look out through the windows and it would show a distant picture of earth.  They had thought of everything.  So, on top of keeping a watchful eye on the artful (and I’m guessing expensive) chairs adorning the wall we would also have to holler out “kids, get out of the international space station, it’s time for our Bible lesson”.  It’s not fun to have to crush a child’s dream of conquering space.

The most amazing part of our first house was the pirate ship that sat in the backyard.  The parents had won a raffle and their prize was a huge pirate ship (mast not included).  Probably some of my fondest memories are making those kids walk the plank and swab the decks.

Now, I know what you’re thinking…. “how could you ever leave a place where there is modern art, the international space station AND a pirate ship, that’s a trifecta?!?”  My answer is simple.  On our first night at our “home” house church they sent us back to our dorm room with half a gallon of Blue Bell Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream and two spoons.  And even though all the ice cream was gone before we made it back to our dorm, the international space station just couldn’t deliver in quite the same way.

Stories and Swine

Sometimes I go for weeks without blogging. I never mean to, it's just that one week turns into two and then I get completely overwhelmed. There are so many things I want to write about but sitting down to do it makes me nervous sometimes.
So, I am writing this post to get me over my slump and hopefully I can start writing more regularly again.
I console myself with the fact that the one of you who occasionally reads my blog gets to hear most of my stories first person, and isn't waiting on baited breath for my next post.

Story from today:
One of my students was absent and another student told me "he probably has swine flu" I looked at the teacher to laugh about it but she was like "yea, it's going around".

Oh. Muh. Gah. Not cool.
So, when I am not writing hilarious and insightful blog posts I will be checking my temperature.

Fancy Country vs. Plain Country

I was talking to my mom tonight and we were trying to decide on a location for an upcoming surprise party we are throwing. We really can't think of anywhere in our hometown to have it, because, while I'm sure that the-big-room-at-the-Grandy's is a lovely place, it doesn't exactly scream surprise- in a good way. Plus, you'd have to buy food there to have the party in the-big-room and I can only eat so many honey biscuits (I know, I laughed as I wrote that too. Obviously I can eat my way across town in honey biscuits).

So I was throwing out some suggestions and one was that we have the party up at Chels' family's sale barn on their ranch. My mom laughed about that for a second and then decided: "No. That's fancy country and we're just plain country."

So, for YOUR future reference:

Sale Barn = Fancy Country
My family = Plain Country

So don't come at us with your bedazzled beltbuckle and $300 pair of cowboy boots. Or your sale barn, for that matter. Those are fancy country.

We are more of the big-room-at-the-Grandy's kind of country.
Better known as plain country.

My Fortune

This is what my fortune said tonight at Pei Wei:

"Doing what you like is freedom.
Liking what you do is happiness."


I love this!! It makes me super happy for some reason. Almost as happy as the fact that Pei Wei is making Seasame Chicken right now.

I am loving my life right now. It's crazy and weird and doesn't always make sense. But tonight, I am incredibly content. I am lucky and blessed AND watching Season 2 of Arrested Development.

Seriously. Does it get any better?

Dance Like There's No Tomorrow

This title describes exactly what I did tonight.

I LITERALLY danced myself sick.

I'm not quite sure what it is about this song, but it makes me want to dance all my cares away.

Unfortunately, by the end, of it I had created some new cares. In that I was so sick I had to lay down on the floor and pray against throwing up.

But, at least I got to bust out some of my old moves, and the next time I hit up the club I'll be all set. If, by "all set" I mean "prepared to humiliate myself" with ending my dance by lying down in the middle of the dance floor and vomiting.

Pretty much a typical Saturday night at the club.

Things I've Learned From Tonight's Episode of the Bachelorette:

1. Never trust a man in a tank top.
Especially if said tank top reveals too much chest hair.

2. Stop watching The Bachelorette.


And I think that says it all.

These Sharks Are Packin’

I am mildly obsessed with the Discovery Channel’s Shark Week.

I thought I should just get that confession out of the way first thing.  Maybe my obsession is caused by the fact that Shark Week only comes around once a year, so I have 51 weeks to look forward to the next one.  This leaves a lot of time to think about all the shark-related material I am missing out on.  It may also be caused by the fact that, when we were kids, my brother and I would rent the National Geographic’s Shark special video from the library for weeks on end.  So, I’ve had the interest for quite some time now.

The most likely theory, however, stems from the time I went into the Gulf of Mexico with my snorkel gear on and I saw a massive crab next to my foot.  Not quite the same as a great white, but I have been afraid of the “deep blue” ever since.

My personal favorite Shark Week moment is a little show called Air Jaws.  You probably shouldn’t click on this if you have some sort of deep spiritual connection with seals.

I only mention Shark Week because I recently saw a commercial for it and then I remembered last year’s shark week.  I was watching with my BFF Chels (and it was one of the show’s where a human decides to jump into the shark cage to gain some sort of understanding about the hammer-head’s hunting habits) and we were very upset because it looked as though the shark was going to outsmart the cage and unlatch it somehow. 

In her horror Chelsea yelled out “Why don’t they make these shark cages bullet-proof or something?!?”

Obviously she felt (and I agree) that, although you never want to be stuck underwater with a shark, you DEFINITELY don’t want to be found unprotected with a shark packin’ some heat.

May The Fort Be With You

In college I once lived in an apartment with some of my best friends.  It was a really special time.  Yes, we were inseparable.  And yes.  Sometimes that led to an almost freakish knowledge of the ins-and-outs of each others’ lives.  But I digress….

Anyway, when it came time to graduate we all felt the need to truly celebrate.  Not just your run-of-the-mill celebration.  I’m talking full out.  I’m talking supreme celebration.

That’s right, I’m talking about a fort.

This is Alison (bottom) and Sarah (top).

We called it ‘The Fort To Be Reckoned With’ and it was, by all accounts, the most awesomest fort ever built.  Why we felt the need to assert our newfound adulthood with a past time that is more commonly associated with four-year-old boys is beyond me.  But it sounded great at the time.  And it was great.

That picture doesn’t really do us justice.  If I were more technotronic (thank you Big Brother) than I would upload a blueprint of the layout, but alas… they will let just about anyone have a blog these days.  Even if you only know how to turn your computer on.  Anyway, we brought the beds from the back of our apartment into our living room and hung sheets from the walls.  This meant that when you walked into our door you could go no further than the living room unless you were willing to crawl under Alison’s bed to make it to the kitchen or bedrooms.

We even made up a password and hand gesture that people would have to do if they wanted to come inside (and yes, it was a beating to everyone who wasn’t us)…. (and no, I can’t tell you the password because then I’d have to kill you).

Here is Daniel, earning entrance into the fort.

If you know Daniel (my bff Katy’s hubby) than you know he is- not unlike our fort, a force to be reckoned with.  He’s a Marine, and could probably kill me if I looked at him funny.  So, I don’t think he’s always been thrilled to partake in our silly games (i.e. grown women building a fort in their living room), but he agreed to do this, plus he let us take a picture of him doing it, which makes me unbelievably happy.

Anyway, this just so happened to be the day that I was supposed to have my computer fixed.  The company had called me and told me that the man was planning on coming sometime between 3 and 5.  I made the appointment and promptly forgot it. 

We were all sitting around the fort when I got the call.  The repairman was in the parking lot and he would be in my apartment in about 5 minutes.  You can’t imagine what it felt like to have a group of people stare in bewilderment at you as you try to push a twin bed, covered in sheets hanging from the ceiling, across the room.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t get the darn thing to move at all.  Stupid Tae-Bo.

I’m guessing you have never been in this particular situation, but you might be able to imagine what it felt like as I told the repairman to “please follow me through the fort” and “I hope you don’t mind getting onto your knees and crawling under this bed with your repair kit”. 

And, since I’m hoping this won’t ever happen to you, you’re going to just have to take my word for it- it was embarrassing. 

As I led the repairman under the bed I almost thought I heard something.  I’m pretty sure it was ‘Adulthood’.  And I’m pretty sure it whispered in my ear: “Welcome to the world.  Sucker.”

Complications

This summer I am spending a lot of time with a couple of six-year-olds.  I’ve been baby-sitting almost every day.  When I am not trying to pull my hair out in frustration I am usually laughing pretty hard at the crazy things they say and do. 

For the most part we get along really well, however, the little boy really likes to push the rules to the breaking point and because of that he often gets in trouble.  A lot. 

So the other day we were playing, and even though this day was really no different than any other, he began to feel persecuted by me.  So he picked up the phone and called his mom.  When she picked up this is what he said:

“Mom.  Ms. Crystal is being SO MEAN to me.  She is being so mean and I just can’t stand it.”

He put me on the phone, ready for me to get into trouble for being mean, and I explained that I was having some trouble with obedience on that day.  She said she understood and would be home soon.

Omar got back on the phone with his mom and they had a conversation.  I’m pretty sure she was telling him that he needed to try and be good when he responded with this:

“You just don’t understand Mom.  Things are just so complicated with her.  You just don’t get it…. she’s just too complicated.”

I wanted to laugh out loud, but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have taken kindly to that. 

I can honestly tell you that I had no idea I was so complicated.  All these years, I’ve been thinking that it was men, but obviously it’s me.  And all it took was one small six-year-old to show me the light.

Let the Romance Begin!

Today I had to run by the library at my school to get some resources for a project.  As I was walking in I noticed a man standing next to the entrance talking on his phone with an accent, which I appreciated because apparently everyone else is just talking on their phone in the library these days.  After I went in I had to do some research before I got my books, so I stopped by the computers first.  While I was sitting there the man from outside walked up and sat at the computer next to me, so I smiled at him, finished my work and went in search for my books.

As I was checking out my books the man with the accented voice came up behind me and said:  “I thought you’d already left.”

I was a little surprised because he was talking to me as if we had carried on a conversation before and I barely recognized him, but I told him that I was on my way out, to which he responded: “Well, I wanted to have a chat with you before you leave.”

Now, I wasn’t standing in front of a mirror, but you can bet that I had a bewildered expression on my face as I answered: “Ok.  What’s up?”  The man said I could finish checking out and that he would just wait outside for me to have our chat.

When the little girl checking out my books came back I wanted, with all my heart, to tell her that if I was reported missing to please let my parents know that I love them (Don’t you love how quickly I took that to the worst possible scenario??).  But I didn’t do that.  Instead, I begrudgingly walked outside to meet him.

Let’s just pause here for my to describe this fellow.  If I had to guess he was probably about 35+, of African descent with an accent and he was a little short.  Because if a man wants to talk to me, you can bet good money he isn’t gonna be a Justin Timberlake stand-in.  (I’m just kidding, looks aren’t as important to me as a man who understands the boundaries of commonly-accepted social behavior.)

Pretty much this gentleman, whose name is George, had a feeling that he was supposed to come talk to me.  After he found out that I went to DBU he said that “God told me to come chat with you.”

George was very inquisitive, he asked me where I lived, where I did my undergrad, what I was studying, if I lived with my parents, if I was a native Texan, and if I had ever had to take a New Testament class, among other things.  I learned a few things about George too.  He is originally from Cameroon, but grew up in Germany.  He just moved to Texas from Mary-land (his pronunciation) and lives near Denton.

Finally George said “I would love for us to meet again sometime.”  Too which, I thought, we’ve barely met the first time…

And then George asked for my phone number.  I was very flustered but then he said “or I can give you mine, or we can both trade numbers”.  And I had found my out. 

I quickly lied through my teeth and told George that I was having phone troubles.  I think I said something along the lines of “due to billing issues” (Clearly, I’m gifted with the tall-tale).  And got George’s number.

He said he was very concerned that I would forget to call him and he would really love to meet with me again and if I would let him then he would like to pick me up.  He said over and over again “Please don’t forget.”

Oh, George, how I wish I COULD forget.

Because I Got Nothin’ Else…

Well, I figured it was time to enter my bi-monthly post.  I’ve been falling down on the job lately, as a blogger, and I’d like to apologize to the one of your who occasionally happens to read my blog.  You deserve better and I’m going to try and give it to you…

 

So, since nothing celebrates your Freedom more than a little craft project, I thought I’d show you something that I have been working on lately. 

I purchased this frame on sale a few months ago at Garden Ridge.  I love unusual frames and thought the circular shape and the carvings around the edges were great!  I inserted a piece of scrapbook paper I got from Hobby Lobby and I thought it was wonderful, but the frame was a little too dark, and a lot of the cool details were fading into the background.

So, I made a massive mistake.  I decided to paint it, since that is my solution to everything.  I thought it would really compliment the paper in the middle if it was a beautiful pale pink.  Unfortunately, pale pink, quickly turned into nightmarish pepto pink with, what was supposed to be a metallic accent color.

Obviously, it couldn’t stay like this, so… TA DA!!

 

 

Much improved.

 

P.S. I want to send a special shout-out to those who serve to protect our freedoms.  Especially my favorite Marine family: Daniel and Katy.  Thanks for all the sacrifices you guys make.  I love you both.

Putting the Ghetto in Ghettofabulous

They say that bad things happen in three’s.  Let’s all hope, for the sake of humanity, that it’s the truth.  You see, my home is falling apart and if anything else goes wrong my life may start falling apart too. 

It all began last week when I returned from my camping trip (pictures and stories pending) I noticed that my apartment was a little warm.  So I called my apartment complex to have them come and fix it up.  On a side note, don’t you love it when people give you completely ridiculous fixes for a problem?  In this instance, the lady said that maybe I should just flip the breaker and that would be the end of it.  Ok, lady.  While I appreciate your quick thinking and expertise on the subject…. It’s June.  In Texas.  I’m not risking ANYTHING when it comes to my AC.

Of course the guy gets here and tries to flip my breakers to no avail.  Come to find out all the wires in my attic had burned out and they wouldn’t be able to fix it till the next morning.  At which time I quickly turned tail and headed for the hills of Sherman and the air conditioned comfort of my parents’ house.  All of this was done on the assurance that my AC would be fixed first thing the next morning.

After spending the weekend in Sherman I came back Monday afternoon and discovered that I had entered an apartment which could give the seventh layer of hell a run for its money when it comes to heat.  It was over 90 degrees in my home.  Of course, you better believe I called that man right back and told him to hightail it over to my casa.

He finally showed up around 4:30 and said he had fixed it last week, but apparently the outside wires were shorting out the inside wires and they wouldn’t be able to fix it until the next morning.  This is the moment when I began to fear for my sanity…. and for his life.

Luckily, he came up with this classy solution:

(Pay no attention to all the dust and debris surrounding the window.  I’m positive that the maintenance men somehow managed to drag all that junk in with them.)

He borrowed a little window unit from another building and installed it for me.  Luckily this helped me make it through the night.  Although, I couldn’t move further than 10 feet away from the window unit at any point in the night.

By the time I got home from work the next day the AC was fixed.  Hallelujah!!

As I went to bed that night I managed to break my toilet.  It completely lost its flushing capabilities.  I’m really on a streak.

And if I EVER see that repair man again, it’ll be too soon.

Zack Attack

You can ask anyone who knew me from the ages of 6-12 and they will tell you that I had one obsession. That obsession was: Saved By The Bell. I think I've seen every episode of the series including the ones with Miss Bliss. So, you can probably guess how delighted I was when I heard that Jimmy Fallon is trying to orchestrate a cast reunion.

Today I saw this little gem and I was almost giddy about it. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did.

P.S. At about 6:07 he makes my joy complete:

Adding Insult To Injury

I was recently hit in a car accident and was injured. So, as a way of apologizing for my trouble the insurance company of the other driver sent me a check. The lady asked me some questions about my life and then sent me the check. You can imagine my surprise when this came in the mail:

It says (and I quote): "Pay to the order of: Crystal Chamberlain a single female"

Ouch. Is it just me, or was that completely unnecessary?

Whistle Blower

I was walking across the street today all dressed up for a singing gig and I got whistled at (in a good way). That has happened to me approximately none times before.

So just put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Also, this weekend I have a jam packed schedule and will soon return with lots of newsy news. Plus, maybe even a few pictures.

All of this depends on whether or not my computer decides to stop being stupid and work. I'm probably going to have to call a repair man. Which always has catastrophic results (for instance, the fort debacle of '06 comes to mind) but that's a story for another day.

"Let Me Just Tell You Something"

I'll just be honest and tell you that drunk people typically get on my nerves.

I'm not much of a drinker myself so I've never seen the thrill. Plus, being totally out of control of the things I say and do just sounds like a normal Thursday to me, so I don't really need to turn to The Drink.

But, there is one thing that always kills me when I'm around drunk people and it is this tiny little phrase: "Let me just tell you something".

"Hey!.... You know what??" is good too, but nothing gets me quite like someone slurring the phrase: "Let me just tell you something."

Since I moved to Denton my exposure to drunk people has increased exponentially, which has surprised no one more than me. I'm not really sure how a person can come out of the movies drunk, but in Denton- all things are possible. This could be a result of the two colleges here, but I think there must be some special magic here.

It really doesn't matter what I am doing, whenever I hear a person who is clearly intoxicated speaking these words my ears perk up like a kid listening for the ice cream truck. Recently, I was out with some friends when I heard those magic words. Did I mention we were in the lobby of the movie theater? That little phrase found its way to me, over the buzz of the crowd, due to the liquid courage a young lady had just downed.

And let me just tell you something.... it was music to my ears.

A Morsel Of Truth

As of today my life has officially been changed.

Friends, I have been a huge supporter of the N'estle Tollhouse Chocolate Chip Cookie Recipe for a long time now. I have been known to refer to it as "the perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe". While I stand by my opinion, one pivotal ingredient has changed everything.

I switched from the semi-sweet morsels to the milk chocolate.

Oh sweet heavenly days.

It happened totally and completely by accident, since I wasn't paying attention at the grocery store (I knew God couldn't have given me ADD for no good reason).

And now I will never be the same.

Maybe I should take it as a sign to look for other places in my life to try new things. But, I think my world has been rocked enough by the milk chocolate morsels for today. Honestly, what would be next?

Open Mouth, Insert Wedding Dress

I'm very used to making a fool of myself. It's a process that I have become very familiar with over time. No matter how great my intentions are I just open my big mouth and then disaster strikes. Occasionally, if I am really lucky I succeed in embarrassing others as well as myself. And that is just what I did last night at Homegroup.

My sweet Homegroup leader was talking about how she and her boyfriend were everything BUT engaged. As close to being engaged as possible, they've talked about it and he's saving for a ring and whatnot. Well, this was the moment I decided to put my two cents in and share some of my wisdom... A.K.A.- the moment I wished I could be swallowed up into a hole and die.

I told this sweet girl that I had once had a friend who was pre-engaged and had ended up buying her wedding dress and then the couple broke up. So I warned her not to buy a wedding dress before she was engaged. Here's the problem, first of all, it's not polite to tell someone that because some other friend of mine had her pre-engagement cut off she will too and second of all: JUST SHUT UP! Why didn't someone just tell me to shut up? Because what happened next was truly mortifying.

I started to try and backtrack by saying that she didn't seem the type to buy a wedding dress before she was engaged. At which point she explained that she did, in fact, already have a wedding dress because she has been engaged before.

And then I made things so much worse by incredulously asking "Are you going to wear it?"

Yes. Yes, she is.

The sound you hear is my face melting off from embarrassment.

Easter Bunny Eggs

Each Tuesday night my friend Yumi and I have dinner together. It's a tradition that we take pretty seriously. A lot of times during our meals Yumi will ask me to explain some crazy American thing because she is from Taiwan.

Over dinner tonight we were discussing our weekends, so I told her all about going home and seeing my family. I also told Yumi about going to church on Sunday to celebrate Easter and she asked me what my church did for Easter. She wanted to know if it was a special service or if we did anything unusual for Easter Sunday.

I quickly gave an overview of the Salvation Story (if any of my Bible professors would have been there they might have cried at the convuluted mess of broken English I spewed out- but that's neither here nor there). I explained that Good Friday is good because Christ took our sins to the cross with Him and on Easter we celebrate His resurrection and our own new life.

Then, she asked me the sweetest, most wonderful question ever:

"Ok. But why is there a bunny?"

Oh man. Now that I'm thinking about it I'm a little sad that this is what people take away from the whole Easter experience, but at the time all I could think about was the laughs. I do think that I eventually managed to make up some correlation between bunnies representing new life and our new life and whatnot.

I'll be honest- I wasn't even buying it.

After all of that explanation she had just one more question:

"Ok. But why does the bunny have eggs?"

If You Like It Than You Shoulda Putta Link To It....

A Few of my Favorite Things:

1. High School Musical 4? Yes Please.

2. This story has kept me laughing for a week!

3. Nothing quite says "He is Risen" like six feet worth of legos.

4. On a more serious note: this post reminded me of His faithfulness and sovereignty.

5. I have no number five, but I could not make myself stop at four. So, number five will be that I have some leftover jellybeans from my Easter basket that are calling my name.

Oh, How I Wish I Lived A Life Worth Blogging About.....

I may be the most boring person known to man. Sad, I know, but true.

There is drama in my life, but it mostly involves the crazy people in my life who are just too hard to explain in writing. Sometimes they are too hard for me to explain to myself.

Here's the run-down of my life lately:

1. I just watched the Ben Stein movie Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed. It was incredible and really thought-provoking. I have been telling everyone I know all about it.

2. My students competed in Solo and Ensemble and did REALLY well. I was super proud of them.

3. Katy came for a visit. One pizza and a few vampires later, it was confirmed that we are truly best friends for life. Sometimes things change, but that doesn't always have to be a bad thing- sometimes it just means that you adapt and grow with the changes. Luckily for me, this is one of those friendships that continues to blossom.

4. I went to the most awkward class ever tonight. One of the students and my professor nearly had a smackdown. I don't believe I've ever seen such rudeness in real life. It was highly dramatic.

5. I am getting ready for Easter weekend and I'm going home! I plan on dying Easter eggs, playing with all the kitties and puppies at my parents' house and hanging out with my BFF Chels. Because nothing says He is risen like baby animals and your friends.

I am officially all listed out. Whew.

'Obsessesion' Is Such A Strong Word......

But I may very well be obsessed. And you will be too:

Miranda's Free Singing Lessons may have made my life complete.

After watching it you should probably discuss it with me so I can hopefully undo any and all of the damage she managed to do to your voice in a short five minutes.

Also, once you've seen this one please check out her rendition of "All I Want For Christmas Is You". I promise that, if for no other reason than her tinsel tiara, you will not be disappointed.

I Kinda Sorta Used To Be A Big Deal...

Recently my best friend Chels told me that she was working with a boy who went to my alma mater- DBU. To which, my automatic response was:

"Did you tell him I used to be a big deal there?"

I realize this may seem incredibly pompous of me, but I promise I was joking. First of all, when you go to a small enough college- everyone is a big deal. The truth is that I wasn't a big deal, but my friends were. Because when your friends are all gorgeous and funny and outgoing, they're bound to be popular. And you are doomed to making a career out of meeting people 5 and 6 times before they recognize that they may have met you somewhere before.

My claim to fame in college was literally the fact that I was friends with my friends. I did some stuff was on some boards and in some groups and all that, but really I was friends with my friends. My first senior year I was named the Senior Duchess (because I'm classy that way), but that was ONLY because all of my friends were nominated and they split the vote amongst themselves with their popularity and gorgeousness. I swear that's the truth. Ask them.

Well, last weekend when I saw my peeps I mentioned this story to them. Unfortunately, I did not get the laughs I was hoping for. In fact, they all kind of stared at me like I had lost my mind.

Not only did I USED to be a big deal, I'm crazy. And maybe arrogant (I'll ask Jesus to work on that with me).

But, at least I have my former big deal-ness to keep me warm at night.

He May Be In This....

Do you ever doubt God?

I realize this question may be a bit deep for my blog. Especially since I recently wrote a post in praise of an oddly named ice cream. Which, by the way, I would like to clarify my earlier statement- a half a pint of Phish Food and the world does indeed makes sense again, HOWEVER a whole pint of Phish Food and the world becomes a very miserable place. I only share that because y'all know I am nothing but a servant of the people and their need for knowledge.

Anyway, back to my original question. Do you? I'll confess, I do. I'm not proud to admit that, but it's the truth. It's a silly truth considering all the times He's proven faithful to me. It's not a truth I expected to be sharing with the whole wide web. But sometimes the truth is hard to come by, and even harder to admit so I am trying to be as honest as possible. He is often easier for me to believe in at the worst of times but I often loose sight of Him in the small things, the little moments.

Recently, I wrote that I had to go to this thing at my church which was really hard for me because I had to meet a bunch of people. Well, I went to look for a new Homegroup. My church, being all new-fangled and what-not does Homegroup's instead of Sunday School classes. What I did not write about was that I went and have never felt more out of place and uncomfortable. What is meant to make people feel included and wanted made me feel the opposite. This absolutely has more to do with the fact that my psyche is in need of some sort of special case study than it has to do with the kind, sweet people at my church who were trying to do a nice thing. Anyway, at the end of that night I signed up for a homegroup, but was less than thrilled about the situation, and not entirely certain I believed God had really wanted me to be there. I may have even shed a tear or two over the whole thing.

Finally, two weeks ago I went to the homegroup I had signed up for and I was completely surprised. I really thought that God was leading me in a different direction, but I realize now I ended up right where He was leading me. Maybe this isn't the perfect group for me to be meeting with, but maybe there is no such thing as a perfect group. Perhaps, where God was leading me was to fellowship, time with fellow believers each week, to share what God's been doing and to open myself up to others and their lives.

So, while I couldn't imagine it at the time I'm starting to think He may really be in this thing. Of course, I believe in God, but maybe He truly is in every single moment, every decision, every perceived "happenstance". Simply in everything.

I have no pretty bow to tie this post up in. No witty punchline to end things. All I know to say is that I'm going to try harder in the future. That's all I know to do.

Onomatopoeia Television

Oh Spring Break, how I love thee. Let me count the ways:

1. I went to Sherman and celebrated my mom's birthday! It's always good to be home, but this time I really needed it. Although, I think her actual birthday may have been anti-climactic.

2. I worked three days. Three of the most beautiful days known to man. It was breathtakingly beautiful here in the Big TX. So, that means I made those kids stay outside for every possible moment and enjoy the weather. I think I got a little tan.

3. Haircut. Thank you Lord.

4. After three full (miserable) days of car shopping I now am driving a brand new car. She doesn't have a name yet, but I'm working on that. This will be its own blog post to come.

5. On Saturday I got to hang out with some of my favorite people.

My friend Sarah got married in December and returned home with her husband for the first time since the wedding. The Wards are two of my favorite people and we always have fun hanging out. Sarah and I have been friends since my first days at DBU and we are soul sisters and I dearly love her. When I met Justin I quickly realized that he and I are true kindred spirits. Together they comprise one of my favorite super couples. Always up for a good time, they agreed to meet Miranda and I for lunch. Four loafs of bread, a lot of laughter and a really bad, never-ending bit about onomatopoeias later, we were stuffed and I took them for a little spin in my new ride.

Then we decided to head over to Miranda's house where Katy Evans, who just got into town from North Carolina, met us!

And then, my heart very nearly exploded.

Plus, our friend Jessica came and we had the best time. I'm so lucky to have such good friends.

Saturday almost made up for the whole rest of Spring Break. It almost made up for no sleeping in and no clothes shopping (I think I've met my shopping quota for the year due to the car).

And now we're back to normal. No Saturdays in sight. Goodbye Spring Break, Hello Monday.

The Spring Break Cycle

Why is that the educational system always somehow manages to find the coldest, bleakest wettest week of the year and claim it as spring break?

This seems to be a consistent problem and so I believe it must be a magical gift that the scheduling people have been given to arrange for what should be a week of fun-filled frivolity to take place at the time that God pre-ordained for the heaven's to open up and drench the earth. Plenty of college-aged girls will tell you that their chances for doing something truly stupid that would, at the time have been drunkenly hilarious, were ruined. And all because of the rain and wind and whatnot. They were probably forced to go skiing instead of heading for the beach.

All of that being said, I have a long and beautiful history with spring break. As a child my family would usually spend a weekend at my granny's house in central Texas and then return home for four or five days of freedom. As I got older I began to crave five uninterrupted days of watching soap operas, and would spend my break thusly. Oh, the years wasted on Days of Our Lives. Let's not even go there. Spring break during the college days either meant loads of clean laundry and a week of glorious, non-cafeteria food or maybe if I was truly lucky a road trip to some exotic location such as College Station to get really crazy.

And now, despite the fact that it is 38 degrees and drizzling outside, I will spend this spring break visiting home for my mother's birthday and a car buying expedition, then baby-sitting a few days and practicing. Like I said... beautiful.

And so, the spring break tradition continues.

Phish Food

This has been an insane week. Completely insane.

On Monday I was sitting at a stop light when my car was rear-ended. So, obviously I have needed time to collect my thoughts in order to properly inform you about this incident. I have decided to give a small teaser today, but I have plans for a full-fledged blog post soon. All your wreck-related questions will be answered. But, for now, just know that I do have whiplash but I am feeling better each and every day. Unfortunately, my poor car, Lola, is not feeling so well and was totaled in the accident. There will be more on this to come, so you have something to look forward to....

Today I would like to tell you all about a great friend and confidante of mine. This friend has seen me through many great trials.
The last time a relationship ended? There for me.
The last time I failed miserably at something? There for me.
The last time I thought my world was coming to an end? There for me.
And now, when I am in pain?

There for me.

Half a pint of this and the world seems to make sense again. I'm not sure what it is about the caramel, marshmallow and chocolate fish combination, but it does something to me. To be perfectly honest I don't consider myself to be a Ben and Jerry's girl- I am a Blue Bell girl from way back when. So, I'm not even positive how I stumbled across Phish Food, but I know it has changed my life.

So, Thank you Ben and Jerry. But mostly, thank you Phish Food. From the bottom of my heart.

Shaking The Haters Off

Yesterday I was wandering the internet and I came across this article. Which discusses the drama surrounding Gwyneth Paltrow's new website.

In case you are too lazy to click over here's the synopsis: Gwyneth Paltrow has a new lifestyle website where she shares recipes, travel tips and just regular life advice but some people think it's silly that she'd have a lifestyle site because she's a celebrity and apparently it's beneath her to have a website. I'm not really positive what the complaint is honestly, but you get the picture.

When I first saw the article I had two basic reactions: the first was to quickly click over and check out the website, which I tried to do but I'm having trouble getting in. I feel like there's some sort of invisible bouncer that recognizes I'm not cool enough to be allowed inside the website. Maybe it somehow knows that my IP Address regularly visits online gaming sites such as mahjong and web sudoku in addition to the countless hours spent on facebook. So, I can't vouch for the greatness of the website yet, but you better believe I'll keep trying until I get in.

My second thought was this: when I first began my little blog here a lot of people were very upset too. I mean, when People magazine called me to ask for a response to all the criticism I was slightly surprised. But, I too responded just like Gwyneth, saying: "those who make fun of it just don't get it." Honestly, if this blog didn't exist where would you get all of the information you need for your daily life? How could you survive day to day without knowing proper etiquette for opera attenders or without the reminder to daily sing His praises for the invention of the DVR? Now, I'm not positive what Gwyneth is writing about on her blog, but when she isn't passing along wisdom given to her by the Dali Lama then I am pretty sure she's writing about her DVR.

And I just don't see how anyone could possibly complain about that.

The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of

I have a dream for my life that I rarely share with people. I mean I do share it occasionally, but usually it's done in a joking manner, so I don't horribly embarrass myself. But the truth is that it's a goal I'm very serious about. My dream is to learn how to blow glass.

I've often said I would like to live among the Amish so that they could teach me, but there may be a few flaws with that plan since I'm not sure the Amish work on a foreign exchange policy where they just allow people to come in willy-nilly and learn their trades and whatnot, plus I'm also not positive that the Amish blow glass. Maybe the whole Amish thing is just a completely different goal. However, recently I started to seriously look for a place to take a glass blowing class.

I mean I googled and wikipediaed and everything.

So, I found a location not too far away from me that gives lessons once a week. Apparently you have to first learn how to make a paperweight and then you get clearance to learn glass blowing. I can not tell you how excited I was. I was about to achieve one of my lifelong dreams.

Do you sense a 'but' coming?

BUT, apparently achieving lifelong dreams comes at a cost. A hefty cost. For the first four lessons in paperweights I can achieve my dream for the low, low price of (drum roll please....)
$804.38 (including tax).

Needless to say, I'll have to work on my lifelong dream of having more than $138 in my bank account first.

So, the moral of the story is: your dreams will cost you. About $800 worth of pocket change.

The Bohemian Life

Last night my friend Cortnee and I went to see the Dallas Opera's production of 'La Boheme'. I thought it was beautiful and such a fun experience. First of all, the opera was breathtaking and really well done. Second of all:

James Valenti. Gorgeous and can SING. 'Nuff said.

Going to the opera has a few really wonderful advantages: great music, gorgeous singing, men who look like James, and you are sure to have some fantastic stories from the evening. Such as last night, when the city of Dallas decided to celebrate Mardis Gras in a big way at Fair Park. Since the music hall and Fair Park share a parking lot it made the evening both miserable and entertaining. Let me just preface this by saying it was about 30 degrees outside last night and we parked about 8 miles away from the hall. This, combined with the fact that some were dressed for the opera others were dressed for a rockin' good time at Mardi Gras led to some interesting combinations. I'll let you use your imagination, but I just have to say that wearing booty shorts and cowboy boots is a bold choice any day of the week, but it takes a lotta courage to wear them on a sub-zero night outdoors.

Is courage the right word?

Anyway, after Cortnee and I crossed the frozen tundra of the parking lot we spent some time hanging out in the lobby doing some people watching, and then made our way to our seats. This is when the real fun began. We were lucky enough to be sitting directly behind a very young couple who were also very in love. VERY in love. Let's just pause here for me to give you a little lesson in opera etiquette: Usually when people attend the opera they are interested in a night of refinement and class and typically this does not include watching you stick your tongue down the throat of your significant other. Did I say opera etiquette? I meant LIFE etiquette. The kissing wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for the fact that they made the gross smacking sounds to go along with it. Luckily, after some barfing we managed to block the couple from our minds and enjoy the romance on stage.

I guess the moral of this story is that even if you think the opera is sure to be filled with nothing but drama and tragedy it can also be comedy gold. I promise.

I'm Not Getting Any Younger.... Or Am I?

Since I am a grown-up I often do grown-up things. I pay my bills, I check the weather, I have a plant that I remember to water every other week and I baby-sit. That's right, folks. I am a 25 year old baby-sitter. I do this for a few reasons:
1. It keeps me young.
2. I really love the family that I baby-sit for.
3. The money doesn't hurt.
4. When you have the chance to meet and spend extended time with two of the coolest Pakistani-American children (who, on a regular basis, rehearse scenes from High School Musical- complete with microphones and AMAZING dance moves plus singing) you move heaven and earth to hang out with them.
So, when I went over to their casa last night I figured we would play a little Wii, maybe watch some Disney and inevitably be treated to some stellar singing and dancing; what I did not expect was a quarter-life crisis. I was talking with the kids when Omar said:
"Miss Crystal? How old are you?"

"It's not polite to ask a lady her age."

The twins quickly decide to begin a guessing game involving my age, always fun for everyone, right? Here is the exact transcription of the rest of that conversation:

"Are you 36?"

Honestly, it was just like taking a bullet. I answered that "No, I am not 36." To which the reply was:
"Are you 14?"

So, I probably shouldn't take this whole thing too personally.
But, I definitely will.

Lost, Indeed

Every Wednesday evening I get home from class just in time to turn on my tv and watch "Lost". Some might say this is a bold move for a girl who hasn't really kept up with, oh, I don't know, the last four or five seasons. Luckily, I don't let the little things get me down. I'll watch the show that has enough random characters to fill a small army (not to mention all the time traveling) if I wanna. So what if I don't know who the person is that's talking, or where / when they are. An episode of "Lost" will typically end in a confused call or text to my friend Miranda who inevitably clears up any questions I have or directs me to the 'Lostpedia'. The show should probably come with some disclaimer that says 'two parts entertainment, one part brain teaser'. However, I really can't fathom giving up on it all. I feel like I'll be missing out on something important, like- in college when I couldn't go to my room and sleep (even if I had just pulled an all-nighter) because I couldn't bear the thought that I might miss something funny or important. Nope, instead, I will suffer through, without DVR, mind you.

On the subject of DVR, can I just be honest and say that I truly believe God planted the idea and technology of the DVR into the brain of man for me and me alone. I feel like God really knew my heart and wanted to give me the gift of the DVR as a testament of His love for me. The only problem with this is that I don't currently have a DVR at my apartment and I believe I am more bitter because I know how life changing it can be. The hardest part is that sometimes I forget that I do not have the handy fast-forward button, so I try and make my remote control skip stuff but then I remember and I get stuck watching commercials. It is a hard pill to swallow, my friends.

So, if you hear a loud sound next Wednesday night around nine, it is probably the sound of my poor, confused brain exploding. Or, at the very least, tears over my inability to teleport myself forward in time to the day that I have a DVR.

Because I'm A Woman Of My Word....

Let's just be honest. This weekend was Valentine's Day and I am a single lady. Typically, this- combined with the fact that I had no plans would culminate in what I like to call "the perfect storm". However, God took pity on me this year and reminded me of all the love I do have in my life. I am blessed beyond measure by truly deep and meaningful friendships, as well as a great family whose love is never ending. Plus, armed with Beyonce's hit song "Single Ladies" I was ready to face down my Valentine's Day demons (I promise that I am just being dramatic- I don't have any demons. I swear).
Anyway, I managed to keep busy this weekend because my AMAZING friend Miranda invited me over to her casa to hang out on VDay (Shout out Miranda!). We had a ton of fun hanging out with Mir's crew from her Single's Group. As always, the highlight of our time together was eating and laughing together. One of the reason's I love Miranda so much is that when she starts to giggle she quickly gets carried away and can't stop- which is really infectious. It's the best. Anyway, I told her I would send her a little online holler and so, here it is!
Now I am off to finish my laundry and a little work for tomorrow, wish me luck.

Love.

P.S. If anyone reads this blog they should say a little prayer for me Monday evening because I'm going to this thing at my church and I'm going to have to meet a lot of new people and not be shy and I am a little nervous about it. Eek! Thanks.

Performance Anxiety

To say that I am a little nervous about writing my first post might be the understatement of the year. I would have started this blog two weeks ago, but unfortunately choosing a name for my blog was the on-line equivalent of 'Sophie's Choice'. Hopefully, that is not indicative of my future here. Most likely, I will write two posts, realize only three people ever read my blog and then quit.
I decided to start blogging because I have become somewhat addicted to reading the blogs of complete strangers, and after I bullied my buddy Katy into blogging, I felt as though I should start my own blog. I figure the world wide web is really in need of more pointless information and I have always been burdened to give the people what they want.
I teach private voice lessons and am in grad school studying vocal pedagogy and performance (big words to describe a life of little money and no health care benefits). The fact that I am getting my master's truly astounds me, as I am sure it does to almost every professor and friend I had from the ages of 18-20. I loved college, or as I refer to them "the glory days". I'm a member of the Dallas Baptist University Class of '06. Actually, I technically graduated in '07, but that's only because I skillfully managed to cram four years of college into five.
Maybe in the future I can add some hilarious stories into the mix. But I think I've exhausted myself already today. It probably does not bode well for my blogging future that one little post does me in.