They say the darndest things...

I'm going to be out of town for a couple of days. Therefore, the blog about Arkansas is postponed...AGAIN. I KNOW! But I at least have a rough draft, so you should get the real deal by Sunday. Just in time for some Peeps-induced vomit. Happy Easter from me to you!

Today, I want to talk about how grandmothers say the darndest things. There are MANY that stick out in my mind about Grandma. She's 82 and lives in Austin. Just today she asked me if I met my roommate while I was at Tech.

I'm sorry. I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. Wha whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?! After her verbal beating (in which she swore never to confuse my University with that one), we cleared the air and talked about other stuff. She really does say the darndest things. I'll never forget last Thanksgiving when she was talking about sperm at the dinner table. Good times.

And Grandmother. She passed away this morning and the lady was a spit-fire. I love her immensely and I'm jealous of the reunion she's enjoying in Heaven. I pretty much get a lot of my attributes from her. Intelligent (and humble, too), on her own time clock, strong-willed, independent, capable. That was Grandmother. Though I will remember so very much about her, I'll never forget the time she looked at me, contemplated my singledom, and said in the softest and most gentle voice possible, "Well, honey. Do you look at the boys?"

This coming from the lady who didn't get married until she was 33 (and that was in the 40s!) and she turned down Granddaddy the first time he asked her.

Yes, Grandmother. I most certainly "look" at the boys. I'll make you proud.

"Howdy" doesn't even cover it...

Two days in a row of blogging! Let's all take a moment and drink it in. I know you are pleased...as am I. And why am I pleased? And why can I guarantee that I'll write a lot this week? SPRING BREAK '08 BABY! WOO HOO!

Yesterday, I alluded to the fact that my trip to Arkansas included a plethora of hick-type-folk. I regret saying that. Mostly because I am from a state that has dust storms and tumbleweeds and it's fair share of trailer parks. Therefore, I have no biznass degrading another state's paltry IQ levels. But I also regret that statement because it's just not accurate.

In the great state that I live in, we can claim a consistent amount of crazies and hillbilly events. Take me, for example. In the above paragraph, I actually used the words, "hick-type-folk." And I bet my fellow Texans didn't bat an eye when they read that. Also, it rained dirt today. Yup. Dirt and mud. I went outside and saw raindrops on my car and said, "Well, DANG. Shore look like it done rained pure mud, y'all. J'see that?" And my momma said, "Yeah, girl. I see it. I reckon I hadn't seen rain like this since when I'ze at school at Tech. We had mud all over our umbrellas!"

That converstaion is pretty exact, minus the fact that I spoke in perfect grammar and she didn't use the word "reckon." But that part about Tech....yeah, she totally said that. And...WELCOME TO LUBBOCK, Y'ALL.

Now that I have rambled on an incredible tangent about all things bumpkin, I am deciding that I'll recount my trip to ArKansas tomorrow.

I know all y'all can't wait. And yes, it is correct English to use the phrase, "all y'all."

What up, Peeps?

I'm really behind on the blogging and I'm sorry. Newsflash: THIS SHOULD NOT BE NEWS. I've said that for at least the last half-dozen posts. And I am sorry. I shall repent. Good thing the season of repentance is upon us.

I could lie and say that I've been out of town for quite some time and that is why I haven't posted, but then again, lying is a sin and I shall refrain...for it is also the season of salvation. You get where I'm going with this...The Season.

So you will have to wait until tomorrow where I will chronicle my trip to one of our border states: Arkansas! As a teaser - it was full of many things including a date proposal, 12-year-old immaturity, a large quantity of Tollhouse consumption, and more hicks than my state has seen in the last 4 decades. Yes, it was that good.

For now, my post will be about The Season. I'm looking forward to Easter for many reasons. I enjoy church on Sunday, contemplating my iniquities and His sovereignty, time with family, and gorging myself with more ham than a linebacker can eat. Yes, it has happened...ask my sister-in-law who witnessed this event last Easter first-hand. I think she was truly amazed at how much honey-glazed, spiral sliced goodness I can pack away.

I also look forward to Easter presents from my mom...I mean the Easter Bunny...and those ALWAYS include egg-shaped gum, Hershey's chocolate eggs with the pastel foil, a hollow chocolate bunny, a sweet card, and if I'm lucky...a non-edible Easter present!

You know what I do not enjoy for Easter? PEEPS.

Jesus does not pardon Peeps. They are NOT the reason for the season. I bet they are the reason there is A LOT of pink and yellow foam throw-up come Easter Sunday around noon.

Peeps overdose. Gag a maggot.

Dreams Really Do Come True

So Billy Crystal is going to be a major league baseball player. Yeah...the dude from City Slickers. That's such a great movie.

I don't quite know all the details as to why he's going to play for the Yankees, but he's doing it a day before he turns 60, his jersey will be #60, it's a one day contract, and he'll play an exhibition game against the Pirates. Okay, so perhaps I do know all the details. I guess that's what a girl gets for watching Mike and Mike in the Morning every morning.

Shame on you for not knowing who/what that is! It's an early morning sports talk show on ESPN and I love it. It's a sickness, I'm well aware. It is also potentially the reason I'm still single...that I often know more about sports than boys and that's either threatening or a turn-off.

And that's a win-win situation if I've ever heard of one.

Okay...I DIGRESS...back to my original thought process. I know the thread is short, so stick with me here. Billy Crystal is going to play in a baseball game for his boyhood-idol team. It's a dream come true.

What would be your dream come true? Is there something that you would like to do in your life that seems so out of reach and incomprehensible? Something that you would have to have major connections to achieve, or pull some major strings?

While you ponder your Dream Come True, I'll throw a few of mine out there:
Go to the Field of Dreams and "have a catch" - CHECK, July 2006
Throw the football at the Rose Bowl...actually on the field
Run the bases at the College World Series...perhaps take a little BP
Sing "On My Own" from Les Miserables on Broadway and get a standing ovation

Do you see a pattern here? You need to revert back to paragraph 3. Couple that with the fact that 75% of my dreams have to do with sporting venues.

Yes...it's amazing I'm still available. The shock of that news is palpable.

In One Ear...

I hear so much throughout the day. I hear a lot, but I don't listen to a lot. Well, maybe I do. But the vast majority of what I listen to doesn't make sense, is incorrect, or I quickly wave off as I try to undo the damage that has been done.

Because I spend my day with little children. Snotty-nosed, sometimes wet their pants (or worse), petri dish of germs, impatient, loud, needy children. And I love it. Because they say stuff like this:

"Nee how!" Over and over and over. I heard "Nee how!" at least 17 times today from a little boy. He's very clever and has learned how to say "Hello!" in Chinese.

It would have been adorable if I was the ESL (English as a Second Language) teacher, and praise the Lord that I am not. Because I have a hard enough time teaching children my first language.

I finally had to say, "J! STOP speaking in Chinese!" Did anyone ask another person today to stop speaking in another language? And mean it sincerely?

Then I heard a little girl say, "My daddy has a panther on his leg!" And I could only hope that it's a tattoo. But then again, is that any better? She was very enthusiastic about her daddy's big panther tattoo on the outside of his calf. I giggled to myself because this man does not seem like the type to 1. have a tattoo and B. have a tattoo of a giant panther on the outside of his leg. I gotta admit: I'm a little curious and I'd really like to see it. Perhaps at the parent conference.

The panther tattoo reminds me of my sister-in-law's college friend who has a tattoo of a tiger on the outside of her leg. Blonde haired, blue eyed, fair skinned, pretty girl...with a BIG ACE tiger on her leg. Forever. Until she's 83. Now, can anyone please tell me the level of logic that makes this acceptable? I think not.

Yeah...the snot, the pee, the neediness, the impatience...it's all worth it because of funny stuff like speaking in Chinese and sharing about your parents' tats. I have parent teacher conferences tomorrow, and instead of freaking out about how horrible of a teacher I am and how these kids are never going to learn and how we're behind and I have to tutor them and work with the low ones, I get to look parents in the eye and tell them that their kiddo can READ! Bam!

And they give me hugs. And they tell me I'm pretty even when I am not. Everyone likes a five-year-old that lies.

Hurry Up and Wait

I know I touched on this a couple of days ago, but I keep coming back to it. Waiting. It's a concept we learn at a young age. I appreciate the teachers and parents that give a reason for the "No!" and "Share!" and "Wait your turn!" We need a reason because, for me, "Because!" isn't good enough. So when I'm told to "Wait!" or have the feeling that I'm supposed to "Be patient!" I retort with, "WHY?"

I don't quite understand why. Kind of like how I don't understand the thoughts that consume my mind at 5:45am when I put my feet on the floor. Does God want me to entertain these thoughts? Was I dreaming about this? Why can't I let this go? IT'S 5:45 FOR GOODNESS SAKES...I DIDN'T BRING THIS UPON MYSELF!

Wait your turn. I never doubt anyone else's plans coming to fruition. I fully believe that good things will happen for them and that prayers will be answered...positively so. I look at my friends and have no doubt that they'll have all they ever dreamed of. But I somehow taught myself that it will not happen for me...even if I wait.

God answers our prayers in three ways: yes, no, or wait. I really like the 'yes'es. I LOVE the 'yes'es. Especially when it is a quick yes. Sadly, we (I) don't acknowledge every yes in my daily life, though I try to recognize and appreciate each yes I am given.

The 'no's are not what I want to hear -who likes being told, "No!"?- but I can understand the 'no's because I believe God will bring something else. I understand that this was not the plan and I will have to trust and pray and come up with a new plan. I am able to learn from and overcome the 'no's.

Oh but the waiting. How I hate the waiting. Waiting = patience = longsuffering. Who wants to suffer for a long time? Yeah, I didn't think so. And for me, waiting means questioning. DUN DUN DUN. Who is the queen of questions and overanalyzation? Raise your hand if you're writing this blog.

I'm sure I've had to wait for a couple things in my life. But for the life of me, I can't recall too many times where my impatience didn't involve a meal at a restaurant or looking forward to a fun event. My life has always been abundantly blessed in so many ways and I regularly feel as though I don't deserve it. So at this time, when I must be patient, I know that God wants to give us (me) the BEST things in life. If only we (I) will apply the faith that the waiting calls for. I can choose to wait with God or walk away from God.

So you can catch me here...just waiting. I'm gonna hurry up and wait.

You Take the Good, You Take the Bad...

Admit it. You're singing the theme song from The Facts of Life. I know you are. And do you know the next line? The one before, "There you have...The facts of life...The facts of life"? Yeah, me either.

Stuff happens every day. I just thought I'd point out some things that happened to me today and how it makes me appreciate life.

1. Good: A little boy in my class has very nice manners most of the time, "Miss Rose, may I use the restroom?" After I say, "Yes. Thank you for asking so politely", he looked at me and said...
Bad: "I gotta dump." And this is what's wrong with America. Not only do I have to teach these small children to read, but I am also responsible for REVERSING crude phrasing such as "dump." Unfortunately, I know several grown men that didn't have intervention from their kindergarten teacher and they also use crude phrases...and think this is funny.

2. Good: I went running today. It was a great, 4.5 mile run.
Bad: A guy leaned out of his car and yelled, "Beep!" No, not an expletive, but the actual word "Beep!" B-e-e-p. Like it was a fake honk. I have gotten used to the honking, and typically wave as if to stick it to 'em while I run 4+ miles...but yelling "Beep!"? This one is new.

3. Bad first this time: The older elem kids take the TAKS test tomorrow. For younger grades, that means NO LEAVING THE ROOM except for bathroom and thirty minute lunch from 10:30-11:00. AM people. Basically, my classroom will be a prison.
Good: All my friends are leaving right at 3pm (this is extremely early, but allowable on a TAKS day) to go have happy hour. That's right. On a Wednesday. 10 of my best friends...happy hour beginning at approximately 3:30...dinner...beverages...dessert I'm sure...after a stressful day. That is one mighty combination and the result is: I might not be able to blog tomorrow.

Let It Go

I remember in college hearing a sermon, Bible study, or wise words from someone that said something to the effect of, "Take all the plans and things you want for your life and pretend like you're holding them in your hand. Hold them tightly in your fist." I did so as I sat in my chair. I remember gripping, gripping, gripping tightly and thinking about finishing school and moving to my hometown and becoming a teacher and getting a graduate degree and getting married and having a family and living a happy and fulfilled life. Then the speaker said, "Now let it go. Drop it. You can't control it and you can't hold onto it." I had a lump in my throat. I didn't want to do it. I don't know if I ever did.

I wish so badly to have the bold faith it takes to drop the plans and expectations I hold so dear, but I am a girl that likes to be in control. Of everything. Those who know me might...might...use obsessive-compulsive as a term to describe me. And I'm sure they do so lovingly. Just like how they'd use the term "bossy" lovingly. Because, while I have many things in my life, honest and patient friends are a true gift I've been blessed with.

I swallow hard even now when I think about holding my plans and then reluctancly opening my clenched fist. The only reassurance I have is that God is in control. And surely, if I were the one doing the controlling, it would not be a happy and fulfilling life. It might only be status quo, at best. At that time in college, I tried my hardest to release the expectations that I had set for my life. But somewhere along the way, I've been tricked into believing that I can do it better. And that when I exercise patience, it won't be good enough or it will take too long. How long is too long? I have a tendency to think, "Okay, I'll just hurry up and be patient." Have you ever heard of anything more oxymoronic?

I know that the more I plan, the harder I fall when plans don't come to fruition just so. And trust me, it's happened. Again...I tend to operate with a touch of the OCD. I find comfort in the control I have over events and circumstances. I plan and execute. There aren't many areas of my life that don't go according to my plan. In fact, there is only one. Regardless, I know that I must continue to try to exercise the bold faith that I so desire.

Do you know what that means? Patience (read: longsuffering) is a virtue.