No, I have not found the frickin paintbrushes. It's practically driving me insane. Or perhaps I was already driven insane by the little boy in my class today who said, "Oh snap!" at least seven times. It's hard not to chuckle when he says that. But the chuckling stops when you remember that he has two fathers and he probably picked up "Oh snap!" from the one father that works at a hair salon. I kid you not.
Here are the things that I need to do:
1. Find the frickin paintbrushes.
2. Do calligraphy on wedding invitations.
3. Email my advisor and FIGURE OUT GRADUATE SCHOOL because I am a waste of space and excellent at procrastinating in this arena.
4. Read 20 pages of the Bible study and answer all the questions before tomorrow night.
5. Give myself a pedicure and manicure before 7:20 tonight.
6. Lift weights and do crunches.
7. Read a couple of articles on gifted learners and then write a couple of paragraphs summarizing my (nonexistent) thoughts. I MUST do this tonight because I have to submit it tomorrow in order to finish my G/T Certification.
8. Finish thawing the chicken; cook the chicken and other items for dinner.
9. Put the clothes in the dryer, take them out, iron them.
Would you like to know what I'm going to do instead? Publish this post and then go to the bathroom (probably TMI). Then I'm going to crawl onto my bed in the fetal position and take a nap. This list sends me over the edge.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
No Wonder Van Gogh Cut Off His Ear
For MONTHS AND MONTHS I have been planning to paint some canvases for my new little neice. I'm painting the letters of her name on 5x7 canvases. It will be spectacular. Do you know what you need to paint letters on canvases? There are a couple of essential items. Let me enumerate:
1. Correct letters. Sweet was born on Saturday and her mom and dad (my bro and SNL) finally shared her name upon her arrival! This allows me to know the exact letters, in correct order, other than, "Her name has eight letters." So, now I can paint the letters on the canvases! But you can't paint without...
2. Paint. Her room is pink and I already painted a chocolate brown ribbon on the wall. The canvases are cream (light mocha to be exact) and I'm painting brown letters with a pink trim. There will also be pink and brown accents such as dots and stripes and swirls and dashes. I have the perfect paint pens and multiple shades of pink and brown. I'm almost ready! Now all I need are...
3. Paintbrushes. Naturally. I have a perfect set that I've accumulated throughout the years. I have old brushes for ratty shading and spotting. I have new brushes for trim work. I have thin, thick, pointy, fan, wide, narrow brushes. They are a treasure for any artist.
Okay that might be taking it a little far. But forgive me for my dramatization. I'm just a little torn up over the fact that I'VE LOST AND/OR CANNOT FIND MY FRICKIN PAINTBRUSHES!
I wrote the letters on the canvases today. It looks wonderful. The image in my head is nothing short of excellence. I can't wait to start painting! I get out the paints. And then I go to the craft box, where all essential painting items have always been stored, and I am unable to locate the brushes. I really believe the BrushBurglar came in here and swiped them to dash my hopes of pretty-pink-and-brown-baby-girl-little-miss-priss-ooooh-and-ahhh-CANVAS-PAINTING!
Okay stop right there. Perhaps something in the above paragraph is not accurate. And if you're thinking it's that the BrushBurglar did not steal the brushes, then YOU'RE WRONG, because he did. He exists. Kind of like the HamBurglar from McDonald's circa 1989. Side note: Where did all those characters go? Did Ronald take 'em out back and beat 'em because they were getting attention, too? And why can't I recall the names of any other characters? I digress. Focus. In the above paragraph I may have mentioned that all craft items are always kept in the designated craft item location. And that is very true. Except for when I throw them down wherever I please and pledge to put them away later.
Said brushes could be at my parents' house, my bro and SNL and Sweet's house, or hiding in any unseen location around my house.
If the BrushBurgler didn't get them then I bet the big purple character from McDonald's took them. I think his name was McPaintbrush McHidey.
1. Correct letters. Sweet was born on Saturday and her mom and dad (my bro and SNL) finally shared her name upon her arrival! This allows me to know the exact letters, in correct order, other than, "Her name has eight letters." So, now I can paint the letters on the canvases! But you can't paint without...
2. Paint. Her room is pink and I already painted a chocolate brown ribbon on the wall. The canvases are cream (light mocha to be exact) and I'm painting brown letters with a pink trim. There will also be pink and brown accents such as dots and stripes and swirls and dashes. I have the perfect paint pens and multiple shades of pink and brown. I'm almost ready! Now all I need are...
3. Paintbrushes. Naturally. I have a perfect set that I've accumulated throughout the years. I have old brushes for ratty shading and spotting. I have new brushes for trim work. I have thin, thick, pointy, fan, wide, narrow brushes. They are a treasure for any artist.
Okay that might be taking it a little far. But forgive me for my dramatization. I'm just a little torn up over the fact that I'VE LOST AND/OR CANNOT FIND MY FRICKIN PAINTBRUSHES!
I wrote the letters on the canvases today. It looks wonderful. The image in my head is nothing short of excellence. I can't wait to start painting! I get out the paints. And then I go to the craft box, where all essential painting items have always been stored, and I am unable to locate the brushes. I really believe the BrushBurglar came in here and swiped them to dash my hopes of pretty-pink-and-brown-baby-girl-little-miss-priss-ooooh-and-ahhh-CANVAS-PAINTING!
Okay stop right there. Perhaps something in the above paragraph is not accurate. And if you're thinking it's that the BrushBurglar did not steal the brushes, then YOU'RE WRONG, because he did. He exists. Kind of like the HamBurglar from McDonald's circa 1989. Side note: Where did all those characters go? Did Ronald take 'em out back and beat 'em because they were getting attention, too? And why can't I recall the names of any other characters? I digress. Focus. In the above paragraph I may have mentioned that all craft items are always kept in the designated craft item location. And that is very true. Except for when I throw them down wherever I please and pledge to put them away later.
Said brushes could be at my parents' house, my bro and SNL and Sweet's house, or hiding in any unseen location around my house.
If the BrushBurgler didn't get them then I bet the big purple character from McDonald's took them. I think his name was McPaintbrush McHidey.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Sports and Outdoors
I had a date on Friday night. With my dad. I love my dad for lots of reasons. He's a lot like me and we can talk about pretty much everything. He makes me laugh harder than most people can. I get most of my good and bad qualities from him. Plus, he's just plain fun.
Our date consisted of going to eat sushi and then to Academy. Because everyone likes to vomit raw fish next to new kayaks.
Before we went to eat dinner, I was at my parents' house and my dad showed me his new "tennis shoes" and sought my approval. I quickly cast disdain and scoffing at the direction of my father for two reasons: 1. for still using the term "tennis shoes." He does not play tennis and they are not shoes to be worn during the sport of tennis. They are "running shoes." Dad is not a runner, however these are aptly advertised as running shoes in the store. We will now refer to them as running shoes and no longer as tennis shoes. Case closed. 2. they were ugly. My dad has an affinity for picking the whitest, most clinical looking shoes that Academy has to offer. Perhaps even more sad is the fact that Nike made such an atrocious looking pair of footwear. (See, I'm casting disdain and scoffing.)
Back to the completely irrelevant part of the story. Dad shows me the shoes and goes into a long diatribe providing me with FAR too much information detailing the trip in which he purchased said "tennis shoes." He held the Academy bag, shoes, and reciept in his hands and asked me, "If I take all this back to a different Academy, will they let me exchange the shoes?" I was like, "Hi. I'm Earth and you've been here for 58 years. Have we met?" YES YOU CAN EXCHANGE THE DADGUM SHOES! That is, in fact, the precise way to go about making an exchange in a store. I don't understand why men lack rational thinking when it comes to shopping.
I should have known the Academy trip was going to be a fiasco from my father's experience with shoe shopping. Once, he needed a new pair of "tennis shoes" in the 80s and so he blindly walked into a place called 'Sneakers' only to find out that it was an establishment promoting the nakedness of women and not the purchasing of new "tennis shoes." Oops.
Academy Sports and Outdoors, however, promotes all things sporty and outdoorsy (clearly) and it is therefore one of my father's favorite stores. He said that he could live there if they served food. Shortly, he'll be moving into Bass Pro Shops because they conveniently have a restaraunt! We go to Academy and mosey into the shoe section. My dad's phone rings, he answers in the LOUDEST VOICE POSSIBLE and tells the other person on the line (my mom), "I'M AT ACADEMY WITH DAUGHTER. SHE'S HELPING ME GET NEW SHOES. WE JUST HAD SUSHI. NO, I DIDN'T CALL HER! SHE CALLED ME! I AM LEAVING HER ALONE! I PROMISE I'M NOT SMOTHERING HER..." Smother....smother...smother.
After I died a quick and embarassing death, I revive in the shoe section where I pick a pair out, he tried them on, and decides they are for him. The first pair. Now tell me, how hard was that with a woman's help? So simple. He looks at me with a gleam in his eye and says, "Do you think they have Levi's here?" And then I died of embarassment once again. No one calls them 'Levi's.' Or 'denims.' Most people say 'jeans.' But not my father. No sir. He wants to "go look for the Levi's!"
We get to the jean section and he says to the woman who is hanging some clothes on the rack, "Hey Academy girl..." and I don't remember what he said next because he just called the kind woman with a job "Academy girl." Who does that? Then he looked at the wall of "Levi's" and said, "We've reached the motherload." Dad went straight for the bright blue 80s wash in the size he needed, got two pair, and announced, "Okay, let's go!" I pushed aside my desire to call him deranged and proceeded to seize the ugly jeans in exchange for cooler colors. He grudgingly went into the dressing room, after handing me his cell phone saying, "Here, hold Charlie." The trip to Academy was a success because I managed to convince him that the vintage colors were more attractive than 1986-color denim. My dad is now the epitome of cool in Levi's jeans. Not hard to accomplish when one is wearing Levi's brand jeans. No disrespect.
As we are driving home, my dad busts out with, "Daughter. Would you ever consider living with a boy before getting married?" I knitted my eyebrows and think, 'What the...?" but decide to humor him. I really wanted to be a smart-ace and tell him that I'd consider it but I'd never do it. But since I feel Father was asking more out of fear for his 27-year-old daughter, I decided not to send him into cardiac arrest and I answered with a firm "no." Furthermore, my personal opinion is that it freaks me out beyond belief to actually open myself up enough live with a male. I think I would more than consider living with a boy and might do it as long as the boy retained his previous residence (even if the previous residence was in name only). Because let's be honest...it happens. However, I might want said boy to retain his own residence after marriage so he can go live there when I wig out because that's just how I get about committment. But Father didn't need all these details and might start to shake when I begin to pour my soul out to him about all my relationship issues.
I bypassed said issues and decided I could be a mature adult and said, "Why do you ask, Dad?" I still don't know what made him ask because he began rambling about "sexual relationships" and "I'm more conservative" and "this day and age." I had an odd mixture of feelings about where this converstaion could lead and then it was all a blur and I have since blocked most of it from my permanent memory. I decided we could end the topic and said, "By the way, you're about twelve years too late with all of this." He hung his head and admitted that he was never good at knowing what to say about it all and I just laughed at my father's efforts.
And that's why I love him and why he'll always be cool in my eyes. Because he says things like, "Hey Academy girl..." and has the sexual relationship conversation well past the appropriate age. But I'll think twice about saying yes the next time he asks me on a date.
Our date consisted of going to eat sushi and then to Academy. Because everyone likes to vomit raw fish next to new kayaks.
Before we went to eat dinner, I was at my parents' house and my dad showed me his new "tennis shoes" and sought my approval. I quickly cast disdain and scoffing at the direction of my father for two reasons: 1. for still using the term "tennis shoes." He does not play tennis and they are not shoes to be worn during the sport of tennis. They are "running shoes." Dad is not a runner, however these are aptly advertised as running shoes in the store. We will now refer to them as running shoes and no longer as tennis shoes. Case closed. 2. they were ugly. My dad has an affinity for picking the whitest, most clinical looking shoes that Academy has to offer. Perhaps even more sad is the fact that Nike made such an atrocious looking pair of footwear. (See, I'm casting disdain and scoffing.)
Back to the completely irrelevant part of the story. Dad shows me the shoes and goes into a long diatribe providing me with FAR too much information detailing the trip in which he purchased said "tennis shoes." He held the Academy bag, shoes, and reciept in his hands and asked me, "If I take all this back to a different Academy, will they let me exchange the shoes?" I was like, "Hi. I'm Earth and you've been here for 58 years. Have we met?" YES YOU CAN EXCHANGE THE DADGUM SHOES! That is, in fact, the precise way to go about making an exchange in a store. I don't understand why men lack rational thinking when it comes to shopping.
I should have known the Academy trip was going to be a fiasco from my father's experience with shoe shopping. Once, he needed a new pair of "tennis shoes" in the 80s and so he blindly walked into a place called 'Sneakers' only to find out that it was an establishment promoting the nakedness of women and not the purchasing of new "tennis shoes." Oops.
Academy Sports and Outdoors, however, promotes all things sporty and outdoorsy (clearly) and it is therefore one of my father's favorite stores. He said that he could live there if they served food. Shortly, he'll be moving into Bass Pro Shops because they conveniently have a restaraunt! We go to Academy and mosey into the shoe section. My dad's phone rings, he answers in the LOUDEST VOICE POSSIBLE and tells the other person on the line (my mom), "I'M AT ACADEMY WITH DAUGHTER. SHE'S HELPING ME GET NEW SHOES. WE JUST HAD SUSHI. NO, I DIDN'T CALL HER! SHE CALLED ME! I AM LEAVING HER ALONE! I PROMISE I'M NOT SMOTHERING HER..." Smother....smother...smother.
After I died a quick and embarassing death, I revive in the shoe section where I pick a pair out, he tried them on, and decides they are for him. The first pair. Now tell me, how hard was that with a woman's help? So simple. He looks at me with a gleam in his eye and says, "Do you think they have Levi's here?" And then I died of embarassment once again. No one calls them 'Levi's.' Or 'denims.' Most people say 'jeans.' But not my father. No sir. He wants to "go look for the Levi's!"
We get to the jean section and he says to the woman who is hanging some clothes on the rack, "Hey Academy girl..." and I don't remember what he said next because he just called the kind woman with a job "Academy girl." Who does that? Then he looked at the wall of "Levi's" and said, "We've reached the motherload." Dad went straight for the bright blue 80s wash in the size he needed, got two pair, and announced, "Okay, let's go!" I pushed aside my desire to call him deranged and proceeded to seize the ugly jeans in exchange for cooler colors. He grudgingly went into the dressing room, after handing me his cell phone saying, "Here, hold Charlie." The trip to Academy was a success because I managed to convince him that the vintage colors were more attractive than 1986-color denim. My dad is now the epitome of cool in Levi's jeans. Not hard to accomplish when one is wearing Levi's brand jeans. No disrespect.
As we are driving home, my dad busts out with, "Daughter. Would you ever consider living with a boy before getting married?" I knitted my eyebrows and think, 'What the...?" but decide to humor him. I really wanted to be a smart-ace and tell him that I'd consider it but I'd never do it. But since I feel Father was asking more out of fear for his 27-year-old daughter, I decided not to send him into cardiac arrest and I answered with a firm "no." Furthermore, my personal opinion is that it freaks me out beyond belief to actually open myself up enough live with a male. I think I would more than consider living with a boy and might do it as long as the boy retained his previous residence (even if the previous residence was in name only). Because let's be honest...it happens. However, I might want said boy to retain his own residence after marriage so he can go live there when I wig out because that's just how I get about committment. But Father didn't need all these details and might start to shake when I begin to pour my soul out to him about all my relationship issues.
I bypassed said issues and decided I could be a mature adult and said, "Why do you ask, Dad?" I still don't know what made him ask because he began rambling about "sexual relationships" and "I'm more conservative" and "this day and age." I had an odd mixture of feelings about where this converstaion could lead and then it was all a blur and I have since blocked most of it from my permanent memory. I decided we could end the topic and said, "By the way, you're about twelve years too late with all of this." He hung his head and admitted that he was never good at knowing what to say about it all and I just laughed at my father's efforts.
And that's why I love him and why he'll always be cool in my eyes. Because he says things like, "Hey Academy girl..." and has the sexual relationship conversation well past the appropriate age. But I'll think twice about saying yes the next time he asks me on a date.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Will Power I Have None
Against warnings from the Surgeon General, I did something so idiotic today. I went grocery shopping on an empty stomach one week before my "visitor".
I can hear you groan and say, "Ohhhhh noooooooo." Oh yes.
My typical grocery list is well under one hundred dollars. I purchase items such as fat free turkey slices, Light Done Right yogurt, bags of spinach, fat free organic milk, light string cheese, ground turkey and the like.
I ate lunch today at 10:30 am and by 3:45pm, I was ready for dinner. But instead of having a healthy snack, I hopped over to the grocery store. I purchased only some of the aforementioned heart- and figure-friendly items. I bumped up the HEB bill with goodies such as a large bag of peanut M&Ms, two cans of Pringles, Stove Top Stuffing, Frosted Hot Fudge Pop-Tarts (yes, they actually make those), spinach dip, and pudding to make two more batches of Friendship Bread.
The only thing I'll be having a friendship with is my fat jeans.
I can hear you groan and say, "Ohhhhh noooooooo." Oh yes.
My typical grocery list is well under one hundred dollars. I purchase items such as fat free turkey slices, Light Done Right yogurt, bags of spinach, fat free organic milk, light string cheese, ground turkey and the like.
I ate lunch today at 10:30 am and by 3:45pm, I was ready for dinner. But instead of having a healthy snack, I hopped over to the grocery store. I purchased only some of the aforementioned heart- and figure-friendly items. I bumped up the HEB bill with goodies such as a large bag of peanut M&Ms, two cans of Pringles, Stove Top Stuffing, Frosted Hot Fudge Pop-Tarts (yes, they actually make those), spinach dip, and pudding to make two more batches of Friendship Bread.
The only thing I'll be having a friendship with is my fat jeans.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
I Mispoke...
It wasn't the leopard exhibit. It was the rhinocerous exhibit.*
That is Q on the left trying to scale the barrier to see the rhinos. This is what happened the first moment we got to an animal that was not behind glass. B and J also tried to get inside for a face-to-face meeting with Mr.Rhino. (That good kid that isn't on the fence? Yeah...not in my class.) Luckily, these kids clearly listen to their teacher at all times and climbed down from the wall the first time I asked them to.
Or not.
*No children were encouraged, helped, or harmed in getting inside the rhinocerous exhibit at the zoo.
That is Q on the left trying to scale the barrier to see the rhinos. This is what happened the first moment we got to an animal that was not behind glass. B and J also tried to get inside for a face-to-face meeting with Mr.Rhino. (That good kid that isn't on the fence? Yeah...not in my class.) Luckily, these kids clearly listen to their teacher at all times and climbed down from the wall the first time I asked them to.
Or not.
*No children were encouraged, helped, or harmed in getting inside the rhinocerous exhibit at the zoo.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Lions and Tigers and Bears
Oh. My. And I say that with a sigh and not at all suspenseful from Wizard of Oz.
I'm going to the zoo tomorrow with 17 kindergarteners. It could be worse, though. The state of Texas thinks I should have 22 students at one time, so I'm basically beating the system with five less.
It could be worse if there were no parents going as opposed to the parents that write song lyrics entitled, "What I Would Do for Crack." (I don't make that up...I found the lyric sheet.)
And, it could be worse if little boy Q were really athletic. He's of average build and therefore I have no fears that he'll scale the barrier to get to the gorillas or lions or bears. But it won't be for lack of enthusiasm because he is the child that SPEAKS AT HIGH OCTANE WITHOUT CEASING. I'm thankful for that barrier because I bet you anything the grizzly would smack the noise level right out of Q just so Mr. Bear can have some peace and quiet in the zoo.
I can't promise a blog tomorrow because I might be passed out.
Or in jail explaining how Q made it into the leopard exhibit without my encouragement and help.
I'm going to the zoo tomorrow with 17 kindergarteners. It could be worse, though. The state of Texas thinks I should have 22 students at one time, so I'm basically beating the system with five less.
It could be worse if there were no parents going as opposed to the parents that write song lyrics entitled, "What I Would Do for Crack." (I don't make that up...I found the lyric sheet.)
And, it could be worse if little boy Q were really athletic. He's of average build and therefore I have no fears that he'll scale the barrier to get to the gorillas or lions or bears. But it won't be for lack of enthusiasm because he is the child that SPEAKS AT HIGH OCTANE WITHOUT CEASING. I'm thankful for that barrier because I bet you anything the grizzly would smack the noise level right out of Q just so Mr. Bear can have some peace and quiet in the zoo.
I can't promise a blog tomorrow because I might be passed out.
Or in jail explaining how Q made it into the leopard exhibit without my encouragement and help.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Insight into Women
I know this bit of information will be beneficial for all men. And since...well, ZERO men read this blog...this is THAT much more beneficial.
Women want to be wanted. And we want to be needed. And we want to be just liked. By everyone. It doesn't matter if we'll actually date a man long term or marry you or birth your children (yeesh). We just want to be desired.
Women also do this thing where they think they aren't enough. Not smart enough, tall enough, thin enough, muscular enough, independent, kind, helpful, gentle, loving, talented...WHATEVER enough. I was totally down in the dumps today and feeling all not enough. Because I am a woman and well, I do two things very well. Actually, I do several things very well but that is neither here nor there. With respect to men, I do two things very well: overanalyze and worry that I've done something wrong. So there I was: thinking I was not _______ enough.
And then we went to see my favorite Texas country singer and I sang loud and proud and had a few drinks and I was way-over-the-top-enough. And I spotted a boy. And I thought to myself (except for the fact that I verbalized this thought in a high-pitched squeal to my roommate), "He is so cute!" I think I added that he was too cute for me and he'd never go for me. I have practially non-existent flirting and game-throwing tactics, while my roommate is the Queen of Attraction.
I am proud to say that I have learned a few things from TV. She taught me how to throw game and I initiated contact with a COMPLETE stranger and reeled that boy in, in a matter of 30 minutes. He totally went out on a limb and got my number.
And then I found out that he's cousins with my roommate from college.
No sheet. Life is short. Where there's a will, there's a way.
Women want to be wanted. And we want to be needed. And we want to be just liked. By everyone. It doesn't matter if we'll actually date a man long term or marry you or birth your children (yeesh). We just want to be desired.
Women also do this thing where they think they aren't enough. Not smart enough, tall enough, thin enough, muscular enough, independent, kind, helpful, gentle, loving, talented...WHATEVER enough. I was totally down in the dumps today and feeling all not enough. Because I am a woman and well, I do two things very well. Actually, I do several things very well but that is neither here nor there. With respect to men, I do two things very well: overanalyze and worry that I've done something wrong. So there I was: thinking I was not _______ enough.
And then we went to see my favorite Texas country singer and I sang loud and proud and had a few drinks and I was way-over-the-top-enough. And I spotted a boy. And I thought to myself (except for the fact that I verbalized this thought in a high-pitched squeal to my roommate), "He is so cute!" I think I added that he was too cute for me and he'd never go for me. I have practially non-existent flirting and game-throwing tactics, while my roommate is the Queen of Attraction.
I am proud to say that I have learned a few things from TV. She taught me how to throw game and I initiated contact with a COMPLETE stranger and reeled that boy in, in a matter of 30 minutes. He totally went out on a limb and got my number.
And then I found out that he's cousins with my roommate from college.
No sheet. Life is short. Where there's a will, there's a way.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Deep Thoughts
Admit it...you just said, "by Jack Handy" in your head...didn't you? DIDN'T YOU? It's okay...no shame in your game.
Here are some verses from my neighbor that I'd like to share with you today. I was channeling Mr. Rogers and was thinking, "Won't you be my neighbor" so I took him some Amish Friendship Bread to be friendly. I also needed to talk to him about "the fence that we share and inquire as to what we should do since it has FALLEN OVER. Did you notice that? And since I am a 27-year-old single girl, might you have any experience with a FALLEN OVER fence as a rugged 55-year-old man?" I also felt obligated to throw in, "No, I am not Amish. I just make dang fine Amish bread. I stole the recipe. The secret ingredient is Jell-O Instant Pudding and do you think the Amish folk way-back-when used pudding...instant pudding at that? I think not." I kid you not, that was what came out of my mouth. After he closed his eyes, and shook his head as if to dispel the nonsense that his brain just absorbed from the words I had just spoken, we started talking about our faith. He was such a blessing to me. I hope these verses can expand upon a glorious day or give you a little 'umph' to get you through it.
Look to the LORD and his strength; seek his face always. ~Psalm 105:4. I follow this up with, "even when I don't want to." Do you ever feel that, or is it just me? I mean, sure, I want to...in theory...when it's easy. But I occasionally think that I'll get around to it later or I can do it myself. But no. God wants us to seek his face because he DESIRES us to long for him. Have you desired God today?
And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age. ~Matthew 28:20b. Couple this with all the other promises God gives us: Psalm 37:4, Phillipians 4:13; Proverbs 3:5-6; insert your favorite promise from God here. I'm not alone. No matter how hard it gets. I don't have to understand it because the Lord has provision for what we don't perceive and comprehend.
And lastly: This is also why you pay taxes, for the authorities are God's servants, who give their full time to governing. Give everyone what you owe him: If you owe taxes, pay taxes; if revenue, then revenue; if respect, then respect; if honor, then honor. ~Romans 13:6-7. Ah yes. I needed that reminder. I e-filed last night just before midnight. A day earlier than required, I might add.
Here are some verses from my neighbor that I'd like to share with you today. I was channeling Mr. Rogers and was thinking, "Won't you be my neighbor" so I took him some Amish Friendship Bread to be friendly. I also needed to talk to him about "the fence that we share and inquire as to what we should do since it has FALLEN OVER. Did you notice that? And since I am a 27-year-old single girl, might you have any experience with a FALLEN OVER fence as a rugged 55-year-old man?" I also felt obligated to throw in, "No, I am not Amish. I just make dang fine Amish bread. I stole the recipe. The secret ingredient is Jell-O Instant Pudding and do you think the Amish folk way-back-when used pudding...instant pudding at that? I think not." I kid you not, that was what came out of my mouth. After he closed his eyes, and shook his head as if to dispel the nonsense that his brain just absorbed from the words I had just spoken, we started talking about our faith. He was such a blessing to me. I hope these verses can expand upon a glorious day or give you a little 'umph' to get you through it.
Look to the LORD and his strength; seek his face always. ~Psalm 105:4. I follow this up with, "even when I don't want to." Do you ever feel that, or is it just me? I mean, sure, I want to...in theory...when it's easy. But I occasionally think that I'll get around to it later or I can do it myself. But no. God wants us to seek his face because he DESIRES us to long for him. Have you desired God today?
And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age. ~Matthew 28:20b. Couple this with all the other promises God gives us: Psalm 37:4, Phillipians 4:13; Proverbs 3:5-6; insert your favorite promise from God here. I'm not alone. No matter how hard it gets. I don't have to understand it because the Lord has provision for what we don't perceive and comprehend.
And lastly: This is also why you pay taxes, for the authorities are God's servants, who give their full time to governing. Give everyone what you owe him: If you owe taxes, pay taxes; if revenue, then revenue; if respect, then respect; if honor, then honor. ~Romans 13:6-7. Ah yes. I needed that reminder. I e-filed last night just before midnight. A day earlier than required, I might add.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Highlights (No, not the children's magazine)...
Just some things to ponder about life. Or merely just snippets as to what I've been up to...
1. On Thursday night as we were packing to go out of town, my roommate said, "Hey, throw in your passport...just in case." That statement alone made the trip a whole, new ballgame. With quiet hesitation, I located my pristine passport, as if the idea of foreign travel had elluded me! When I went to college, my parents asked me to call them before I went on any trips. I called them just before leaving Texas to go into Oklahoma and said, "Hey Mom and Dad! Remember when you asked me to call before I went somewhere? I'll be in Oklahoma in a few minutes." This time, I was wondering if I should call and replace "Oklahoma" with "Mexico." Because...well...they're basically one in the same.
2. Two things about me: I pull for the underdog and I procrastinate. Typically, I am a responsible procrastinator. But this year, I am the underdog and I procrastinate with...my TAXES. I just finished them (thank you Turbo Tax) and I said out loud to my roomie, "I suppose they're correct. They'll hunt me down if I did it wrong, right?" No worries here. Oh, until I'm trying to e-file (as I'm dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century as opposed to all previous years when I have printed and mailed at the post office) and the server is too busy. Apparently, there are several other underdogs and procrastinators. I suppose I'll do it when I wake up tomorrow at 5am.
3. I'm waking up at 5am to go running. And then I'm going to e-file. And then I'm going to leave my house at 6:30 am to get a health screening at 7am. Mind you, this is a fasting health screening and that means I will start my day with a workout AND without coffee or Amish Friendship Bread (homemade today...yes, I churned the butter myself). What in the world?
4. I have a sunburn on the front half of my body alone that is akin to the skin on a taut, cherry tomato. My oncologist and you will be in touch shortly. Good job, white girl. Ouch.
5. If you are ever stuck on an airforce base with a bevy of strapping pilots in flight suits (and let's be honest, it happens often), and you find yourself wondering, "Whatever will I do to get these fine gentlemen to pay attention to me?" (Because, after all, nothing is your fault since you're an innocent wallflower.) Let me gift you a line that will ensure attention and eminence..."Hi (insert pilot name here that you just read off of his nametag). I'm in the upper eschelon of air force stupidity. Do you think you could explain (insert something about planes and flying here)?" Works every time. *wink*
1. On Thursday night as we were packing to go out of town, my roommate said, "Hey, throw in your passport...just in case." That statement alone made the trip a whole, new ballgame. With quiet hesitation, I located my pristine passport, as if the idea of foreign travel had elluded me! When I went to college, my parents asked me to call them before I went on any trips. I called them just before leaving Texas to go into Oklahoma and said, "Hey Mom and Dad! Remember when you asked me to call before I went somewhere? I'll be in Oklahoma in a few minutes." This time, I was wondering if I should call and replace "Oklahoma" with "Mexico." Because...well...they're basically one in the same.
2. Two things about me: I pull for the underdog and I procrastinate. Typically, I am a responsible procrastinator. But this year, I am the underdog and I procrastinate with...my TAXES. I just finished them (thank you Turbo Tax) and I said out loud to my roomie, "I suppose they're correct. They'll hunt me down if I did it wrong, right?" No worries here. Oh, until I'm trying to e-file (as I'm dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century as opposed to all previous years when I have printed and mailed at the post office) and the server is too busy. Apparently, there are several other underdogs and procrastinators. I suppose I'll do it when I wake up tomorrow at 5am.
3. I'm waking up at 5am to go running. And then I'm going to e-file. And then I'm going to leave my house at 6:30 am to get a health screening at 7am. Mind you, this is a fasting health screening and that means I will start my day with a workout AND without coffee or Amish Friendship Bread (homemade today...yes, I churned the butter myself). What in the world?
4. I have a sunburn on the front half of my body alone that is akin to the skin on a taut, cherry tomato. My oncologist and you will be in touch shortly. Good job, white girl. Ouch.
5. If you are ever stuck on an airforce base with a bevy of strapping pilots in flight suits (and let's be honest, it happens often), and you find yourself wondering, "Whatever will I do to get these fine gentlemen to pay attention to me?" (Because, after all, nothing is your fault since you're an innocent wallflower.) Let me gift you a line that will ensure attention and eminence..."Hi (insert pilot name here that you just read off of his nametag). I'm in the upper eschelon of air force stupidity. Do you think you could explain (insert something about planes and flying here)?" Works every time. *wink*
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Back in the game...
I'm not going to start by saying I'm sorry. But I'm SOOOOOOOO SORRY. I know you've missed me and couldn't live without me. Just like I'm going to miss the virus on my laptop.
Ew...not like that. I had a virus on my computer that can only be explained by the frequency with which I visit X-rated websites*. Yeah...I had that on my comp. Literally, my skin felt dirty every time I looked at my closed computer sitting on the kitchen table. It's like I knew it was crawling with herpes or something. Because that's what a virus does...creeps people out and makes them itch. Especially a virus that is on your computer that keeps throwing up questionable material while you're trying to send an email. I must say that I have seen more images of you-know-what than I knew existed. So...let's look at it as a learning experience!
But I'm BACK IN THE GAME with a new and fresh computer...VIRUS FREE! I also have a new dedication to start blogging again every Monday through Friday. I only wrote a handful of times in the months of February and March. Pa-the-tic. Again, I'm so sorry.
I started a new Bible study today and I anticipate the BEST April of my life with many fun events coming up. I typically hate the month of April. But April '08 is going to trump all Aprils. Bible study, traveling to near-Mexico, Roger Creager concert, BBQ, happy hours, swimsuits, spring-like and summer-like weather, early morning runs, and the mother of all events in April: FIESTA!!!!!!!!!!
Oh yes my friends...April '08 will not disappoint!
*I have never visited an X-rated website in my life. At least not on purpose.
Ew...not like that. I had a virus on my computer that can only be explained by the frequency with which I visit X-rated websites*. Yeah...I had that on my comp. Literally, my skin felt dirty every time I looked at my closed computer sitting on the kitchen table. It's like I knew it was crawling with herpes or something. Because that's what a virus does...creeps people out and makes them itch. Especially a virus that is on your computer that keeps throwing up questionable material while you're trying to send an email. I must say that I have seen more images of you-know-what than I knew existed. So...let's look at it as a learning experience!
But I'm BACK IN THE GAME with a new and fresh computer...VIRUS FREE! I also have a new dedication to start blogging again every Monday through Friday. I only wrote a handful of times in the months of February and March. Pa-the-tic. Again, I'm so sorry.
I started a new Bible study today and I anticipate the BEST April of my life with many fun events coming up. I typically hate the month of April. But April '08 is going to trump all Aprils. Bible study, traveling to near-Mexico, Roger Creager concert, BBQ, happy hours, swimsuits, spring-like and summer-like weather, early morning runs, and the mother of all events in April: FIESTA!!!!!!!!!!
Oh yes my friends...April '08 will not disappoint!
*I have never visited an X-rated website in my life. At least not on purpose.
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