This is a few posts late. I'd planned on doing this for my 100th post, but instead I spewed about my love for teen flicks.
Whatever. Here is it anyway.
100. My body aches all over from my run yesterday
99. I'm wearing pajama bottoms with Thumper on them
98. I live in the same town where I went to college
97. My town only has one stop light
96. I was a Resident Assistant in college
95. Then I was an Assistant Resident Director
94. I was also president of the Residence Hall Association
93. I graduated college in 2005
92. That was 5 years after I graduated High School
91. Technically it was five and a half years after I graduated High School because I graduated early
90. I took a year off after High School because I was tired of school
89. That year really made me appreciate my education once I got it
88. I went to five proms
87. I had a different dress for each one
86. I have many vices, but the biggest one is chocolate
85. In particular peanut butter with chocolate on it
84. If you ever need to get me a present you can get me Reeses cups
83. I gained 20 pounds when my boyfriend and best friend went away to college
82. I only weighted about 100 pounds to start with so it wasn't that big of a deal
81. I love to bake
80. I also love kitchen products.
79. Williams Sonoma is one of my favorite stores
78. I drive a 91 Jeep Cherokee
77. It's the only car I've ever had
76. I paid for it myself
75. I'm never going to sell it
74. I have always wished my hair was a little bit darker
73. I don't color it
72. I will once I start to go gray
71. Then I think I'm going to go red
70. I have one brother
69. He is four and a half years older than me
68. I have two nephews and a niece; they all belong to him
67. I used to think I wanted four kids
66. Now I'm thinking one will be enough
65. I was a nanny in college
64. I would have a dozen kids if I could have them just like the ones I kept in college
63. I have two bunnies
62. They are named Brunswik and Milton
61. My grandfather was named Milton
60. But we didn't name the bunny after him.
59. I talk to my bunnies like they are human
58. I swear the understand me
57. I'm a scrapbooker
56. I own all seven seasons of The Gilmore Girls
55. I watch them regularly
54. After marathon days I start to talk like them
53. Andy tells me to be quiet a lot on those days
52. I think Amy Sherman-Palladino is a genius
51. Clueless is one of my favorite movies
50. I can recite the whole thing from start to finish, verbatim
49. Reality television drives me crazy
48. Especially the "Celebreality" shows on VH1
47. I'm hoping that one day television will just be about actors and news again; you know, people with actual talent
46. Andy and I have been together for eight and a half years
45. Our original wedding date was two days ago
44. We just celebrated our two year wedding anniversary
43. We met when we were 17
42. We worked together
41. We have always had matching Jeeps
40. I went to elementary school and middle school in the same building
39. My parents separated when I was 18 months old
38. My dad passed away when I was 18 years old
37. I have a scar on my left eyelid from a car accident I was in when I was eight
36. I wasn't wearing my seat belt
35. The surgeon who gave me stitches was color blind
34. That made me sad
33. I never had an alcoholic beverage until six months after my twenty first birthday
32. It was a Parrot Bay and Pineapple
31. I think the second one was an amaretto sour
30. I've never smoked a cigarette
29. The smoke from cigarettes gives me sinus infections
28. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday
27. My favorite color is purple
26. I've been picking out my clothes and dressing myself since I was 3
25. I went through a phase where all I would wear was purple
24. Now I only have three purple items in my closet
23. If eggs are overcooked I won't eat them
22. My mom, brother and I lived with my grandparents until my mom got remarried
21. I refused to move out of the only home I'd ever known
20. So I lived with them during the week and with my parents on weekends
19. I didn't have my own cell phone until I was 20
18. That was only because I went away to college
17. I don't mind doing laundry
16. But I hate folding it
15. I'm an introvert
14. Watermelon is my favorite fruit
13. But whenever I eat it I have to pee, a lot
12. I have thirteen first cousins
11. My extended family is huge
10. I know most of them by name
9. I have an elephant's memory
8. I graduated from college with a 3.6 GPA
7. That would have been a lot higher if my math teacher had known what the hell he was doing
6. I've never had a speeding ticket, yet
5. Esther is my favorite book in the bible
4. I had a pulled pork sandwich for lunch today
3. We get our mail at a post office box
2. I grew up in the birthplace of Lowes Home Improvement and Nascar racing
1. I love reading
If you made it all the way through that you deserve a treat. I almost didn't make it myself.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Back in action
Nearly two months after my last run I finally got my ass in gear this morning. I've been making false promises to myself for weeks now that I was going to get back out there and burn some tennis shoe rubber, but it never happened. Something clicked when I woke up this morning and I decided that today was the day. I knew I would need to start slow because it had been so long and before that I wasn't a runner. Baby steps people.
I actually felt really good for about the first nine minutes and then things went downhill. I got a cramp in my side because I've forgotten how to breathe correctly. So after ten minutes I walked for three and started back up again. Five minutes later my cramp was back in full swing so I just did my cool down walk and went home. I actually feel pretty good about it though. My goal was to run at least fifteen minutes and that's what I did, even if I did have a break.
Breathing was really the only problem, so once I get that under control again I should be up to my old times in just a few days.
Wish me luck!
I actually felt really good for about the first nine minutes and then things went downhill. I got a cramp in my side because I've forgotten how to breathe correctly. So after ten minutes I walked for three and started back up again. Five minutes later my cramp was back in full swing so I just did my cool down walk and went home. I actually feel pretty good about it though. My goal was to run at least fifteen minutes and that's what I did, even if I did have a break.
Breathing was really the only problem, so once I get that under control again I should be up to my old times in just a few days.
Wish me luck!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Seven days, and counting
If you haven't seen the previews for Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist, then you must be living under a rock. I don't remember the last time I was this excited about a movie, and I have no idea why this one appeals to me so much. What I do know is that next Friday, October 3, I will be at the local theater, ticket in hand. I'm probably going to be there stag because I have yet to find anyone who shares my enthusiasm, but that's ok. All you haters are going to be sorry that you missed it.
Friday, September 26, 2008
The one I've been avoiding
In the fall of 1992 something happened that forever changed my view of politics and political conversation. In case you don't remember, 1992 was the year Bill Clinton was elected to his first Presidential term. It was also the year that my parents (my mom and step dad) got married. And it was in that same year that they nearly divorced. Over the election.
They married in March of that year. Just in time for the election season to get into gear. Since I couldn't vote for another eight years I didn't pay a whole lot of attention to the political madness. We talked about it in school and on election night I had to color in a map of the US according to which candidate won which state. But other than that the most I remember about the political front was how my parents disagreed on which candidate to vote for. I don't remember the conversation getting heated-that is until election day rolled around.
We were all home for the night and my parents started talking about their poll experience that day, skirting the issue that eventually sparked their conflict. My step dad finally asked my mom who she voted for. She didn't want to say, so she just looked at him. That look told him everything he needed to know. She had not, in fact, voted how he would have liked. That is to say, she didn't vote the same way he had. As a matter of fact, I'm not sure that she voted for a single thing the same way he had on that particular ticket.
And then came the rage, from both of them. I'm not sure exactly why my step dad was upset. There are two possible reasons. 1) He thought that she should vote like he told her because he was her husband and she should be subservient, or 2) His political convictions were so strong that he could not stand the idea of the other candidate winning and knowing that, if that happened, his wife would have assisted that in happening. I'm betting on number 2. My mom was just pissed off that he seemed to think her incapable of making up her own mind. She had, after all, been voting and taking care of herself long before he came along. She was an intelligent, independent woman and she could and did vote for the candidate that she thought best. Not based on his opinions or anyone else's. Her political beliefs were entirely her own, and still are.
Now don't get me wrong here. I'm not saying that one is at fault more than the other or that either should have bowed to the other's political wishes. They were both entitled to their own opinions. They, unfortunately, didn't see it that way.
I don't remember everything that was said that night. I do remember that we (my mom, my brother and I) packed a suitcase and went to stay with my grandparents that night. And the night after that I believe. Then two dozen red roses arrived with an apology and we went back home. You should know that my step dad isn't really one for romance and I can't remember a time before or after that he sent my mom flowers, and especially not two dozen of them.
Ever since that election we didn't discuss politics in our house. At least, not with each other. My mom still gets really angry at the television and talks trash to it, as if it can hear her. We just ignore her or try to keep the remote out of her hands all together.
Also, as a result of that fateful night in 1992, I don't discuss my personal politics with anyone. I do love a good debate, but usually I stay out of it unless I can assume the roll of devil's advocate. I never pick sides, at least not publicly, and no one knows who I vote for. Not even Andy.
I feel like politics are a very personal, individual thing. Much like I believe religious convictions to be an internal decision. I don't think it's anyone's business who I vote for or how I'm registered, anymore than it's their business how I worship. I try very hard not to be swayed by the opinions of those around me and I take in as much political information as I can handle, and from alternate sources so as to avoid a biased view.
What I will say is that, particularly now, it is extremely important for all those able to cast their vote this November. I hope that they are casting it as an educated American, and not as someone who comes to the polls and picks who they think is better looking. An uninformed vote is just as bad as not voting at all. So, if you are going to vote this year, regardless of who you cast your vote for, please make sure you know as much about each candidate as possible. Know who you are choosing. That is all any of us can ask.
They married in March of that year. Just in time for the election season to get into gear. Since I couldn't vote for another eight years I didn't pay a whole lot of attention to the political madness. We talked about it in school and on election night I had to color in a map of the US according to which candidate won which state. But other than that the most I remember about the political front was how my parents disagreed on which candidate to vote for. I don't remember the conversation getting heated-that is until election day rolled around.
We were all home for the night and my parents started talking about their poll experience that day, skirting the issue that eventually sparked their conflict. My step dad finally asked my mom who she voted for. She didn't want to say, so she just looked at him. That look told him everything he needed to know. She had not, in fact, voted how he would have liked. That is to say, she didn't vote the same way he had. As a matter of fact, I'm not sure that she voted for a single thing the same way he had on that particular ticket.
And then came the rage, from both of them. I'm not sure exactly why my step dad was upset. There are two possible reasons. 1) He thought that she should vote like he told her because he was her husband and she should be subservient, or 2) His political convictions were so strong that he could not stand the idea of the other candidate winning and knowing that, if that happened, his wife would have assisted that in happening. I'm betting on number 2. My mom was just pissed off that he seemed to think her incapable of making up her own mind. She had, after all, been voting and taking care of herself long before he came along. She was an intelligent, independent woman and she could and did vote for the candidate that she thought best. Not based on his opinions or anyone else's. Her political beliefs were entirely her own, and still are.
Now don't get me wrong here. I'm not saying that one is at fault more than the other or that either should have bowed to the other's political wishes. They were both entitled to their own opinions. They, unfortunately, didn't see it that way.
I don't remember everything that was said that night. I do remember that we (my mom, my brother and I) packed a suitcase and went to stay with my grandparents that night. And the night after that I believe. Then two dozen red roses arrived with an apology and we went back home. You should know that my step dad isn't really one for romance and I can't remember a time before or after that he sent my mom flowers, and especially not two dozen of them.
Ever since that election we didn't discuss politics in our house. At least, not with each other. My mom still gets really angry at the television and talks trash to it, as if it can hear her. We just ignore her or try to keep the remote out of her hands all together.
Also, as a result of that fateful night in 1992, I don't discuss my personal politics with anyone. I do love a good debate, but usually I stay out of it unless I can assume the roll of devil's advocate. I never pick sides, at least not publicly, and no one knows who I vote for. Not even Andy.
I feel like politics are a very personal, individual thing. Much like I believe religious convictions to be an internal decision. I don't think it's anyone's business who I vote for or how I'm registered, anymore than it's their business how I worship. I try very hard not to be swayed by the opinions of those around me and I take in as much political information as I can handle, and from alternate sources so as to avoid a biased view.
What I will say is that, particularly now, it is extremely important for all those able to cast their vote this November. I hope that they are casting it as an educated American, and not as someone who comes to the polls and picks who they think is better looking. An uninformed vote is just as bad as not voting at all. So, if you are going to vote this year, regardless of who you cast your vote for, please make sure you know as much about each candidate as possible. Know who you are choosing. That is all any of us can ask.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Girlfriends
This past Tuesday I made a b-line for Blockbuster because it was the release date of The Sex and the City movie, which I had not yet seen. I think I may be the only person left on the planet who hadn't seen it. Well, except for my BFF Julie, who, like me, often finds herself with the option of going to the theater alone or waiting for the movie to come out on DVD. As I didn't make it to the theater alone to see it; I've been counting down the days to September 23 for a while now.
So Tuesday afternoon I turned out all the lights and shut the curtains tight in our living room and hunkered down for the long haul.
I loved it! I thought it was fantastic and gave a little more closure than the ending of the show did. Although, I have heard rumors of a sequel. I'm not yet sure how I feel about that.
Though I thought the movie was brilliant and it did manage to entertain me for the entire two and half hours of its running time, it left me with a feeling of melancholy. The whole time I was watching the film, I kept thinking about my girlfriends and how much I missed them. In particular my friends from college, Jenn, Shannon and Whitney. The four of us always related to the Sex and the City characters; as I'm sure many women do given the success of the series. But each of us seemed to have characteristics that matched a particular character. We were like the SATC girls in their twenties.
There is a particular place in the film that I thought for sure whoever wrote the screenplay must have been spying on us at some point.
The scene where Charlotte craps her pants was classic and not to far from real life in my group of friends.
**names and location are left out of the following in order to protect the innocent**
We had taken one of our many road trips and were at our desired location for the night. We had inflated an air mattress in the middle of the floor (a staple to any trip we took) and we were getting ready to tuck in for the night. It had been a long day on the road and we were exhausted. This particular trip we had decided to document on video. There were always multiple cameras at our fingertips, but we had never documented any of our shenanigans on tape. What better time than the present? Each night we sat together and propped the camera up on something semi-stable in order to give a "wrap-up" of the day's events. That night was no different and we all piled onto the air mattress to tell the camera how happy we were that the driving was over and we were stationary for the moment.
We were passing around a bag of chex mix (also ever present among the four of us) and sipping on our night caps while we talked over each other and spewed our thoughts for the camera. It was like a poorly filmed episode of The View. We wrapped it up and there was a moment of silence as one of us crossed the room to turn off the camera. And then it happened. The fart heard round the world.
(I need to interject here to say that I regularly embarrass myself with my constant gaseous bowels. I am the gassiest person I know, and they had all gotten used to me at that point. But it always gives me a little thrill of pleasure when someone else looses control and lets one rip.)
Everyone froze and for a second I know they thought it was me because the perpetrator was seated right next to me. But I knew better. That fart came from the most prim and proper of us. From the one who would rather die than have us know that she ever had gas. Our own personal Charlotte. Her face turned about twenty different shades of red. My eyes grew wide and I gapped at her, but it didn't take long for me to collect myself. "DID YOU JUST FART?!" And then we lost it. She hid her face, as if the camera hadn't caught everything that had just happened and I collapsed in laughter. We all collapsed in laughter, but I think I enjoyed it the most. Our friend was human after all, and she still is human, though she hasn't let us know it since that night.
Watching the movie and remembering all the fun we've had together really made me want to pick up the phone and call everyone. I haven't called anyone yet, because there is no such thing as a short call with these girls. We so seldom see each other or even get to talk these days that when we do; we spend a lot of time catching up. Hopefully there will be a girls weekend planned soon. I know I'm desperately in need of one.
These three women gave me something I had never had before. Usually my limit was one girlfriend at a time. I never traveled in a pack. Until I met them. They taught me so much about life and friendship and I still learn from them on a regular basis. I'm forever grateful for their love and their presence in my life.
So Tuesday afternoon I turned out all the lights and shut the curtains tight in our living room and hunkered down for the long haul.
I loved it! I thought it was fantastic and gave a little more closure than the ending of the show did. Although, I have heard rumors of a sequel. I'm not yet sure how I feel about that.
Though I thought the movie was brilliant and it did manage to entertain me for the entire two and half hours of its running time, it left me with a feeling of melancholy. The whole time I was watching the film, I kept thinking about my girlfriends and how much I missed them. In particular my friends from college, Jenn, Shannon and Whitney. The four of us always related to the Sex and the City characters; as I'm sure many women do given the success of the series. But each of us seemed to have characteristics that matched a particular character. We were like the SATC girls in their twenties.
There is a particular place in the film that I thought for sure whoever wrote the screenplay must have been spying on us at some point.
The scene where Charlotte craps her pants was classic and not to far from real life in my group of friends.
**names and location are left out of the following in order to protect the innocent**
We had taken one of our many road trips and were at our desired location for the night. We had inflated an air mattress in the middle of the floor (a staple to any trip we took) and we were getting ready to tuck in for the night. It had been a long day on the road and we were exhausted. This particular trip we had decided to document on video. There were always multiple cameras at our fingertips, but we had never documented any of our shenanigans on tape. What better time than the present? Each night we sat together and propped the camera up on something semi-stable in order to give a "wrap-up" of the day's events. That night was no different and we all piled onto the air mattress to tell the camera how happy we were that the driving was over and we were stationary for the moment.
We were passing around a bag of chex mix (also ever present among the four of us) and sipping on our night caps while we talked over each other and spewed our thoughts for the camera. It was like a poorly filmed episode of The View. We wrapped it up and there was a moment of silence as one of us crossed the room to turn off the camera. And then it happened. The fart heard round the world.
(I need to interject here to say that I regularly embarrass myself with my constant gaseous bowels. I am the gassiest person I know, and they had all gotten used to me at that point. But it always gives me a little thrill of pleasure when someone else looses control and lets one rip.)
Everyone froze and for a second I know they thought it was me because the perpetrator was seated right next to me. But I knew better. That fart came from the most prim and proper of us. From the one who would rather die than have us know that she ever had gas. Our own personal Charlotte. Her face turned about twenty different shades of red. My eyes grew wide and I gapped at her, but it didn't take long for me to collect myself. "DID YOU JUST FART?!" And then we lost it. She hid her face, as if the camera hadn't caught everything that had just happened and I collapsed in laughter. We all collapsed in laughter, but I think I enjoyed it the most. Our friend was human after all, and she still is human, though she hasn't let us know it since that night.
Watching the movie and remembering all the fun we've had together really made me want to pick up the phone and call everyone. I haven't called anyone yet, because there is no such thing as a short call with these girls. We so seldom see each other or even get to talk these days that when we do; we spend a lot of time catching up. Hopefully there will be a girls weekend planned soon. I know I'm desperately in need of one.
These three women gave me something I had never had before. Usually my limit was one girlfriend at a time. I never traveled in a pack. Until I met them. They taught me so much about life and friendship and I still learn from them on a regular basis. I'm forever grateful for their love and their presence in my life.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Nirvana
No, not the band, the philosophical principal.
That is what fall is to me. And guess what? Fall has finally come around again.
There are many tangible reasons behind my love for this season: fall clothing, the changing of the leaves, the beautiful fall sky, fresh fall produce, festivals, lower temperatures, Halloween, Thanksgiving, fall decorations, new television programing, baking with cinnamon... I could go on and on.
However, the main reason that I love fall and hold it dear to my heart is totally imperceptible to anyone but me. Fall gives me a feeling; a feeling of nirvana. Something about this time of year makes everything right. Nothing can go wrong and even if it does I know it's going to be alright. Fall is my felix felicis.
It couldn't have come at a better time either. Lately, nothing seems right. Now that fall is here it is already starting to envelop me in its vast, welcoming arms and make me feel whole again; creeping it's way into my soul to heal all the wounds that have been left this past year.
It's good to have you back old friend, you've been gone too long.
That is what fall is to me. And guess what? Fall has finally come around again.
There are many tangible reasons behind my love for this season: fall clothing, the changing of the leaves, the beautiful fall sky, fresh fall produce, festivals, lower temperatures, Halloween, Thanksgiving, fall decorations, new television programing, baking with cinnamon... I could go on and on.
However, the main reason that I love fall and hold it dear to my heart is totally imperceptible to anyone but me. Fall gives me a feeling; a feeling of nirvana. Something about this time of year makes everything right. Nothing can go wrong and even if it does I know it's going to be alright. Fall is my felix felicis.
It couldn't have come at a better time either. Lately, nothing seems right. Now that fall is here it is already starting to envelop me in its vast, welcoming arms and make me feel whole again; creeping it's way into my soul to heal all the wounds that have been left this past year.
It's good to have you back old friend, you've been gone too long.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Food for thought
Here is another quote out of my book. This one brings out the religious studies major in me.
Feel free to share your thoughts in my comments section. I'd love to hear them.
**I cleaned out my side bar. It was driving me crazy. I'm still following all of the blogs that were posted there, but I'm not sharing it with the world.**
"The question is not whether we are good at theology, or 'balanced' in our approach to problems of Christian Living. The question is, can we say; simply, honestly, not because we feel that as evangelicals we ought to, but because it is a plain matter of fact, that we have known God, and that because we have known God the unpleasantness we have had, or the pleasantness we have not had, through being Christians does no matter to us?" -J.I. Packer, "Knowing God"
Feel free to share your thoughts in my comments section. I'd love to hear them.
**I cleaned out my side bar. It was driving me crazy. I'm still following all of the blogs that were posted there, but I'm not sharing it with the world.**
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Divine Intervention
How old are you and at what age did you know what you wanted to be when you grew up?
Hi, I'm Joanna and I'm 26. I'm still trying to figure out what I want to do with my life.
There is a memory in the back of my brain that resurfaces from time to time when I have these identity crises. It's a memory from my childhood. I don't know how old I was; I'm going to guess about seven or eight. I was standing on the hearth in my grandparent's dining room and we had just finished a big family meal. One of those where it's like a small family reunion and I was surrounded by not just parents, grandparents and sibling, but also a lot of my extended family. My great aunt Norma Jean was there. I don't know why she always sticks out in this particular memory, but I can always see her face as clear as if she were standing in front of me.
I had been taking art classes for a few years and it had brought out a love for creating that I had never known was inside me. Oh sure I was imaginative and I liked playing with play dough and coloring with my Crayola's, but suddenly there were endless artistic resources at my fingertips. We created and crafted and OH THE JOY! of a teacher who encouraged us to put paint brush to paper and create whatever our hearts desired. Every week she would praise us with a fervor that, now looking back I realize, only a parent could muster considering some of the ridiculous things that came out of that art room. At the tender age of seven or eight I just knew that I wanted, no needed, to do this FOREVER. I was going to be an artist!!
But, somehow I also knew there wouldn't be any (much) money in creating beautiful works of art. I had never heard of a famous (read rich) artist. I knew I had to have a back up plan, or an alternate career that would allow me to produce my masterpieces, but still make a living.
My family knew of my love for my art classes and I'm pretty sure I had been showing off some of my spectacular work. Someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. They were, of course, prompting me to say that I wanted to be an artist so that they could praise me some more and encourage me in my endeavors, knowing that I probably would give it up as a hobby and decide on a more practical career path. But who were they to squash the dreams of a budding Monet at seven years old?
I obliged them. Beaming, I answered that I wanted to be an artist when I grew up. Oh, but I didn't stop there. I was going to be a lawyer and a doctor and an artist during my spare time. There was a silent pause, no doubt they were trying to figure out an appropriate way to respond to this revelation, and then they all laughed. Loud, booming, belly laughs. I was crushed. I don't remember exactly what all was said, but my Aunt Norma Jean was the only one who seemed the least bit encouraging about my chosen career path(s). Really, it's the laughter that stands out the most in my memory.
For six years I was the youngest member of my family and I delighted in every ray of spotlight that was shone on me. Sometimes I even demanded it. The only time I ever shied away from being doted on was when someone laughed at me. I was serious about everything I said and did and I never could understand why anyone would laugh. It usually crushed my world and sent me over the edge of the waterfall into tear land. I think this particular memory stands out because I knew there was something behind the laughter. I hadn't done something cute (at least I didn't think so) and I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what the underlying tone was in those laughs.
It took me a long time to figure out exactly why they had laughed. They were laughing, not just at the ridiculous nature of my goals, but because I truly did believe I could do ANYTHING that I set my mind to. That's what my mother had told me. That's what they taught me in school. I was encouraged to think that way. What they didn't tell me was the reality of the situation. I could, in fact, do whatever I wanted. I could choose any path I wanted to take and I would have my entire family there to coach and encourage me along the way. But (and there is always a but), life is fleeting. We only have so much time. Sure, I could be a doctor and a lawyer and an artist, but when was I going to have time to live my life? Now, as I look back, I think they were laughing so that they didn't cry. In too short a time I was going to realize that I had to pick a path and stick with it. There wasn't going to be enough time to achieve all of my goals that I set on that day nearly twenty years ago. No one had the heart to break it to me, so they just laughed.
Now as an adult my goals are no more focused than they were when I was a wide eyed and hopeful child. I'm not a doctor or a lawyer, and depending on what your definition of artist is, I may or may not be that either. There are lots of words that can be used to define me: wife, daughter, sister, aunt, granddaughter, niece, cousin, anal retentive control freak; but none of those tell me what I want to DO with my life. What will define me? What is my purpose?
I was looking through one of my old quote books earlier today and I found the following quote that I copied out of a religious studies book from college. It gave me a much needed lift:
Hi, I'm Joanna and I'm 26. I'm still trying to figure out what I want to do with my life.
There is a memory in the back of my brain that resurfaces from time to time when I have these identity crises. It's a memory from my childhood. I don't know how old I was; I'm going to guess about seven or eight. I was standing on the hearth in my grandparent's dining room and we had just finished a big family meal. One of those where it's like a small family reunion and I was surrounded by not just parents, grandparents and sibling, but also a lot of my extended family. My great aunt Norma Jean was there. I don't know why she always sticks out in this particular memory, but I can always see her face as clear as if she were standing in front of me.
I had been taking art classes for a few years and it had brought out a love for creating that I had never known was inside me. Oh sure I was imaginative and I liked playing with play dough and coloring with my Crayola's, but suddenly there were endless artistic resources at my fingertips. We created and crafted and OH THE JOY! of a teacher who encouraged us to put paint brush to paper and create whatever our hearts desired. Every week she would praise us with a fervor that, now looking back I realize, only a parent could muster considering some of the ridiculous things that came out of that art room. At the tender age of seven or eight I just knew that I wanted, no needed, to do this FOREVER. I was going to be an artist!!
But, somehow I also knew there wouldn't be any (much) money in creating beautiful works of art. I had never heard of a famous (read rich) artist. I knew I had to have a back up plan, or an alternate career that would allow me to produce my masterpieces, but still make a living.
My family knew of my love for my art classes and I'm pretty sure I had been showing off some of my spectacular work. Someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. They were, of course, prompting me to say that I wanted to be an artist so that they could praise me some more and encourage me in my endeavors, knowing that I probably would give it up as a hobby and decide on a more practical career path. But who were they to squash the dreams of a budding Monet at seven years old?
I obliged them. Beaming, I answered that I wanted to be an artist when I grew up. Oh, but I didn't stop there. I was going to be a lawyer and a doctor and an artist during my spare time. There was a silent pause, no doubt they were trying to figure out an appropriate way to respond to this revelation, and then they all laughed. Loud, booming, belly laughs. I was crushed. I don't remember exactly what all was said, but my Aunt Norma Jean was the only one who seemed the least bit encouraging about my chosen career path(s). Really, it's the laughter that stands out the most in my memory.
For six years I was the youngest member of my family and I delighted in every ray of spotlight that was shone on me. Sometimes I even demanded it. The only time I ever shied away from being doted on was when someone laughed at me. I was serious about everything I said and did and I never could understand why anyone would laugh. It usually crushed my world and sent me over the edge of the waterfall into tear land. I think this particular memory stands out because I knew there was something behind the laughter. I hadn't done something cute (at least I didn't think so) and I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what the underlying tone was in those laughs.
It took me a long time to figure out exactly why they had laughed. They were laughing, not just at the ridiculous nature of my goals, but because I truly did believe I could do ANYTHING that I set my mind to. That's what my mother had told me. That's what they taught me in school. I was encouraged to think that way. What they didn't tell me was the reality of the situation. I could, in fact, do whatever I wanted. I could choose any path I wanted to take and I would have my entire family there to coach and encourage me along the way. But (and there is always a but), life is fleeting. We only have so much time. Sure, I could be a doctor and a lawyer and an artist, but when was I going to have time to live my life? Now, as I look back, I think they were laughing so that they didn't cry. In too short a time I was going to realize that I had to pick a path and stick with it. There wasn't going to be enough time to achieve all of my goals that I set on that day nearly twenty years ago. No one had the heart to break it to me, so they just laughed.
Now as an adult my goals are no more focused than they were when I was a wide eyed and hopeful child. I'm not a doctor or a lawyer, and depending on what your definition of artist is, I may or may not be that either. There are lots of words that can be used to define me: wife, daughter, sister, aunt, granddaughter, niece, cousin, anal retentive control freak; but none of those tell me what I want to DO with my life. What will define me? What is my purpose?
I was looking through one of my old quote books earlier today and I found the following quote that I copied out of a religious studies book from college. It gave me a much needed lift:
"...God has a purpose with each of us; that however insignificant we seem, however friendless, however hardly used, however ousted even from our natural place in this world's households,
God has a place for us; that however we lose our way in life we are not lost from His eye; that even when we do not think of choosing Him He in His Divine, all-embracing love chooses us, and throws about us bands from which we cannot escape." -Marcus Dods, The Expositor's Bible
God has a place for us; that however we lose our way in life we are not lost from His eye; that even when we do not think of choosing Him He in His Divine, all-embracing love chooses us, and throws about us bands from which we cannot escape." -Marcus Dods, The Expositor's Bible
Every time I read this it makes me feel a little bit better. It isn't the all encompassing answer I was looking for, but it gives me hope. It reminds me that my definition isn't finished yet, and I have the rest of my life to write it.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Writer's block?
Um, not so much. As a matter of fact I have anything but writer's block. I wake up daily with all kinds of crazy thoughts swirling around in my head.
So what's the problem? In my head all these thoughts link. They connect and it makes sense. But writing them out and publishing them for the interwebs to read? That is a little tricky. I have seriously considered sitting down here at my blog and just letting my stream of consciousness have it's way with a post. Then I remind myself that I can barely sort through my own thoughts, much less expect anyone who reads this mess to understand how I got from what to make for dinner that night to the current state of the economy to how I can get both of the bunnies to use their litter boxes all of the time.
I usually spend my time in the shower trying to sort it all out. I know. Crazy right? I promise myself that as soon as I get out of the shower I'm going to sit my ass in front of the computer and give you all what you want: The inner workings of my confusing brain. No? That isn't what you want? Well, then I guess that's why I haven't shared my thoughts with you in a while. Or because I confuse myself and by the time I get out of the shower I can't remember what I was planning on writing about.
These days things seem so uncertain. Once upon a time that would have been exciting to me, but now, not so much. I want to know. What is going to happen with the world we are living in? What is going to happen in my own life? If any of you can see the future please feel free to share it with me. It might help put my mind at ease. Or not. Either way, I'd like to know.
One thing I am certain of is that change is coming. I'm not just talking about what is happening with the presidential election or with our economy. I mean in my own life; change is coming. I can feel it. It isn't often that I get such a conviction, but I know that somehow something is going to be different in my life. Good or bad I can't tell, but different for sure.
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On a completely different note! I need to take a moment to wish a happy anniversary to Julie and Frank. Julie is my best friend and has been for nearly eleven years now. She and Frank got married exactly two weeks after Andy and I did.
I don't have a picture of them at their wedding. My beloved friend is not so good with sharing pictures online. I do have this one though, from the first time Julie met Frank's parents. I'm not sure why I have this. Perhaps it's because Julie forced me to do her makeup for the evening and stole my diamond hoop earrings (just for the night) and she thought I should have a memento for all of my hard work. Or it could be because she looks so damn cute and she knew that many years later I would have an outlet to share their picture with everyone in the world . So here you go world, Julie and Frank six and a half years ago:
Now, while I don't have a picture of Julie and Frank on their wedding day, I do have a picture of she and I on her wedding day. Because really, is the groom that important? I did her makeup this day too and her hair to boot. Really, you flatter me with your applause.
Happy Anniversary you guys!!! I hope you have many, many more.
**I read this post in my actual blog after I published it. I thought my eyes were going to pop out after trying to read the white on black. Why didn't someone tell me? Ouch. Sorry guys, that won't happen again.**
So what's the problem? In my head all these thoughts link. They connect and it makes sense. But writing them out and publishing them for the interwebs to read? That is a little tricky. I have seriously considered sitting down here at my blog and just letting my stream of consciousness have it's way with a post. Then I remind myself that I can barely sort through my own thoughts, much less expect anyone who reads this mess to understand how I got from what to make for dinner that night to the current state of the economy to how I can get both of the bunnies to use their litter boxes all of the time.
I usually spend my time in the shower trying to sort it all out. I know. Crazy right? I promise myself that as soon as I get out of the shower I'm going to sit my ass in front of the computer and give you all what you want: The inner workings of my confusing brain. No? That isn't what you want? Well, then I guess that's why I haven't shared my thoughts with you in a while. Or because I confuse myself and by the time I get out of the shower I can't remember what I was planning on writing about.
These days things seem so uncertain. Once upon a time that would have been exciting to me, but now, not so much. I want to know. What is going to happen with the world we are living in? What is going to happen in my own life? If any of you can see the future please feel free to share it with me. It might help put my mind at ease. Or not. Either way, I'd like to know.
One thing I am certain of is that change is coming. I'm not just talking about what is happening with the presidential election or with our economy. I mean in my own life; change is coming. I can feel it. It isn't often that I get such a conviction, but I know that somehow something is going to be different in my life. Good or bad I can't tell, but different for sure.
*************************************************************************************
On a completely different note! I need to take a moment to wish a happy anniversary to Julie and Frank. Julie is my best friend and has been for nearly eleven years now. She and Frank got married exactly two weeks after Andy and I did.
I don't have a picture of them at their wedding. My beloved friend is not so good with sharing pictures online. I do have this one though, from the first time Julie met Frank's parents. I'm not sure why I have this. Perhaps it's because Julie forced me to do her makeup for the evening and stole my diamond hoop earrings (just for the night) and she thought I should have a memento for all of my hard work. Or it could be because she looks so damn cute and she knew that many years later I would have an outlet to share their picture with everyone in the world . So here you go world, Julie and Frank six and a half years ago:
Now, while I don't have a picture of Julie and Frank on their wedding day, I do have a picture of she and I on her wedding day. Because really, is the groom that important? I did her makeup this day too and her hair to boot. Really, you flatter me with your applause.Happy Anniversary you guys!!! I hope you have many, many more.**I read this post in my actual blog after I published it. I thought my eyes were going to pop out after trying to read the white on black. Why didn't someone tell me? Ouch. Sorry guys, that won't happen again.**
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
11:35
That's what time Andy got home.
No deer. Matt shot one, but they couldn't find it. They searched for 3 hours.
Andy did, however, see a bear cub. And as we all know, where there are cubs, there are much larger mama bears. Fabulous.
No deer. Matt shot one, but they couldn't find it. They searched for 3 hours.
Andy did, however, see a bear cub. And as we all know, where there are cubs, there are much larger mama bears. Fabulous.
Where's Andy???
Andy came home from work at 4:30 and said he was going hunting. It is now 20 minutes after 10. He isn't home yet.
This can mean one of two things:
1) He killed a deer and is dealing with all that entails, and I need to make room in my very full freezer.
2) He is hurt/passed out in the woods God knows where and I have no way of knowing or finding him. I'd call him but he has no cell reception and I don't know the number to his friend's house where he hunts.
If he isn't dead, next time he will leave me more equipped to deal with option number 2.
This can mean one of two things:
1) He killed a deer and is dealing with all that entails, and I need to make room in my very full freezer.
2) He is hurt/passed out in the woods God knows where and I have no way of knowing or finding him. I'd call him but he has no cell reception and I don't know the number to his friend's house where he hunts.
If he isn't dead, next time he will leave me more equipped to deal with option number 2.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Run Bambi!!
If you were awakened in the wee hours this morning by a loud rumble on your road or in your nearby forest; don't fret. That was just the sound of thousands of trucks and ATVs making their way to hunting destinations statewide before the sun rose.
Andy slept on the couch last night to make sure he could get up this morning. I'm not sure what the logic was behind that, but it must have worked because he was gone when I came out to check this morning at 7:30. I don't expect him back before nightfall.
Andy slept on the couch last night to make sure he could get up this morning. I'm not sure what the logic was behind that, but it must have worked because he was gone when I came out to check this morning at 7:30. I don't expect him back before nightfall.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Reminiscence
Andy and I are going to sit down and look at our wedding album later tonight. I just finished it a few months ago, so this is the first anniversary that we won't have to view our pictures on a computer screen.
Here is a sampling of what we'll be looking at tonight. Enjoy!
The bottom of my shoes
I did this myself
My mom and I had matching shoes
Ashley had the ring situation under control
Seeing Andy for the first time
Andy seeing me for the first time
Pinning on his boutonnière
Portrait in the stairwell
One of the few good ones I have of Andy
The boys
The girls
Saying our vows
Isn't the church beautiful?
Right after the ceremony
A moment alone before everyone joined us
One of the gifts waiting for us 
The cake and cupcakes
(Julie and I made those green fondant hearts
and stamped them with an "S" to match the caked topper)
Cutting the cake
Andy thought my garter was up too high
He was embarrassed
Goodbye!
Here is a sampling of what we'll be looking at tonight. Enjoy!
Jenn put on my earrings (something blue)
while Julie laced up my dress
while Julie laced up my dress
The bottom of my shoesI did this myself
My mom and I had matching shoes
Ashley had the ring situation under control
Seeing Andy for the first time
Andy seeing me for the first time
Pinning on his boutonnière
Portrait in the stairwell
One of the few good ones I have of Andy
The boys
The girls
Saying our vows
Isn't the church beautiful?
Right after the ceremony
A moment alone before everyone joined us
One of the gifts waiting for us 
The cake and cupcakes(Julie and I made those green fondant hearts
and stamped them with an "S" to match the caked topper)
Cutting the cake
Andy thought my garter was up too highHe was embarrassed
Goodbye!
Monday, September 1, 2008
Book review: The Twilight Series
I have read the books twice now in about 2 weeks. If you have not read them yet, go now and get them. I'm not kidding. Right this second. Go.
It's easy reading because the books are geared towards young adult readers. But the story is awesome, and if you are like me and you harbor a secret love of vampire folklore, you'll love them even more.
I'd read them through again if I thought that Andy wouldn't get annoyed with me. I'm going to move on to Jane Austen... for now.
It's easy reading because the books are geared towards young adult readers. But the story is awesome, and if you are like me and you harbor a secret love of vampire folklore, you'll love them even more.
I'd read them through again if I thought that Andy wouldn't get annoyed with me. I'm going to move on to Jane Austen... for now.
2 years
Thats how long Andy and I have been married as of tomorrow. Time flies. I've been reflecting a lot lately on my age and my life and I'm struggling with the concept that I'm a 26 year old married woman. Not that I don't love my husband and our life together, but sometimes it's hard to wrap my head around the fact that I'm an adult. Sometimes I feel like a teenager who is playing house. Any minute someone is going to bust into my house and say, "Ok! The jigg is up! You aren't old enough for this!"
Seriously. Where did the time go? Didn't I just celebrate my 20th birthday? No? That was six and a half years ago? Whatever you say chief...
We are still undecided about what to do to celebrate. I would just be happy to sit at home with some wine, some movie rentals and no cell phones. Right now that is my dream date. I don't care if that sounds boring. If, after two years of married and 8 years of being a couple, we aren't entitled to sit on the couch together and do nothing, please tell me when that time comes. How old do I have to be to be boring? That will give me something to look forward to.
Right now I'm thinking about what was happening two years ago at this time. I think it's right about the time I had my first real bridezilla moment. I was at my parents house with Andy and most of my bridesmaids and I was trying to get some last minute things accomplished, but no one was listening to me. They were all busy catching up with each other's lives. Which, don't get me wrong, I appreciate that we hadn't seen each other in a while. But hello! I was getting married in just over 24 hours and I needed some extra hands. I needed them to work while they talked. So I had a little fit and started handing out assignments like a drill sergeant. But I think everyone forgave me pretty quickly. As bridezillas go I wasn't as horrible as I think everyone had expected, so if that was the worst of it they would take it with a smile.
Afterwards we headed to the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Honestly I think I enjoyed that day more than my actual wedding day. I did love my wedding and it was a wonderful time, but the day before seemed so much more relaxed. I could spend time with my closest family and friends without the pressure of promising my life to someone else forever.
It was truly a wonderful time and I still feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude to everyone who worked so hard to make those two days possible. No amount of thank yous can express how grateful I am to all those people. I won't start naming names because I'll forget someone. I think I'm one of the few people who would do it all over again and love every minute of it, again.
I'll leave you with a picture of us on our special day to help commemorate the countdown. Tune in tomorrow when I'll bombard you with pictures of us. Because I know you care so much.
Seriously. Where did the time go? Didn't I just celebrate my 20th birthday? No? That was six and a half years ago? Whatever you say chief...
We are still undecided about what to do to celebrate. I would just be happy to sit at home with some wine, some movie rentals and no cell phones. Right now that is my dream date. I don't care if that sounds boring. If, after two years of married and 8 years of being a couple, we aren't entitled to sit on the couch together and do nothing, please tell me when that time comes. How old do I have to be to be boring? That will give me something to look forward to.
Right now I'm thinking about what was happening two years ago at this time. I think it's right about the time I had my first real bridezilla moment. I was at my parents house with Andy and most of my bridesmaids and I was trying to get some last minute things accomplished, but no one was listening to me. They were all busy catching up with each other's lives. Which, don't get me wrong, I appreciate that we hadn't seen each other in a while. But hello! I was getting married in just over 24 hours and I needed some extra hands. I needed them to work while they talked. So I had a little fit and started handing out assignments like a drill sergeant. But I think everyone forgave me pretty quickly. As bridezillas go I wasn't as horrible as I think everyone had expected, so if that was the worst of it they would take it with a smile.
Afterwards we headed to the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Honestly I think I enjoyed that day more than my actual wedding day. I did love my wedding and it was a wonderful time, but the day before seemed so much more relaxed. I could spend time with my closest family and friends without the pressure of promising my life to someone else forever.
It was truly a wonderful time and I still feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude to everyone who worked so hard to make those two days possible. No amount of thank yous can express how grateful I am to all those people. I won't start naming names because I'll forget someone. I think I'm one of the few people who would do it all over again and love every minute of it, again.
I'll leave you with a picture of us on our special day to help commemorate the countdown. Tune in tomorrow when I'll bombard you with pictures of us. Because I know you care so much.
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