It is definitely NOT Tuesday. It is Monday again.

I woke up an hour late to find a super sexy fever blister on my face. I arrived to work to a computer that was locked and all of our IT people were out for the morning. I realized that I still have 13 people to shop for on my Christmas list and only one night to complete the task. I sat on hold with the pharmacy for 41 minutes to be hung up on and then 30 min later be told that my prescription cannot be filled. The meeting I have been preparing for for days, was canceled 30 minutes before I was scheduled to leave. I just confirmed attending a Christmas party tomorrow night that I forgot about until the call came in for the head count. Ahhhh!!!

Its the most wonderful time of the year...

Louisiana…It is 76 degrees in December and I’m hobbling down Magazine Street with a broken foot in a boot and Chloe. I have a list, but one of mostly just names without any ideas beside them. We parked on an end where I have not shopped before and it was a haven for children's toys, and while a tad overpriced, very unique kids gifts. Somewhere between the “bubble gum factory” and the “Make your own Tutu” kits I snagged, the lighted store fronts offered us a tiny gust of Christmas spirit. I finished over half of the “kid gift” shopping in about an hour and a half. The only problem is that now I have to shop for the adults. Regardless, I love Christmas and am fighting my usual tendency to go a little overboard. So in the spirit of the holiday and a minimalist approach to the art of finding the perfect gift; the one that screams at you instead of catches your eye as an afterthought, I am going to enjoy the shopping, decorating, baking and even my #1 on the “if you were on a desert island” drink-hot chocolate EVEN IF it is all while wearing mini dresses and sandals.

Attempt at Accountability

There was "Getting fine in 09," then "Staying Thin in 2010," now, after a broken foot and my last year of my masters degree... I've got 12 weeks to be beach ready.

Summer’s wedding is in 12 weeks…wedding as in El Dorado Royal Resort, bikinis and “flowy” tops and dresses that highlight any winter weight like a neon “SLOTS” sign at a truck stop. So, in light of looking my best I have a plan.

The Victoria’s “not much left of a” Secret Fashion show is tonight at 9. I made an excel sheet that is posted front and center in my office for my weight and measurements. Fake tanning lotion is on order and crest white strips are in tow.

I’m hoping that my pre wedding shopping will further encourage my weight loss/get fit plan. I already have a pair of shimmer shorts and a j crew linen top picked out that requires me to have slender limbs and a flat stomach.

So for the sake of a speedy jump into summer weight and accountability…no more tiramisu, fleur-di-lis pizza or…breathe…imported beer.

"Before" pic to come...eh.

What I don’t understand

I know what drink you order and how you like your poor boy dressed.
I know what school you went to and who you took to prom.

I know what you dream about and what you are scared of;
Who broke your heart and whose heart you broke.

What few deserts you eat and which veggies you eat cooked or raw.

I know the first thing you play every time you pick up your guitar and that you never change the strings on time.

I know the “go to” jokes that make you laugh and what teams you’re watching.

What I don’t understand, is why you don’t want to know these things about me.

I've been lonely before

He made me laugh, He made me cry
He smoked his stogies in bed
But I'm all right, I'm all right
I've been lonely before

I asked the boy for a few kind words
He gave me a novel instead
But I'm all right, I'm all right
I've been lonely before

Its fine, it's okay
It was wrong either way
I just wanted to say
There isn't much fun when you're drinking for one

He got drunk, he fell down
He threw a few of my things around
But I'm all right, I'm all right
I've been lonely before

I'd like to believe that it's easy to leave
But I have to conceive that wherever you are
You're still driving my car

Sticks and stones break my bones
But tears don't leave any scars
so I'm all alright, I'm all alright
I've been lonely before

He played solitaire in bed
Used to blow bubbles in bed
He sang Christmas songs in bed

Happy with Blisters

The weekend in Memphis left me with burning eyes, a bubbly stomach and yet another broken iphone.

Zoe’s 6th birthday was a success and I’m fairly certain I did a decent job of picking out the perfect gift of Zhu Zhu pets and accessories.

Ribs and Blues, Football and beer, go-carts and bumper cars, 90s dancing and Wet Willy’s, Peabody ducks, sleeping late, fine wine and unlimited pizza.

I honestly don’t know what else I could have accomplished in a three day period, but, I am grateful that I decided not to go to the LSU game.

my new love...

the paint sprayer

Rededicated

It wasn’t until I took a break from blogging, that I realized how many people read it. Honestly, the truth is, so much has happened that I have not had time to write.

Today I decided to rededicate my eating out funds. I spend about 10 bucks a day for lunch on average. Dinner is usually the same, or less since it is just me at home. But since a few things are changing in my life, I decided it was time for a financial change. I am half way through my “debt free” push, my house is under complete remodel and I’m sure I’ll be flying around the country more and more….so here I am….rededicated…staring at a bowl of tomato soup while Keycha is out having pizza and the break room is filled with Major Menu go-plates that smell like fried food.  I’m going to try and stay as positive as I can-after all; I do own a home, a car, and have 55 inches of free entertainment in my living room.

I'm trying to read my Bible as much as my sappy novels-which is proving to be more rewarding than even my new workout schedule.

The job hunt continues, as I am settling into a new spot at Wildlife and Fisheries, in an office FINALLY surrounded by people that I actually want to socialize with, yet I am completely unsettled. My final paper for summer school was submitted this morning marking the start of my LAST year of graduate school so I am not too discouraged. I know that with the degree comes more opportunity.

My health is a miracle, the Dr. even said so this morning and I am optimistic about the future my cervix and I have with Mr. Right.

I am missing friends and now is the season to get reconnected with them before the Fall takes over and leaves me swamped in school work. I am anxious about a football season without my “safe haven” group that I have tailgated with, but I’m sure it will be just as fun with my girls.

So, yes,

Nana-work and life are good, Kent DID move to Chicago,

Dad-Cheryl's baby is fine,

Lauren-I do want to share a pitcher,

Scott-please help me NOT leave for lunch,

and to answer the other 400 emails and facebook messages, with an acid reflux inducing slurp-

I’m back.

just a little change of perspective

Today I learned that people talk to themselves in “self-talk” anywhere from 150 to 300 words a minute.

So in the car, as hyper sensitive as I usually am, I’m thinking…

Turn here (1), not too sharp (2), keep my purse from falling over (3), put on your seatbelt (4), light, come on…, speed up, stupid driver, when does the produce stand open?, I wonder when my meeting starts, why does my phone die all the time, wash car, pick up library books…

I don’t know where the general public falls on self-talking, but I am definatly on the higher end of personal narrative numbers.

So, these thoughts have been following me through my day and I have realized that in light of my “don’t think less of yourself; but think of yourself less” theme-most of my soliloquies are focused on my “feelings.”

I feel tired; I feel out of shape, I wonder if I will ever FEEEEL like getting out of bed early. I love when I feel relaxed. I am feeling on top of the world…until I feel defeated.

So, in this realization I realized that while I have always known that people are their own worst critics…we also talk to ourselves like we would never think of speaking to someone else.

In my effort to not be judgmental and speak only positive or encouraging words-I forgot to consider how I speak to myself.

I FEEL conversations should be I AM conversations.

When I feel defeated, I AM a winner.

When I feel unattractive or out of shape, I AM created wonderfully.

When I feel afraid, I AM more than a conqueror.

For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. Ephesians 2:10

*

"You wish for something, you've wanted it for years, and you're sure you want it, as long as you know you can't have it. But if all at once it looks as though your wish might come true, you suddenly find yourself wishing you had never wished for any such thing."


— Michael Ende The Neverending Story

Brett Dennen...you did it again

Beyond the rules of religion

The cloth of conviction
Above all the competition
Where fact and fiction meet

There`s no color lines or casts or classes
There is no fooling the masses
Whatever faith you practice
Whatever you believe

Heaven. heaven.
What the hell is heaven?
Is there a home for the homeless?
Is there hope for the hopeless?

Throw away your myth misconceptions
There ain`t no walls around heaven
There are no codes you gotta know to get in
No minutemen or border patrol

You must lose all earthly possession
Leave behind your weapon
You cannot buy your salvation
There is no pot of gold

Heaven ain`t got no prisons
No government no business
No banks or politicians
No armies and no police

Castles and cathedrals crumble
Pyramids and pipelines tumble
The failure keeps you humble
Leads us closer to peace

Love is satisfied in God

The Lord will continually guide you, and satisfy your desire.  Isaiah 58:11

Your friend will cross the line and let a secret slip.

You will “never find” your spouse, or they will come home late.

Your family will always ask more than you can give them far past what feels like your last dime.

Your new outfit will go unnoticed and your efforts around the house.

You will expect too much and continually be let down.

I have realized that some of my demands are unreasonable, I am human.

It is hard to remember times when I was “anxious for nothing;” when prayer, supplication and thanksgiving were how I delivered my request to Him. I do remember peace…and vividly I remember it truly surpassing my understanding. 

No one can give me peace but God.

The things that I need in my life, only God can satisfy and I had forgotten this.

A friend, a confidant even a stranger can meet some of my needs-but only God can do it all.

I need love. I need acceptance and I need joy.

I have expected all of this to come from others so I have not depended on him.

I have laid down these needs and stuffed them right back in my heart to carry around with me.

My looks, health, friendships, intentions, affections and bank account will all change.

I have looked to all of these, and again, they have changed.

His faithfulness, His truth, and His promises to me will remain.

My only reason, once I remove the excuses, is that I have not trusted God to supply what I need.

While I am not the Samaritan woman at the well, I too have tried to meet needs through friendships and relationships and again and again am found broken standing with just an empty bucket.

Lately I don’t “feel like” much, but I have a feeling if I push forward and seek only him I will find myself right where I belong.

God is enough and always on time.

Sigh...

God doesn’t call the qualified, He qualifies the called.


I have been reading this over and over realizing that it is time for a change.

It is time to not just say what I want to do, but time to do it.

I have been putting question marks where God put a period.

So...Wow

Man comes out of the barber shop and says..."well, would you vote for him?"
-I dont see why not.

listen

I live fast and love hard.

I cry often and harder.

When will I get it right?

I want simple things:

to make music, art and laughter.

Today, I will start treating myself like I do others.

I will listen to my heart, comfort myself and encourage my impossible.

What I want...

I want to work from an office and from home.

I want to sing in musicals and write childrens books.

I want to listen to music everyday, except when it is raining.

I want to read my children books I have written and have them eat their favorite dessert in my resturant.

I want to teach them to not be scared to live.

Back to the middle

I am placed in two extremes
where I serve, or I am queen.
Where power is passed from you to me
or is held just out of reach.

I wake up knowing that you chose me,
then spend the day questioning when you will leave.
I brag about the "rock" that you have been,
and then left speechless reading the text you so quickly send.

One day I taste of the love you sing-
settle in the comfort that security brings...
And before the sun hides and the weight of the day is through,
you're see-sawing leaves me trying again to understand you.

You stand to help me when I climb,
and rejoice regardless of what I find.
And before you take my hand to guide me as I crawl,
you step away and ignore my fall.

In the sun, in the rain-floating high or unprecedented pain,
I am expected to accept my place,
Held first in your heart or fighting to keep pace.

I allowed you to become too powerful,
Trusting that you could handle a heart on a plate that was already full
So I will give you what you say you need,
as I take my place back in "the middle" of ME.

its contagious

They made a statue of us
And put it on a mountain top
Now tourists come and stare at us
Blow bubbles with their gum
Take photographs for fun, for fun

They'll name a city after us
And later say it's all our fault
Then they'll give us a talking to
Because they've got years of experience
We're living in a den of thieves
Rummaging for answers in the pages
We're living in a den of thieves
And it's contagious

We wear our scarves just like a noose
But not 'cause we want eternal sleep
And though our parts are slightly used
New ones are slave labor you can keep

We're living in a den of thieves
Rummaging for answers in the pages
We're living in a den of thieves
And it's contagious

They made a statue of us
The tourists come and stare at us
The sculptor's mama sends regards
They made a statue of us
Our noses have begun to rust
We're living in a den of thieves
Rummaging for answers in the pages
Were living in a den of thieves

And it's contagious

Web MD says drink fluids...

Runny Nose, Congestion, aching muscles, headache, earache, dizziness. Acute Sinusitis or influenza? hmm...

On our way home…

We drove 2 hours and I worked the entire way.

We helped over 50 Vietnamese complete applications.

We answered every single question.

I ordered a kids meal from Checkers, so I wouldn’t feel so guilty for eating fast food.

Everyone talked in the van, and I took my post in my “office” on the back seat just like every night before.

Exhaustion is not an option for any of us; we just have to keep going.

I can’t remember the last time I had a “girl’s night” or slept in on Saturday.

I didn’t look up from emails but I knew we had exited on College Drive from the Orange glow of the Hooters sign.

Suddenly we hit something hard, and I looked up as gasps filled the van and two or three “what was that’s?”

I turned instantly; behind us in the right lane of the road was a cat half crawling-half walking and its tail flailing violently.

I yelled at our driver to stop or turn around. I threw off my heels and dug in my purse for my gun, but it wasn’t there. I couldn’t remember if it was in my car or on my nightstand.

I was furious that not only was I without it, but I couldn’t force myself to remember where it was.

The van came to a stop and I told everyone not to look.

I ran. In familiar form, my weeks without running body began a slow sprint as I ran hard enough to get there but slow enough to leap over mud and water that would cause my bare feet to slip on the concrete sidewalk.

My breathing pattern set and I knew I had run about 300 yards before I reached it.

Still awake, eyes glassing over and making desperate attempts to move; I picked up the warm and flailing animal in its last moments of life.

I jogged along the fence line of the school, still not knowing what I was going to do, but knowing what I had to.

One hunk lay broken off from the overflow of concrete around a fence post and I reached for it wincing at what I was about to do.

“The quickest way…the quickest way…” I forced myself to process.

I covered his face and stretched his head gently away from his legs, lengthening his neck as much as possible.

Only one blow and I made it count because I knew I could never take a second.

I began to pray as the breath left his body and I cried.

I stood and felt a wave of nausea as I turned and fell into full sprint back to the van.

I flung the door open to four heads facing downward and said, “Let’s go, I don’t want to talk about it.”

I shook the entire ride home.

I could barely see the road when I began driving my own car home and kept trying to blink the blur away.

I cried.

I cried into Belle, in my bed, in my bath water.

It has been two days and I am still telling myself that it is okay to feel horrible, broken and even “wrong” when doing “the right thing.”