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Showing posts from July, 2010

Either/Or

Recently I met an old friend for lunch. He was actually my senior high prom date.
He wasn’t just my prom date, but had been my friend for a good part of high school. And our group has mostly stayed in touch through the years. But not him. Even though we live in the same big metroplex, I hadn’t seen him in almost 15 years.
At prom, He even won some kind of senior superlative, Mr. BHS or something like that. In other words, he was well-liked, nice, funny and smart. And it helped that he drove a Camero. We didn’t break up or have a falling out. He kind of just disappeared. And not just from me, but from everyone.
And I had looked for him.
At class reunions. On myspace. And eventually, only about a year ago, he finally showed up on facebook.
When he did, I suggested we get together for dinner or something.
And he responded with a really awkward email.
Explaining that he was gay. Warning me. Trying to let me out of my dinner invitation if I wanted. And I already knew this. Possibly I had even kno…

floating

We wasted a lot of money and time at swim lessons this summer.
4 weeks worth.
And the boy could hardly swim.
And when I use the word swim, I mean flail around in the water enough to just keep his head above water and sometimes lucky enough to make it to the stairs.

The last set of swim lessons were a particular bust.
The teacher, a sweet blonde teenager was wooed by my son’s cuteness.
Meaning she held him about 90% of the time.
And it is pretty hard to learn to swim when you are permanently attached to someone’s shoulder.
The last teacher would work on strokes and kicking and when he would get just a few feet from the edge, he would give my son a good shove and make him get to the side by himself.
This teacher, when not toting him around on her shoulder, just seemed to work on floating.
I was frustrated. Tired of writing big checks and tired of trying to get him there in his trunks by 9 am while I sat up in the bleachers and watched him not swim for another 45 minutes.
I was especially irritated…

rock climbing and rock and roll

a slightly tardy playlist. and lets be honest most of my music is too sleepy to be classified as rock and roll....but i still turn it up loud.

pace yourself

Tonight I went running with a friend ten years my junior.
I asked her how far she was running and when she said only about 1.5 or 2 miles, I teased her that I could go at least twice that far. And to just let me know when she needed to stop.

I have been running pretty regularly for the last few weeks. It isn’t long but keep increasing my time and distance. I’ve stopped getting blisters. I don’t suck wind after five minutes anymore and I was feeling pretty good about myself. Thinking I might even be able to out run this girl who was so much younger and obviously in more shape than me.

As we started to jog I told her that I run pretty slow. Like my husband used to walk beside me while I ran, slow. And she slowed her gait a little bit for me but it was still faster than I usually go. I was a little embarrassed and was not going to ask her to slow down again. So I just ran at her pace. I stayed close. And was fading fast.
A little over a mile in I was ready to quit.
Again, pride, which isn’t u…

what we do.

Recently I had dessert with my sister.
We are a lot alike.
But are years apart and never really got all that close.
She had moved out and on before I even hit middle school.
But now that we are grown ups and especially moms, sometimes those years seem a lot closer together.

I said we are a lot alike. But in other ways we couldn’t be more different.
She buys nice clothes. I shop at Goodwill.
She eats healthy food. I mean too, but I really like Chik fil A.
She works a lot. I work. But I wouldn’t call it a lot.
She doesn’t have a facebook. I live online.
But we look almost exactly alike. Except maybe she is a few sizes smaller.
We are both smart, except maybe she has more letters after her name than me.
We are both obnoxious and loud, except maybe her mouth is even worse than mine.

I was home for a minute last week and we both snuck out for a glass of wine and some delicious dessert. Spanish almond basque cake from Veritas….I don’t really know what basque cake is. But it was amazing. I had to use som…

updates #2

Recently I met with my writer’s group. We hadn’t met in a handful of months and some of those girls I don’t usually see other places. So we spent a good portion of our time just catching up (and eating frozen yogurt). One girl in the group asked about my friend Beth. That I had blogged about. And then I started thinking about it and a handful of other friends have asked about her. Because I have a tendency to just throw stuff out in the blogosphere and never really follow up…..I thought I’d take a moment to update everyone on the current status of some of my posts in the last few months.

1. Beth. Yes, she is still pregnant. I think going on 26 weeks or something like that and moved back to Maryland. Which makes me miserably sad for me and ridiculously happy for her. Keep praying for that sweet baby girl. So far she is growing perfectly and I can't wait to hold her. Even if I freakin have to fly to Maryland to make that happen.
2. yoga. Went back tonight. Still bad at it, but didn’t …

now and then

Me and my friend Laura have been friends for half our life.
But have probably known each other for all of it.
Our grandfathers were friends. And we were born less than two weeks apart and they would brag and show each other pictures of little us.
We probably both had our diapers changed in the same church nursery because we both grew up, were baptized in and married in the same one.
And Laura and her family always seemed to be there.
And we would go every Sunday we were in town.
But we often weren’t.
Sometimes we would be off sailing in the gulf or spending the weekend in our condo on the lake. (Yes, obviously I had it rough).
And she was always smiling. And helping and being genuinely friendly.
I always liked it there. And her smile. But was often looking for someone a little more interesting to talk to or sit next to (read cute boy).

And we went to high school together. She had braces and a perm and was in the band. And I was in all the smart classes and spent all my money on stupid clothes t…

The Friday Playlist: Cooling Off (and me getting fancy with grooveshark)

I am still running. Even though it is ridiculously hot out and this week Shaun has been out of town so finding a time to run has been a little tricky. And was often in the heat of the day.
Normally when am in a running phase my playsits is kind of embarrassing.
Some Lady GaGa, Ke$ha, Kanye, Outkast, Black Eyed Peas, Beyonce....you get the idea. Anything fast with a strong beat to keep me going. And about half the time it was on a tread mill.
This time around I am opting for some longer slower runs on some little shaded roads that take me out of town. And listening to music that helps clear my head. It isn't your usual running tunes....but they have been working.



Yep. And. Both.

Lately those are a few of my favorite words to help me describe my faith.
I’ve been saying I don’t know a lot.
But that is always hard to spit out.
Like I should know and just don’t.
And a lot of time Christianity is presented in a fashion that makes you feel like you should know.
Sermons with three perfectly alliterated points.
Programs with steps to work and follow.
Books with checklists, bullet points, and flowcharts.

Yep.
Way back before I had this blog I went to a show at the Ridglea theatre in Fort Worth.
It is a pretty popular live music venue.
But this particular night, there wasn’t a band.
The house was packed and bartenders stood by to take your drink order.
On stage, instead of an elaborate band set or lights was just a simple white board and a few black markers.
Right on time, a man dressed very plainly (but with really cool glasses) walked onto the stage and started scribbling on the board. And talking.
For hours this man talked and it was a different kind of sermon than I had ever hear…

beaches and cheating.

first beaches.
Shaun is a mountain guy. And I love the mountains.
But I am more of a beach girl. I love the sand and the smell and everything that comes with it. Even raw oysters and sunburns. So far I have yet to set foot on one this summer........but last year about this time I was in Cozumel and it was amazing.

now the cheating.
I am sitting on a few posts, but a few things (one tan blonde boy and fiesty little toddler) have kept me busy this week....so I am re-posting a favorite from last summer.

Sunrise

I don't think I have every really seen one. On purpose at least. Maybe some glipses on the way to work, but I have never just gotten out of bed early for the pure intent on watching the sun rise. It is worth it I hear, and I felt like there would be no better place to witness one than my last morning in Cozumel. I had this romanticized picture of me on the beach with a cup of coffee, talking to God and snapping the kind of photos that belonged on the front of a postcard.
So I got up …

downward dog

Tonight I went to a yoga class at church. Not sure what my motivation was. Maybe it was that I just read Eat, Pray, Love or maybe it was the free childcare. Whatever the reason I showed up with my mat. Thinking, how hard can it be, even though I haven't been able to touch my toes since like 2nd grade. I mean I do have a Wii fit. And although, I usually skipped the yoga parts for the more fun games like hula hooping, I have unlocked a few additional poses.

Actually a few years ago I went with a friend to her pilates class a few times. And really liked it. I was by far the least stretchy girl in the room. I also had a secret fear of farting. I’m not sure why and am thankful that it never happened….but all the stretchy awkward posing with quiet relaxing music and I was just afraid one would slip out and that I would be mortified. I never could relax. And I have been to a yoga class before. Once. But it was more of the beginner version. And I must have been so bad it that I pushed that…

church. sort of.

I just got home from church.
Well, not really church exactly.
But it felt like it in the best kinds of ways.

No one was wearing there Sunday bests.
Actually most people were wearing everything they owned.
They smelled bad.
There was coffee and cigarettes.
No one was pretending.
And everyone was hungry.

As I walked into Unity Park,
A park that serves as a refuge to the homeless residents of downtown Fort Worth,
A homeless man named Tim walked up to me and asked me to read what he had written the night before.

The opening prayer.
It was scribbled on the back of his doctor’s appt to the free clinic.
A modern day psalm that was truly better than anything I have ever posted on here.
There were warm greetings and smiles and shy glances.

The sacrament was watermelon and ice water.
And everyone was welcome to the table.

The worship was being played next to me by a man in uncomfortable looking robes.
A modern day monk.
With a guitar.
Singing his praises, and I couldn’t help but join in.

The message was hope and gra…

The Friday playist: Mo

As soon as I turned 10 my parents started sending me to camps.
Church camp, sports camps, orchestra camp (yes, get your jokes out of the way), girlscout camp and your classic summer camp. You know the kind with girls on one side of the river boys on the other, the kind where you are assigned a tribe on your first night (go mohawks) and compete the rest of the summer. The winner to be announced at the very end of closing ceremonies and the place erupts in crazy cheers. (very Harry Potter now that I think of it).

I spend the majority of my summers until I was 21 going to or working at a camp in Hunt, TX. I skipped a few here and there, but during the summer months (and especially July since I was a session 2 girl), I often find myself remembering camp. Where I learned a few things. Like………..

How to share a bathroom with 30+ girls.
How to sleep on top of your already made bunk so you won’t have to make it in the morning.
The importance of mail.
That you will get caught when you sneak out.
How …

altered

Altar calls always make me cringe.
Which then makes me feel guilty.
Which makes me wonder if I should be mouthing along. Just in case.
It is a vicious cycle.

This week our Sunday School class finished up a video study we are doing.
The study was good. The story powerful and the speaker polished.
Even if her bright orange overcoat matched the exact shade of her hair and she was occasionally a little too kitschy for me. She made a lot of good points. Had an amazing story and had made me think and occasionally cry over the last few weeks. But her altar call made my eyes glaze over. I tried to tune her out and not get irritated.

She said the usual verses, leading in of course with John 3:16.
She even threw out the classic, “If you died tonight, do you know where you would spend eternity” card.

And very eloquently laid it all out and asked the audience and viewers to follow along.
And I couldn’t help but think, isn’t there more than that.
More than escaping hell.
More than some perfectly crafted praye…

nine years in the making (plus a special behind the video bonus)

First let me apologize profously for the sappiness and poor poor quality of this video. I could write an entire blog post (and I think I will) on the making of this video even though it may appear to have taken a 2 year old 10 minutes. It took me the better part of the day. Come to think of it, maybeI should have asked my kids for help. They can work my cell phone and the DVD player better than me (ages 5 and 1). More importantly is the why behind it, and then I will continue with the apologies. First, today is my anniversary. 9 years. Almost a decade of being married. and I looked through a lot of pictures today for the making of this horrible video. And sobbed almost every time I shot it. Even though it took at least two dozen shoots. We look like babies in the pictures. Because maybe at 23 we kind of were. But somehow in all of our immaturity and wrinkle free skin we seemed to make a pretty great decision. And a great pair. A few days ago one of my friends posted a blog about the t…

a short jog

So maybe July in Texas isn’t the best time to start running again.
But I have never been confined by logic,
So lately,
My Nikes which have been on hiatus for a while are getting a workout.
Just last week they still looked shiny and new even though I’ve had them for months.

I used to run.
I’m not really sure how that started either.
One Spring break I was broke, most of my friends were either out of town or weren’t lucky enough to get Spring Break and my husband was on the road for business.
So I decided that I was going to run a marathon that week.
Not like in an actual race.
Just that in the next 7 days I was going to run 26.2 miles.
And I did.
Which was kind of dumb idea for a beginner.

The first day I ran 3.75 miles. And my legs felt like jelly.
The next day I ran another 3.75 miles and prided myself on how not too miserably sore I was.
And on the third day, I wasn’t sure I could even get out of bed.
But I ran my 3.75 miles anyways.
I finished my 26.2 miles that week and kept running.
I felt happi…

back

Last week my in-laws had the kids.
It was a nice break.
I got to do things I don’t normally do.
I went to a movie without talking animals.
I went to breakfast, lunch and dinner with friends.
I slept until 9:30 am. (I don’t think that has happened in over 5 years).
Me and the husband just decided to go to Dallas for dinner. Just like that. Without having to try and find a sitter or pack a diaper back.
I watched a DVD all the way through without being interrupted.
I read like 5 books. Probably more.
I had my eyebrows threaded for the first time (and cried like a baby).
I ate sushi twice.
I napped.
I sat in one of those squishy chairs at Barnes and Noble and read a book that I had no intention of buying.
I made dinner for just me and my husband. And it was stuff I knew my kids wouldn’t eat.
I went downtown almost everyday and handed out cold drinks.
One of my best friends treated me to pedicure.
No one wiggled their way into my bed at 2 am.
Got an allergy test ( 80 needles in my back, not fun).
Had a fun …

The Friday Playlist posing as a book review (but I promise there is a playlist!)

My friend Tina runs blog tours (and takes amazing photos, makes mac and cheese from scratch and brews my favorite cup of coffee in the metroplex).
I like to read and I have a blog. I also really like free books.
So it is a match made in heaven. (A very caffienated heaven).

Except for the fact that book reviews, or the grown up version of a book reports, always kind of stress me out.
I think you are supposed to talk about what the book is about and the author, but really the back cover usually does a pretty good job of that.
You are supposed to give your own “critique” of the book. But I think this girl with a blog who doesn’t know when to properly use a comma shouldn’t really make reccomendations or complaints to someone who has actually published a book and actually uses spell check.

I also think most book reviews sound a little too comercially.
So instead, I usually just try to write something somehow related to the book and then plug it at the end, because I did get a free copy after all …

a cool drink of water

I hand him his ice cold drink and smile and look him in the eye.
Even though I don’t even know his name.
He tells me that I’m doing a good thing.

He has seen me down here most days this week.
Dragging my blue cooler along behind me full of water and juice and sodas.
Handing them out freely to the men and women melting into the sidewalks down on East Lancaster Street.
Some are napping. Some are talking in groups. Some are smoking and some are doing things I don’t even want to know about.
It usually only takes me minutes to empty my cooler.

I’m not really sure how to respond to my new friend.
Because I want to do something good I suppose.
I want to at least do something.
Even though 95% of the time I am content sitting on the couch.
Reading.
Blogging.
Checking facebook.

So I just kind of stand there staring into his face for a minute.
And he repeats it.
“You are doing a good thing here. You are a good person.”
And I tell him, “No, I’m really not.”
No one really is.
As a matter of fact I’m hung over.
I’m tir…