Mixed Emotions

Halloween means many things to many people - costumes and candy, haunted houses and scary movies, carving pumpkins and decorating cookies. My mom was always really good at costumes when we were little. I remember the whole family being Care Bears one year, complete with little plastic hearts on our bums; Erin and I were once Jem and Kimber of Jem and the Holograms; and one year (when Mom was feeling particularly hippy-ish, I guess) we were Spring and Winter... as in the seasons... but they were cool costumes.

Halloween will always mean something else for my family, though. In late October 1992, my grandfather went to the doctor. Dr. Sanders happened to know my Papa well; his family attended my grandparents' church and his mom and my grandma were friends. Because of this close association, it was easy for him to see that there was something wrong with Papa. His memory was off, he would say things that didn't really make sense. Within a week Papa (whom everybody had thought was perfectly healthy) was in surgery to remove a tumor from his brain. He never woke up. On October 30th, with the knowledge that he would spend the rest of his days unconscious and on life support, it was decided that we should let him go and he died early Halloween morning. I was seven at the time and I will never forget it.

I remember sitting in the waiting room of the ICU late at night with Erin and our cousin Amanda and seeing The Arsenio Hall Show for the first and only time. I remember half dressing in costumes with all of my cousins, but never leaving Grandma's house. I remember the woman who volunteered to watch all nine of us while the adults of the family grieved and dealt with funeral plans. We thought she was horribly mean, because she wouldn't let us run around and act like the crazy kids we were even during a time of mourning. I remember a few brief moments next to Papa's bed hours before he was gone forever.

But mostly I remember what he was to me, even at such a young age. Though he was already in his sixties when I was born, had grey hair and could hardly hear, he never seemed old. He would play on the floor with us, take us to the beach and jump in the waves, throw us in the pool. We're a family of hunters and he would take each grandchild out to shoot their first deer. It was my turn the year after he died and my cousin Jeff was no replacement. The whole family spent Christmas day at their country house in Wimberly and every year Papa would disappear for a bit and then Santa Clause would come walking from the woods, through the meadow to bring us presents, fruit and nuts. The last year they had that house (I would have been five), it occurred to me that Santa Clause and Papa looked an awful lot alike. I think I said something like "heeeeeeyyy..." and immediately found myself with a dozen hands clamped across my mouth.

He was the perfect man in my eyes. He had worked his way up from a bicycle messenger at Nixon Blue Print to owning that very same company. They sold office supplies and logged oil wells and everybody knew his was the best in the business, because he could give you the information for any well off the top of his head. He was devoted to God and to his church. He loved my grandma more than anything in the world. To her dying day, I don't think she ever uttered a single complaint about him. And he would do anything for his children or his grandchildren.

I wish so badly that he had been able to see us all grow up and to meet his great-grandchildren. I miss him every day. Sixteen years later, Halloween is mostly a happy day for me, but it also means a little bit of heartache.

My Love Affair With Wikipedia

I have automatic spell check set up in Outlook for my work emails. This morning a coworker was giving me a hard time. He (jokingly) said I was being violent in my request for some forms that were due yesterday and that only about 5% of the people who needed to fill these forms out had bothered to turn in. So when I typed "hahaha" in my response to him, my spellcheck tried to correct me by offering to change that to "Hahira." My curiousity got the best of me and I googled it.

Hahira is a town in the northern part of Lowndes County, which is in the southern part of Georgia. It was once known as the "Queen Bee Capital of the World," because Queen Bees were produced (I'm guessing that means bred) and shipped from a factory there. It was home to JD, Tim and Stephen Drew who are all brothers and professional baseball players. As of the 2000 census, Hahira had 1,626 residents.

One of the best loved of those citizens was Mamie Sorrell. It seems Mamie had quite the life and presence in Hahira. She worked as a nurse and purchasing agent at the hospital for 27 years, she worked for the city for 14 years, she was a clerk at the Baptist church and she owned and ran a floral shop. On top of that, she was on the chamber of commerce, a member of the historical society, president of the Pink Ladies Auxiliary and a founder of the Hahira Honey Bee Festival.

In March of this year, the Hahira City Council passed an ordinance that bans sagging. Citizens are not allowed to wear pants that sit below the waist and reveal skin or undergarments. I actually remember hearing about it when the law was passed, but didn't know where it had happened.

I know nobody else cared to know what Hahira meant, but this kind of stuff is why I usually win at trivia games.

By the way, Blogger tried to correct the spelling of Hahira to Hadria...I won't even go there.

Better than sex...TexMex

Sorry Mom, but I didn't make it up; that is actually how the restaurant advertises itself.

Around 11:30 I got an email inviting me to a birthday lunch for my boss at Vivo. It's where we always go for special occasions at work and I just couldn't pass up such a good (free) lunch. I'd say this is a very "Austin" restaurant, although the owner is from San Antonio, as evidenced by their signature puffy tacos.


In case you don't know, puffy tacos are a San Antonio tradition - Bobby Flay even did a thrown down over them once. They are basically tacos served on corn tortillas that have been somehow inflated and then fried. When I was little we went to San Antonio Missions games all the time. Throughout the game they had crowd participation events, like the bat races. I always wished I'd be chosen for one of the kid games, specifically the puffy taco race.

You see, one lucky kid got to chase Henry Puffy Taco around the bases and try to tackle him and if you won (which the kid always did, of course) you got a gift certificate for Henry's Puffy Tacos. Oh how I coveted that opportunity. Finally one game I was picked to participate in an event! I was so excited until I got down to the field and found out that I would not be chasing Henry around. Instead two other kids and I were going to be playing tug of war against Hercules. We won, but all I got was a gift certificate to Hercules Leaves and Petals. Who really thought a kid would enjoy money to spend at a florist? I think I ended up getting flowers for my grandma.

But I digress. The point is that I got to go to Vivo for lunch today. It's a really cool place. They have all of these brightly colored paintings all over the walls and huge vases full of the most beautiful roses. And they are super vegetarian friendly. I got a tofu puffy taco and delicious cheese enchilada and we had flan, since it was a celebration. The best part is when they bring the check, every woman at the table gets a rose to take home.

In conclusion, all it really takes to make me happy is TexMex and a flower.

Plagiarism

I stole this game from The Pioneer Woman, who stole it from the movie Heartburn, which my best friend Ari and I have pledged to watch together when she moves home in about a month. The game is to describe yourself with a list of five words. Seems easy enough.

Let's see, I spend most of my time at work; I am somebody's (well, really about nine people's) assistant, but I don't really think of my job as who I am. I am somebody's daughter, absolutely the product of my parents, but that isn't how I define myself. I am somebody's girlfriend, but I've long felt that that word doesn't do justice to our relationship at this point. I am neurotic (I'd like to think in the most charming sense of the word), but people could take that wrong. So, who am I?

When I narrow it down I think I am:

Christian
Loved
Devoted
Silly
Moody

Take it for what you will.

Because it's almost Halloween...

... and I can't think of anything to write about and, despite the fact that I really wanted to be Peggy Sawyer when I was 6, I also was a kid of the 80s, I will post a picture of me as Rainbow Brite three years ago.

Pardon the quality of the picture. It was taken by a coworker and then I had the brilliant idea to "photoshop" (by which I mean use Paint to cut and paste) myself into a Rainbow Brite scene. It's the only picture I have of the costume and I don't even have the original now. Also, you may notice that this is not one of those skimpy RB costumes that the Halloween stores started carrying, like, the year after I had this idea (yeah, I'm a trend setter). This costume is all cut up t-shirts, multi-colored duct tape and love.

Also, here's a hint: don't cover your favorite boots in duct tape unless you never want to wear them normally again.

An Embarrassment To My Generation

I know that this song is meant as satire, but it's honestly how I feel many days.

(skip to the 2:25 mark to bypass the stupid questions from the women of The View)



Now I have to go lock the door and turn out the lights, so Gloria Steinem can't get me.

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

The first movie I can remember really loving as a kid and wanting to watch over and over was 42nd Street. When most little girls my age wanted to be Rainbow Brite, I wanted to be Peggy Sawyer. I thought she was just the most beautiful woman there ever was and the musical numbers in the movie dazzled me. That was the beginning of my life-long love of musicals and musical theater.

Grease was always a favorite, though watching it now I am shocked by some of the adult content that slipped past me as a kid. I remember the first time my mom and I watched A Chorus Line and then she took me to see the stage production in high school. From The Sound of Music and My Fair Lady, to Moulin Rouge and Chicago, with Funny Face and Singing in the Rain thrown in the middle, I am always up for watching a movie that incorporates song and dance into the story. In fact, I've long maintained that the world would be a happier place if people really did randomly break into choreographed musical numbers.

Last night I decided to pop in my old video - yup I still own and use a VCR - of what is probably my best loved musical of all time (and one of favorite movies ever)- Funny Girl. If you have not seen this movie, you need to! Barbara Streisand is flawless, the songs are timeless and the clothes are gorgeous. I've been singing Don't Rain on My Parade in my head all day. Here's a great scene for those of you who are unfamiliar. Quite the silly seduction, but the inner monologue is great and I would kill for that dress.

These Times

The dreaded 'L word' came through my office today. That one that is probably at least in the backs of the minds of most Americans right now...Layoff. The thing is, I wasn't worried about it at all. I know people who know people who have been laid off in the past few weeks or months and I feel bad for them, but it was one of those yeah, but it can't happen to me type of things.

Well, now it feels like it can happen to me. Seven employees from our corporate office in California and regional office in Colorado lost their jobs last week and two more yesterday. My Big Boss (highest ranking person that I work with directly) sat down with me and a couple of other people in my region to assure us, so that we can pass that assurance on to our coworkers. Unfortunately, I came out of it way more concerned than I had been, especially since I didn't even know about the layoffs before she told me.

My job is probably safe. Let me just put that out there. Basically, one of three things could happen. The most likely is that the company will pull through just fine and I'll keep my job and hopefully move up, in time. There is also a good chance that the company will pull through, but there will be more layoffs before things start looking up. If that is the case, I have the benefit of working in the most successful region in the whole company, having a reputation for being very good at my job and not having a job that would easily be considered fluff. However, if cutbacks have to be made in my region, my position my be on the short list of those to eliminate. Even if that happened, though, I've been assured that they'd try to find me another position within the company, but it might mean relocating. The least likely, but possible situation is that the company will fold all together or sell off this region, either of which would mean somebody else taking over. If that is the case, they will likely keep a lot of the on-site staff, but I doubt there would be a position for me.

There are a lot of "ifs" and I'm really not thinking I'll be losing my job any time soon. But the possibility is much more in my consciousness than it was a day ago. I'm one of the lucky ones who has enough of a support network that even if I were to be out of work for a while, I would not likely go under. Many, many people (my own coworkers) have not been so lucky during this hard time and I am really feeling for them today.

In The Beginning

Three years ago today I met a very nice, slightly older (3 1/2 years) man with whom I had an instant connection and easy conversation. I was not looking for love and neither was he. I felt I was too young to meet The One and I was working two full time jobs at 82 hours a week, plus taking classes part-time. I really did not have time for a boyfriend. He had broken off an engagement only a few months before and was casually dating somebody else. But we could not deny that we had a lot in common and enjoyed each other's company. Over the next few weeks we exchanged many emails, talked on the phone regularly and got together for coffee, as friends. Boy did I have no idea what I was in for...

Mysterious ways, right?

After my cruddy day at work yesterday, I was not really looking forward to the meeting I had committed to attending at church last night. We have a program, in partnership with another local congregation, called LoveWorks that aims to support and nourish children of incarcerated parents. The main function of the program is that people can volunteer to mentor a child with one or both parents in prison through Big Brothers Big Sisters (BBBS). When I found out about it, I knew that this was the perfect opportunity for me to serve my church and my community.

I got my application in to BBBS just this week and the woman from church who organizes it asked me if I'd like to come to a mentors meeting last night to learn more about what they do. It was a wonderful meeting. Both heartbreaking and inspiring at the same time. Everybody went around and gave an update of how their 'Little' is doing. Most of the mentors have been doing it since the program started, so they have had the same Little for the past five or six years- seeing and talking to these now high school teenagers at least three times a month since they were just in elementary school. Some of the kids are blossoming and thriving. Then there were others who are struggling - family is having financial problems, getting involved in gang activity, clinical depression - so we discussed how their Big could help them through whatever they are dealing with, what resources there are, etc.

I had no idea how involved you really get in these kid's lives by taking on the responsibility. You get to know their friends and family. Some people go to the school when there is a removal hearing to suspend the child, call the guidance counselor to talk about what the kid needs to do to graduate on time, attend choir concerts alongside the parents or grandparents to show love and support. It is a much heavier responsibility than I was imagining and there are many more challenges.

Frankly, I was a little scared. Would I know what to do if my Little told me she was going to join a gang? What if he was suicidal? Can I be of comfort and help if her mother is getting beat up by her boyfriend? What would I say to him if his father were executed? These are all things that the people in that room have had to face with the child they are mentoring. Luckily, there is a lot of support from the LoveWorks community. There are training seminars; all of the mentors support and help each other; there is an advisory board that volunteers can go to with questions about school issues, emotional issues, etc.

I know that it will be a challenging learning experience, but I think the reward will be huge! I cannot wait to actually get my match and begin to get to know a special little girl or boy.

********

As I was driving home from meeting last night, I was thinking to myself how nice it would be to get home and curl up in my warm bed and read for a bit before going to sleep. Then I thought of something I wanted to remember to look up online first when I got home. Of course, I quickly remembered I no longer have a computer at home and it suddenly hit me:

I have been thinking recently about my computer habits. I spend eight hours a day on the computer at work and then come home and can still entertain myself for a long time with the vastness of the Internet. I definitely take advantage of it for mindless entertainment and time passing. There are lots of other things I like to do in my free time - read books, talk to actual people in real life, take my dog to the park or on walks, leave my apartment - but I'm lazy by nature so I easily succumb to the temptation of spending way too much time on the computer instead.

This is not quality time and when I die, I am not going to regret that I didn't see as many Lolcats as I could have. On the other hand, I often feel guilt or regret when I find myself surfing rather than doing something more meaningful. I was actually thinking last week that it would be very good for me to take a week-long fast from the computer at home. I have to use it at work and even have time during the work day to keep up with plenty of my personal stuff, so I really felt I should see what good it might do me to ban it at home for a bit. I was going to do it this week.

Of course by the time Sunday or Monday had rolled around, I had given myself some really good excuse (which I cannot even remember now) for why this was not a good week to do that. I think somebody else had a different idea in mind and took a really drastic approach to making me live up to my vow. God sure has a wicked sense of humor.

Warning: Really Long Whine Fest Ahead

What a day this has been! I have been in a bit of a funk lately and finally I felt like I was coming out of it. Yesterday was a really good day. I accomplished some of the things I'd been putting off; I got in a decent workout; I had a really good time with my dad. By 8:00 I had settled down on the couch to watch the debate. After that, things started going back down hill fast.

It has nothing to do with the debate itself, I'm trying really hard not to go into politics on here. The problem began with the fact that I had to watch it on my laptop. I don't have cable and only get TV reception for the local Fox station, which was showing baseball. Luckily, a couple of networks were streaming it live, so I tuned into CBS and was all set. My laptop has been acting a bit wonky lately. I've been having lots of pop-ups, even with the blockers on, but scans for viruses were clear and having it checked out by a professional is just another one of those things I've been putting off. I was watching on full screen and as the debate was winding down found that I was not able to go back to normal or close the screen. After trying all of the tricks I know, to no avail, I finally just had to force it to turn off. When I turned it back on, I got a Fatal System Error message. Yup. My [less than two year old] laptop has totally crashed. I don't know if I actually had a bug or what, but I only pray that my warranty will cover it. Thanks to ever responsible Johnathan for making me buy the extended plan.

Fast-forward to this morning. I get up, planning on a trip to the apartment fitness center before work. Thankfully I had cause to run the sink before I left, because I had no water pressure - just a tiny trickle. Apparently a main has burst, so it had to be shut off. What a stinky mess I would have been! Instead I was able to crawl back into bed for a little while longer and come to work only moderately musty.

Work has been stressful "lately." By "lately," I mean the last 9 months or so. My company is having issues. Since we were getting so many calls to various offices from different people about the problems, it was decided that things would be "easier" if everybody directed those complaint calls to me. By "easier," I mean for everybody but me. So, I get anywhere from two to two dozen calls a day from people who hate my company and hate me by association, because they feel like they are getting screwed over by all of us. Honestly, I don't blame them, which I think makes it even more horrible having to deal with them all the time and make excuses and try to convince them hold off further action. The people in charge keep telling us "things should all be sorted out in [insert time frame]" or "it'll be taken care of by [random date]" or "we'll know something definite on [pick a day]." So I keep getting hope, only to have that time come and nothing has been rectified. Today was one of those days. We were supposed to have definite dates for all of this to be fixed by the end of this week. As of this morning, the new "we'll know something" date is October 28th.

Note: I really love the people that I work with, including my bosses. I have a lot of faith that this company will pull through the mess it is in and become something great and I look forward to being a part of it when that day comes. If I didn't really believe in it, I wouldn't still be here.

When I'm at work I keep my personal email account up, as well as my work email and various other work and non-work sites. This morning I had a message in my personal email from a Facebook friend with a video. "Cool" I thought. *click* I'm redirected to what appears to be a video hosting site and told that my Flash Player is not up-to-date. Not surprising, since most of the stuff on this computer is not the latest version, so I click to get the update. It never did load, and I started to question the whole thing, so I gave up. Then somebody else tells me that they had gotten some weird Facebook message from me about a video, but it was poorly spelled, so they knew it couldn't be me (ha!). Apparently lots of people have been hacked/spammed. And now my work computer is acting funny- super.

I shut down all Internet while I try to make sure that everything is clear of viruses and such. Then I get a call from another office that an email has gone out to the whole company saying that a bunch of reports that were due yesterday (many of them from my area and my responsibility) were not received. It always sucks to get called out in front of others, much less the whole company, but the real kicker is that I did turn in the reports yesterday. I was able to forward the original email that had them, so I could prove to the person requesting them that I'd done it, but it doesn't take back that everybody thinks I didn't. It's been a busier than usual day anyway, and I just have all this extra stuff on top of it. Oh, and, just now this minute my printer/scanner/copier started making a clicking noise that cannot possibly be good.

If I might make a point in all of this complaining it is this: I definitely believe that God tests us. There are always going to be hard times and it frequently seems like all of the bad happens at once. But, good times will undoubtedly follow. I think both of them are tests. The point is not how much things are or are not going your way, but what you do with the hand you are dealt. I'd like to say I'm not responsible for all of the cruddy things that have happened in the past 24-hours, but I also have to admit that I'm not responsible when things are going well either. That's just how life is. I have to try to deal with both the good and the bad as humbly and faithfully as I can. No one day (or week or year) is going to make or break me. Only the persistence of my faith can do that.

Daddy's Girl

My dad is great. He is pretty much everything I think of when I think of what a dad should be. We haven't always been as close as I would like, because we haven't lived in the same city since I was seven, but he's definitely always made a great effort. My whole childhood, he would write letters to us every week, as well as calling a few times throughout the week. Even today getting something in the mail besides bills and junk is really nice, but as a kid, having mail just for me every week was thrilling!

Now that I'm all grown up, I see him even less often than before. He still calls me a couple of times a week and we meet for dinner between Austin and Boerne at least once every couple of months. It would be nice to think that I didn't need my daddy anymore, but I do. He still takes care of me in ways that only he can.

********

I have this truck. I got it when I was 16 and drove it until I bought my new car last December. I was never terribly fond of this truck - it was not my choice - and did not take very good care of it. When it came time to buy my new car, I knew that it would not be worth enough to really help me, so I didn't bother trying to trade it in. I had money for a down payment, so I decided I'd just sell the truck on my own.

Well, the truck has just been sitting, ignored, for 10 months. It has a flat tire (whether from not being driven or from a hole, I don't know) and it won't start because the battery is run down from lack of use. I want to sell it, I need to sell it, but there are a few things I have to do to be able to sell it and the whole process is daunting and seems like a pain in the butt. It would be nice to have whatever small amount I could make from the sell, but I don't need the money, so I just keep putting it off.

********

My dad is going to be in town today on business. We decided we'd have our semi-monthly dinner tonight, since he'd be here anyway. This morning he called to say that he'll probably be done with business about an hour before I get off work, so he's going to fix my flat and charge up my battery for me. This has given me new resolve to get the truck sold. I'm sending off the paperwork I need to take care of today. Hopefully that means I can have it sold within the next month-and-a-half or so and have the money for Christmas shopping. My dad is great!

RIP, Old Friend

I like things a certain way. Have I mentioned that? Get used to it. I'm not big on change unless I initiate it. I love to mix things up when I feel like it, but if somebody else puts it on me, I resist.

I got a new check card in the mail last week. My current one expires next month. I love my current card. It is the first card I got on my first bank account of my very own. I've had it for years and years. It is all worn in (almost to the point of being un-swipable). Most importantly, I have the number down pat. I could rattle that off better than my ABC's. My fingers typed it automatically with each online purchase.

When I got the envelope from the bank and could feel a hard spot, I knew it was a new card. Blegh. It's all slick and shiny. It has no character. It doesn't fit into my vintage sense of style. And it has a stupid new number to memorize. Why can't the number stay the same? As soon as I got it, I tucked it in my wallet behind the old and haven't thought much of it since. Well, the bank just called and said I need to activate it to avoid service interruption. So I say "Goodbye old card. You served me well. Thank you for all of the hours of mindless shopping you facilitated."

What's In A Name?

Johnathan and I aren't really big on nicknames. Occasionally I'll refer to him as Johnny, John-John, John Boy or J-Man when I am being goofy, but he has always just gone by the full version of his name and I almost always just call him Johnathan. Likewise, he calls me by my name most of the time. In fact, he uses my name more than any person I have ever met. In the beginning it actually bothered me that he so often put my name at the end of a sentence. I thought he was being condescending. Like if he was trying to make a point and I was misunderstanding he'd say "that isn't what I'm saying, Elyse," and for whatever reason, my name in that sentence made me feel like a child being chastised. But in time I came to realize that he didn't just use my name when frustrated. He also says things like "I love you, Elyse" or "thank you, Elyse." And he uses everybody's name when he talks to them; he is not being patronizing, it's just one of his traits. But my point is that aside from calling each other "Baby" or by our given names, we have never been too big on nicknames and terms of endearment.

However, ever since he bought the a video of It's Flash Beagle, Charlie Brown on an eBay auction, because it was one of his favorite things to watch as a child, I have taken to calling Johnathan "My Sweet Babboo." It's Sally's nickname for her true love, Linus and apparently (thank you Wikipedia) it was what creator Charles Schulz's wife called him. When I heard that, it was just too disgustingly precious not to inflict on him. Linus is not much of a fan of this moniker or the girl who uses it, but [I like to think that] Johnathan doesn't mind it. At least once in the Peanuts series, Sally also said she was Linus's "Sweet Babbooette." I guess that makes them a couple of Babboos.

When I decided to create this blog I wanted the URL to be something that stood for both of us and was personal and it couldn't be taken already by one of the other millions of bloggers out there. I can change the header/title of the page as often as the mood strikes me, but the address would be permanent. So (not that anybody asked) that is why this website is TwoBabboos. And, come to think of it, maybe the fact that all of the titles of Peanuts cartoons he watched as a child ended with Charlie Brown's name had some influence on Johnathan's habit of using peoples' names the way he does.

I Dream of Jeannie

The good news is Johnathan has officially finished his coursework toward his Master's in Biblical Studies. Of course, that means that he is now working on his thesis - no small task. The subject of this paper (that word doesn't seem to have enough gravitas, considering the whole degree relies on it) is pretribulational, dispensational premillennialism eschatology....yeah, already pretty much over my head. Basically, as I understand it (though I may be corrected on this), that means he'll be discussing/defending the view that Israel and the Church are distinct entities and that Jesus will return before a seven year tribulation, followed by an additional return of Christ with his saints to reign on earth.

I actually really enjoy the fact that Johnathan is pursuing post-graduate degrees in Biblical studies, because I become so much better educated about my own beliefs through discussing his studies with him. My only question is, once his thesis is approved and he has actually graduated, do I have to call him "Master?"

Rock On

When I made the onesies for baby Shelby, I had a little guilt about the fact that I'd never actually done any for my very own precious niece. I decided that her birthday was the perfect excuse to make her something. We'd already ordered her this book (I highly recommend this company if you are looking for a personalized gift, they were great!) and gotten her these instruments from both Johnathan and me, but the embroidery project was going to be just from me, so I knew exactly what I wanted to put on one of them:

I made her two others, but was not able to get pictures, because my camera died half-way through her birthday party and, like a total doof, I had left my battery charger 1,700 miles away. I just managed to get this one by turning the power off between shots. Erin made the tutu back in August, so I chose the colors specifically to match it.


One of the others had a cute picture on it from a Sublime Stitching pattern and the other was a Texas flag to remind her of her roots. They all turned out cute enough, but (for some reason, I cannot quite figure out) this one is definitely my favorite.

On Why I Should Never Leave Home For More Than One Day

I love spontaneity and I tend to be a pretty impulsive person. I'm up for anything, so if you want somebody to talk you out of a 'crazy' idea, I am not your gal. However, I need/thrive on/crave routine. I am at my optimal when things are orderly and scheduled. My best days are the ones when I wake up at 4 AM, start with a workout, stay busy at work, run errands or do chores at home and have only a little down time for reading before bed. I eat the same thing for breakfast every morning (a hot cereal of brown rice with chopped almonds, dried cranberries and blueberries, 1 tbsp of protein powder and skim milk) and lunch and dinner usually consists of one of about 5 variations of vegetables and some source of protein. Some people might get bored by such a lack of variety from day to day. I love it! It makes me a much happier, saner, more pleasant and more productive person.

But, my routine does not exactly come naturally to me. I have worked hard to figure out just how things need to be and, even though I know it's best for me to stick to the plan, sometimes I have to force myself to do just that. The worst is whenever I go on a trip. I love to travel - can't get enough of it. I do sometimes need to get away from all that I am used to and I find great joy in discovering new places, people and things or getting back to the old ones. But it is impossible for me to stick to the patterns that keep me sane when I am away from home. Every "usual" part of my daily life is disturbed...it's great!

The problem comes when I get home. First of all, it seems that lately, any time I leave home for more than 24 hours, I get sick. I came back from Cozumel with a sore throat that lasted three days. I got a stopped up/runny/sneezey nose just about the minute my plane touched down in New York on Friday and now, 36 hours after returning to Austin it has not gotten any better. Furthermore, it takes me several days to get back to normal. My sleep schedule is off; I haven't exercised in a week; I try to put off going to the grocery store until my "regular" day, so now my food supply is lacking; and, shamefully, my suitcase is still lying on my bedroom floor with all of the clothes inside (I took out toiletries, shoes and makeup only because I've needed them). Hopefully I will be back to normal by this evening, but it really is just pathetic what leaving home does to me. I'm beginning to think it isn't worth the trouble!

A Very Special Day

I vividly remember the moment, 614 days ago, that Erin told me she was expecting a little surprise. I was having dinner with Dad when she called and he did not know yet, so I not only had to keep the secret for a bit, but force myself not to react when she told me. I was THRILLED!

By September of last year, I was ready for that baby to be born. Since Erin was not able to travel for my grandma's funeral, I went up to New York afterwards as a surprise. I was (not so secretly) hoping she would pop while I was there, but despite Erin's best efforts to coax (or maybe smoke) Alivia out of there - including lots of walking, castor oil, and a very unpleasant ginger tea concoction suggested by some lady at Target - it was not to be.

Two weeks later, I got the call that Erin was in labor and many many hours and updates later, as I slept with my cell phone nestled next to my head, I learned that Alivia Jade was finally here. The first half hour or so was nerve-wracking. Mom told me that she was out, but it had been an extremely difficult delivery and they were not sure if she was okay. While her first minutes, hours and days, were less than ideal, she turned out to be just fine - perfect, if you ask me!

Over the past year, I have watched this precious child grow and develop her own personality and change all of our lives. Most notable, is the change in Erin. She is no longer just my big sister, she is a mother. She has more strength and love than I ever would have known. Neither her pregnancy, nor delivery could be described as easy. Alivia's short life has been fraught with "complications." But my big sister takes it all in stride. She schleps to doctor's appointments and therapies most days of the week and doesn't seem to get bogged down by it. Her amazing love for her daughter shines through it all and I know she would do absolutely anything for her. I couldn't be more proud.

And as for this little girl, not quite a baby any more, she is the shining star of the family. She is smart and funny, moody and loving, fearless and gentle. She loves books and Elmo and dances whenever there is music (and sometimes when there isn't). She climbs on everything and chases the dog around the house. She eats green beans by the handful and likes to suck on lemons. Her laugh is completely infectious. She is loved beyond words.

Happy birthday, my darling Alivia (Ali, AJ, Liv, Livvy, Libya, etc. etc.)! Thank you for coming into our lives.

Do You Want Fen-Phen With That?

Right now I am in New York for Alivia's first birthday (well, that is really just my excuse to take a couple of days off work and visit the family and one of my favorite cities). Aside from the party on Sunday, the only definite plans were for a sisters' trip to see Legally Blonde the Musical. Erin had already seen it once, but it's closing soon and she wanted another go and I was eager to see this adaptation.

The show was very good. All of the charm of the original movie with a lot of the same funny lines, but plenty of new twists and changes thrown in. Bailey Hanks stars as Elle and I have to say that I was very impressed with her. She is a total newcomer, having been discovered through an MTV reality show/competition to cast the role. She reminds me of a young Kristin Chenoweth in her mannerisms and voice.

After the show, we stopped for a slice of pizza and I had a horrible confrontation with a new law in New York City. You see, the powers that be recently decided that people are not trustworthy enough to be responsible for minding their own caloric intake. It is now required that restaurants don't just provide the calorie count for any dish if it is requested by a patron, they have to display it on the menu! Honestly, I'm not usually somebody who feels passionately about the government staying as small and unobtrusive as possible, but this is over the line, in my opinion.

Obviously I know that a piece of pizza is not a healthy choice, I do not care to see that it is going to cost me 700 calories a slice. Seriously! But, by far the biggest shock was the Fettuccine Alfredo with Grilled Chicken. Now, I did not see the size of a portion and I'm assuming it was quite large, but according to their own calculations, one serving of this dish contains a whopping 3070 calories. That is more than 150% of the daily suggested caloric intake for an adult. I'm am appalled and disgusted and dismayed. How is anybody supposed to ever enjoy a meal with this information staring them down?

Ladies Night

I'm a bit of a homebody. I love going out and doing lots of different things, but most of the time I am perfectly happy to spend evenings at home making dinner, working on some kind of project or just curling up on the couch with a book or the remote. However, there are those times when I am just dying to get together with my girls and break up my routine a bit.

On Friday, I was beginning to feel that urge, so I sent out a group email and we made plans to have dinner last night. I've heard Katie sing the praises of North by Northwest regularly for a good year-and-a-half or so now and figured it was high time to finally try this place out. In a word: yum! I knew it was a good choice when I saw that five out of nine choices of sides are potato dishes.

They are a restaurant and brewery, so it was only right that I try one of their original beers. I got the Bavarian Hefeweizen and found it quite refreshing (even if they cut the lemon slice in a way that is hard to squeeze out any juice). We ordered a plate of garlic fries for the table and I was simply amazed that I had never had such an obvious and delicious combination before. I wouldn't say my pasta entree was revolutionary by any means, but it was very satisfying. We decided to split 3 desserts among the 4 of us - creme brulee, chocolate torte and apple crisp a la mode. The apple crisp alone was plenty dessert for all of us and, needless to say, I left absolutely stuffed. Of course the best part of the evening was getting to spend time with 4 friends (an extra showed up as we were eating our sweets) who I don't see nearly enough.

Good food, good company, what more could I ask for?

Things Girly

There are some movies that come on T.V. over and over. Between TBS, TNT and the multitude of stations directed at women, you can pretty much bet they are playing non-stop. A few of these movies suck me in every time I see them on. It doesn't matter that I've seen Steve Martin try to "steal" hotdog buns from the grocery store 592 times, as soon as I hear Franck Eggelhoffer's accent, you can bet I'm going to stop flipping channels and watch the rest of the movie...and I'm probably going to cry at the end.

Almost a year ago, I took up embroidery. Ari and I decided that to save money last Christmas we were going to set a rule that we had to make each other's gifts, so I bought a kit and embroidered an apron for her. I love embroidery because it is quite easy, I usually like the way it looks when I'm done, it doesn't take too long to complete a project (good for my attention span or lack-thereof), and people seem to be impressed by it; they assume it takes a lot more work than it does.

My sweet friend, Desma, is less than a month from delivering her first baby (I promise these three non sequiturs are about to make sense). She is having a little girl and they have decided to name her Shelby. Of course, the first thing that comes into my head when I hear that name is another of those movies that sucks me in every. single. time. - Steel Magnolias.

At the beginning of the movie, the character Shelby is getting married and she and her mother are constantly bickering about wedding details, not the least of which are her wedding colors. Shelby says they are Blush and Bashful, while her mom declares they are pink and pink. I wanted to do something special for Desma and sweet Shelby for her shower last month, so I decided to embroider some onesies.

I'm sure that, if she hasn't already, Desma is going to get tired of the Steel Magnolias references at some point, but I simply could not help myself. Obviously she can't wear both outfits at once, so the only people who know the significance are the parents and the people who were at the shower. The 3rd was done with a Kurt Halsey design from Sublime Stitching. I love all of the templates on the site and have used several for projects. I just used another on a gift for Alivia and will likely post pics of that in the next week or so.