The Husband. We just had a super fantastic mini-vacation. And by mini, I mean it was brief and we didn’t go far, but we had the best time. I love that when we go out alone, it feels like we’re teenagers on a date. I love that it doesn’t matter where we go, we just enjoy our time together and we appreciate the fact that we have the time to begin with. I love that we both know when we’re each using things we’ve learned or are learning through various marriage building books or seminars, but instead of thinking, “Ugh, he/she is just doing that because he/she read it in the book,” we are grateful that the other one is trying. I’m thankful that looking at him still makes my heart skip a beat, too. And I’m ever so thankful that we stayed in a hotel for our mini-vacation, even if the bed did squeak a bit. (Oh come on, you didn’t think I was going to keep it all sappy, did you?)
My Girls. As much as I realize there’s a me beyond being their mommy, ohmygosh I am so thankful for those two treasures. I love how they play together, even when my living room floor is filled with pillows and I’m constantly told that I’m stepping in shark-infested waters. And I love hearing them laugh when I collapse on the floor screaming in agony after one of the aforementioned sharks has bitten me on the leg. I love how much I’m learning from them, about life and about myself.
My Family. Yes, we have had our ups and downs, and we continue to — especially when I’m cranky — but I love how we seem to come out from the downs stronger, and how we have the most fun during the ups. I am so very thankful that my parents live nearby — and The Husband’s parents too. I think I have to be one of the, if not the, luckiest woman in the world when it comes to parents-in-law. And I am a huge fan of my sister-in-law and her husband. And my sister’s husband? Well, I would have picked him out for her if she hadn’t.
My Friends. I am probably one of the, if not the, moodiest people I have ever met. I don’t even know what to expect when it comes to my moods, so there’s no way any of my friends can know. (I promise I’m working on that.) I get my feelings hurt super easily, even when I know there’s no reason to. It’s ridiculous. In spite of these serious character flaws though, I have the most amazing friends. I don’t know how they put up with me, but somehow they do, and they are generous, kind, loving, and patient. And fun, so. much. fun. I don’t know if I could handle boring friends — I’m glad I don’t have any!
My God. Last, but most certainly NOT least. I am so thankful that God decided it was a good idea to make the world, give the world Jesus, and for some odd reason, make me. I don’t know how I would have made it through many of the things I’ve managed to get myself into without Him. I don’t know where I would be now. I don’t even want to think about it. And I am so thankful that He is patient with me as I work out what I’m supposed to be doing for Him with my life. Living for Him, yes, but what if there’s more? I’m thankful that He’s always in the same place… And that makes me wonder why it takes me so long to find Him sometimes. Duh.
And, really, there isn’t anything I shouldn’t be giving thanks for. See?
This Note to Self is coming to you a whole day early on account of the fact that I will not be able to post tomorrow, because I will be on a super duper awesome date with The Husband. Thanks to Noelle for the many blog post topic suggestions, this one’s for her!
- You were asked how to become a blogger. The only way that you can answer that is by telling how you yourself started. Which was by setting up a WordPress account and just writing. Writing about your own thoughts, your own life, your own shallow ponderings. And it all started by blogging about American Idol on MySpace.
- You think My Life is Average used to be a lot more average. People dressing up as dinosaurs to go to college isn’t so average. But it’s still funny, and you still spend a lot of time reading things that are meant to be average but actually sound extremely fun and entertaining. That might be a sign of how average your own life is. Hmmm…
- Noelle thinks you are really good at photography. You can’t really blog about it, because you don’t really have mad skillz. You have friends with mad skillz with their amazingly impressive super duper fast clicking cameras. You just take pics for the fun of it, and offer to take pictures of family and friends who are willing to get what they pay for with free photos.
- Gift ideas? Note to Noelle: Vanessa is the worst gift-giver in the whole entire history of the world. You never know what people want! You’re still trying to figure out what to get The Husband for Christmas … last year! It’s such a challenge. You almost, almost dislike receiving gifts because you never know what to get for those people that get you gifts.
- Your best Thanksgiving memory is … all of them. Well, there is one really good one… The first Thanksgiving with Big Sister around. It was kind of bittersweet because it was also the first Thanksgiving without Granny. But you remember your big, huge cousin sitting with a little tiny Big Sister on his lap. He was playing with her and talking to her, and she was all of 2 months old. He turned into a softy right before your very eyes. Very touching, very sweet, and stands out among all the many Thanksgiving memories you have.
- You love comments, and the crazier the better. Except the ones about male enhancement drugs. Or naked pictures of celebrities. You could do without those. Many of your comments are from really cool people though. Really, really cool and awesome people that you love. And your mom, who is also cool and awesome and you love her too.
- No, no, stop laughing. Admit you have a beauty routine. ADMIT IT! Granted, you don’t know how well it works because even if you do get any compliments, you poo-poo them (work on that), but… You use Neutrogena for your face, because even though you’re a 30-something woman with two kids, you still get zits. You don’t even get embarrassed buying a complete acne therapy system anymore. *sigh* You moisturize. You always moisturize your neck in an upwards motion to prevent that whole saggy neck thing from happening. You wear makeup all. the. time. That’s not a necessary part of every woman’s routine, and you only wrinkle your nose a little bit at those women. But you try to pay attention to makeup tips and suggestions. You find what (you hope) works for you and stick to it. The quest for the perfect mascara seems to be never-ending though. That, and anything that will get rid of forehead wrinkles that does not require poison being injected into you.
- You are a childcare worker and so you know a lot about other people’s kids. One day that might warrant a post. One day.
- You think that FLORIDA FALL WEATHER ROCKS! It is so worth waiting for.
How was that, Noelle?
Have a great weekend! I know I will!!!
Next on our list of suggested blog topics…
Well, Kristina, you gave me two options, but I’m only going to be able to use one of them. Because, you see, I could not even begin to post about how to do Christmas cards. When I tried to do a card or a letter in the past, I basically used the guest list from my various shower and wedding invites. I figured if we cared enough to invite them, we might care enough to keep them up-to-date on what’s going on with our family. But since I started blogging, and since Facebook, the list dwindled down to those I knew didn’t use the WWW for social networking or family reunions. Now if we make a Christmas card, it gets sent as an attachment, or it’ll be seen in Wall Photos.
That’s kind of sad. I actually like filling up my fridge with pictures sent to us. Maybe I’ll have to work on that. Maybe.
Let me talk about something infinitely sadder, though.
“Those guilty pleasure TV shows that one will rarely admit to watching.”
It all started here for me, in Los Angeles, with seven strangers picked to live in a house and have their lives taped. I didn’t watch the first season, but I did watch after that for a while. OH, THE DRAH-MA. But I’m telling you, it was NOT as nastydirty as it looks like it has become. I think the worst thing that happened in Season 2 was when the comedian guy tried to pull the sheets off the singer girl, and she and another girl felt frightened by him after that. So they called a house meeting to discuss. And he was out of there. And… Was it the third season? With Puck? He got kicked out because he stuck his fingers in the peanut butter. That, and snot rockets. My, how times have changed. I’m not feeling so guilty about that one anymore, considering I stopped watching long before there were threesomes in hot tubs. But then…
Then came The Bachelorette. THE ORIGINAL. I watched the heck out of that show. I thought Trista was adorable, and I’m sorry, but I loved the premise. Twenty men chasing after one woman at one time? In another life, that would have been my ultimate fantasy. I don’t know if I could have even pretended that it was difficult to dismiss some of them. “Psh. You can go home. You are WEIRD.” Okay, maybe I couldn’t be that mean. Actually, just last week I was told I was mean like that to a guy at some point. I have zero recollection of that. Must’ve blocked it. ANYWAY. Yes, I loved The Bachelorette. Trista and her various suitors had me on the edge of my seat to the very end — and I had a viewing party. Oh, yes I did. And I am pretty sure I jumped up and squealed when she picked Ryan. And I watched their wedding. And they are still married, with two kids. And I think a Yorkie. And maybe a bigger dog for Ryan, because he’s all firefighter manly and stuff.
So I kept watching, like on and off. I couldn’t stomach most of The Bachelor shows. As I said in the past, I know that I could’ve been one of the bachelorettes in the first episode of any given season — because that’s the only episode I would’ve made it through. You’d have seen me at the end, wiping a solitary tear from my cheek. “I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.” *sniff* Roll credits.
Lots of people don’t like those shows, and I understand why. One guy kissing maybe a half dozen girls in a span of five minutes, or a girl kissing a half dozen guys in that time, and as the seasons go by, there seems to be more flesh, and waaayyy more uncomfortable-to-watch making out. (They didn’t call Jillian “Hot Tub Harris” for nothing.) But when I watch them, it’s like a train wreck.
No, The Bachelor/Bachelorette shows are like… A fender bender. Where people are kind of frustrated and tense, and maybe talking sternly to one another and you notice it as you drive by.
A train wreck would be…
That’s right. Rock of Love. I have admitted that I watched this show in the past. Granted, both times I saw the show, I was laid up in bed, and one time I was on painkillers. But I have to say, if Bret didn’t find his true rock of love with Taya, and they do another season, and there’s ever a time when I’m in the house alone, without The Husband and without The Girls, VH1 might just come on.
Because really, those ladies are… well, not ladies. I’m sorry. I would like to be kind and give them the benefit of the doubt (and maybe some of them cleaned up their act on Charm School, but I don’t know because I didn’t get sucked into that one), but man. They are all about getting drunk, getting naked, and getting… I’ll stop right there. It’s actually hard to watch, and I’m not sure I ever made it through a full episode, but I did always turn it back. It was… kind of fascinating, really.
And sometimes, Bret Michaels is funny.
But by and large, even if I don’t watch the disgusting parts of any of the shows — because The Husband will tell you that sometimes I cover my eyes during a Rumba or an Argentine Tango on Dancing With The Stars — I know that it’s not quality television that I’m watching.
So, I cannot attempt to make this deep and profound, because it’s crap TV. And if Jesus walked in the room, I would change the channel. Or, I might ask Him what’s under Bret Michael’s bandana. But after that, I would change the channel. I don’t know what I’d watch, probably something with Kirk Cameron in it. Or maybe I’d turn off the TV and talk to Jesus.
This blog topic was brought to you courtesy of Winn. Winn, who by now is already staring at this post, or at least the left side of it. Either she’s staring at it dreamily, or with a throat-cutting motion because Michael Vartan has not yet started following her on Twitter. Probably staring at it dreamily, much in the same way he is staring in the picture here.
I didn’t watch Alias. Nor have I seen Hawthorne. I did not see him in Monster-in-Law. I do, however, remember him as Richard Burke’s son on an episode of Friends. You know, The One With Chandler in a Box. The meaning of the box was three fold.
Of course, if I’m going to enjoy looking at Michael Vartan, it’s going to be him as Sam Coulson in Never Been Kissed. And it isn’t so much watching him as it is thoroughly enjoying that movie. I can watch that movie over and over again. I think every girl, and maybe boy, who was ever picked on or considered a geek, dweeb or spazz probably likes or could like that movie.
I’m thinking it could be safe to say that any girl that felt any kinship with Josie Geller probably dreamed of one day meeting her own Sam Coulson. I don’t know if the dream included a kiss in the middle of a baseball field with a crowd watching, but hey, whatever floats your boat. But I know I wanted someone to see past the mess and like the inside of me and think I had potential.
And Josie didn’t find that until she was 25. I was 26. My Sam Coulson has blue eyes, too, but his hair doesn’t do that exciting spiky thing and he prefers the clean-shaven look. But he does see past the mess and he likes the inside of me. Okay, yeah, he likes the outside too, but one of his most endearing (and at the same time, insanely frustrating) qualities is that he often knows me better than I know myself.
Poor Winn. All she wanted was a post about Michael Vartan and she ended up getting some mush. That’s why I posted the picture, though. I hope that made her happy.
- You asked for blog topics.
- You got ’em.
- You never thought someone would suggest you blog about arm flab though.
- Don’t forget to drop Kim a thank you note for that one.
- However, thinking about “bingo arms” did make you stand in front of the mirror and wave.
- Then, that made you start researching ways to prevent that area from becoming seriously problematic.
- Research = Google search on “arm flab.”
- Do not under any circumstance click on Images on that search.
- You just threw up in your mouth a little bit.
- Research = iVillage article.
- Thankfully, Facebook also read your mind and showed you this ad today. Out of the blue.
- Don’t forget to mark that ad “offensive” at some point.
- Facebook is rude.
- Notice, now, that the slimming sleeves are unisex.
- Find out if men are really concerned with “bingo arms.”
- Maybe they call them “couch potato touchdown arms.”
- You just saw that the slimming sleeves are $84.95.
- It is far cheaper to fill up some water or milk jugs and lift them repeatedly. Only bending at the elbow.
- Always consult your physician before beginning any exercise program. Do not just follow a random blog’s advice.
- And, as you are consulting with your physician, wonder about that stethoscope.
Kearsie likes haikus
I wrote this one just for her
I wish it rhymed more
I hope you liked my little tribute up there. I bet you didn’t think I’d actually write a blog post about you. But I figure I kind of owed it to you after I tarnished your blog with hotel sex. (But you wrote about cow castration first, remember.)
So, you and I met at a teeny tiny Baptist college in a teeny tiny Florida town. The first thing I remember about you is getting back rubs in New Testament class, and I would’ve loved to have stayed and listen to Dr. Cook talking about… Well, whatever it was he talked about, because I don’t actually remember much from those days. I may have blocked them. If I could find my notes, though, it would all come back to me. I took awesome notes. Did you ever borrow my notes? Did we ever study together? See, I don’t remember anything.
Well, that’s not entirely true. I remember you walking with Lance, and somehow I knew that his birthday was the same as mine. Maybe he was carrying a balloon? Or maybe I was, and he said something. I don’t know.
But then I left good ol’ Teeny Tiny Baptist College to spend a few years making really bad decisions, and you and Lance continued on and finished school, and you can probably remember much of what you learned. Which is probably a great thing since you guys are going into missions. That’ll help.
Fast forward a few years. You guys get all graduated and get jobs and stuff, have kids. I get all divorced and stuff. And remarried. And had one kid, and another on the way. Right? Wasn’t I pregnant? I don’t remember. Anyway, then came MySpace.
Dear, sweet MySpace. That is where we… Can I even say reconnected? Because we weren’t all that tight in college. But via MySpace and Yahoo Messenger, we got tight. Late night chats, deep discussions. And, okay, not-so-deep discussions. We bonded. We bonded and then we blogged. We blog-bonded.
We used to have tons of time to talk, and then came life. A job, a house, going to bed earlier and not staying up all night on the computer, caring that Hubs and The Husband might want us in bed at a decent time. Things like that.
But no matter what, I have always known that if I need some prayer or if I need someone to talk to, I can call you. I hope you know the same goes for me. Like, you can call me if you need me? For serious. I promise I’m working harder at not leaving my cell phone in the car overnight.
And, on a lighter note, because I don’t want Winn to get all queasy reading this, when I need a laugh, I know where to find it. I may not get the whole Twilight thing, but these crack me up. Also, hearing about your adventures with your girls — because it gives me so much to look forward to! (By the way, does the younger one have a bra yet? And have you ever made Rice Krispy treats again? And do you remember that Dawn Meehan commented on that post?!)
So Kearsie, this one’s for you. You make me smile, you make me laugh, and we will always have Orlando, and a thousand suns.
First, I would like to say that my blog stats indicate that the previous post has been viewed 31 times — that doesn’t include how many times people have just come to the blog and read. I have 5 comments on it. Whassup with that?? I am freely admitting my copycat nature, as well as the fact that I am a comment harlot. You are free to enable me. It is encouraged.
However, I did get some suggestions, and although I could do a separate post for this, I’m going to take Christy’s suggestion and use it in one post. Because she suggested the anniversary of Sesame Street, and Veteran’s Day. Today is The Street’s official anniversary, and tomorrow is Veteran’s Day, and midnight is approaching, so I figure this is excellent timing.
I was watching Sesame Street when they were celebrating their 20th anniversary. Before Elmo. Before Bert and Ernie’s relationship was called into question (and way before they were having adventures while in a bed wearing cowboy hats with Bert saying something that sounds like “this is kind of kinky”). And even before Big Bird’s BFF, Snuffy, could be seen by everyone. Do you remember that? When everyone thought Mr. Snuffalufagus was Big Bird’s imaginary friend? I always felt so bad for Big Bird.
Oh, and Kermit was on Sesame Street! Remember that? Kermit was everybody’s straight man. He was always hopping around to different projects, wasn’t he? The Muppet Show, their movies, running from Miss Piggy. I wonder how they’re doing…
But I watched, and I enjoyed. I am pretty sure I learned aqua and casa from Sesame Street. That got me far in life. I do not think I ate more cookies than the average child due to Cookie Monster. Nor do I think my own children will. If they do, it’s because I give them too many or they get really good at sneaking them.
Sesame Street was good, clean fun. And when my girls choose to watch it, it appears that it still is. I am especially fond of their parodies of shows that we watch after the kids go to bed. (Get your mind out of the gutter!) Look at these titles… Law & Order: Special Letters Unit. A’s Anatomy. Preschool Musical. RSI: Rhyme Scene Investigation. Even Dr. Feel is pretty funny. It’s good stuff.
Happy Anniversary, Sesame Street!
And now, since there is no way for me to smoothly transition…
The resolution passed by Congress on June 4, 1926 that read:
Whereas the 11th of November 1918, marked the cessation of the most destructive, sanguinary, and far reaching war in human annals and the resumption by the people of the United States of peaceful relations with other nations, which we hope may never again be severed, and
Whereas it is fitting that the recurring anniversary of this date should be commemorated with thanksgiving and prayer and exercises designed to perpetuate peace through good will and mutual understanding between nations; and
Whereas the legislatures of twenty-seven of our States have already declared November 11 to be a legal holiday: Therefore be it Resolved by the Senate (the House of Representatives concurring), that the President of the United States is requested to issue a proclamation calling upon the officials to display the flag of the United States on all Government buildings on November 11 and inviting the people of the United States to observe the day in schools and churches, or other suitable places, with appropriate ceremonies of friendly relations with all other peoples.
The day is meant to be “A celebration to honor America’s veterans for their patriotism, love of country, and willingness to serve and sacrifice for the common good.”
“Thank you” doesn’t quite cover it, does it? I can’t wrap my brain around what it takes to serve this country, or be the family of one who is currently serving. But I thank you if you served, and if you are serving. That’s all I can do. That, and pray.
And then, be amazed that I found an image that combines these topics, kinda sorta…