Friday, January 30, 2009

How Many Soaps Actually Fit In A Box?

Good news--I am no longer feeling blah. Yesterday I felt "eh" and today... well today I'm just plain optimistic. My guess is 95% of my optimism is due to it being Friday. Last night Michael and I had a great workout and then went to my favorite bbq joint where I ate my weight in brisket and fried okra. Ok, scratch that, my optimistic attitude is purely due to the fried okra. As it should be.

So if I might dust off the ol' soap box and hop on it for a minute. Something has been bothering me this week and I'd like to share it with you.

When you are young (<18), you are praised for doing what's right, encouraged to succeed, and embraced when you've had a bad day, a bad week, or simply a cut on your finger. Then you become an adult and everything stops. You're sick? You get bombarded with stories of how so-and-so is just as sick (if not MORE sick), you get rolls of eyes from those that don't believe you, and you get one day recovery time. When you succeed, you are LUCKY if you get a pat on the back, but usually, it's just expected. And compliments? Oh no.... you're not getting those anymore, you should have enough confidence in yourself that compliments are no longer necessary.

So I think that attitude is crap. I'm not saying you should be treated like a child your whole life, but some aspects of your childhood follow into adulthood and it seems so odd that so much should stop. It's a giant (and unwelcomed) wake up call the first time something neat happens and you realize you're celebrating alone.

Am I the only one that gets a huge surge of happiness when someone compliments me? I don't think I am. We're so afraid people will get a big head or we're so consumed with our own insecurities that we keep it to ourselves. "They're an adult, they should already know their presentation was great, don't need to hear anything from me." Yes they DO! Probably more than you'll ever know. I look at myself as a fairly confident person, but when someone takes the time out of their busy day to say something nice, it means... so much.

My mom has said I was blessed with the gift of being empathetic. I am pretty good at putting myself in their shoes and thinking, "If I were them right now, what would I want me to say?" The problem with this so-called "gift" is I expect the same in return. I will share something with someone and get my feelings hurt when their response isn't what I expected. I realize I am super sensitive and it's not something I particularly love about myself. I wish I could have it both ways--be empathetic towards others yet not have my feelings hurt when it's not reciprocated.

So my challenge to you, dear blogger friends, is to remember there is still a pig-tailed (or spiky-haired) child in all of us. Hearing words of love, support, and reassurance from you can make someone's day so much brighter. It's one of the best gifts you can give and it never, ever grows old. Not to mention it's FREE and last I heard we're in a recession. So spread the wealth!

I have now stepped off my soap box and will get back to work.

Editor's note: This post is not about any particular person or situation. It's just a general thought process and I figured If I posted it on here I might make room in my head for other important thoughts. I need all the help I can get. Thanks.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009


I'm going to make this short because no one likes to read a "blah" post and I don't really enjoy writing one.

But right now (at this very moment), I'm feeling rather blah. That's the only word I can think of to describe it. I'm not sad or mad, or even scared (I HATE being scared)!

Monday I went to work and left my frozen meal on the counter. Just left it. I have always had the tendency to forget things (not birthdays or meetings, but actual things: coats, checks, lunches, etc.). My mom used to tell me to put the item by the door but even then I still managed to forget it. Once I actually stepped over the item and grumbled about it littering the doorway.

Yesterday was a snow day for us, which was fun. As I mentioned in a previous post, I spent my last snow day feverishly cleaning the house so I could spend the next snow day relaxing. We weren't given another snow day and I was filled with remorse. Yesterday I knew better and kept the cleaning to a minimum. And wouldn't you know it, I am definitely back at work today.

I just microwaved my frozen meal for lunch and proceeded to drop the entire thing on the floor. It busted open and made an enormous mess. My lower lip stuck out FAR, people. I cleaned it up and decided I'd grab some fast food but remembered Michael has the car today due to the bad weather (I refuse to drive in this crap for my and everyone else's own safety). Frozen food lunches this week: 2. Frozen food lunches ruined this week: 2. Number of lunches actually eaten by me: 0.

And lastly, I am in my annual winter slump (AWS). My skin is pale, I'm sick of sweaters, and my hair is short. The last complaint isn't typically a part of AWS, but is the result of last year's AWS, "I'm sick of having long hair!" Wouldn't it be nice if I could just agree with myself for once?

So there you have it. No food, pale skin, short hair, bad weather, pink shoes. BLAH.

Coincidentally, AWS also stands for "American Welding Society," "Amazon Web Services," and "American Warmblood Society." Who knew?

Monday, January 26, 2009

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Shoes, Glorious Shoes!

When Michael and I decided to buy a house, our biggest decision was whether we should purchase old or new. We loved the charm and location of older homes in Tulsa, but we loved the big kitchens, big bathrooms, and very big closets in the new homes even more. For us, the decision turned out to be an easy one. Our master closet is a pretty decent size but what sold it for me was the shoe shelves. As soon as I saw them my heart (and feet) melted. Unfortunately, what I saw as "shoe shelves," Michael saw as "sweater/shirt shelves." And perhaps both of us were right, but I firmly believed I was MORE right.

I claimed one shelf for my shoes, one for my tanks, and let him have the others for his sweaters. I didn't throw a fit, but I so badly wanted to have a Carrie Bradshaw closet. One day. One day...

A small victory occurred this weekend. I was granted another shelf. I am (quite literally) moving up the ladder. My goal is to have conquered all 5 shelves by 2011. Have you ever played the game Risk? Well it is taking place in the Haynes household, but instead of territories they are shelves. And I am slowly and stealthily taking over. World domination.

In other shoe news, I broke down and bought new running shoes today. Different websites argue how many miles you can put on them before you need new ones and I'm going to say these bad boys have seen about 600 miles. Waaaay too many. The thing is, these aren't just any shoes. They're the shoes I wore while running Riverside Drive many, many times preparing for my first half marathon. And they're the ones I had on when I crossed that finish line. I wore them when we hiked around Maui and I wore them while moving into our first house. If a pair of shoes could talk, these would have so much to say. So as girly as this sounds, they aren't JUST shoes. They're a footprint (harhar) in the long and often arduous journey I like to call life.

Michael and I went to Fleet Feet and I found the same pair. My pair. Except for one thing. They were pink. PINK, people. Most of you know that pink is (by far) my least favorite color. To say my shoulders sank is an understatement. I actually looked at other shoes to see if I could find a pair sans pink when one of the employees asked if she could help. I pointed to the shoes and asked if she had that brand/style in any color other than pink. I apologized for my ridiculous behavior and she excused herself to the back room. She returned with 6 different pairs of shoes, including the pink ones. I tried a few but they felt so foreign. And not "sweet, sweet wine in Italy" foreign but "on the bus without a bus pass and no one speaks your language" foreign. I took them off as fast as possible. I finally tried on the pink shoes and good Lord I immediately knew what silly Cinderella felt like. Perfect. Exactly as they should be. I looked down and decided the pink could be kind of cute. Maybe I NEED a little pink in my life. I took them off, they rang them up, and I walked out with my first pair of pink running shoes. Who knows, maybe next time I buy a pair I'll even request that crazy color. But for now, I'm just excited to see what awesome memories I'll make while wearing them.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

We Had Confederate Flag License Plates. Wow.

Now that it's 2009, I've been thinking about 2010. Funny how that works. I was senior class president in high school, which means I was blessed with the responsibility of planning all class reunions. Next year will be the big 10. I can't believe it. A part of me is excited, but the other part (which happens to be slightly larger) is not quite ready to embrace my oldness. I remember watching "Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion" (best movie ever) and thinking they were ancient. And now it's a year away. I can't wait to order a business woman special. And you better believe I am going to perform a synchronized dance with my friends before we are all whisked away in a helicopter.

A few years ago (4 to be exact), I was at Best Buy looking at some phones. One of the employees asked if he could help me with something and then told me I looked familiar. I politely said, "I was thinking the same thing about you!" (Even though I wasn't--who WAS this guy?) After a few guesses, we realized we were in the same graduating class. I sighed and said, "Can you believe it's been 5 years?" And then the jackass replied, "Yea, I heard we were supposed to have a 5-year reunion but our class president was too lazy to put one together." My eyes narrowed and then quickly returned to normal as I emphatically shook my head and said, "I heard that too! Seriously, how lazy can you get?!" Aaaand with that I politely smiled and left.

Just so you KNOW--no class at SHS has ever had a 5-year reunion. I'm not lazy. What a punk.

Below is a survey I stole from Haley's blog. All about good ol' high school. I was going to post the most popular song from 2000 but I looked it up and it's, "Who Let the Dogs Out?" Are you kidding me? Embarrassing. (Sidenote: I found a shirt once that said, "No seriously, who let the f-ing dogs out?" and I laughed for 15 minutes straight.)

1. Did you date someone from your school? I did

2. Did you marry someone from your high school? I did not

3. Did you carpool to school? I rode with my mom my sophomore year. I think I drove my junior and senior year.

4. What kind of car did you have? God bless the black tracker and the green lebaron

5. What kind of car do you have now? A grey Prius, with a messed up bumper

6. It's Friday night...where are you? At the Hill's house. Or people are over at my house.

7. It is Friday night...where are you? (now) Depends! Out of town visiting friends, at dinner/bar with in-town friends, or on the couch with Michael (is it bad that the last one is usually my favorite choice?)

8. What kind of job did you have in high school? I was a waitress at Calico County (baaahahaha) the summer between sophomore and junior year. And I tutored kids in math.

9. What kind of job do you have now? Communications/Marketing director at First Presbyterian.

10. Were you a party animal? Definitely not.

11. Were you considered a flirt? Definitely not.

12. Were you in band, orchestra, or choir? I was in choir the first 2 years. Quit my senior year.

13. Were you a nerd? Eh... 50/50. I took the hard classes, I didn't drink, but I was decent friends with everyone. I don't think people were embarrassed to be around me.

14. Did you get suspended or expelled? No. I did take advantage of my mom's hall passes though.

15. Can you sing the fight song? Not at all.

16. Who was/were your favorite teacher(s)? Mr. Ford--AP Biology. Loved that class.

17. Where did you sit during lunch? Same table every day all 3 years. My sophomore year I had a huge crush on someone so I positioned myself so I could watch him every day. What a creeper. I believe I am now 2 inches taller than him.

18. What was your school's full name? Southside High School

19. When did you graduate? 2000

20. What was your school mascot? Rebel (We yelled, "The South Shall Rise Tonight." We danced to "Dixie." We had confederate flag license plates. It never struck me as odd until I told people about it in college and got THE worst looks ever.)

21. If you could go back and do it again, would you? No. Absolutely not.

22. Did you have fun at your senior prom? Eh, I had an ok time. I was in charge of it so by the time I got there I was over it.

23. Do you still talk to the person you went to prom with? My junior year--yes! (Hi John!)

24. Are you planning on going to your next reunion? If I have the time... :)

25. Do you still talk to people from school? Not many. It's always good catching up with everyone but I didn't make a huge effort to keep up with a ton.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009


There were approx 893 pictures taken this weekend. Here are a few...

Bridesmaids with the bride...

Modeling our bridesmaid gift...

The five of us with our men...

Em and Mer

My hot date...

Matching smiles...

Mr. and Mrs. Snider!


The bride and her matron of honor...


As I mentioned in a previous post... Stunning!

Cutting the cake...

Dancing and pointing (I'm the one that's getting low...)

God bless our dance moves. It takes talent to dance and drink.



Beautiful flowers...

Steve's fraternity bros singing to the two of them.

"I have found my dream girl." (DG serenade)

Monday, January 19, 2009

"Are You Crying? ARE YOU CRYING!? There's No Crying!"

(Continued from yesterday...)

I reread yesterday's entry and realized I didn't mention how GORGEOUS Kait looked on Saturday. She was absolutely stunning. No one expected anything less but I think she blew us all away.

And now we go back to the reception. After I finished my speech (and cake), Michael turned to me and said, "I need to tell you something." My mind immediately raced, "Oh my gosh, we ARE pregnant" but realized that was the wine talking. I'm an idiot. So I just looked at him and waited. He told me he'd been in a wreck after the ceremony. In our 4-month old Prius. I noticed he made it to the reception sans crutches/cast so I knew he wasn't terribly injured but I immediately asked if he was ok. He mentioned a sore back and neck but nothing critical. A man behind him plowed into our car and left a pretty bruised bumper. They both pulled over and the man showed Michael his drivers license and claimed he had liability (in between cigarette puffs). Michael walked away with little hope. I was still on my speech-high so I blew the whole thing off and told him we'd worry about it later. Famous last words.

After the wedding a group of us went out for a few drinks and then Michael and I came home and fell into bed. It had been a very, very long (albeit exciting) day. I woke up Sunday morning feeling like hell. I told Michael I had a ridiculously painful headache from the 35 bobby pins and he politely asked if perhaps it was from the 35 glasses of red wine. Touché. We packed up our stuff, checked out at the front desk and discovered the hotel had made a mistake that wasn't in our favor. We dealt with it and walked to the car. As I was putting my stuff in the trunk I saw the damage from the stupid accident and started crying (cry count: 4; first was at the salon, second was with Michael Homan, third was talking to my brother). Michael was understandably confused and wondered what happened to the carefree Merd he talked to the night before. She was long gone, my friends. Instead, a hiccuping idiot was now standing in her place. I calmed down a bit as we drove home and started recounting the wedding. I mentioned how neat it was that Kait's brother and sister sang a duet for her first dance and how proud their parents must have felt at that moment. Aaaand the tears ensued (cry count: 5). What the HECK was wrong with me?!?!

This was how I felt ALL DAY yesterday. I never gained control of myself and honestly, it was aggravating and a little scary. Today I took a much needed "mental health day" and feel much, much better. My mom called and told me they put a pacemaker in my grandad and he is doing well. I spent a lot of time with Thumbs Magee and Michael (he's home sick with terrible allergies), and I was able to just... breathe. It felt good.

Note to all: I typically cry (on average) once every four months. This past weekend I cried five times. That means my next cry should not happen until September, 2010. For poor Michael's sake, I hope I am right.

I said I'd post pictures tonight but eh.... perhaps tomorrow? Although I know you won't have time to read my blog because you will be too busy watching Mr. Barack Obama make history.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

1.17.09 (<-- All Odd Numbers)

What a weekend! I don't think I have ever been on an emotional roller coaster quite like this one. A lot of fantastic things happened and several sad/frustrating things happened. I haven't had a chance to really let it all sink in until now. I feel like I'm in quick sand.

On Thursday I received a call from my mom. She let me know that my grandad passed out the night before and the doctors found a blood clot in his lung that morning. He also had an incredibly weak heart. The doctor's weren't terribly pessimistic, but they did tell my parents that a trip to Florida was in their best interest. My mom was terribly frightened for her dad's health but was also sad that this meant they would miss Kait and Steve's wedding. We hung up just as I arrived at my hair appointment. I sat in the chair and my stylist asked the million dollar question that always sets me off: "Is everything ok?" Have you ever bawled your eyes out at a salon? Because I have. It wasn't pretty. I felt (and still feel) so helpless. I've never wanted to be with my mom more in my life. What does it feel like when you find out your lifelong hero is sick? There have been many times my mom has said she wished she could take my burdens and carry them herself. Sometimes she succeeded. All I wanted on Thursday was to be able to return the favor. And I couldn't. My heart hurt for both of them.

Friday morning I was up at 5a and on my way to StL for my best friend's wedding. The day was full of preparations and day-before-wedding excitement. Being the matron of honor, I was to give a speech at the wedding reception. Folks, 5 years ago I would have loved nothing more. I used to thrive on presentations. I'm not sure when the big switch happened, but I have been terrified about this speech from the moment I found out I was to give one. I had nightmares about being the one glitch in her otherwise perfect day. That being said, I wrote the speech about 9 months ago and practiced it daily for the past 3 weeks. Every morning shower, every car ride, and every time I woke up at 3a in the morning I would recite the speech. I spent most of Friday and ALL of Saturday with a nervous twitch.

The rehearsal/rehearsal dinner were great and we all had a fantastic time. We saw some great pictures of Kait and Steve when they were little and it was so good to have our group of friends reunited. Several of us went to a bar afterwards before we headed back to the hotel.

Saturday I woke up in a bewildered state of excitement (wedding), anxiousness (speech), and fear (grandad). While I was getting my hair/makeup done, I received a call from my mom saying grandad was doing much, much better and I was able to remove fear from my emotion bank and replace it with gratitude. Things were looking up! We went from the salon to Kait's house and got ready. I took a good glimpse of myself in the mirror and started humming Elton John's "Tiny Dancer." I'd seen a great picture of Heidi Klum with her hair pulled back and thought I could do the same. With my "smoky eyes" and pulled back hair I was a dead ringer for a ballerina on crack. Can't win them all. Sigh.

Kait was the perfect bride. Calm, cool, and very much collected. I was in awe. She acted like she got married every day (for those of you that don't know her, this was, in fact, her first wedding). The ceremony was beautiful. Afterwards, we spent about an hour taking pictures outside (brrrr) and then it was off to the reception. By this point my heart was doing everything it could to remove itself from my chest. I barely touched my dinner (which was unfortunate because it was delicious) and then it was go-time. Her sister and I walked up to the front and I gave the speech I'd recited so many times before. I did fine. Nothing extraordinary but no huge slip-ups. Used my cheat card twice. Even managed to get a few laughs from the crowd. Glory. It was over. I went back to my seat and ate my cake in pure bliss. The rest of the night was spent dancing, drinking, and having a fabulous time.

A quick math equation for you:

Red wine
Good band
Several more glasses of red wine
= January 17, 2009

This is getting rather long so I think I will write the rest tomorrow. Stay tuned for the Prius' first brush with fate (fate = white town car), an update on grandad (he is alive and doing well), pictures from the wedding, and a ridiculously emotional Merd. I'm sure you can barely stand the wait.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

My Favorite Little Man

We are once again making the ridiculously long drive to Chicago the second weekend in February so we can celebrate my brother and sister-in-law's 30th birthdays. Until then, I will (try to) patiently wait each week for pictures of Mr. Evan. Here are some of the latest...

He gets his big smile from his mom! (And maybe a little from Aunt Merdi? Yes?)

Super baby! (Apparently he does this a LOT. Michael and I got him a Superman onesie for Christmas so I'm hoping they get a picture of him doing this pose in that shirt.)

Doesn't it look like he just said, "Ohhhh... You GOT me! Drat!" Or perhaps he's just doing the white man dance.

Handsome boy... :)

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

A Normal Day At The Gym

I went to the gym last night. ALONE. Have I told you about our gym? It's borderline white trash. We love it. Michael and I hate the "see and be seen" gyms and avoid them at all costs. We saw this one and thought, "This is the last place I would ever want to be seen" so we signed up immediately. Michael's work reimburses 75% of the cost so the two of us are members for about $13 a month. Nice!

Michael wasn't feeling well so it was single Mere time. I found an open treadmill and went to work. The girl next to me was huffing and puffing but something wasn't quite right. She was running extreeeemely sloooooowly. I checked her stats and she was running a 3.5. Is that even possible? I realize I walk pretty fast (a 5) but it was a little awkward that I was walking faster than she was running. Oh well, to each his own. I walked for a bit, ran for awhile (at a 6, which is almost 2 of my footsteps for every one of hers), and then heard some pretty weird noises coming from the slow motion runner. After a failed attempt to drown her out with Jimmy Eat World, I decided it was time for something else. Got a drink of water and walked over to the weights.

And that is when I saw her.

This woman. No, she was not a woman. Perhaps a she-beast? She was terrifying. Her hips were about half the size of mine and her legs were the size of Michael's. I have NO idea how she walks, it was the craziest hip to leg ratio I've ever seen. I kept staring at her body and then realized the mirrors gave me away. I looked up and she was staring at my reflection. I jumped. I started doing my little workout and occasionally glanced at the she-beast. She kept looking at her own reflection and flexing. Every once in awhile she'd make an angry face and I'd jump again (not good when you're holding weights). It was bizarre.

We've noticed there are several body builders that work out at our gym. There are two types of members--severely obese and severely steroided. I just made that word up. I'm not sure we qualify for either (what with my 20 pound limit on triceps).

Finished my workout and booked it. Michael and I adore people-watching but that place is a madhouse! I can only wonder what they say about us. Needless to say, I do believe the tables have turned.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Case of the Mondays

Do you have a Monday outfit? I do. Most people like to begin the week with a fresh start and a good impression. Crisp shirt, ironed pants, etc. Not me. I like to EASE into the work week. Today I am wearing my trusty ol' AE khaki pants from the 2003 collection (sans pleats--even I have limits), a white tank and a pinkish sweater. Pulled together nicely by my grey converse shoes. Hair back, minimal makeup, and possible remnants of stubborn sleep lines that refuse to leave my face. It's not a pretty site, but it's one you'll see me sporting almost every Monday. Most days I see one person--my boss--who is kind enough to drop by and say a quick hello. He comes to work in a suit every day. I used to feel guilty.

Enough about that. Had a great weekend! Michael and I went to a friend's house for the OU/Florida game Thursday evening. We walked into a room full of OU fans and quickly headed to the back so no one would see our silent victory dance every time Florida scored. We weren't disrespectful and we didn't high five until we were in the safe confines of our car and on the way home. Had a great time with everyone.

Friday we had dinner with Gary and the-cutest-pregnant-girl-I've-ever-seen. Otherwise known as Anna. They are expecting a little girl in the next two weeks and we had fun catching up with them. Gary is as scared of needles, blood, and veins as I am so we were coaching each other through the difficult times ahead. Michael and Anna quietly shook their heads and rolled their eyes. :)

Yesterday we went to church and then cleaned the house for small group. I also did 74 loads of laundry. And baked a cake. And discovered the newest element of the Periodic table, which is aptly named "Meredium." 1 of the above statements is false--I'll let you figure it out.

At small group last night we watched an excellent video and had a great discussion. It was about your many layers and how many you let others see. What defines you? What do you hide and what do you proudly display? It was one of those queasy stomach videos where you know they're hitting home and you're not quite sure you like how transparent you've become. Well anyway, Michael Homan asked each of us to mention a few things about our spouse that not everyone knows. Rather than focus on the negative, we all mentioned several positive aspects and my queasy stomach was replaced with a warm and fuzzy feeling.

Michael and I have become good friends with a couple from our small group and we found out last night that they are moving 2 miles from us! We could not be more thrilled. God bless great neighbors!!

And speaking of good friends, Kait and Steve are getting married THIS WEEKEND!!!! It is going to be a beautiful wedding and I am so excited that 2 great people will soon become 1 fantastic couple in a few short days. Doesn't it just make you want to curl up and watch Father of the Bride? Don't forget your naahvy blue tuxaahdo. :)

Thursday, January 8, 2009

The Golden Rule in the 21st Century

jlife reconvened at church last night. Michael and I enjoyed our three weeks off for Christmas break but it was good to see the kiddos again. We thought we'd ease back into things by having a short lesson (aka: we were unprepared). As the kids were killing each other with dodge balls, I was scrambling for a Bible story to share with the group. I found one that was all about the Golden Rule and thought it was perfect. Dodgeball is played on the honor system and each week I witness at least one of them lie about getting hit with the ball. On days when I'm exhausted I choose to ignore it but most of the time Michael or I call them out and give them the stern, "Lying is baaaaad" speech. The circle of life moment occurs when the liar then hits another player with the ball and that player also claims they were not hit. Suddenly there are a bunch of red-faced preteens pointing fingers at one another with loud proclamations of "I HIT them! They're LYING!" Ah yes, the Golden Rule.

So we sat in a circle and I read the lesson. I asked if anyone knew what the Golden Rule was and heard several wrong (albeit funny) answers. "Silence is Golden!" (YES!!!) "Be good to your parents." (Fantastic!) "Whoever has the gold makes the rule." (I threw that in for you Aladdin fans.) Finally one of our favorites and the constant go-to when you need the right answer said, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." I asked him to put that into 21st century terms and he replied, "Don't shoot someone if you don't want them to shoot you." Awesome. I reminded him that the rule encompassed more than guns and he came back with a more appropriate answer.

The kids were GETTING it! Each volunteered an instance when they had done something wrong and how they should have handled the situation. We talked about not getting back at others even if they made us angry. Their eyes were lighting up, there was excitement in their voices, and I gave myself a fierce pat on the back for being the world's best teacher. After the lesson we shared prayer requests (this takes at least 15 minutes every week--6th and 7th graders adore this time for reasons beyond me) and then it was time to go. Most days Michael and I trudge to the car utterly exhausted but this week I actually had a hop in my step.

And then reality hit.

As I approached the lobby I saw two unhappy kids, both with their arms crossed. I looked at one, then the other and noticed she had lemonade all OVER the shirt she'd just received for Christmas. I looked at the guilty party and asked, "What just happened?" His reply made my head drop, "Well she pinched me and that made me mad so I poured my lemonade on her."

So much for the Golden Rule.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009


Today I'd like to introduce you to two people and then collect some thoughts from the group.

I have a doctor's appointment next month, which will be my first visit. Thanks to the internet, I tend to do a bit o' research before I arrive so I know what to expect. I hate surprises (loathe them, actually) and I want to know something about that person when he/she walks through the door. I think it's only fair since they know my complete history and all of my emergency contacts to boot.

So I look up Dr. Soandso (pronounced: so-and-so), and read a bit of history. And then I see his picture. I am pretty sure he was in my sophomore English class. Am I really old enough to have a doctor my own age? Actually the answer is no, but I am firmly convinced I have a Doogie Howser on my hands. I am going to ask him what his favorite TV show was while growing up and when he replies "Full House" I will know I was right.

Take a look. Pretty young, eh? (I changed his hair color so he could remain anonymous) :)

Moving on. The other day one of my co-workers told me I looked like someone on TV. That is HUGE, people. Michael has been told he looks like at least 4 different TV/movie stars. I tend to get, "You look like my cousin Sally!" So my eyes grew and I quickly replied, "WHO!?" I am not allowed to reveal the identity of this co-worker (I was threatened) but he proceeded to tell me he was addicted to soap operas and that I looked like Heather from Young and the Restless. I smiled politely and thought, "Soap opera. Sooooo not a real TV star." Regardless, I went back to my desk and looked up this gal. I couldn't stop laughing. Let's take a look at her, shall we?

Is there any part of her, ANY, that even halfway resembles me? No. Absolutely not. I mean I'm flattered, I think she's very pretty, but I believe I look as much like her (same lady):

as I do her:

Oh well. In other news, Michael and I have been homeowners for a year now (as of last Sunday). I think I might take a few updated pictures of the house--quite a bit has changed since the originals (decorative only).

Off to dress rehearsal.

Monday, January 5, 2009

So Much For 2 Weeks...

I talked to my mom tonight and heard dad yell in the background, "What's the big news?!" I paused out of confusion so mom continued, "Yea... is there something you need to tell us? The blog..." Oh no.

I am not pregnant.

I am NOT pregnant.

I AM not pregnant.

Sorry, I did not mean to lead anyone to that conclusion. When that day happens, I will be shouting it from the roof tops with those crazy chimney sweepers. So don't you worry. (Sidenote: It will not be happening anytime soon.)

My "fun news," which is now not that fun compared to a grandkid, is Michael and I decided to do the OKC Memorial half marathon in April. See? Fun for me, not so much for you. I wasn't going to say anything because we JUST started training. I didn't want to announce it to the world and then become a loser and not do it. So now that I've announced it to each of you, I'm 100% committed! I completed the OKC half in 2007 with Kait and LOVED it. Last year I was in a friend's wedding that same weekend so I took a year off and am ready to do it again. Our church's marriage retreat conflicts with the marathon but we decided 16 weeks of training together would probably bring us closer than a 48-hour retreat. And this way I get to see my husband's great legs every day (if you are single--find the nearest soccer player and MARRY him)!

I wish I could say we're going to run all 13.1 miles but that is just silly. My stupid back would never allow it, and let's be honest, that is A LOT of miles to run.

So there you have it. Next time you see me, ask me how many times I've worked out that week. Then tell me it's not enough and to get down and give you 20. And then when I can only do one half of one push-up, we can laugh about it together.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

It Can Only Get Better...

I've decided a 4-day weekend is not a good idea. Let's take a look at what I accomplished in the past 96 hours.

The Good:
-Put away ALL Christmas decorations
-Completed stage 1 of "Spring Cleaning 2009" (there are approx. 27 stages)
-Spent a lovely Friday with my parents
-Brought in the New Year at Kait and Steve's home
-Exercised twice

The Bad:
-Slept. A LOT. Even Thumbs decided I was a sloth.
-Cried 7 times in 6 hours (see The Biggest Loser below)

The Ugly:
-Ate fried pickles, fried green beans, and bbq wings for dinner Saturday night. Decided that wasn't enough gluttony so I then enjoyed a huge piece of chocolate cake.
-Watched 6+ hours (in a row) of The Biggest Loser. Had a fleeting moment of wishing I was 300+ lbs so I could then lose half my body weight and bust through a paper wall while millions cheered/cried for me.
-Almost died the first time I exercised. I did the whole hands on knees, breathing like I was in labor while whimpering to my trainer (Michael), "Just go. Just GO. LEEEEAVE me!" (He did not.)
-Got addicted to Bejeweled on my iPhone. I will never make fun of Michael and his gaming addiction ever, ever again.
This picture:

(My newest resolution: Buy self tanner. USE self tanner. For the past several years I've been 172% against tanning beds and will give you a list of reasons why you should be too, but it doesn't mean I need to give Casper some competition. YEESH.)

The end. Keep in mind, my mom used to take tour groups to New York City and they saw the ENTIRE CITY in the same amount of time it took me to do the above tasks. 2009 is looking a bit bleak. :) I do have some good news to report (for me, not really you), but I think I'm going to wait a few weeks before I make the announcement. Call it self-preservation.


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