Wednesday, May 28, 2008

casting call.

LC left a few things off that you will have to do: 

1. Encourage her to pursue her dreams of becoming a reality tv star... and maybe even help her with her application video and make sure she gets the deadline right. 
2. Don't be offended when she doesn't say hi. or bye. 
3. Stroke her ego. 
4. Make her uncomfortable by using words like "stroke" and asking her about her how far she's gone. 
5. Bake her chocolate chip cookies. No nuts or peanut butter. 
6. Be willing to always eat only pizza, bubba's, or chuy's. 
7. Always expect a phone call, an email, or an invitation to hang out.

there she goes.

I am sitting in 2620 right now...if this were 2007, I would be living here. This last weekend was the one year anniversary of 2620.

With that, I must announce...Laura Brittain is leaving me. She's leaving us all. gUrl, gon' pack her bags and move to a foreign damn country. A month from today Britt is getting on a plane, probably not waving goodbye (because I will have pissed her off in the waning moments of her being on the same continent as me) and stepping on a plane to Ecuador. 

So, I am taking applications. I need a new partner for the following:

1. Watching TV/ movies (documentaries) for hours on end (usually on weekends).
2. Taking me shopping and picking out my clothes, while being honest on how something looks on me.
3. g-chatting with me about 5 hours a day.
4. Answering the phone about 12 times a day.
5. Telling me how good I look (often).
5. Telling me how great my hair is (really often).
6. Loving me unconditionally, which means-- when I don't breathe or talk.

You people can try, but I know no one can be as annoyed with me as Britt. 

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

my original inspiration for blogging.

Jordan Parker and McCauley Sumner.

Back in the fall of '06 these two girls set off on travels around the world and, much to my delight, started blogging. As as I would sit at my desk and read about their travels I longed for the day, that I too, could blog. And now, here we are.

Big shout out to JP and Mc for inspiring me to blog, for being my friends at Kanakuk that first summer long ago, for keeping in touch, for being funny, for sending great Christmas cards, for being fashionable, for offering me three-week-old fried chicken and most importantly-- for being fun girls and loving Jesus all at the same time.

Friday, May 23, 2008

we value your opinion.

I just think blogging would be more fun if more people commented. So don't be shy. Bring it on.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

what i did this week: television.

Sad that this is what my life has come to. So be it. For now.

If this week was good for anything, it was TV. Important 2-hour finales and premiers in the same week is almost too much to handle. Somehow, we managed.

We started off with a doozie… the One Tree Hill season finale which left Raven fans everywhere wondering, which tri of the trifecta did Lucas Scott call at the end of the episode (i.e. who does he really love)?! The only encouragement in this season finale is that we can rest assured that season 6 is upon us.

My dismay over Lucas’ phone call was short-lived as I switched on the premiere of The Bachelorette faster than you can say “DeAnna Pappas.” It should come as no surprise that this show would take my mind off things... it was simply painful to watch. Bad enough that DeAnna’s apparent comfort mechanism is compulsive hugging, the situation was magnified by the fact that bachelor after bachelor attempted to twirl her, forcing her to stumble over the train of her dress. She did get a few of them back, though, and returned the twirl-favor. Always entertaining to see 30-something men twirl.

Of course, there was an American Idol viewing or two this week at 2620. Albeit mostly fast-forwarded through to avoid Ryan’s lame jokes and other obscure performances, we were really pulling for “Big David.” Tami voted enough for all of us and then some.

But tonight. Tonight is the culmination of all my TV dreams come true… it’s reality, its dance. It’s the one show I would give up all other shows for. It’s SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE!!!! Needless to say, if you call me tonight between 7 and 9, I probably won’t answer.

In other news, I’m trying to sell my bike and bike rack so LC helped me create a craigslist ad last night. Although I am a newbie to creating ads on craigslist, LC is an old pro. Her most notable ad being the one in which she offered up my bedroom for $25 a night. And put my real email on there. Awesome.

Call me if you want a bike.

“Television is more interesting than people. If it were not, we would have people standing in the corners of our rooms.” –Alan Corenk*

*I don’t actually agree with Alan on this one.

Monday, May 19, 2008

bright orange posterboard.

I noticeably lack compassion. I am not a compassionate person. It is hard for me to wrap my head around situations that people find themselves in and feel sorry for them. Most of the time, I just absolutely cannot relate and therefore absolutely do not understand.

However, you throw in a puppy, an older sick person or a small child and my heart immediately aches. The Jesus in my heart screams and I long to figure out a way I can get the small child into a better school system or get the older person decent healthcare. My heart never screams, give them cash or buy them some chips, it's always, I want to help them for the long haul. Then my heartstrings go loose and I immediately wonder what side of the political fence my desire to get children a good education puts me on.

I've been noticing homeless people a lot lately. When I see them I want to help, but never have the means. Ie; a Bible to give them, new clothes or groceries. But, most of the time when I see them I only did they get that wheelchair onto the very tall curb and where did they get that bright orange posterboard that definitely costs money? Then that makes me wonder what side of the religious fence I'm on. Jesus doesn't like people on fences, but I don't like people asking me for money.

Especially when they spend that money on bright orange posterboard.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

the bachelor (proposes)

Finally, I can get some sleep-- Matt chose someone.

It's kind of weird to say that I'm relieved Matt picked Shayne. But, he did and I'm so glad he told slutted-up, Goodwill negligee wearing, Chelsea, GOOD-BYE FOREVER. Chelsea obviously isn't as brilliant as Shayne-- again-- hard to believe.

Shayne won over the family and in turn, won over the first international, most dramatic and tallest Bachelor in history. Congratulations, Shayne. You have won yourself a few months of press, a huge Tacori ring (2.5 carats, I believe), a few trips to Europe and oh yeah, a boy.

I wish these two a butt-load of happiness.

Monday, May 12, 2008

I'm going to learn Spanish across the bar.

Yesterday, I went to Waco to spend the day with the fam. After a lovely lunch with Pat (guest/host of honor), Keith, Kerri (sister), Scott (brosef-in-law), and an empty place setting for Otto/Jordan(jer-din)/OJB (my grandfather who lives with my parents and who, yesterday, slept right through lunch, until about 12:45), it was time to head over to Wesley Woods, as it is affectionately referred to. Wesley Woods is the Alzheimer’s home where my grandmother, Zaidee, Otto’s beloved, lives. My mom oft tells me stories of its happenings, but I had never experienced it for myself until yesterday.

Zaidee is a character if there ever was one. Qualities such as opinionated, outspoken, and eccentric paired with ones that accompany dementia: a hyper-imagination and severe memory loss. While Alzheimer’s is not something to take lightly, it does provide some funnies, and its good and necessary to be able to laugh sometimes. Even when mixed with tragedy, a little laughter goes a long way.

We were happy to see that Zaidee recognized us when we walked in. Although she neither said Kerri’s or my name (she even skipped the usual “babydoll” that I so often get), we were surprised that she announced “Hi Scott” as soon as he walked in. This was impressive since last time we checked, she was at least 10 years back, and Scott has only been in the picture for the past five or six.

Her real excitement came when she saw Otto walk in, though. “Oh my!” she said. “Come here,” and she kissed him on the cheek. “Did you miss me?”

“What was that?” Otto asked.

“Did you miss me?” she repeated.

“Oh, oh yeah.” Otto obliged.

“Hold my hand.”

“I can’t hear ya.” He leaned in.

“Hold my HAND.”

“Zaidee, I can’t hear you.”


He held her hand.

We proceeded to a sitting area by a big bay window to chat for a bit longer. As we discussed summer plans and the travels we are soon to embark upon, Zaidee reminisced about her time as a twenty-something, when she went to Mexico to learn Spanish.

“Well we studied in Mexico City, but it was in Guatelamara… Gualemata… What is it? How do you say it?”

“Guadalajara.” my mom offered.

“Yes. Guadalajara. I learned Spanish across the bar in Guadalajara.” She snickered.

“But those men… there were men that like to look at women and women that like to look at men.”

“You did have fun in Mexico, didn’t ya?” Someone jeered.

“Yes,” she laughed, “but you have to watch out for those men. They will….”

“You don’t have to tell everything you know.” Uncle J censored.

“It will cost you $10,000 to get there. And when you go ask the pilot a question, he will tell you to go ask the person in the back. The person in the back will tell you to ask someone in the middle.”

Background: Whenever we go anywhere, Zaidee always asks a countless questions to whomever she deems knowledgable on the subject matter. At a steakhouse, for example, she might ask the waiter to describe the taste of the bloomin’ onion sauce, and what spices are in it, or where the cow was raised.

“Then the person in the middle will tell you to ask the person in the back. And then you just end up taking a long walk over the ocean.” She explained.

“And it will be your last good meal.” Meaning, your last good meal will be the one you consume on the airplane ride over.

“And when you get there, you better have a strong constitution.”

“The country?” my sister asked.

“No, she’s talking about your personal constitution.” My mom explained as she motioned to her stomach.

“Well, both, is what I mean.” Zaidee clarified. “Because if the country does not have a constitution, you cannot get into it. That country next to Mexico…”

“The ocean?” a hint of sarcasm from Uncle J.

Zaidee continued, “You can’t get in on land because there’s no constitution. You have to go in the ocean.”

As the international travel topic died down, Zaidee proceeds to pick on my typically quieter cousin, who is a freshman at Baylor. “You haven’t said two words. I want to hear you say two words. Say your name.” Pretty sure this one was a sneak b/c she couldn’t remember his name.

Other notables from the day were the several references to the UFO that she claims to have seen on their Roswell ranch, the talk of her “beach front property in New Mexico,” and the mentioning of one of the many dance troupes she has been in – notably, the “Cow Belles,” or as Otto likes to say, the “Cow Bellies.”

My family got a kick out these things, so just thought you might enjoy it too.

“Only with laughter can you win.” -Rosie Thomas

Thursday, May 1, 2008

we love nola.

If you frequent LC’s facebook profile (let’s be honest, who doesn’t?!), then you probably already know that we went to New Orleans for Jazzfest last weekend. We knew going into it that we were in for a treat, but we had no idea how passionate we would become about that city.

I remember my first trip to New Orleans with fondness: it was a family vacay with mom, dad, sister, and grandparents. I loved it even as an eight-year-old. I was obsessed with the mardi gras masks and I loved the energy there. My favorite t-shirt for a good two years after was the one I got there that stated: “we be jammin’ in New Orleans!”

I visited a few more times – once in high school for a mission trip, and once in college while en route to Destin for spring break. Each time I’ve been to the city, I’ve come to appreciate more and more the culture, the art, the music, food, the people. It is one of the few cities in America where history is evident and where the original essence has been preserved.

Enter: Katrina.

I didn’t know what to expect of a post-Katrina New Orleans, and to be honest, I really hadn’t given it much thought. It was eye-opening and fascinating to see it firsthand. Throughout the weekend, we saw houses in ruins, as well as businesses come back to life. We saw debris and isolation, and we saw crowded city streets and restaurants brimming with people. I was deeply saddened by the devastation, but moved by the heart of the city that is still obviously beating. I so badly wanted to help, and I knew every penny spent on that trip was well worth it.

The amazing thing about New Orleans is, though deeply wounded, there is still a New Orleans—a city that will always alive, historic, unique, racy, rich in culture, and filled truly dedicated individuals.

We love you, Nola.

If you want to do a little something to help out NOLA, grab a t-shirt from Save NOLA.

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