Monday, September 29, 2008
I've definitely never trained to go on vacation. I've never started running to prepare for a week long journey. I've never cut caffeine and any other beverage but water out of my diet before.
Maybe I've never really been on vacation before. Maybe this is what vacation is all about.
In my head, I'm kind of, not really, but really, pretending like I'm preparing to go on the Real World/ Road Rules Challenge.
It keeps me motivated.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
lessons in humility.
I could think of a million things to say when I talk about the day my father called me on my cellular phone and told me to meet him, "at Farm Bureau Insurance, over by Staples." After inquiring why, he had told me that he found a car for me.
This phone call came after a month or so of scouring little Russellville, Arkansas for a small SUV. Reggie had all but convinced me that he was going to buy me a two-door Explorer Sport or Blazer. I just knew I'd start my junior year of high school in style.
Instead, I turned the corner to meet ole Reg and saw it. The brightest, bright red little Corolla you've ever seen...even better, it had a huge FOR SALE sign on it. My lucky day.
I drove that little machine for two and a half years. My friends used to steal my hubcaps for fun. One weekend, I went to Bentonville and parked it on my friend's street. Someone threw a pumpkin at it and broke the antenna off. I got in a wreck once. Reggie fixed the bumper with duct tape. True statement. Manual doors. Manual windows. Tape deck. It was a fine piece of equipment.
When I first started driving it I was completely embarrassed, when I took it to college, I was even more embarrassed, but really, honestly, driving that car taught me that people will be your friends no matter what kind of car you have. Especially if you can stuff 16 people into it and drive it in the homecoming parade.
That car taught me more about humility and character than anything else in my life ever could. I will never drive a Lexus or a Range Rover, simply because of that little red Corolla...and I work for a non-profit and can't afford one.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
my heart hurts.
I have been attending Razorback sporting events since I was in the womb. When I learned to walk, Reggie drug me from Pulaski Heights United Methodist church down a street named after a president, across Markham and into War Memorial Stadium, where our seats usually bordered the visiting section. When I was old enough to dress myself I started wearing opposing teams colors. When I learned to talk, I'd yell for the other team. This carried on for many years. Many years. Probably until I was 17 or so and realized I had no other option for my higher education than the institution I had been mocking for so many years, the University of Arkansas.
I never thought my actions as a young child would come back to haunt me, but they have. We lose and we lose bad. Our band performs a minor miracle at half-time and half of the fans leave. What has Razorback football come to? Am I being mocked? Does Jesus hate the Razorbacks? I can't answer any of those questions, but I can look forward to the future and hopefully, as always, the Mississippi State Game.
Until then, I will gloat on our 1964 National Championship, Darren McFadden, Felix Jones and the monstrosity that is the Jumbotron.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
two wrongs make a mullet.
Time in MS meant time with my brother and three other cousins who were our age and trips to the pasture with my Papa Saul to look at the cows (he took us there individually to introduce each of us to the bull he named after us, turns out, it was the same bull and we each thought he was ours).
When someone like that is close to your family, you typically value their opinion. But, why in the world would my mother and grandmother let her do that to my hair? WHY, GOD, WHY?! Surely, she didn't say, "ok, I have an idea. Don't look." No, this had to be discussed.
Maybe they were trying to repress my four-year-old-over-the-top personality. Maybe they wanted me to know pain at a young age. Maybe they thought I was too pretty and was making the other girls at Mother's Day Out jealous. Maybe they were trying to start a trend.
I'll never know.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
- Hike from Laguna Quilotoa to Chugchilan (5 hours), passing through the indigenous valley of Guayama and crossing the Rio Sihui Canyon, a tributary to the Rio Toachi. Yes, we are hiking from one destination to the next.
- The bike adventure on the world’s highest active volcano begins. Bike on dirt roads through volcanic ash and páramo landscape to Inca ruin at 3.700 m Packed lunch while keeping an eye towards the sky - you might see a condor! In the afternoon bike on dirt roads and single track down from Lake Limpiopungo through pine forest. Ok, this is biking DOWN a mountain, but still...the difficulty is moderate and the altitude is intense and honestly, the thing that worries me the most is the packed lunch...what do Dutch-Ecuadorians pack in a lunch? I don't want to find out.
- Catch the bus to Zumbahua at Latacunga’s terminal ( 2 hours). Short walk in to Zumbahua, hire a truck to take us to Laguna Quilotoa ( 45 minutes). Short walk in? Hire a truck? Is that like hiring a truck to take me to Fort Worth, but they drop me off in Arlington?
Monday, September 15, 2008
morgan. morghan. morghanne.
Or I could start with her gracious heart. She is the most giving person I know.
Or I could start with her sense of humor. She's just plain funny.
Or I could start with her encouragement and what it means to this blog. Trust me, it wouldn't exist if she didn't tell me she reads it.
Or I could start with her ability to simply live with me. Lots of gold stars on that one. She co-exists in the same living environment as me. We won't mention that we are rarely on the same schedule, but still...she does it.
No matter what I start with, I am thankful for her. And the fact that I can always find her scissors and tape, because mine are always missing.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Thursday, September 4, 2008
looking into the future.
I am pretty positive that I could turn out to be just like Palin in 20 years. Why?
- Palin was a high school basketball star. I thought I was a high school basketball star and I once hurt my ankle playing, just like her!
- Palin has five kids. I love the Brady Bunch!
- She is the definition of middle class America. That's where I grew up, too!
- She looks just like Tina Fey. Every night before bed I pray that Jesus will make more and more like Tina Fey.
- She has a Journalism degree. Me too! And Reggie didn't think a Journalism degree could get you anywhere!
- She drives herself to work everyday. Me too! The similarities are getting eerie!
- She was a member of the PTA. I started a chapter of the PTA at the University of Arkansas and at K-2. I have the sweaters and vests to prove it.
- She has a I don't take no shit attitude. Duh.
If Sarah Palin was going into battle today, I'd follow her at least half-way (I'm more of a lover than a fighter). If Sarah Palin wanted to get a $400 haircut (like many politicians get in trouble for), I'd pay for it. If Sarah Palin called me and asked me to be her protege, I'd do it without even consulting my most trusted advisors.
If Sarah Palin wants to be Vice President, I'm voting for her.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
I mean, when does it come time to let go of old school beliefs and start seeing things for yourself and for your current situation? When do we strip our parents thought formations and form our own?
As much as I love discussing and learning about politics it becomes a slap in the face every time it's brought up in conversation because people cannot see past red or blue. Why must a person be red or blue? Why not a little red, a little blue, making a very pretty purple.
I say, let's be set in the ways of Jesus and quit walking so gingerly along party lines. Fight for issues and causes and beliefs, not red or blue.
I know a lot (and by that I mean, three, possibly six) of people who read this are going to think, "LC! You *&^%$ don't talk about me on your blog!" And to them I say, "Listen here, dawg, I'm not talking about you."
And then, a few more (and by that I mean, two, maybe, three) people will say, "Freakin' LC, you're such a Democrat." And to them I say, "I am not."
* Don't kill babies. Don't tax me until I'm poor. Don't take my tax dollars and pay for people to live without working. Let me choose my own healthcare. Everyone should be able to get healthcare. Everyone should have public education. Take care of those who need to be taken care of ie; veterans. Drill for oil in Alaska. Screw going green. The death penalty isn't all that bad. Marijuana should continue to be illegal. Women should be able to hold some power in this country.
* Those are most of my political beliefs. If you can decipher that and tell me if I'm red of blue, I'll go with it.