Thursdays

I love them. I love them because they give me hope that Friday is right around the corner. Thursdays remind me that I can stay up late because I only have one more day of work ahead so if I go to bed at an ungodly hour I can recoup on my missed sleep Saturday morning. So, that's what I'm doing right now...enjoying my Thursday evening.

Mondays for me are sad and depressing because they remind me of work and how pitiful I feel when I am preparing myself to go there (it's a good thing nobody I work with reads this that I know of because they might think I don't like my job...not that you're supposed to sing and dance every time you go to work, but some people actually claim to love their jobs...it's just that I'm not one of them). Work is either really bland or really busy. Like this Monday when I practically pulled my hair out and almost broke the vow I made to not search for jobs on my work computer. Depending on the weather Mondays can end well because they give me light that Tuesday is at the end of the day's tunnel. LOL.

I have my whole weekly routine worked out you see. Tuesdays are the meaningless days. Who needs a a Tuesday? What purpose does it serve? It's right in between two days that actually have some sort of meaning. But I guess you can't have those two days without the one in between. Tuesdays are a little annoying to me. I try to pass them by with a glass of wine at night preceding one of my favorite TV shows, glee. Most of the time I don't get to watch it live though because at this current state in my life I'm studying on Tuesday nights.

We all know Wednesdays are hump days. I think that's enough said. It's the day where people get to hear themselves say an over-used phrase EVERY week to make themselves feel better that they're almost, not quite, but almost there. Wednesdays can be a little akward because it's not like you can stay up late or do anything outlandish as there are still two more days left in the week. BLAH!

Thursdays are the best days by far, of all. (Fridays are really the best, but speaking in terms of the feelings on essential week days that have no relevance to the weekend, I'd have to say I almost get more excited about this day than Friday). I hate myself when I wake up on Friday mornings, though, because I've stayed up too late. But I usually don't care because I only have one more day to go and if anything happens at work on Friday that I don't feel like dealing with, I can deal with it Monday! Of course I hate myself again on Monday, which repeats the cycle, but you get the drift. I wish every day was Thursday.

Fridays are of course the best day of all. No one's really focusing at work and people are extending their conversations at the water coolers, etc. But one thing I find funny (I was going to say particularly at my own office, but I don't think that's the case so I'll say particularly in my own life) is that I'm either all decked out or wearing something that adds no accentuation to my weekly wardrobe repertoire. Either I'm ready to get my weekend on or I'm ready to chill and do absolutely nothing. There are some weeks where I feel in-between about my weekend prelude feelings, but I'm usually in one mood or the other.

Before long, the weekend's over and the viscious rotation starts again. Hrumph!

Teach me, O' Lord.

I'm wondering how to not talk about people at work.

Every day I ride in my car on my way in and I pray the same prayer, "Lord, please help me not to gossip and keep my thoughts to myself. Please help me not to talk about anyone and keep my comments inside. Help me resist the temptation to not do it." And eevvrry day, I do it. I talk about people. I'm aware of what I'm doing and sometimes I do stop myself, even if for a brief moment, to not say one big, grandios, thing I was going to say. But I'm wondering, how do I totally and fully commit myself to doing this every day?

One of my friend's from Huthwaite used to do this so seemingly easily. She never talked about people, and when she did, it was always relayed with emotion that lead you to know that she didn't want her name labeled on anything bad. Why can't I be more like that? For some reason, I have an extremely hard time NOT divulging information, especially when it's something good and when it's something that will make me feel good when I say it. I regretfully admit it.

But we all know those thoughts and feelings and words are fleeting. So fleeting that the moment they're uttered out of my mouth, I regret them and am convicted. There is no good, ever, that comes of talking about anyone or anything that is not of Him. I am no saint and will never be, by far. But I have to keep trying, keep pressing in, to do better and to try harder.

God loves the sinners and he loves the strugglers. Why can't I, too, uncover the relentless will of the hurting man and relate to the depth of what lies in his heart rather than strike his soul with another hurtful word? In the midst of my pain and stress and despair of my mundane routines I hunger for an outlet of my outright verbose and gregarious explosions. But rather than release them to another hurting soul, I should rather release them to the Spirit who will make me whole again.

Teach me, O' Lord.

Birthday Weekend Extravaganza

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Target, you ain't all that.

Yesterday I had some down time at work so I went to Target during my lunch hour. It didn't last long because right when I got back I was hit with a monsoon full of new projects.

I went shopping specifically for blow pops for Mariah's birthday party tonight and while I was at it, I had in mind that I was going to spend the hour leisurely looking for this or that or the other thing that I didn't specifically have in mind--like cute house decor that I don't need. I was also going to look for CD's or cheap TV Series on DVD to add to my collection. To my finding, nothing of significance was had. It's probably a good thing because I didn't need to spend the extra money anyway.

I finally made my pit stop to the candy aisle and was overwhelmed with choices I didn't know existed: blow pop gum, blow pop tootsies, blow pop gum minis, blow pop tootsie minis, jolly ranch pops. A whole end cap full of blow pops just for me. And that was just for the blow pops. There were two other aisles full of candy: kit kats, snickers, almond joys, dots. You name it. And they were $9 for each bag. YOWSA!

As I perused through the rest of the "Halloween" section I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen so much paraphernalia for one holiday. We haven't truly had one since July 4th. And even that day isn't quite as played up as the rest of the major ones. I couldn't come up with all the unnecessary items stores sell nowadays for a major holiday even if I tried. Of course, I left with a light-up pumpkin. What can I say? Target knows how to work it.

I made my way down the wine aisle and it was then I started realizing that Target has made a name for itself for a reason. I mean they reeaallly know how to do it up. And I don't think it's their product, per se, either. I don't think their merchandise is any better than that of Wal-mart, to tell you the truth. Frankly, I can't find most of what I'm ever looking for in Target half the time anyway. I think what Target does is illuminate their products so they're more catching to the eye. They make things sparkle and shine and capture your eye drawing you in to make you think you will not survive without them. I mean, with names for wine like Katie & Cassie's Sauvignon Blanc and The Middle Sister's Pinot Grigio, who wouldn't want to buy it even if it tasted bad? It's the presentation.

Things look better in Target because Target often choses to use a pink background with polka dots on the backdrop of a line of dishes, for example, instead of a plain blue one like you tend to see in Wal-mart. And therefore, it sells better and prompts more people to buy it. For some odd reason our (or at least mine) brain tells us that because the pink polka-dotted background is there it's going to make us feel happier when we use the dishes. Or, if it was a beach backdrop, it might make us think that if we use these dishes at home we'll feel like we're at the beach too, because that's what the store says. It's all a part of that marketing strategy.

So yeah, Target might make me feel good, and things in the store might look pretty and good, but I don't really ever find anything good. And the things I do find are sort of over priced, in my opinion. I could just as well find a better, sturdier, cuter mirror at Marshall's for half the price.

12:17am - Still Awake

Here it is 12:17am and I'm still awake - barely though. I don't feel like sleeping just yet, but I'm extremely exhausted. How I can manage to keep my ojos open when my body cries out for sleep is beyond me.

I just finished dying my hair a bit ago. The color is called "Lightest Auburn." It certainly doesn't look like light auburn. I don't know what it looks like...maybe a puke-ish red? I say puke-ish but I don't really mind it. Maybe if it was just a little lighter...

We went over to some new friend's house for dinner tonight who lead the Bible Study we started going to last Wednesday. They are the sweetest people. The guy who leads it reminds me exactly of Steve Dawson. In fact, we all three thought it (me, Carrie, and Isaac), but Carrie's the one who said it. Unspoken revelation. Weird.

We played Catch Phrase after dinner. My first time ever playing it. It was fun.

The couple had made lasagna and fish - fish that he had caught himself and battered for us. It was yum.

The meal ended with a HUGE hunk of chocolate cake that landed on a plate in front of me. I thought I was going to eat it all - and the truth is - I probably could have, but I didn't. I ended up feeling nauseus about 20 bites in. LOL. Now all of the sudden I am starving. Go figure. It's probably because it's about almost morning and about that time for Isaac to get up from work. No, not exactly. But it might as well be. It feels like noon o'clock when I get up compared to him. He is literally at work for a half an hour before I even lift my head from the pillow. This morning I woke up and thought I had been in a cave for 5 years: my disorientation had gotten the best of me when I woke up not remembering what day it was. Do you ever do that? Boy, it's weird.

Anyway, I better go before my sleep coma knocks my finger on the publish button in mid-sentence. Good night.

Skins Game. 30-27. Houston.

 

 

 

My boy, Rex.

McNabb.

 

 

Dreads.

The Patterns that Break Me, Shape Me.

I often get tired of the mundane rat race Northern Virginia brings: the traffic, the buses, the trains, planes, metros, fast-paced people walking across the street in heels while juggling eight bags and trying to text at the same time. I don't understand it. WHY does someone feel it's necessary to send a text message while crossing a main intersection in 5 inch stilletos with not even a glance upward to check for cars? Stupidity, I tell you. Stupidity. I have to tell you, though, I've done that once or twice myself. I guess that makes me stupid, too.

Traffic is everywhere: 28, 29, 66, 95. You name it. There is no room to breathe along these highways and even if we leave at 5am to "beat" the traffic, there will still be an accident or construction or a road being paved. It does little good to try work around the masses because the masses are everywhere, all day, every day. We left the beach on a Sunday at noon last month thinking that we would be home free. Home free we weren't, until about six o' clock that night. It only took us about four hours to get there on our trip down. What gives? Unpredictability. On top of that, Google Maps calculated it would only take a bout three and half hours. There is NO WAY AROUND IT.

The lines at the grocery store are ridiculous around this area, too. Unless you shop at 3am, which I don't plan on doing at any point, you're hit with seven or more people long in front of you at each line. Specifically Shopper's. Of course, no corporation wants to open up a new line and PAY someone to ring your food when you can ring it up yourself. But forget about the fact that I'll be holding up nine people behind me while frantically trying to hold on to my bananas and panicking to find the right code for them on the machine (which, by the way, is also yelling at me to put my tampons in the bag because the sensor couldn't tell I already scanned them). "Customer needs help on Line 2. Help...on Line 2 please." Now, half of Shopper's is looking at me with the lights blinking while I'm trying to hold on to my bananas and figure out what I did wrong on the debit card machine! CAN YOU JUST SCHEDULE AN EXTRA PERSON to ring so I don't have to go through this mortification anymore? PLEASE?!?!

Ohhhh the things we do to get by in this life. CVS is also a nightmare, especially trying to pick up prescriptions. Half of Manassas is there at any given time of day picking up pills and complaining that they had to wait too long. And also complaining that they "would prefer to get health care in Canada." Well move there. GO!!

We rush to make our toast in the morning before work while jotting down more stuff on our to-do list, all the while quickly over-feeding the cat with a heaping bowl full of X's and O's because we're trying to pour our coffee at the same time. We get tired of the stop -- go -- stop -- go, mundane pattern of our foot on the brake on the trip in and listening to Lisa Baden try to be funny on WTOP. It gets to be ENOUGH!

But strangely enough those same things often comfort me. The words Woodrow Wilson Bridge and Anacostia Freeway, Outer Loop, Inner Loop, and Nutley St. make me feel right at home. Even the dials on my radio give me comfort. I know that the PER crew will be there for me in the morning and the Junkies (EB, Cakes) and Mike and Mike will always have something new to say. And even though Lisa Baden's voice gets on my nerves I still can't help but know that if ever I moved from this area, I'd miss her.

I guess living "up" here in all this madness makes the madness more bearable when the same radio friends, local coffee brew joints, and names of daily driven roads are all around. They at least bring me familiarity and comfort to the scene of this fast-paced life that is. I sometimes now look forward to the long, rainy, and congested drives to Regal Ballston Common 12 on Friday nights because after that draining, burdensome, and stressful week at work I can spend the extra time talking to Isaac on the way there, thinking about the great time we're about to have in the bustle of the city with our dear friends (and what kind of blog I'm going to write about it later ;)). Or, I can kick back my head and rest it on the comfort of my Honda headrest while I decompress to the busy sounds of horns blowing and the scene of washed out brake lights ahead.

As I grow older, I grow accustomed to my surroundings as they've become my home, my comfort zone, my niche. And the patterns that sometimes break me, shape me.

The Birth of Jesus Foretold

In the sixth month, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendent of David. The virgin's name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, "Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you."

Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end."

"How will this be," Mary asked the angel, "since I am a virgin?"

The angel answered, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be barren is in her sixth month. For nothing is impossible with God."

"I am the Lord's servant," Mary answered. "May it be to me as you have said." Then the angel left her.

-Luke, Chapter 1

Labor Day Weekend

This Labor Day friends and family abound. Could we ask for anything more?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chillin'

Not much on my mind tonight...just thinking about all the things I need and want to read and how I have got to catch up on my magazines. I have three sitting on my countertop right now: Health, InStyle, and Restoration Hardware--all with crisp, fresh pages to turn, unwrinkled. My school work readings alone are enough to bear and so my readings for pleasure and all else tend to take a back seat.

Carrie's in the next room zonked out on the pullout and Isaac's in our room. He fell asleep at 8:30 after one glass of cabernet. The usual.

I've got Titanic on, which I'm not really watching--trying to motivate myself to get up and brush my teeth to get all the popcorn kernels out of my mouth. My fingers are greasy from the butter residue, too, which annoys me when I'm trying to type.

Today was a gorgeous day, wasn't it? It really felt like a touch of fall had swept the air. I have to say that this is the first year in a loooong time that I remember seasons actually feeling like seasons. Winter was brutal - major snowfalls trapping us inside for days and freezing winds chilling us to the bone. Spring was breathaking as usual and soothingly led us into summer, which was hot as ever. I can't remember the last time we had a HOT summer. I mean this summer was brutal. But that is what summer is to me: hot-sweaty-sticky. There were plenty of days for pooling-it and several for shorts-wearing, which I never do. And now, fall is on it's way and has started with just the first week of September it seems. Soon enough, pumpkins and hay will fill our doorsteps (at least my sister's) and scarecrow flags will adorn our mailbox stands. Kids will be back in school and thick sweaters will cover our shoulders. The mint mochas and gingerbread lattes will be back on the Starbucks menus and the leaves will begin turning orange.

I'm not quite ready to say bye to summer yet, though. I already miss the OBX trip and the 4th of July and Isaac's birthday party and the sangrias swooshing around in my glass. There is truly something about this summer that has been better than the rest -- I can't totally lay my finger on it. Maybe it's because I don't have a long commute anymore or I've been cooking more or reading more or relaxing more. Either way, it's fine by me.

Just got a ring on our doorbell from our neighbors telling us we (let's rephrase - I) had parked in the wrong spot. Woooops. At least I got to chat for a few seconds - they're nice!

See you all next time.

Sad Nostalgia

For some reason, today a clip of nostalgia ran through my brain about a friend from Huthwaite who died while I was working there. She was so young - 28 to be exact. She had everything going for her: a great job, a great husband, a fabulous vintage condo in Chicago (which I visited on one of my business trips), a stellar athletic figure, and a sweet spirit--the sweet spirit being on the top of her charts. I remember wanting to be more like her. She was so humble and pure. She rarely talked about anyone, and when she did it was done tactfully with little focus on frustration vents and more on a genuine approach to strategic process improvement.

I am thinking about her today and the way her presence on earth made an impact on my life, and others who surrounded her.

She died in July of 2006 in a head on car crash incident when a drunk driver collided into her as he was driving on the wrong side of the highway.

I remember going to work that day and not being able to wait to get all the projects off my plate that I'd be transitioning to her. I was excited to talk to her and excited she had decided to come back to Huthwaite, after she left earlier that year. Sounds a little bit like me (unfortunately). She and I were going to have a long conversation that day to go over the Bank of America account and the Ernst & Young account and Greg's spreadsheet and what needed to be updated and when, etc. Little did I know, her parents were planning her funeral while I was planning my relief of stressful responsiblities I had been longing to get off my plate for that long week of her absence on vacation.

I can't even begin to tell you how awful that day was. When I walked into the office and someone told me the news it was like my mind had shifted into a black hole where an abyss of unanswered questions would brew for hours. "Why did God have to take her? Why now? What did she do to deserve this? How come it wasn't me? Why didn't her sister or the dog who were in the car die too? How am I going to get along, or cope, or be able to function?"

The president met with us that morning and told us we could have the day off. I remember as he spoke I burst into tears in front of the entire group -- my heart, shattered from the events. My colleague Mark and I stayed in the conference room for another 1/2 hour or so just staring into space, and at the wall, not even sure how to process what we had just learned.

After we figured out how to nudge our limbs into movement, the majority of us spent the morning at Starbucks talking and trying to cheer each other up because we were too devastated to concentrate. My email box was filled with her name all over it, "When is Shanna coming back? When Shanna returns, she'll be able to handle that for you. Shanna will be your new point of contact," etc...

I could barely breathe. I was heartbroken and torn and confused and all I could think about was Shanna's sweet freckles that surrounded her bright face and bobbed-cut hairdo--a single charm and light hanging on a dark and toxic mess of a corporation.

Some things we will never understand and never know why God chooses to do them. I leave you with a simple quote that is designed into the plaque we created for her:

Some people, sweet and attractive, and strong and healthy, happen to die young. They are masters in disguise teaching us about impermanence.
-The Dalai Lama

Summer in a Nutshell

2 trips to Marterella Winery. 1 hike up Skyline Drive. 1 Vino Night w/the gals. 1 Power Surge at MAG. 1 viewing of Sex and the City2. 1 Wedding. 1 5th grade graduation. 1 Father's Day cookout. 1 visit from Isaac's dad. 1 visit from Isaac's mom. 1 Police Academy Graduation. 1 Birthday party for Isaac on the 4th of July. 1 July 4th celebration on Isaac's birthday. 1 brief moment of fireworks watching with the fam. First massage for Isaac. EVER. 1 visit from a college friend. 1 7-year wedding anniversary with my husband. 1 Wedding. 1 lunch and pool date with Gramie and the grandkids at the pool. 1 exxagerated attempt at becoming a cheerleading coach. 1 concert on the Wolf Trap lawn. 1 week of vacation in Nags Head. 1 wedding reception. 1 yardsale. And a few trips to the pool.

Let fall begin!!