Saturday, July 30, 2011


-When we took off on the plane yesterday, they guy next to me still had his ipod playing- but it was in his pocket. I couldn't tell if he was ignoring it or unaware. I seriously contemplated telling on him for a while. But I didn't.

-Is it appropriate for the person in the middle seat to straddle you while facing you- whilst maneuvering to get to their seat? (I didn't think so.)

-Don't set your coffee next to your laptop on your tiny tray table. You can't control the other passengers as they stumble towards the bathroom. You might get a lap of hot coffee.

-I bought the most expensive paperback book of fiction yesterday. I just handed it to the guy at the airport shop and then made my eyes pop out of my head when he said $17 dollars. I had already handed him my card... there was no going back. I feel like I shouldn't even open the book or dog-ear the pages.

-When I opened my suitcase this morning I realized that it doesn't matter how much deodorant you wear or how many showers you take. Camp laundry all smells nasty.

-I ate cereal for about 10 of my meals this week. I wasn't feeling camp cuisine. Still... I just had cereal for breakfast.

-I got to see my parents for about 3 hours last Saturday. I flew into Austin to speak at camp and my parents drove up from Houston just to take me to lunch. I love my parents.

-This week was exhausting, but it was the kind of exhausting that leaves you smiling and crying. I watched kids change. I watched Him change them.

-I just spellchecked this post and had spelled deodorant and cuisine incorectly. (Anyone else not surprised by that?)

-I need to go take clothes out of the dryer.

-I also need to be more exciting. But... today is not that day.


Thursday, July 21, 2011

HORROR: Sad/Lonely Microwave Dinners

You know what is really, really sad? Seeing a character in a TV or a movie eating A MICROWAVE DINNER! ALONE. Those poor, poor people. They probably don’t have any friends, and if it’s a woman, then SHE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A BOYFRIEND, Y'ALL!

It’s a trick they used on Lost during one of John Locke’s flashbacks.

"Locke is depressed. We know this because he is eating alone in a darkened one-room apartment IN FRONT OF THE TELEVISION. What could drive a man to such extremes? Obviously he is seconds away from doing himself in."
(Television Without Pity on "Lost," The Man from Tallahassee)

It was even more effectively used on Alias to show how lonely Sydney is.

"After the commercial, we join Syd and her dinner: a beer and a microwaved plate of pasta...and more pasta.... Like, is this supposed to indicate just how sad Syd is without Vaughn? She's so sad that she's reduced to eating big plates of microwaved pasta of which Dr. Atkins would not approve?"
(TWoP on "Alias," After Six)

sad lonely tv dinnerSad but oh so true.

While I was Googling a few things on this topic, I came across a stock image titled “A lonely man praying over a TV dinner at Christmas.” And I don’t really know what’s wrong with me, but that has got to be the FUNNIEST sentence I have ever read in the history of ever. Here’s the picture.

(And now I can't stop laughing.)

Can we all just agree that microwaveable meals are not, in fact, a sign that someone is horribly depressed, lonely and pining for true love, or about to jump off a bridge? I mean really. Sometimes (read: ALL OF THE TIME ALWAYS AND FOREVER PLEASE AND THANK YOU) a frozen dinner is just a frozen dinner. Y'all, it's just practical! Also: cheap. It's easy to make, easy to eat, and you quickly can get back to your regularly scheduled program of watching "Friday Night Lights" or reading Entertainment Weekly or maybe even writing a blog entry.

That, or crying alone in the dark.

In closing:

"Bless this highly nutritious microwavable macaroni and cheese dinner and the people who sold it on sale. Amen." –Kevin McAllister

Wednesday, July 13, 2011


Val and I have a brother. His name is Clay. He will never ever read this unless someone pulls it up on a computer and marches him over and makes him sit down in front of it. That's ok.

Today Clay turns 23. I remember when he was small enough for me to pick up when my mom turned her back.

I remember when he was finally old enough to attend the camp where I worked. I beamed with pride, even when he threw up during a skit.

And now he's taller than me, finishing up school, and making us all laugh.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! We love you Clayboy. :)

Friday, July 8, 2011

Brownies and Bumper Stickers

Things That Happened July 4th Weekend

  • Made brownies with olive oil when there was no vegetable oil to be found.*

  • Sat (and napped) on the beach for hours and hours. (And hours.) (AND HOURS.)

  • Helped launch a water balloon 100 feet to make contact with a jet ski and scare the living fireworks out of the two kids driving it.

  • Had to get a jump at a Shell station so I could drive to a Walmart 6 miles away to meet my Dad who helped me buy and install (okay, HE installed) a new battery in the blazing heat.

  • Spent the evening of the 4th watching the Power Rangers movie. Hey, there are fireworks in that cinematic masterpiece!
Bumper Sticker

Passed a car yesterday with a bright pink bumper sticker prominently affixed to the rear windshield. It read: "Pray for Mr. O / Psalm 109:8"

What does Psalm 109:8 say, you ask?

"Let his days be few; And let another take his office."


A G-Chat Conversation

Me: i have so much power
Kyle: you do edit the internet
Me: it's true
Me: the internet is my domain
Me: pun most DEFINITELY intended.
Kyle: i wouldn't expect anything less


My apartment mailbox is on the bottom row of boxes, and I have to bend down to look inside. Sometimes I just reach a hand inside to grab the mail without looking. What frequently happens, and what happened last night, is that I reach in optimistically, hoping to make contact with paper. Instead, my fingers just scrape the metal bottom of the box, and I am ruined.**


In the book I am currently reading, they have a party where everyone dresses up in costumes inspired by a TV show. Of course my mind starting wandering, and I couldn't help but imagine a "Gilmore Girls" costume party: someone in a Chilton uniform or a flannel shirt/baseball cap of course, but also maybe dressed as a pilgrim, Donna Reed, someone from "Pulp Fiction," a giant hot dog, a painting, a revolutionary war soldier, or Edgar Allan Poe. OR switch it up and wear a purple jogging suit, a metallica t-shirt, a Renaissance dress, or, my personal favorite, a pink T-shirt, jean cut-offs, cowboy boots, and a ponytail.

10 points and my eternal, undying respect if you got all of those references.

*No brownies were harmed in the making of these brownies.
**No I'm not; I'm just dramatic.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Creative to the Tivity.

I've been told that I'm creative.

I'm certainly not mathematical or precise.

I don't know how much originality I posses. I think I'm most creative at costume parties. I can rock a good homemade costume.

My sister and I used to perform for my mom and dad - sometimes dancing in dresses, oftentimes twirling, sometimes performing in endless skits.

For years my cousins and I would perform the Nativity story for all of the adults. I usually got to be Mary.

I loved pretending... playing house, library, grocery store, the Oregon trail. I loved creating stories.

You know what I think? I think that because make-believe and pretend were relegated to the playground, that a good chunk of creativity left me at 5th grade. All of that energy is still sitting in a field in Plano, Texas.

Also, my last creative writing class was in 6th grade. I haven't written fiction since then. I take that back. I haven't written and GOOD fiction since then. I struggled terribly in my play writing class during college. But improv? Throw me on a stage and give me a topic and I can keep going for days. I can talk.

I think I'm more comfortable on stage simply because I started in kindergarten and haven't stopped yet. Maybe if I'd continued writing creatively after 6th grade I might be working on a novel right now. I might feel comfortable with fiction.

I don't craft or sew or knit or refinish furniture. I don't paint or have a craft room. I don't know that I will ever have a beautiful garden or sew reusable diapers. I probably won't make my own camera bag.

But I'm okay with that.

Because YOU do enough for me. Just send me the link to your etsy account and I will do my best to creatively support you that way. Go. Fight. Create. :)