Post A versus Post B

Initially, I was going to post today about the horrendous construction that is going on seemingly everywhere I drive. It would have been full of whining and some funny comments, but I changed my mind. When I started in on my lunch today, I saw a note that my husband wrote last night and stuck in my lunch. So, on to Blog Post B

Occasionally, my husband will write notes for me and stick them in my lunch for me to find mid-day and lift my spirits. It gets him major points.

Today, he included a "song" that was derived from the Snickers commercial that is playing these days and cracks me up: "Happy peanuts soar over chocolate-covered mountaintops and waterfalls of caramel. Prancing nougat in the meadow sings a song of satisfaction to the world... (the world)."

Okay, so maybe I'm the only one who thinks it's funny. But I'll spare you my husband's rendition and just say that his end line was "That your lifelong satisfaction is our love... (not your job)."

Huh. Sometimes I get so caught up in the things of this world (my job, my house, my car, groceries for dinner, clothes, etc.) that I forget that our satisfaction in this world is actually not of this world. My husband and I love each other because Christ first loved us. There is no love in this world that doesn't come from God. So when my satisfaction comes from loving my husband and receiving his love in return, we are being Christians in the truest sense.

Just a little light thinking for your lunchtime.

Force Field

Today I visited an author's blog. Margaret's link is on my page now. She has some really interesting discussion topics (wow, that sounds very bland - but it's not!). Today she had me thinking about force fields.

Margaret refers to a person's force field as a vibe they give off that warns people how close they can get. So, if I have a force field of one, perfect strangers seem to feel it's okay to hug me. Whereas if I have a force field of ten, no one approaches me unless they are clearly admitted.

As I walked to a meeting carrying my laptop, I felt a soft hum coming from the machine as it sat in slumber mode. I thought about the frequencies that certain things give off. Do I generate a frequency into this vast universe? If so, what kind of frequency am I emitting? How far does it travel? Does it change with my attitude, with the seasons, with my length of hair? :-)

Then I start thinking about my spirit. Some people just radiate their spirit - good or bad. We all pick up on it. Does our spirit have a frequency?

Used to my face

This phenomenon amazes me. I can look at myself in the mirror every single day. And yet, when I look at pictures of myself, I think Who is that chick? Same thing with my voice. I hear myself in my head every day. But when I hear a recording of myself, it sounds nothing like me. I get so used to seeing my own perspective that I don't know if I really know what I look like.

Is there something about us that makes it impossible to truly see ourselves? Sometimes I put a specific outfit on and I think I look like a big fat blob. But my husband sees me and thinks I look just fine.

What glasses tint our perception? What do God's glasses look like? Is he the only one who truly sees me?

Bed

My mornings revolve around routine. If I somehow miss a step, my day is immediately thrown out of whack. The alarm goes off at 6:09, giving me exactly three hits on the 7 minute snooze bar before I get up at 6:30. Then in (fairly) rapid succession, I shower, deoderize, moisturize, dress, mousse, and go.

At approximately 6:55, I lean over and kiss my husband, leave the bedroom and go to make my breakfast, grab my stuff and head out the door by 7:05.

This morning, I made a mistake. At 6:55, I did not lean. I climbed into the bed to give my husband his kiss goodbye.

And ever since, I've been missing that bed.

8 hours, 37 minutes

After work today, I am getting in an SUV with 4 of my good friends to head up north for a fantabulous Girls Weekend. I am really excited.

8 hours, 36 minutes

Three of us went up north last year - except we went in October, which was freezing. Michigan in August can actually be some of the best weather in the world (in my humble opinion).

8 hours, 35 minutes

I love my husband dearly. And I have to admit, I almost shed a tear when I left this morning. I can talk to him about anything and everything. He truly is my best friend. But sometimes you need a good old-fashioned Girls Weekend.

8 hours, 34 minutes

So I'll try to get some good work done today, in the midst of Friday treat time, a handful of meetings and an email or two from an equally excited friend.

8 hours, 33 minutes

But honestly, my head is probably already in that SUV, heading for a great time.

8 hours, 32 minutes...

How old am I?

I am a 23 year-old trapped in the body of a 50 year-old. This morning I got up and stretched. As my spine rolled around a bit, I noticed that I had a bit of a pain in a muscle on the right side of my back. Must have just slept wrong.

But this afternoon, the pain is still there. I haven't bounced back, I haven't worked it out. I feel like a dork going into my friend's office saying, "Oh, I'm fine. I just have this ache in my back that doesn't seem to go away." I feel as though I should add to that statement, "My arthritis is getting better, though, and my doctor says that the calcium I'm taking should help prevent osteoporosis a bit."

Geesh! My head and heart are willing, but sometimes my body just isn't able. It makes me a bit nervous, because I know that as I age, my balance will start to deteriorate along with my bones, my eyes and my muscles will become even weaker.

Forgive my doomsday prophecies, but sometimes I really wish that God had redesigned these earthly vessels a bit. Maybe made them as forgiving as he is.

Okay, so three days into my "I'm going to post every day" resolution and I already missed a day. I just had a crazy hectic day, and I didn't bring my computer home with me, so I had no opportunity at home to post. So maybe I'll do two posts today and make up for it.

Last night, I went for a run. I really didn't want to. In fact, I wanted to curl up in bed and watch mindless tv for an hour before falling into a mindless slumber. But I got up, laced my shoes, and headed out.

We live in a condo that faces a pond. The pond is about .3 miles around. Last week Monday, I ran three laps (yes, pitiful, I know). Wednesday I ran 4. Last night I ran 5. So I'm proud and I'm happy.

As a reward, I helped myself to some ice cream after. :-)

Friends

I am a huge Friends fanatic. I have all 10 seasons on DVD (thanks to many friends and family members who feed my habit through birthday and Christmas gifts). And I often quote the tv show and/or share funny scenes. Today, I would like to share with you this gem from the character Rachel:

"Who the hell is FICA and why does he get all my money?"

Now, don't get me wrong, I fully understand the need for a national and state government. And I understand that taxes help our way of living. They allow us to go to school, they allow us to drive on roads, etc. But seriously!

Wouldn't it be great if we lived in a world where we got to choose where our taxes went? We could sit in a booth and say, "Okay, I have to give $XX this month to taxes. I want 5% to go to the environmental agencies, 15% to go to healthcare, etc. etc. Because honestly, I really don't care if NASA sends a $6 billion dollar piece of equipment to Mars only to leave it there because a gear broke.

I'd much rather take my $1.50 of taxes that went to that project and buy myself a coke.

A New Thing

I usually post when something strikes my fancy. But now, I will start a new thing. I will (try to) write every day. Then hopefully, writing will become a "habit." Something that will come naturally to me every day, like eating or showering.

So there you go. Hold me accountable, please.

Thank you.

Easily Placated

I hate the dentist. Everything about it makes my toes curl. Even the mention of this dreaded place makes me think of the sound of the evil drill and the smell of hot tooth enamel being ground out of my head. Ah! I need to stop, I'm giving myself the creeps.

When I sit in the chair, my toes point, my hands clasp, my neck pulls back like a turtle trying to go back in its shell. Everything about me is tense. I'm amazed that I survive the visit.

But at the end of the cleaning, the dental hygenist gets a plastic bag out and asks, "What color toothbrush would you like? Pink, blue, green, grey? What flavor of floss? Plain, mint, cinnamon, raspberry?" and "Would you like one of these flosser things?"

Pink, cinnamon and yes, please!

I scurry out to my car, not noticing the dull ache that has started in my jaws because guess what? I got free crap! Literally, I sit in my car in the parking lot and paw through my stuff, marveling at the travel size toothpaste, the pink toothbrush and the matching pink flosser. Woo hoo! It's all free!

Yes, I really am this easy to please.

I would be a much nicer person if I never had to get in a car.

I commute to work - 45 minutes one way. It's really not all that terrible. I think the work is worth it, but I really, really hate it. Mostly, I hate the other people on the road. If I could be the only person on the road, I would love my commute to work (I'd also get there about 15 minutes faster).

Some people use their commute time to listen to a book on tape or for prayer time. I use my commute as a time to raise my blood pressure and swear at other drivers in my head. Ironically enough, even though there isn't another soul in my car, I still swear silently lest some judge me.

That's all. I have nothing profound to say, except "Get off the road, you jerk of a semi who goes 65 miles per hour in the left hand lane for 10 miles! I'm trying to get to work without killing someone!"

Whew! I feel better.

A Blessing and A Curse

First, the blessing. My family is here for a long weekend vacation.

Next, the curse. My family is here for a long weekend vacation.

We are your typical American family. We have your sisters, your in-laws, your third wives, your teenage pregnancies, your family feuds, your newlyweds, and your crying kids. And I love every single one of them.

Sometimes I want to disown them. Find a nice, stable family and be adopted at the age of 23. They drive me crazy and it's difficult to explain them.

But then I stay at home with the baby of the family - my newest niece who just turned one. She toddles around, trying out those first steps. Until she steps on the cat, scares the cat and herself, falls down, and starts bawling. I scoop her up, positive that Auntie Sarah will be no help, that she will cry until her mama comes home.

Miraculously, baby niece grabs hold of my shirt and shoves her face in my shoulder. She grabs her favorite blanket, Pink, and pops her thumb in her mouth. Armed with all the comforts she needs, she curls up in a snuggly ball and the whimpers die down to nothing.

This is family.

Dear Church,

I went to a book signing last night. You may have heard about it, because the author has sent you many letters. Sarah Cunningham even put them all in her book called Dear Church: Letters from a Disillusioned Generation.

The signing was fun. Sarah was very nice and so was the rest of her family that we met. While I listened to Sarah answer questions and watched her sign books, I thought I wonder how many people are here who go to church. I wonder how many understand what she's saying. I wonder how many people will be mad. Which is a shame, because nothing in Sarah's book should make anyone mad. She builds bridges, she doesn't tear them down.

How many of us know bridge destroyers? How many of us are bridge destroyers? How many bridges have you destroyed, Church? How many will you build?

Love is the greatest bridge, Church. Build it.

Still lovingly yours,
S