On Writing, the 4th, and Americana

I'm sitting on my back porch listening to bottle rockets, fireworks, and who knows what else launch into the air. I'm a bit of a purist, so this business of shooting fireworks before it's even dark out and celebrating Red, Hot, and Boom an entire day early is a tad irritating. I started my morning reading the Declaration of Independence (which, along with the U.S. Constitution is a free app for your iPhone or iPad) and paid a little tribute to the glorious treasure of Americana -- Mayberry. That's right, watched three episodes of the Andy Griffith Show. Ol' Barney. What a hoot. Did you see the one where he joined the Mayberry choir? Hilarious.

It's worth mentioning that I hate fireworks.

Yesterday I discovered something even more life changing than ordering toilet paper and toothpaste from Amazon Prime. Right to your front door, people. Try it. Your world will never be the same again. Ready? Kindle books on the iPad on the elliptical in the air conditioning in a gym. Free kindle books from the library. In a gym with fit, attractive men. Are you hearing me? I can read and work out at the same time!!! I can't vouch for the intensity of this workout, but I can tell you that I only have 40% left to read in my book. Page numbers. That was so 2011.

Moving inside before I get hit by a stray bottle rocket. This neighborhood is nuts.

So this book I'm reading, You Are a Writer by Jeff Goins, basically says that to be a writer, you need to write. He also says you need to physically write the phrase "I am a writer" on a sheet of paper every single day and told us to in the book. I took my right hand off the elliptical handlebar and wrote it, all fancy and cursive like, in the air. No I didn't.

Hence, this blog. Fingers crossed, you'll be hearing from me more often (or maybe your fingers are crossed that you won't be hearing from me more often. Hmm.) The fact is, I do want to be a writer. If you have tips, advice, things you want me to write about on here, please let me know! Until then, I leave you a patriotic ditty and my favorite Sam the Eagle quote "A Salute to All Nations, but mostly America."

weekend roundup

I miss Casey Anthony something fierce. I haven't seen Matt Lauer in over two months. I don't know if the hikers have been released. It's almost an election year and I could not come up with good material for an SNL skit if I were a writer for that, which I am not.

In short, I am one gigantic media mess.

Would someone, someone, please rescue me? Once upon a time, I used to read the Harvard Business Review. I read the Stratford Global Intelligence Report every day. I spent my weekends practicing Venn diagrams so I could sail through the GRE. And then something happened. I'm not sure what it was, but I think it had something to do with becoming increasingly boring. So I took up dancing again.

This weekend, I heard a story about an 85 year old woman who turned down a marriage proposal because the man didn't dance. Now that's a woman with priorities.

This weekend, my church turned 20. We sang happy birthday to our church. Literally. Right there in the service. Next year, we turn 21. How does a church celebrate its 21st? Tequila shots instead of communion wine? Someone should form a planning committee.

This weekend I ran 5 miles. On a Saturday night. Alone. I already put that on facebook but it's worth stating again because it was five miles. And I hate running. Which only proves that I will do that which I hate in order to avoid doing that which I hate more, which is going to parties. It's a little counter-intuitive because, well, it's a party. But trust me. Parties are simply a poor example of social engineering such that one is forced to have the same trivial conversation with numerous people. This causes me no end of exhaustion and depression because it seems that everyone has a better job than me because all I can say is "I work with computers"--which I don't--but that's what inevitably comes out.

In case you don't know, that's Matt Lauer in the picture. He's my celebrity crush. You can keep your Brad Pitt and Jonathan Taylor Thomas. Give me a man who knows his vocab words. And wears good shoes.

happy days are here again

I want this coat

We're two days away from my favorite time of the year: the 'ber' months. It's a time for cute coats, boots, turtlenecks, scarves, pumpkin flavored everything, and the much anticipated red starbucks cup.

And Disney.

Oh how the Disney bug is already bubbling inside me again. This time of year, I always want to go to Disney. always. And it's not for the rides or the smiles or the audio-animatronic presidential figures.

It's for the magic.

It's for the yellow striped table umbrellas hidden down by the old swan boats that everyone seems to ignore in their rush to Space Mountain, but where I go to read and journal. And even dream.

It's for an empty Main Street, long after the rides are closed, with only the sparkle of old-fashioned street lights and the sounds of ragtime and the occasional When you wish upon a star to keep you company.

It's for Cinderella's golden carousel--even though I firmly believe it belongs to Mary Poppins--because there is something about riding a carousel horse that is just like twirling while dancing. The girl in me never, ever tires of it. Because in those moments, I stop thinking. And I smile. And I simply live.

And then the carousel comes to a screeching halt. Just like life. 

The Magic Hairbrush

A couple things happened this week that are so noteworthy that they deserve to be publicly archived. In no particular order:

• Steak. Grilled and already sliced into sweet little steaky fingers. Thank you, Tyson, for creating this package of tasty goodness and then issuing a $1 off coupon. 27 seconds zapped in the microwave and dinner is served. Sounds disgusting, comes out smelling like cat food, but tastes like Heaven. That grand, glorious banquet table in the sky. 

• Running. I have woken up and run every single morning this week. Please read that sentence again. (Selah). Frankly, I'm a little disappointed with myself that I am enjoying it so much. My little ritual goes something like this: the night before, lay out my running clothes. The next morning, after I lock the door, tie my keys into the laces of my shoes (it's a complicated ritual) and then walk to the corner and mutter "I hate running, I hate running, I hate running." Then, pick an Andy Stanley podcast and go. And if you don't know who Andy Stanley is, then you clearly don't follow me on Twitter. You punk.

• Home Office. I just finished my first week of working 100% from home and let me tell you, I was created for this. I was created to work in yoga pants in an environment with a comfortably regulated temperature. In one week, I have accomplished things that were on my to-do list for months. And I am a list-checker-offer, so this is one happy girl.

• Hair brush. I bought a new hair brush on amazon (at the same time I bought new cabin air filters for my car) and let me tell you, I am a new woman. I have hated my hair for 30 years and suddenly, I don't hate it anymore. All because of this magic hair brush. 

Rain and Pink toenail polish

It's Sunday night and I'm sitting on my back porch, drinking coffee, and listening to the rain fall on the tin roof. At least I think it's tin. Maybe aluminium. Either way, you get the idea. It's the perfect closing to a perfect weekend. Or is it a perfect beginning to a start of a new week? I've never quite known where Sundays fall on that great theological divide. Is it the end of a week, culminating in rest or the beginning of a new, the symbol of new life and creation? Heaven knows.

At any rate, all this perfection brings to mind one person and one person only: the great Norman Rockwell. Did you know that Norman Rockwell got divorced? That's like saying Cinderella doesn't get Prince Charming. We're all doomed.

I think I was going to a happier place with the whole Rockwell stream-of-consciousness, but now you know what happens when I try to write on the back porch during mosquito season in mid-June. Things turn ugly.

So I'll leave you with this (because I wrote the title first and I'm too lazy to change it. Stupid, stupid writer's folly): as of last night I have pretty pink toes which means the summer season is officially kicked off. And each time I look at my toes, I get a little happy flutter inside. Like a love flutter. Except it's for my toes.

Indian food and dancin' the blues

Not going to lie. There was a little (big) part of me that thought all my casey anthony blogs would get swept up by the Orlando Sentinel or at the very least News 13. Then maybe, just maybe, Tina Fey would be visiting town, watch the local news, see my blog, and say "hey, she's funny. And we look alike." And then I could join the writing staff at 30 Rock.

So far, it hasn't happened.

I'm 3 days behind on the trial which exposes my inability to commit to television without a strong male lead. If only Jose Baez was Ryan Reynolds.

Since I wasn't Casey Anthony-ing, here's a little weekend summation:

• Dinner at an Indian restaurant that was previously a Krystal. The inside still looked like a Krystal, except there was dark, heavy fabric and a picture of the Taj Mahal.

• Swing dancing and then blues dancing. Blues is like the nirvana of all dances. I don't even know what that means, that's how other-worldly it is. If Jesus was like Santa (which He isn't), I would ask Him to bring me a man that blues dances. 

• Bought lots of fresh fruit from Freshfield Farms and I think I want to make this a summer regularity. If you haven't been there, you should go because it looks like a barn. And every city girl needs a little farm oasis in the middle of downtown. Technically, SODO (South of Downtown). We're so hip. (Can I even be called a city girl if I'm from Orlando?)

• Spent two hours reading by the pool and eavesdropping on all the conversations. I was lathered up with SPF 45 so I felt particularly armed in my crusade against skin cancer.

• Great quality time with various girlfriends (Hi Shannon, Megan, Rachel, and Anna!)

• Watched a movie that I can't for the life of me remember the name of but it reminded me how much I adore the ponytail and pencil skirt. Plus it took place in New York. Starred Rachel McAdams. Will someone please teach me how to do a good ponytail? Because let's face it. It's not going away. 

• Most importantly, spent time worshipping God and being strengthened by His grace with communion. I wish we did that more often. Eating the bread and drinking the wine -- takes only a few seconds, but it's such a holy moment. If you are in the Orlando area and are looking for a church, I'd love for you to join me at UPC! I love this church. Love it. 

And now it's Monday. The end.

Why buying Ladies Home Journal magazine may have been a poor decision

Last week was long. The kind of week where the high point was having a gyno exam. That sounds dirty, but really it just shows how long and positively miserable this week was. And so, after having worked late on a Friday night and coming home to, well, no one and no thing, I decided to assuage my misery.

At this point, most people might have a beer or a martini. I bought Ladies Home Journal magazine.

Do you know the types of ads in Ladies Home Journal magazine? "StriVectin-SD because wrinkles and stretch marks bite." "COPD left me short of breath. Now I take SYMBICORT." "Just because the economy is stuck, it doesn't mean you have to be too. Colon Cleanse." "Getting a better group on Rheumatid Arthritis can start with this syringe." And my favorite: "For fast, long-lasting relief, deflate mucus. Mucinex in. Mucus out."

Which is to say, I'm not sure if my week ended on a high note or not. On the upside, I have three new (heart-healthy) slow cooker recipes and learned five ways to have a healthier bathroom. And for $2.49, you can have all this information too.

December Traditions

Every family has their traditions. Unfortunately, somewhere along the way, my family decided to stop having meals on Christmas day. This would be our tradition. I do not remember getting a vote.

Thankfully, Santa Claus (my mom) faithfully includes a can of Pringles in my stocking each year. This year, my stocking was a priority mail cardboard box. My mom asked me to collapse the box and return it to my local post office, but instead I kept it because it's a good box.

Each December I have a birthday and the day before my birthday, regardless of the day of the week, I wash my sheets. I typically wash my sheets every Monday, which is why I clarified.

Before December 31st, I always look through my journal to see if I have missed any sermons at my church during the year. If I did, I listen to the sermon online and take notes in the journal with an asterisk noting the given date of the sermon and the actual date I heard it. This is not a form of legalism. I just don't like missing out on the continuity of messages. If I happen to have missed a Sunday and there was a speaker who is not my pastor, I skip the message. This demonstrates how much of a legalist I am not.

xanax

Time change weekends are torture for people with anxiety (I diagnosed myself). How do I know if my clock will change because it's magically tied to a world clock that somehow knows the time zones everywhere? What about my cell phone? Computer? I have to re-learn how to change the clock in my car. Literally last week was the first time I got my tivo to record exactly the amount of time in the show without too much additional on either side. And now, tonight of all nights, my cell phone dies.

So help me if the radio doesn't broadcast the time every few minutes tomorrow morning, I will have a panic attack.

judge

If you are walking around at night wearing bright orange in my neighborhood, I am going to assume you are an escaped convict. It's as simple as that.

goodbye Addy

72 hours. That's how long the puppy lasted in the house. I don't even have a picture to show you how adorable she was. But trust me, she was adorable. She matched the furniture and the walls and her bed matched the living room lampshades. For three days, her name was Addy (Addison). But now that she's back with her original owner, her name is Izzy. Which is proof that there are a lot of Grey's Anatomy fans out there.

well stocked

I went grocery shopping this weekend. 40 Kashi waffles and half & half. Is it time to re-evaluate the food pyramid?

Dinner party at my house, anyone?

Andrea, come home.

Historical moment

Official Announcement: I enjoy cooking.

Yep, you read that right. Such needless drama all these years. The missing ingredient? My own kitchen.

I'm sure you naysayers are skeptical on the menu. Tonight's dish: cilantro chicken over a bed of rice and green beans sprinkled with parmesan & romano, served with Turkish tea. I consider this a marked improvement over the last time friends came over for dinner.

• No blood? Check!
• No exploding liquids? Check!
  
• No mad dashes to the internet to look up how-to videos on chopping vegetables and teaspoon conversions? Check, Check!

Now, if only I hadn't turned my dining room into a library......(I'm not kidding)

Move over Rachel Ray

I made Turkish lentil soup from scratch last night (yep, you read that right) and, frankly, I consider the entire endeavor a success. All-in-all, it only involved one band-aid (don't worry, I cleaned the blood off the counter before continuing to chop the onion) and a few burn marks from spewing lentils. But thanks to the frozen edamame I store in the freezer (see how healthy I am?), the burn marks are far less burny (burnie?) than they could be.

morning cooking

Coffee grounds and hot coffee pot without water, coffee does not make. Also, pouring cold water into heated coffee pot results in a loud pop and a very steamy face. There was also a scream.

On the home buying process

• When packing up your home to move, it is a bad idea to box and seal all your towels. Even worse is discovering this once you finish your shower.
• It's possible that your communication style is too direct when it causes your realtor to cry. Twice

the great catch-all blog

No need to tell you it's been a while. Here's the catch-up, in sum:

• I am an amazing diet-eer. I have cooked (yes, coooked) grilled chicken & vegetable dinner meals, sliced my own watermelon, and purchased unsweetened iced tea. I read the nutrition labels and have had several conversations about organic food and farm-raised poultry. I am my own hero.
  
• My current obsession is California Sun-Maid Raisin Bread
• Being a first-time home buyer is one of life's cruel jokes
• Tonight, I discovered that I have, in fact, had (and paid for) cable for the past four years. Ironically, I am moving in two weeks.
  
• Six trips to wretched Eyeglass World and I still don't have my finished glasses. Yet, the doctor has not failed to comment each time on my "unusually strong prescription".
• Tonight has been a night among nights for catching up with friends--phone calls to the far reaches of the earth: Uganda, New Zealand, and the great state of Delaware. Thank you, Skype, for making it all possible.
• Finally, the $5 footlong is here to stay at Subway and I think that's newsworthy.
  

sweet cream

I made an interesting discovery while cooking tonight. If you leave butter in a coffee cup in the microwave too long, it comes out looking like a steamy cappuccino. I do not lie. It is foamy and brown (burned).

And by 'cooking,' I mean heating butter to pour over microwave (already buttered) popcorn.

electric

What does it mean when my stove emits flashes of bright blue lights? (this is a serious question).

I really need to move.