My Tuesday Night List of Randomicity

1. I love my new table and chairs. LOVE THEM. You all are invited to dinner. I'll send you directions.

2. I accidentally ate half a loaf of chocolate chip zucchini bread tonight. I am not sure how that happened.

3. I just bought a new pair of Levi's jeans. I haven't owned Levi's since I was 11. A lot has changed in 19 years. Trust me on this.

4. I saw two bats tonight. Did you get that? TWO. BATS. I think I will wear a turtleneck from now on.

5. I still need help redecorating my home. I have hit a wall. No literally, I hit a wall trying to move furniture. But I am also at a loss as to what pictures I should frame. Between the 3,000 I took of the Middle East, the 4,820 I have of Noah, combined with my 40,201 cousins and a handful of pictures from Yogurtland, we're talking lots of options, folks. So, who would like to come sort through all of them with me?

Anyone, anyone?

Bueller?

6. I am peg-leg rolling my pajama pants to avoid another near-death experience. I am pretty sure the trend will catch on.

7. Speaking of trends, can someone please explain to me how to wear a pair of "jeggings?" You know, the jean/legging combo that would make me look like an ice cream cone?  I am so confused. Wasn't 1984 a couple decades ago?

8. And speaking of 1984, that was the year that I had my tonsils taken out. I don't remember much from that procedure other than wanting lots of ice cream. Hmmm...maybe there is a correlation somewhere in here?

9. I have a strong desire to be in a musical right now.

10. I told someone today that I am closer to 40 than I am 20. Why did I have to say that? Why did that thought have to pop into my head? Where's the other half of that zucchini bread?

11. I still heart Chuck. Just in case you were wondering.

12. I realize that my chances of finding a cowboy in suburban Denver are slim to none. But thankfully I serve a God who is bigger than demography, geography, biology, psychology and bovine-ology.

13. I really love that so many of you comment on this blog. It makes my day. Truly.

14. The End.

Call Me Grace

Try to imagine, if you will, the following scenario:

A certain frustrated cowgirl was putting clean sheets on her bed last night. Although this task is not one of her favorites, the alternative would be to live like a college-aged boy and never change sheets until Thanksgiving. The mere thought of this almost makes her dry heave.

I digress.

As she was wrestling with the fitted sheet on the corner of her mattress, she took a step forward only to find that her big toe had caught on the cuff of her pajama pants. (Yes, her PJ's have cuffs.) Since all of her momentum was in the forward motion, she began to fall face first to the floor, still unable to free her toe. At the last possible nano second, she grabbed for the rail on her foot board which caused her entire body to swing around 180 degrees. This left her backside hovering three inches above the floor, her hands desperately clinging to the rail and her toe still securely stuck in the cuff of her pant.

As she hung there, balancing on one foot and wondering how her life had gotten to this point, she realized several important things:
1. How grateful she was that no one witnessed that amazing display of grace and agility
2. How her complete lack of coordination is still alive and thriving.
3. Cuffs are from the devil.
4. This could be the reason she is single.
5. She may have pulled something.

Thankfully, once she regained the use of her other foot and was able to stand up, the rest of her bed-making experience was accident-free. However, she hoped that this was not the beginning of a series of cataclysmic events that result in public humiliation or bodily harm. If you think of it, say a prayer for her safety because rumor has it she is wearing platform heels today.

And on that note, happy Monday to you.

Redecorating Is Not My Spiritual Gift

I thought I would give you a brief update on the Home Makeover: Frustrated Cowgirl/Funky Little Sister Edition. It has had its highs and lows in the four days that it has been underway. There has been laughter, tears, frustration and apathy. Frugality is running amuck and gray hairs are growing with wild abandon. In other words, it's like any other week at my home.

Here is a rundown of my complete lack of talent in the interior design world:

1. I love the new picture hanging on our wall above our staircase. It is big and brown and has all the names of the subway stops in New York City. It just screams "Get on a plane and come see me, Sarah!" I love talking art. But more than that, I love talking art that tells me to travel. We think it fits our taste perfectly. And if two girls who have degrees in International Something Or Other doesn't scream "travel" to you, then I don't know what does!

2. I have decided that everything I ever bought to decorate with (other than the aforementioned picture) is completely worthless to me right now. Worthless in the sense that I covet new things and wish the words "too expensive" never entered my vocabulary. And I know that everything that Pottery Barn and Restoration Hardware have in their stores right now would be absolutely perfect. So, who's up for sponsoring me and this project? I promise I will bake for you.

3. I am continually grateful for my couch. Last summer, when my darling roomie Melanie moved out because she was marrying the man of her dreams, she also took her couch with her. The nerve! However, God is good and He knew that I was/am still paying off the above-mentioned degree in International Something Something and he connected me with a guy who was giving away an almost brand new couch for free.  FOR FREE, people! And it's not just any couch, it is a sectional, with big pillows and comfy cushions, and a ginormous coffee table/foot stool that went with it. And it fits perfectly in our condo. And did I mention it was free? No? Well, it was. Entirely free. I am still in awe of how God works, especially when it comes to interior decorating.

4. I have also discovered that I now need two more lamps. I am not sure how this happened because last week my condo had plenty of light in it. What does that mean?

5. Additionally, we have learned that flying wall hangings can be deadly. On Wednesday, Claire had the morning off and just as she was settling into our comfy couch with her breakfast shake, ready to take on the world via Facebook, a mirror, that weights approximately 893 pounds, fell off of its hook above the fire place, hit the mantle, did a complete 360 mid-air and crashed on our wood floors. Needless to say it was no longer in one piece. After checking her exposed body parts for shrapnel, Claire called me in a grave voice, saying:

"Sarah, I have some bad news."

I hate those words. Especially on the phone.

"Okay, what is it?"

"Your mirror just took a nose dive off the fireplace and is currently spread across our floor in a million pieces. You'll want to make sure you wear shoes."

Thankfully she was not hurt because it very well could have killed her. Or at least maimed her severely. And I just discovered that Lowe's has replacement mirror for $10. That is doable.

But you still may want to wear shoes when you come to my house.

6. I am in love with Craig's List. And do you know why? It's because I found this table and chairs for $35! I am going to see it right after work. And my gracious co-worker even offered to pick it up for me. I love people who have pick-up trucks.

So, there you have it. That is the rundown of our redecorating madness. Our place looks like a bomb exploded, leaving picture frames, lamp shades, odd pieces of furniture and random socks, bobby pins and piles of lent lying everywhere. You are welcome to come over but I will need you sign a liability form first.

And on that note, I hope your weekend is shrapnel free!

Two Girls and Yogurtland

I have a fabulous friend named Sara. And it just so happens that Sara and I have many, many things in common.

For instance, we share a name. Obviously.

Also, she is Irish. So Irish, in fact, that her dad is from Ireland. It doesn't get more Irish than that.

Sara also loves OU football. I mean REALLY loves it. Like she was Sooner born and Sooner bred. Maybe we are related. I can always use another cousin.

Sara and I also go to the same church, which makes it fun because we often get confused for each other.

Sara has freckles, green eyes, and the same inability to tan like I do.

And if that weren't enough, her dad is my boss. Yep, the same one whom I requested that you write letters to. Hey, how is that going by the way?

There are many more things to list, including our love for Target, Gap, cookies, funky jewelry and fabulous shoes. But we now share a new item in common: our love for Yogurtland.

Oh people. Yogurtland is one of my new favorite places. It's a virtual smorgasbord of frozen delights all waiting to be plucked and poured and scooped and served by your very own hands. You are the master of your own yogurt destiny.

The lines are often long. But don't let that scare you.

They move fast because let's face it, people want their yogurt.

Especially high schoolers. Apparently this is the place to be. I am so glad I finally fit in.

Here is Sara. And do you know what she is holding? I call them yogurt shots. You can grab as many as you want and try every flavor available. It could be my most favorite invention. That and Spanx. I love how they compliment each other.

So, you start with a cup. Any size you want. Remember, this is freedom personified.

And you pick your flavor or flavors. Whatever floats your boat.

When I saw the "Peanut Butter" sign, I almost asked if I could move in and pay rent.

How did they know that Ghiradelli chocolate is one of my most favorite food groups?

 

Um, yes please.

And just when you think it can't get any better, you find yourself standing in front of an endless amount of toppings.

There are no words.

Here is Sara's creation. It is a work of art.

And here is mine. I am not going to lie, I kinda want to lick the screen right now.

Once you finish your yogurt utopia, you put it on a scale and pay this guy:

His name is Jake. And when he asked me why I had a camera with me, I told him that I like to blog about food and new places around town to eat.

And then he asked me if anyone read my blog. And I told him that a couple people did.

Then he laughed at me and posed for my picture.

Punk head.

However, I did not let some high school boy ruin my day because I know that I have the best readers in all the world...all four of you!

So grab a friend and head to Yogurtland! And be sure to give Jake my regards.

I Could Get Used To This

Oh friends. Thank you for all of your fabulous suggestions. I loved them all. And not one of you mentioned hiking as an option. It's why I like you so much.

My day off was glorious. I could very easily make a habit of it. Like a weekly habit. I will be happy to give you my boss's address so you can write a letter to him requesting that I get more time off. Just make sure you mention that it needs to be "paid" time off.

Thank you and I am sure he will love hearing from you.

So, as a recap, my day started like any other day: alarm blaring, hitting snooze, alarm blaring again, hitting snooze and so on. It was during my fifth snooze cycle that I realized that my work calendar was completely empty for the day, no appointments, meetings or deadlines. Additionally, I realized that I could use an additional 17 hours of sleep. I could tell my body needed it. And on top of that, as if I needed another excuse, I really needed to deep condition my hair and eat some of the large amounts of fruit that were in my refrigerator.

Thus, the vacation day was born.

From that moment on, my morning consisted of napping, checking email, checking Facebook, eating oatmeal with cinnamon, watching Hulu, drinking coffee, eating fruit, blogging for ideas on what to do on my day off, talking to my mom, eating more fruit, walking outside to my deck to check on my basil plant, drinking more coffee and deep conditioning my hair.

In other words, it was a perfect morning.

Around noon, I rallied and cleaned the kitchen and my bathroom. I know I said that I didn't want to deep clean, but it had to be done folks, HAD TO BE DONE.

After I had tried on all the clothes that I hadn't worn in six months, I finally decided on my favorite pair of jeans, sandals and t-shirt and hit the wide open road to Super Target.

Let's take a minute and think about all the things we love about Target.

I did a quick detour to the dry cleaners to drop off my down comforter because as much as I am in denial about cold weather coming, it's going to be here and this cowgirl does not like to be cold. I also ran by the bank to make a deposit, where I happened to drop the canister, causing it to roll under my car because I may or may not have been on the phone at the time. I hope all the bank tellers enjoyed me squeezing out of my car door and crawling around on the ground to retrieve it because there is no graceful way of doing that, folks. I blame poor engineering and Wells Fargo.

Finally, I descended upon Super Target where I spent the next two hours trying on anything that was remotely cute or trendy or fun or fabulous. I worked up a sweat and an appetite so once I gathered up my new wardrobe and finished my shopping, I headed for the golden arches for my new favorite snack: McDonald's ice cream cone.

Now, I know this may be a shock to all of you because McDonald's has been around since 1378 and the only flavor they offer is vanilla, but I KID YOU NOT, it is creamy cold perfection. And, on top of that, it is good for you, relatively speaking. Here are the stats:

For those of you counting calories: 150
For those of you counting points: 3
For those of you counting fat grams: 3.5
For those of you counting your pennies: $.64
For those of you who don't care: I can't help you.

My next stop was Cost Plus, which is a dangerous place for me because I want to buy one of everything in the store and two of their shower curtains. I really love their shower curtains. If you are in the market for one, I would recommend going there. After coveting the jewelry and their selection of European chocolate, I bought a huge piece of art that is now hanging in my condo.

I rounded out my day by having dinner with my mom and beginning the grand redecorating of my home. There is just something about the middle of August that screams "I can't stand this place another minute, I must redecorate immediately!" Or something like that. It is a huge project that Claire and I are working on while trying to be as frugal as possible. If you have any fun decorating tips, or would like to donate your interior design skills, or want to sign me up for HGTV, just let me know.

By 9:30 I realized I needed a nap. So after my 38th serving of fruit and re-trying on all the clothes that I brought home from Target, I went to bed and dreamed of future vacation days.

In conclusion, I would like to state for the record that vacation days are indeed a necessity of life. And if you can combine that with a weekend, it makes a four-day work week a little more doable. And if you combine a vacation day with a weekend, in the middle of August, then you know that you have another three-day sabbatical right around the corner: Labor Day.

Long live paid governmental holidays.

Vacation Day

Hello peeps! Guess what? I am taking a vacation day today! Words cannot express how much joy this brings me. But, since this was spur of the moment, I am not sure what to do.

Any ideas?

But please know that the words "hiking" and "deep cleaning" should not be mentioned. And not just today, ever.

Y'all are the best!

Dance Break

It's Friday, peeps! My favorite day of the week. And in honor of this glorious day, I have a clip that you must watch. No, I'm serious. You have to watch this. If you do nothing else today, click on the following link:

http://thebubble.msn.com/video/?id=843fe41c-d177-4f8e-bb4d-a2a4008ba6e5

I may need to borrow some of his moves the next time I go salsa dancing. That will win them over, don't you think?

Clinging to Summer...and My Sanity.

Confession: I think I may start pouting. And maybe cry a little. I may even flail my arms. That's right, flail. And do you know why? It's because I am not finished with summer. Not one little bit.

When I was little and didn't get my way, I would hold my breath and pass out. The first time it happened, my mom nearly had a heart attack. The second time I did it, she rolled her eyes and continued with what she was doing. Apparently it didn't have the effect I wanted it to.

Regardless, I almost feel like holding my breath right now in protest of the changing seasons. It might not be the most mature thing to do but I bet it would add a little excitement to my work day. Or get me fired. Whichever.

The problem is that I am not a huge fan of autumn because it means we are only three short months from winter which is the furthest you can get from summer. And as glorious as Colorado is, I just do not enjoy only four hours of daylight each day and the rain/snow/slush/sunshine/wind/bitterly cold mix that comes with it.

I am a summer girl who lives in a state that only has three months of it. What is this world coming to?

Apparently I am going to kick and scream into September. Stand back people, and try not to be overwhelmed by my oh-so rational behavior.

Besides, sweaters and pumpkins are highly overrated.

These Boots Are Made For Walking. Literally.

These boots rank right up there with some of my favorite shoes of all time.

And that's saying something, folks.

Santa Clause brought them to me. I really love that guy.

They are the perfect color of red, thus, they go with anything.

Minus a cocktail dress.

Unless you are from Oklahoma.

And they are really, really comfortable. Especially to a girl who is shy a bone in her right foot. However, I don't like to tell many people that so I try to keep that a secret.

They come in many colors. Even pink. Perhaps even leopard print. I dare you to wear leopard print cowgirl boots on a cattle ranch. Go on, I dare you.

They also come on and off very easily, which is a minor miracle for cowgirl boots. Hernias have happened over taking off other pairs.

You should run out a get a pair. Or ask Santa Clause. Because you never know when you are going to need a pair of cowgirl boots.

Especially if you are waiting on a cowboy.

Singer/Song Writer

On our way home from the zoo on Saturday, Noah sang this song to me:

"Colorado is a really nice place to live.
Where there's lots of beaches,
But not really,
But the streets are really nice to drive on."

I told you he was a musical genius.

The Animal Fair

On Saturday, I borrowed my mom's Gram Wagon and headed to the zoo, not only to meet up with two of my fabulous college friends and their kiddos, but also to hang with my rent-a-kid for the day: Noah.

Let me preface this by saying that I had not been to the zoo since high school and I was completely shocked by how much I didn't remember. Literally, nothing looked familiar. Even the map looked foreign. But thankfully, the kids knew the place backward so I relied on the wisdom and discernment of a five year-old to get me around, which somehow makes complete sense even though there are animals all around that could eat you.

My friends have some of the cutest kids this side of the Mississippi. They were so much fun to be around. And let's be honest folks, you can't say that about everyone.

This little cutie is Charla. Her romper had zoo animals on it. I love a girl who knows how to dress for an occasion! Great job, Laura.

This little charmer is James. His eyelashes are longer than Snuffleupagus' eyelashes, which mean they are very, very long. And he makes me laugh. A lot.

And this is Mandy with James and her sweet chica bonita: Katie Jane. Now Katie just happened to turn away when I took this picture, but if you look closely you can see that she is wearing a pink tutu. I cannot tell you how much I am in love with her outfit. I wish they made them for adults, don't you?

No?

Never mind.

I think you know this fella. He was an awesome tour guide. And if you haven't rented a kid lately, I would highly recommend it.

So, we did what most people do when they go to the zoo, we sweated. Oh, and we also looked at animals.

We saw lots of these...

And these...

And this one...who apparently just couldn't take the pressure anymore and had to lie down...

And a couple of these...

And then there was this guy...and I have no idea what he is.

Does anyone know?

Anyone?

He's kinda funny looking.

But most of all, I am just glad I got to see these two. I have known them for ten years and I can tell you that my college days would not have been nearly as wonderful if these two had not been there.

I am a pretty big fan of these girls.

The Face Of Maturity

I think it is pretty clear who is the more mature sister:

I can't take her anywhere.

That Purple Dress

I have received thousands of emails asking me about the purple dress I wore to my friend Jenn's wedding.

Okay, wait. Let me rephrase that.

I have received one email and an inquiry from someone at the wedding about the purple dress I wore to my friend Jenn's wedding.

And because I love it so much and felt absolutely fabulous in it, I feel it is my feminine obligation to share the details with you:

1. First of all, I bought the dress online and it is totally true to size. I ordered a size #$% and it fit perfectly!
2. And guess where it came from?  JCPenney! Can you flippin' believe it? I still can't.
3. It comes in two colors: grape purple and cobalt blue. I heart them both.
4. It is on SALE! RIGHT NOW!
5. It is the perfect dress for any occasion: weddings, dinner dates, special occasions, salsa dancing, baking cookies. Okay, minus that last one unless you wear an apron.
6. It does not wrinkle. Did you get that? NO WRINKLING. And I know this because I threw it in a bag on my way to the wedding and pulled it out two hours later and it looked magnificent. And this means it will travel anywhere.
7. It sucks you in and makes you look like you just lost 10 pounds. And that means you can eat dessert and not feel guilty.
8. Heels are a must-have with this dress because they make your tushie look spectacular.
9. I don't have a 9. but I just thought I would take this opportunity again to tell you how much I love this dress and I would totally love it if all of you (minus the men) had one too!
10. Just let me know when you wear it so we don't look like bridesmaids.

I tried to copy the picture and post it on this blog but it would not allow me to do it. Stinking copyright. So, HERE IS THE LINK!

Happy shopping, my friends!

To Cut or Not To Cut

My darling sister just chopped off all of her hair.

I love it more than my new pair of heels.

It is chic and cute and effortless and hippy dippy.

I want to be hippy dippy. Can't I be?

Part of me wants to wake up in the morning and just take a shower and be done with it. And I wouldn't have to worry about having a pony tail holder or a bobby pin or a pencil to stick in my head just so my hair looks somewhat presentable. And I wouldn't have to spend time blow drying and curling and straitening and curling and spraying and brushing and shampooing and rinsing and pulling and teasing and flipping and crying.

But on the other hand, I have always wanted to be in a Pantene commercial.

I am between a rock and a hard place, people.

Wedding Weekend Recap (You May Want To Grab A Snack)

To say that this wedding was stupendous is an understatement. I mean how can it not be when you have a candy bar, a rain delay followed by double rainbows and a choreographed first dance that can only be described as pure magic?  Exactly.

Saturday was full of the rehearsal and a dinner in the park. On my way up to the rehearsal, which was in the mountains, I managed to miss my exit onto I-70 and ended up in Golden. Now to you out-of-towners, Golden is only a mere five minutes from the turn-off, but to a girl who is racing against the clock and still needs to put on mascara and make sure her shirt isn't on backwards, this was a huge waste of precious time. HUGE, people. Why, in the name of all that is good in the world, can that exit not be marked more clearly? It is a major intersection with very important interstates running every direction, I would think that the very least my tax money could do is to have a bigger sign that helps frantic drivers get into the mountains. All they want is to head west. WEST, I tell you!

Thankfully I skidded into the parking lot with a minute to spare and without sirens behind me.

I was in charge of taking pictures of the event, which I tried to capture without being too noticeable. But I realized that this just wasn't possible when you have a ginormous camera around your neck and people just don't believe you when you say you are the 13th bridesmaid.

Here is a picture of Rachel and her husband Josh with their cute little peanut only 9 DAYS after she gave birth. Try not to covet.

The night went off perfectly and I was even home early enough to swing by my parents' place and mooch off of their cable. I love free cable.

The next day I woke up to blurred vision and dizziness, the tell-tale sign of an impending migraine. After large doses of drugs and an ice pack to the forehead, I managed to get ready and once again make my way up the mountains. Thankfully I made my exit this time but felt extremely sorry for the poor suckers who ended up in Golden, wondering where the Rocky Mountains had gone to and resolving never to take the family on a cross-country drive again.

Once I arrived, I hit the ground running. I had to set up the candy table, gift card table, guest book table, place card table, distribute candles and pictures for the centerpieces and manage to re-curl my hair, apply more mascara and shimmy into my purple dress. And I had to do it in an hour. Thankfully, I had eight groomsmen who had nothing better to do than to look good, so I put them to work and everything came together beautifully.

And then I saw the bride and realized that my sweaty armpits were totally worth it:

I know. Stunning.

Unfortunately, just as all the guests had found their seats for the outdoor ceremony, the heavens opened up and rain and hail poured down. Many made it back only a little dampened. Many did not. And I think they all wanted to kiss the wait staff for having the coffee bar up and running. Jenn handled the delay beautifully, completely relaxed and happy, knowing that it would only be a matter of minutes until things would be underway.

Finally, the skies cleared up and we all made our way to our seats, not caring that every one of us would  have wet backsides afterwards. The bridesmaids were lovely, the groom was beaming and Jenn never looked more beautiful. It was amazing.

Afterward, I raced back to the reception site, wet bum and all, and began snapping pictures for the guest book. Jenn had this great idea to have a photo guest book filled with all of her guests posing inside of an empty frame.

Here is Exhibit A:

Here are Kim and Heather from Women's Group with their hubbies. Aren't they cute?

So, just imagine that my camera now holds over 200 pics just like this, but mostly with people I have never seen before.

I think at this point I had begun to lose feeling in both pinky toes. But what is a pinky toe in the name of fashion? I love how you understand me.

The reception kicked off with the introduction of the 20-member wedding party, followed up with a fajita bar that could rival one in Mexico. After toasts, cake and a slide show, Jenn and her new husband Josh hit the dance floor to the coolest first dance. Ever. It started off slow, then they busted out some salsa, then it transitioned into swing, followed by hip hop and ending with twirl and a dip. It was a stellar performance.

By 9:30, the party was just getting started but I had lost feeling in both feet, one ankle and my quads were shaking. Probably not a good sign. So, I rounded up the five of us from Women's Group that were still there and we took this picture:

I love it. And I love these girls. And I loved this wedding. It was perfect in every way!

And when I woke up Monday morning with soreness in muscles I didn't know existed, numbness in half of my right foot, a migraine that was still hanging on and an overall general feeling that I had been hit by a truck, I experienced a level of bliss that can only be described in two words: sick day.

Matrimonial Equation

What does a purple dress + killer high heels + a can of hairspray + a deluge of rain + another can of hairspray + fake eyelashes + 12 bridesmaids + trusty Spanx + blingy rings + the Electric Slide + chocolate cake + free refills + a stellar first dance + 188 guests + Excedrin Migraine + a stunning bride + a beaming groom + really, really sore feet =?

A phenomenal,

over the top,

absolutely beautiful,

God-honoring,

booty-shakin',

fabulously elegant

wedding.


I will fill you in on all the details once the feeling comes back to my toes.

Rent-A-Kid

I am renting this kid.

I am renting.him and taking him to the zoo so I fit in with all of the other parents who have their kids on leashes.

That's not weird, is it? I mean the leashes part is a little weird, but not renting, right?

I promise I'll take good care of him. I won't let him pet the lions or swim with the sharks.

I'll even feed him.

Even cotton-candy covered ice cream with goldfish crackers on top. Or whatever is the rage among five year-olds these days.

I am hoping his parents say yes. It's not a done deal yet. Perhaps if I show up in a minivan that will make them think I can handle it. Cross your fingers.

And if it all goes well, I may be looking for other kids to rent. So get your leashes ready.

Deep Thoughts

Is it wrong that I like to watch Gossip Girl with my sister late into the night, talking about all the things we love about Chuck Bass?

Is it wrong that I literally want to suck the cheeks off of every cute baby out there?

Is it wrong to live in Colorado but not like to hike? Or ski? Or be all out-doorsy and talk about how much I love nature?

Is it wrong that I like to get up in the morning, take a shower, and then crawl back into bed knowing that I could use those minutes to be more presentable and awake when I arrive to work?

Is it wrong that I secretly hope I could be Carol Burnett and have my own variety show?

Is it wrong to balance a Snickers with a Diet Coke? Dont' they equal out?

Is it wrong to not want to get my oil changed because I don't want to hear about which filter needs to be replaced and what whiz-bang needs changing and how many lug nuts I am missing?

Is it wrong to want to be an international food critic without gaining weight or experiencing jet lag?

Is it wrong that I still wish I could be a goonie?

Is it wrong to want to keep the tags on a dress so you can return it later after you have worn it?  Actually yes, yes that is wrong.

Is it wrong to only want to eat cookie dough and not make cookies?

Is it wrong to want to go on a hot date just so I can wear my new high heels?


These are the many things that are on my mind, people. Don't be overwhelmed by my profoundness.

It's All About Timing

This is Jenn. She is a fearless world-traveler, nurse extraordinaire and a truly devoted friend.

And this weekend Jenn is getting married. It is going to be three days of fun and celebration and seeing God answer years of prayer. Oh, it will be spectacular!

In anticipation of the impending nuptials, there has been much talk about me meeting a fella who has come highly recommended by her and her soon-to-be hubby. He lives out of state but has planned to be here for the weekend to celebrate. And everyone involved thought that it would be a fairly fabulous idea that he and I meet. And get to know each other. And maybe dance. Or not. Whatever.

So, to honor the occasion, I bought a purple dress, electric purple actually, and have been trying to apply as much sunless tanner as possible without looking like an oompa loompa.

It's a hard balance, people.

However, last night Jenn gave me a holler to say that this fella is unable to make it. As in he is not coming. As in he will be MIA. As in there goes my need to look above-par this weekend. She said something about a work conflict and driving a long way. And she felt terrible about it. I felt terrible that she felt terrible because you shouldn't feel terrible on your wedding week.

I am not going to lie to you and say that I wasn't disappointed because actually I was. There is an element of self-talk that goes into meeting someone new. There is also a sense of anticipation that is rarely experienced, anticipation that you could meet someone who could have a tremendous impact in your life. It's the anticipation of a possibility and I find that so exciting.

And also a little nauseating. It's all about balance, like I said.

However, after Jenn and I talked I realized that this meeting is all about timing, and not my timing, mind you. It's a timing that we will never understand because we serve a God who is beyond our understanding. What seems so perfect and fun could actually be completely wrong and disastrous. And I have the choice to either believe that He knows better than I do or simply pout and cry and feel sorry for myself. And while the latter method does feel good sometimes, the end result is still the same.

It's the waiting game. And we all love to hate the waiting game. But the thing to hold onto is that we are waiting on Someone who has our absolute best interest in mind.

Oswald Chambers says that you are not to wait for something by "sulking spiritually and feeling sorry for yourself just because you can't see one inch in front of you." And "waiting is not sitting with folded hands doing nothing." There has to be a middle ground, a place where you are being exactly who you were created to be, no matter where you are in the waiting game. Chambers puts it this way: "[waiting] is learning to do what we are told to do."

So, while I wait for whatever, or whomever, to come along, I am pretty sure I have been told trust Him with my agenda and my calendar. That, my friends, is a work in progress. But I am also pretty sure that I should wear that purple dress and dance like a maniac while I celebrate my friend and her new life ahead.

And that I can do.