Years ago...

I recently found a friend from high school's blog, and I stole this from her. Thanks Layla!

Twenty years ago I . . .

1) was enjoying the life of an almost 4 year old.

2) enjoyed tormenting my sister.

3) rode an elephant at the zoo.

Ten years ago I . . .

1) moved away from my hometown to a new city.

2) was terrified of starting high school.

3) lived in my first house with a pool.

Five years ago I . . .

1) had the most amazing summer job.

2) was spending one of my only summers during college where I wasn't in school.

3) was tired of being a teenager.

Three years ago I . . .

1) was working part-time at a daycare and loving on all my babies.

2) went to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, just to say I went to the first one after Katrina (**edit**this was actually 2 years ago...I can't do math, as you can tell)

3) turned old enough to legally drink and had 1 drink on my birthday.

One year ago I . . .

1) was a bridesmaid in my oldest friend's wedding

2) wondered why all my friends are getting married and I'm not.

3) turned 23.

So far this year I have . . .

1) had surgery.

2) flown on airplanes.

3) tried to find myself, unsuccessfully.

Yesterday, I . . .

1) worked.

2) talked to an old friend.

3) went to the doctor.

Today I . . .

1) went to work.

2) fought with the student loan people.

3) caught up on my friends' blogs.

Tomorrow I will . . .

1) go to the bank.

2) go to work.

3) pay my student loan bill online.

In the next year, I may . . .

1) fall in love.

2) take a trip.

3) find a new job that I'm happy with

What makes me sad...

Finally having time to go by Starbucks for my Light Cafe Vanilla Frap, only to drop it as soon as I walk into work, leaving literally only a sip left.

The world is conspiring against me, I tell ya.

My little bowhead

I got to spend some sweet time with my Goddaughter this weekend. She's just starting to get enough hair to put bows in, but her mom never does...so I took the liberty of doing so! She kept looking up at the ceiling trying to figure out what I was doing. She's so sweet. She'll be 10 months old August 12th.


Keep her family in your prayers. Her mom's grandmother is probably not going to make it much longer. She's been fighting cancer for the past few months. Laura went down here last week for a day or so, and she's just waiting for a phone call now. She's very close to her, and I hate to see her hurting.

It's 4:30am

and I'm awake. I had to write this tonight because I knew if I waited until morning I would lose that heat-of-the-moment feeling.

I'm a pretty heavy sleeper. But I suppose like moms have that 6th sense of hearing their children utter "momma" when they can be 600 miles away, I have something like that I like to call a "bug detector".

So I got in bed tonight, read for a little bit, turned out the light and went to nightnight land. All was well in nightnight land. But because of a gene I inherited from my father, I sleep with one arm over my eyes and my elbow pointed to the ceiling. Imagine my shock and horror when I wake up to SOMETHING CRAWLING ON MY ARM. Without any clue what it was, I flung my arm over toward the other side of the bed, hopefully launching whatever it was off. Then I sit up, heart pounding. Granted it's pitch black, but my eyes are adjusting, but I don't have my glasses on so I can't see JACK...and frankly I don't want to see what I just flung across the room. If you know me, you know my deathly fear of spiders (all bugs really). So I finally am able to see my floor enough from the moonlight coming in the window to walk across and turn on the big light. What do I see? The mother of all mother of ROACHES crawling across my end table next to the bed. So I grab a flip flop, not sure why they don't pack much of a punch, and proceed to swat at it, only causing it to jump ONTO MY BED. I'm sufficiently freaked out now, fully awake, and ready for battle.

To make an even longer story not quite so long, I still don't know that little blankety blank thing is. Last I saw of it, it had crawled into a bookbag laying on my floor next to my old computer desk. I had decided last night that I'd go back to work tomorrow (err, today?) since I was feeling better, but I'm starting to think I need to stay home and clean. I have plans all day Saturday and don't want to put it off until Sunday afternoon.

Anyway, I'm not done. Are you still with me?

I decide to spend the remainder of the night on the couch in the living room. Normally I'd go get in the bed in the guest room, aka Laura's old room, but no one's slept in there in quite a while I'd I'd be almost certain to have some guests in that bed. Anyway. I walk into the living room, turn the light on to make sure the couch is cleaned off, and SOMETHING CRAWLS ACROSS THE FLOOR IN FRONT OF ME. It's not black, not crunchy from what I can tell, but resembles NOTHING of his brother, cousin, whatever they got to play in the commercial. That's right folks. A gecko. I couldn't make this stuff up.

So I know they're not harmful and everything, and I'd just love to catch that bad boy to put him outside to stop my pounding heart, but he's very startled and runs behind the TV cabinet and I've yet to see him again. But then again, he's a gecko, and for all I know he's disguising himself as a living room couch at this very moment. If you see no new posts from me in a while, you'll know he got me. Or the roach did. Or I had a heart attack.

And the even funnier thing is, one of the blogs I read recently had this post, and I laughed at her because I had never even heard of one of those things before. See if I laugh at a bug situation again.

Oh, did I mention I had been sleeping with my mouth open?

98 days

That's how long it's been since I was last sick. Three weeks and 1 day after my sinus surgery I caught a cold and had to get some drugs to kick it. Since then, it's been pretty smooth sailing--which beats getting sick every single 3 weeks.

The week before vacation I started getting a sore throat. I loaded up on some Vitamin C and OTC Zyrtec and it seemed to do the trick for the duration of vacation (hey--that rhymes!). But yesterday I started getting another sore throat at work. I called my ENT but the soonest they could see me was Monday morning. I figured I'd tough it out at work, but I'm pretty pitiful when I'm sick, and about 8:30 last night I left work 2 hours shy of when I was supposed to get off. Came home, had fever close to 101. Went straight to bed with God's greatest invention--the heating pad.

Got up this morning and went to the clinic. After some drama regarding my insurance (how come no one tells newly graduated people that your deductible starts OVER July 1st?? I never knew that when I was on mom and dad's..), and a wait for over 2 hours, they finally diagnosed me with an upper respiratory infection and probable sinus infection. He said he wasn't completely sure it was a sinus infection, but given my history he'd be willing to bet it was--especially with the fever. Oh, and wouldn't you know...my temperature was 98.4 when they took it. Figures.

Soo, I got a shot in my bahonkus, 2 Rx's, and was sent on my merry way. The good thing is that the Strep test came back negative (woohoo!), and my throat isn't really that sore anymore. I'm still pretty stuffy and my head feels about THIS big (imagine my hands stretched out as far as they can go). BUT, I think a day of resting was what I needed. Dad picked up my meds a few minutes ago, so I've started on them. I'll go back to work tomorrow, although it is Friday and I do have a doctors' excuse...hmm..

What does everyone have planned for this weekend?

aww

This made me sad! Poor Sophia...we'll miss you!

to be loved

We might not know if it has a name
We might call it circumstance
We might try to look the other way
We might think it’s accident

It’s a wound--it’s a sting
It’s a finger with a string
It’s a song with no words that we know
It’s a mist--it’s a dream
It’s a faded memory
And we want it bad
We want it bad

Chorus:
To be here
To be now
To be open to the truth
To be held
To be seen
To be heard
To be faith
To be hope
And greatest gift of all--
To be loved--all we really want is
To be loved

We might call it the price of growing up
We might think it’s fairytale
We might try to medicate the ache
We might think we’re all alone

It’s a name we can’t speak
It’s a stranger on the street
It’s a hope in the things not seen
It’s a peace that we crave
It’s the thing for which we’re made
And we want it bad
We want it bad

We find no rest until we rest in You
We cling to our stubbornness
We let go of what we never had
To find our way to You

'Cause we hurt and we bleed
In our brokenness and need
And we're scared to come in too close
But Your love has a way
Of invading every space
And we want it bad
We want it bad