A Mental Picture

Because my digital camera is out of commish, I will paint you a mental picture of the delights that are my living room right now.

1. There is (not kidding) a DVD playing a fire. Yes, that means there is a fire roaring (crackles and all) in our "fireplace" which is the TV. What? We'll take what we can get.

2. There are tiny white lights around the periphery of the room. They are perfect and provide a delicious glow making our living room feel lovely the way snow makes even a junk yard look picturesque.

3. There is a tiny (fake) Christmas tree on top of a table just as you walk in the door. There are two reasons we had to go fake this year. One, our house is a fire waiting to happen and two, it is a huge fire hazard. Read: this house cannot use another excuse to catch flame. Thus, we will place a cute little tree on a table and light a tiny candle that smells like pine. Sure, it probably all evens out, but whatever.

4. There is a santa-penguin shamelessly suction-cupped to the window.

5. There are tiny white lights and a Santa on the porch. Completely awesome.

6. There is a poinsettia on the dining room table.

7. There is a cup of candy canes on the coffee table.

8. There will soon be a Nativity Scene on the entry table.

9. There are fabulous and nostalgic Christmas tunes in the air.

10. It. Is. Christmas.


Side notes:
This weekend was a great one! Dinner with Rachel was outstanding and a wonderful time to catch up on the last 13 years. Jessica's birthday celebrations were a riot- I hope she felt SO loved! Roommate Christmas was ideal. Toss in some rest, a kosher early bird special and even a champagne tasting and you've got my weekend.

Life is good.

Tiga Tiga Tiga Woods, y'all

Why am I shocked any more when Hollywood disappoints me?

Fame repels faithfulness. At least that's how it seems, right? When the news of his "accident" broke, I was sitting in the living room with my sister and dad. We called it. It was just a little too fishy and i KNEW Elin wasn't helping him but, instead, missing her real target-his head. The fact that she used a golf club is almost too apropos.

I really always thought el Tigre was a great guy. He seemed to have his act together and some supernatural skills. I mean, I could watch that commercial of him dribbling the golf ball on that club all day. But now he's oh-so-human.

He's become a statistic, y'all.

I know my appropriate response should be the realization that we're all sinful, but my reaction is utter disappointment. Like any other person whose hidden life is exposed, he is squirming. A natural response. My hope is that he can soon salvage his family and marriage.

Must another one bite the dust?

I'm pretty fortunate Cam and Carol have shown me its possible.

Count Off!

Some say I'm an onion.

Layers and layers.

Ok, it is mostly my co-workers. and roommates. FINE. I get it- I have packed a lot of hobbies and experiences into my 30 years and it takes some time to unfold all the stories, people!

Let me paint you a picture.

I was 15 (and 3/4) and decided to take the adventure of a lifetime. Fortunately, Mom and Dad agreed to let me live on a mountain in Honduras for 2 months of my high school summer. Let me back up. My dear friend Julia had spent the summer before in Australia with Teen Missions International and it more than intrigued me... it motivated me! Before I knew it, it was Honduras or BUST.

A few months, a training boot camp in Florida (not kidding) and LOTS of bug bites later, 30 or so of my newest friends and I were en route on TACA Airlines. Did I mention that, in order to herd 30 + highschoolers, we were forced to "count off" when we needed to account for everyone? Yes. We did that. We were the first team to inhabit that lovely mountain in San Isidro outside of San Pedro Sula. You say you want to see pictures? Oh, OK.

(Team Pic right before we left Florida for Honduras)

(our lovely surroundings)

(I'm in red and rachel is to my right)

and.. because you've been good... a picture of my perma-triangle hair: (I'm not proud)

Fifteen years later, I remember everything vividly. I became proficient at outdoor restroom use, befriended dive-bombing bats that kept me bug-bite free and even became one heck of a whiz with a shovel. After two long months of working the hardest of my life, we were responsible for what would become the entire septic system for the (then) upcoming Honduran Teen Missions Training Center (or whatever the actual name is.)

But if that's all you learn about my trip- you'd be cheated.

Y'all. I changed COMPLETELY on that trip! There wasn't one bit of me left the same. I left a weak little 15 year old whose biggest concern was if "Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman" was going to be a new episode. I left sure of myself, my faith in Jesus and pretty certain I didn't want my life to be "normal." I was also quite certain I didn't want to live any place the Hondurans condemned ever. again.

I was launched into a community of folks that will probably never all be together again. In fact, that occurred to me one day and I remember making a huge effort to soak in the moment. Who knows, though... we may if Facebook has anything to say about it. We were a motley crew. None of us really knew what we were doing- but we braved (what will always be one of the benchmarks of my life) like champs! We, of course, bonded and I am thrilled to say I still keep up with the two most significant friends I made on our adventure!

Rachel and Josh.

Josh lives in Chicago and visiting him in August was the highlight of my summer! Rachel lives in the UK with her hubs. Here's the awesome part- she's in the states visiting her family for the holidays!! EVEN cooler? Her folks live in Mt. Juliet, TN- that is a grand total of roughly 20 miles from me! I get to see her for the first time in 13 years on FRIDAY! We used to write letters faithfully (our friendship pre-dated email, kiddos) and I still remember her childhood street address in Mentor, OH.

Long story, short. I will forever be grateful for that insane summer- complete with the lunacy and importance it brought 15-year-old me. It made me, in a small way, into... me.

Also- there is nothing like an old friend... especially when that friend also dodged a black panther with you in the tropics.

(kissing the ground in Miami upon return to the USA)

By the way... I was number 22.