You must remember this . . . a kiss is still a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh . . .
. . .
There are many bargains to be had in life. But, when it comes to things like toilet paper, you always get what you pay for. Just a little tip to bring you some bliss, comfort, and cheer in 2004.
Okay, moving right along now . . .
Wow. The last day of the year. You know how when you’re a kid you sit there and stare at the clock . . . just waiting and waiting for tomorrow to come. And it takes f-o-r-e-v-e-r. When you’re a little kid, time moves as slowly as beach traffic in July. Ya know? Well, I must be all grown up now ‘cuz time really flies.
As I sit here and type these words, I feel like I should be in a much more reflective and somber mood. After all, this may very well be the last blog I ever write in 2003. (Or maybe ever? You never know.) I should definitely probably leave you some profound pontification to contemplate well into the wee hours of next year. I should tell you something that will change your life forever. I should write something that will rock your world and make you a new person - no turning back. You will never be the same again after you read what I have to say in my blog.
Sorry . . . I think I’m going to have to fail you this time around. Kevin, do you have anything insightful to tell these good and faithful blog-reading people?
Hmmmm . . .
We spent a few moments over the last several days weighing our New Year’s celebration options for tonight. Some of them were tempting but, in the end, we decided to nix them all and just stay home. As boring as that may sound, this born-to-be-wild girl has decided that "home" is the most wonderful place on earth. No matter how small and meager, our home is our castle and we love it.
All that to say . . .
Happy New Year folks! Let the good times roll.
Wednesday, December 31, 2003
Tuesday, December 30, 2003
Huh
CNN reports: "Seahorses are the only species in which the male gets pregnant. Seahorses also perform an elaborate courtship ritual in which the male dances around the female, often for several hours."
Amy reports: "Sounds good to me."
________________________________
I mourn the fact that I was so cocky to report to you that our apartment is so clean and tidy. It amazes me how little time and negligence it takes for our apartment to look like a post-tornado scene.
Found a cute little grocery outlet store last night situated down the street from Kevin's office. You know those Babushkas I was telling you about a few blogs ago? Well, I think that whole neighborhood where Kevin works is a Russian settlement. The grocery outlet was filled with Russian-speaking individuals.
Almost killed myself battling a vicious rain storm after exiting the grocery outlet. Bad memories. But that's enough of that.
Amy reports: "Sounds good to me."
________________________________
I mourn the fact that I was so cocky to report to you that our apartment is so clean and tidy. It amazes me how little time and negligence it takes for our apartment to look like a post-tornado scene.
Found a cute little grocery outlet store last night situated down the street from Kevin's office. You know those Babushkas I was telling you about a few blogs ago? Well, I think that whole neighborhood where Kevin works is a Russian settlement. The grocery outlet was filled with Russian-speaking individuals.
Almost killed myself battling a vicious rain storm after exiting the grocery outlet. Bad memories. But that's enough of that.
Monday, December 29, 2003
Pick-A-Physician Game
Since I’m now in a new city, I have to pick a new doctor. Picking a doctor to be your "primary care physician" when you have no clue who the heck he is (either personally or professionally) can be a very frightening thing. I tend to be more cavalier about picking a doctor than Kevin. When we lived in Virginia, Kevin had a certain condition, which shall remain nameless, and I told him he should probably have it checked out by a doctor - to play it safe. He said he didn’t have a doctor. "Oh, that’s simple," I said. "Just pick one." I didn’t see any problem with just closing your eyes, opening the book to a random page, placing your finger on the page, and picking that lucky doctor to be your own. And, if you really didn’t like him on your first visit, you could just try another one next time!
Sometimes, however, when I go to pick a doctor I don’t treat the task quite so haphazardly. (e.g., closing my eyes and placing my finger on page 44.) Rather, I scan the list to see who has the coolest sounding name. Or, better yet, I start at the top of the list, read the basic stats, form my own judgments based on the stats, and THEN pick a doctor. In Virginia, my doctor’s name was "Anne Brown." I wanted a female doctor and she was the first female name listed, alphabetically, within 15 miles of where I lived. See how simple that is? Of course, it’s a good thing that not all people are as illogical as I am when they go to pick a doctor. Otherwise, Dr. Varughese and Dr. Zarrabi would never get any patients. Duh!
One of the "stats" I take into consideration when picking a doctor is how long they’ve been practicing. For instance, Dr. Hibbard’s stats reveal that he’s been in practice for 45 years! Some people might be attracted to this fact because, probably, he is a very experienced grandfatherly-type doctor. This is all well and fine. But, to me, it means that he’s probably like my dear, elderly childhood doctor . . . Dr. Schneider. Dr. S. was so old that he couldn’t see very well. His glasses were about six inches thick. (Seriously!) I was present in the room when he went to remove a wart off my sister’s hand. By mistake, he removed a freckle next to the wart instead. I still don’t think she’s forgiven him for that unfortunate incident.
So, anyway, the moral of the story is . . . well, I’m not quite sure what it is.
Sometimes, however, when I go to pick a doctor I don’t treat the task quite so haphazardly. (e.g., closing my eyes and placing my finger on page 44.) Rather, I scan the list to see who has the coolest sounding name. Or, better yet, I start at the top of the list, read the basic stats, form my own judgments based on the stats, and THEN pick a doctor. In Virginia, my doctor’s name was "Anne Brown." I wanted a female doctor and she was the first female name listed, alphabetically, within 15 miles of where I lived. See how simple that is? Of course, it’s a good thing that not all people are as illogical as I am when they go to pick a doctor. Otherwise, Dr. Varughese and Dr. Zarrabi would never get any patients. Duh!
One of the "stats" I take into consideration when picking a doctor is how long they’ve been practicing. For instance, Dr. Hibbard’s stats reveal that he’s been in practice for 45 years! Some people might be attracted to this fact because, probably, he is a very experienced grandfatherly-type doctor. This is all well and fine. But, to me, it means that he’s probably like my dear, elderly childhood doctor . . . Dr. Schneider. Dr. S. was so old that he couldn’t see very well. His glasses were about six inches thick. (Seriously!) I was present in the room when he went to remove a wart off my sister’s hand. By mistake, he removed a freckle next to the wart instead. I still don’t think she’s forgiven him for that unfortunate incident.
So, anyway, the moral of the story is . . . well, I’m not quite sure what it is.
Fireglow
Traveling to the homes of loved-ones is sure wonderful. After all the busyness of Christmas, however, it’s nice to be home. Home, with absolutely nothing to do. I love it!
We made sure the house was clean before we left. It was so awesome to come home to a tidy apartment. We lit the fire, got out some snacks and some Martinelli’s. Ahhhhh . . . I think I’m going to really enjoy January. Now that the madness of Christmas is over, the new year has already begun.
And we’ve already made our first resolution - we will light the fireplace more often. There’s just something so marvelously therapeutic about fireglow dancing on the walls around you, smelling the burning wood, contemplating the dying embers.
We made sure the house was clean before we left. It was so awesome to come home to a tidy apartment. We lit the fire, got out some snacks and some Martinelli’s. Ahhhhh . . . I think I’m going to really enjoy January. Now that the madness of Christmas is over, the new year has already begun.
And we’ve already made our first resolution - we will light the fireplace more often. There’s just something so marvelously therapeutic about fireglow dancing on the walls around you, smelling the burning wood, contemplating the dying embers.
Reflections
Christmas celebration this year was like the Energizer battery - it kept going and going and going . . .
Here are highlights of our trip . . .
- Presentation of the Christmas story by Mom and Melissa. Watching mom narrate while little Melissa scrambled to find large pictures depicting various scenes of the story. (Christy was absent for the first part of the story - I later found out that she was putting the finishing touches on a beautiful white scarf she’d knitted for me. That is SO Christy - my dear last-minute, live-by-the-seat-of-your-pants sister.)
- A "car fight" (remote control cars) between Christy, Kevin, and David. (This was actually very funny.)
- Driving along the coast to Santa Maria in the rain.
- Taking a walk with Melissa, wherein she found a naked little doll in a gutter and insisted she rescue it, give it a bath, and keep it.
- Presents under the tree, opened. (One of the coolest things we got are those little motorized toothbrushes.)
- Sneaking to the bathroom to get my hair straightened by Betsy.
- Seeing my newborn first cousin, once removed, for the first time. Meeting a cousin-in-law for the first time. (They drove from Houston - it took them eleven hours just to get out of Texas!)
- Bunny rabbit loose in the house.
- Grandma’s pecan brittle. There is simply no substitute. Yum.
- Watching Count of Monte Cristo until 4 AM.
- Going to mom’s favorite place in the world (all the kids roll their eyes) . . . Solvang!!
- Coffee date with friends.
- Driving with one of my best friends, Christy Williams, in her cute little red convertible, top down, sunshine, wind, hair in your face, heater on full blast . . . gotta love it.
- Experiencing "orange alert" conditions at LAX, missing our early flight home, waiting on standby, finally arriving in Sacramento safe, sound, and a little harried.
Here are highlights of our trip . . .
- Presentation of the Christmas story by Mom and Melissa. Watching mom narrate while little Melissa scrambled to find large pictures depicting various scenes of the story. (Christy was absent for the first part of the story - I later found out that she was putting the finishing touches on a beautiful white scarf she’d knitted for me. That is SO Christy - my dear last-minute, live-by-the-seat-of-your-pants sister.)
- A "car fight" (remote control cars) between Christy, Kevin, and David. (This was actually very funny.)
- Driving along the coast to Santa Maria in the rain.
- Taking a walk with Melissa, wherein she found a naked little doll in a gutter and insisted she rescue it, give it a bath, and keep it.
- Presents under the tree, opened. (One of the coolest things we got are those little motorized toothbrushes.)
- Sneaking to the bathroom to get my hair straightened by Betsy.
- Seeing my newborn first cousin, once removed, for the first time. Meeting a cousin-in-law for the first time. (They drove from Houston - it took them eleven hours just to get out of Texas!)
- Bunny rabbit loose in the house.
- Grandma’s pecan brittle. There is simply no substitute. Yum.
- Watching Count of Monte Cristo until 4 AM.
- Going to mom’s favorite place in the world (all the kids roll their eyes) . . . Solvang!!
- Coffee date with friends.
- Driving with one of my best friends, Christy Williams, in her cute little red convertible, top down, sunshine, wind, hair in your face, heater on full blast . . . gotta love it.
- Experiencing "orange alert" conditions at LAX, missing our early flight home, waiting on standby, finally arriving in Sacramento safe, sound, and a little harried.
Tuesday, December 23, 2003
Amy the Romantic
Before I married her, I never realized that Amy was such a romantic. She was the woman who was going to be a lawyer, run for president, take over the world, didn't have time to be bothered with boys or romance, etc. But something seems to have changed.
As you probably have guessed by now, the vast majority of these blog entries have been posted by Amy. In fact, I think this might be only my second blog entry. It's been very educational to see our life through Amy's eyes in this blog. Her romantic imagination often colors her perception of events---a rose color, perhaps---but colored nonetheless.
For example, in her recent blog entry about our ice skating outing she states: "It was fun to skate to the Christmas music, with the big, starry sky above us." Now, had you been present with us, you would have observed that the sky last night was overcast and a dense fog had rolled in. But Amy's rose-colored perception romanticized a dark, overcast night into a big, starry one.
Marriage has somehow transformed Amy the Warrior into Amy the Romantic, which I quite like, I must confess.
As you probably have guessed by now, the vast majority of these blog entries have been posted by Amy. In fact, I think this might be only my second blog entry. It's been very educational to see our life through Amy's eyes in this blog. Her romantic imagination often colors her perception of events---a rose color, perhaps---but colored nonetheless.
For example, in her recent blog entry about our ice skating outing she states: "It was fun to skate to the Christmas music, with the big, starry sky above us." Now, had you been present with us, you would have observed that the sky last night was overcast and a dense fog had rolled in. But Amy's rose-colored perception romanticized a dark, overcast night into a big, starry one.
Marriage has somehow transformed Amy the Warrior into Amy the Romantic, which I quite like, I must confess.
Trekking
Tonight we board a plane for Los Angeles. It’s only an hour flight. It will be nice not to have to make the six hour drive. Tomorrow we will journey to the central coast to my uncle’s house in Santa Maria for the holiday.
In case you didn’t know, Santa Maria, a town of 75,000, is where Michael Jackson will be indicted and stand trial. Santa Maria is also approximately 50 miles south of the epicenter of yesterday’s earthquake. I have yet to hear whether or not my extended family has been affected by the recent quake. Probably not - or someone would have called us by now.
Speaking of which, I actually enjoy a "good" earthquake, when it’s not destructive. I was disappointed we didn’t really feel it here in Sac. Kevin, to my surprise, was disappointed also. I think that’s one of the novelties about California. You probably can’t really be a Californian until you’ve felt an earthquake. ;) We have yet to initiate Kevin into the club.
Anyways, the point of this whole blog (although I really got off track) is to . . .
wish you a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS and a HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
Feliz Navidad y Próspero Año Nuevo
Frohe Weihnachten und ein gl|ckliches Neues Jahr!
Joyeux Noel et Bonne Année!
S nastupaiushchim Novym godom i s Rozhdestvom Khristovym!
Buon Natale e Felice Anno Nuovo!
Meri Kurisumasu soshite Akemashite Omedeto!
Shen tan jie kuai le. Hsin Nien Kuaile
(inupik) Jutdlime pivdluarit ukiortame pivdluaritlo!
(Okay I think that takes care of all of you! The last one was for my Eskimo friends - I love you guys!!)
In case you didn’t know, Santa Maria, a town of 75,000, is where Michael Jackson will be indicted and stand trial. Santa Maria is also approximately 50 miles south of the epicenter of yesterday’s earthquake. I have yet to hear whether or not my extended family has been affected by the recent quake. Probably not - or someone would have called us by now.
Speaking of which, I actually enjoy a "good" earthquake, when it’s not destructive. I was disappointed we didn’t really feel it here in Sac. Kevin, to my surprise, was disappointed also. I think that’s one of the novelties about California. You probably can’t really be a Californian until you’ve felt an earthquake. ;) We have yet to initiate Kevin into the club.
Anyways, the point of this whole blog (although I really got off track) is to . . .
wish you a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS and a HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
Feliz Navidad y Próspero Año Nuevo
Frohe Weihnachten und ein gl|ckliches Neues Jahr!
Joyeux Noel et Bonne Année!
S nastupaiushchim Novym godom i s Rozhdestvom Khristovym!
Buon Natale e Felice Anno Nuovo!
Meri Kurisumasu soshite Akemashite Omedeto!
Shen tan jie kuai le. Hsin Nien Kuaile
(inupik) Jutdlime pivdluarit ukiortame pivdluaritlo!
(Okay I think that takes care of all of you! The last one was for my Eskimo friends - I love you guys!!)
Two More Days ‘Til Christmas!
Believe it or not, there is an outdoor ice rink in downtown Sacramento. It seemed like such a cheery holiday thing to do, so we dug our skates out of the closet last night and headed to the rink. We both enjoy ice skating but Kevin is the only one among us who’s had proper lessons. You’ll have to ask him sometime about his practice of twirling in the hallway and how he wore out the sole of his shoe. But don’t tell him I told you to ask!
During the car ride, Kevin expressed apprehension at going to the K Street mall to skate. Last time we were at this outdoor mall we experienced near-assaults from several homeless crazies. "What do you think they’ll do to you? Mock you and pelt you with rocks while you skate?," I asked. (Sounds like a freakish nightmare - skating on hazy white with homeless people surrounding you, moving in on you with rocks in hand, and taunting you.)
The homeless people, though we saw a few of them, were all very polite and seemed in good spirits. They must be collecting good donations from the streetfolk during this holiday season. (Plus, if you HAD to be homeless, Sacramento is not a bad place to be during the winter!)
We very much enjoyed our evening skate. It was fun to skate to the Christmas music, with the big, starry sky above us. The rink was crowded with lovers and little kids - but it was fun. There was one little boy in particular who was having the time of his life. He was very cute. His body was soaked from falling in the ice and I thought his mouth would fall off from smiling so much. Hanging with kids often makes me feel like one myself.
During the car ride, Kevin expressed apprehension at going to the K Street mall to skate. Last time we were at this outdoor mall we experienced near-assaults from several homeless crazies. "What do you think they’ll do to you? Mock you and pelt you with rocks while you skate?," I asked. (Sounds like a freakish nightmare - skating on hazy white with homeless people surrounding you, moving in on you with rocks in hand, and taunting you.)
The homeless people, though we saw a few of them, were all very polite and seemed in good spirits. They must be collecting good donations from the streetfolk during this holiday season. (Plus, if you HAD to be homeless, Sacramento is not a bad place to be during the winter!)
We very much enjoyed our evening skate. It was fun to skate to the Christmas music, with the big, starry sky above us. The rink was crowded with lovers and little kids - but it was fun. There was one little boy in particular who was having the time of his life. He was very cute. His body was soaked from falling in the ice and I thought his mouth would fall off from smiling so much. Hanging with kids often makes me feel like one myself.
Monday, December 22, 2003
Endangered Species
How can you be an environmentalist and an evolutionist simultaneously? How can you justify spending billions in resources on saving all the endangered muskrats in the world and, at the same time, believe that only the fittest survive and extinction is a necessary and natural consequence of evolution? I just don’t get it. Can someone help me understand? Am I totally misunderstanding something here?
A specie that is about to be extinct is the all-American cowboy. Over the weekend, I called my mom to get more Christmas gift ideas for my little brother, eight-years-old. She told me that lately he’s been asking for a cowboy hat, holster and gun. In fact, he’s been asking for this stuff repeatedly and REALLY would like to have it. "Great," I thought, "No problem - that’s what we’ll get for him."
First, we went to Toys R Us. We looked high and low to find anything in the cowboy genre. Finally I asked a sales associate and he told me they had nothing cowboy-related in the whole store. What?! Impossible. Isn’t cowboys and Indians what every little boy has role-played for the last century and more?!! That is when I realized how politically incorrect my brother’s Christmas wish was. I mean, guns are EVIL. Right? And, cowboys only represent destructive white aggression toward defenseless Indians. Right?
Political correctness has gone way too far. I’m so sick of it.
We next went to K.B. Toys. Nope - no cowboy stuff there either. Not even a cowboy HAT for heaven’s sake! Oh, but we did see an Indian tomahawk and native, feathered headgear. It’s probably not a violation of politically correct thinking for a store to carry Indian paraphernalia. After all, they are the oppressed ones, modern historians tell us.
Oh brother.
____________________________________
Speaking of cowboys . . . this reminds me of something.
Kevin’s grandma gave me a present when we saw her at Thanksgiving. It was a little cowboy about six inches tall with red and blue beaded legs and arms, a big smiley face, a red hat and boots, and a lasso. Apparently Kevin gave it to grandpa when he was five-years-old and lived in San Antonio. He picked it out especially for grandpa and bought it with his own allowance money. I just thought it was all very cute. Someone asked Kevin why he got a cowboy, of all things. Kevin got defensive and said, "I lived in TEXAS."
Maybe Toys R Us and K.B. Toys in Texas would carry cowboy paraphernalia. Let's hope!
____________________________________
I now realize how rambled-scrambled this whole blog is. But, hey, that’s what blogs are for - the random journaling of haphazard thought.
Ta, ta for now!
A specie that is about to be extinct is the all-American cowboy. Over the weekend, I called my mom to get more Christmas gift ideas for my little brother, eight-years-old. She told me that lately he’s been asking for a cowboy hat, holster and gun. In fact, he’s been asking for this stuff repeatedly and REALLY would like to have it. "Great," I thought, "No problem - that’s what we’ll get for him."
First, we went to Toys R Us. We looked high and low to find anything in the cowboy genre. Finally I asked a sales associate and he told me they had nothing cowboy-related in the whole store. What?! Impossible. Isn’t cowboys and Indians what every little boy has role-played for the last century and more?!! That is when I realized how politically incorrect my brother’s Christmas wish was. I mean, guns are EVIL. Right? And, cowboys only represent destructive white aggression toward defenseless Indians. Right?
Political correctness has gone way too far. I’m so sick of it.
We next went to K.B. Toys. Nope - no cowboy stuff there either. Not even a cowboy HAT for heaven’s sake! Oh, but we did see an Indian tomahawk and native, feathered headgear. It’s probably not a violation of politically correct thinking for a store to carry Indian paraphernalia. After all, they are the oppressed ones, modern historians tell us.
Oh brother.
____________________________________
Speaking of cowboys . . . this reminds me of something.
Kevin’s grandma gave me a present when we saw her at Thanksgiving. It was a little cowboy about six inches tall with red and blue beaded legs and arms, a big smiley face, a red hat and boots, and a lasso. Apparently Kevin gave it to grandpa when he was five-years-old and lived in San Antonio. He picked it out especially for grandpa and bought it with his own allowance money. I just thought it was all very cute. Someone asked Kevin why he got a cowboy, of all things. Kevin got defensive and said, "I lived in TEXAS."
Maybe Toys R Us and K.B. Toys in Texas would carry cowboy paraphernalia. Let's hope!
____________________________________
I now realize how rambled-scrambled this whole blog is. But, hey, that’s what blogs are for - the random journaling of haphazard thought.
Ta, ta for now!
Friday, December 19, 2003
Perfect Gifts for Kevin and Amy
Well, both of us took that little survey on getting perfect gifts for others. I did one for Kevin. He did one for me. The results: Kevin is the artsy, intelligent type. Amy is the "overstimulated" type. Thus, according to the survey, Amy should get Kevin tickets to the Opera or Ballet; Kevin should get Amy chocolate covered espresso beans. :-P
So . . . we're off to shop!
So . . . we're off to shop!
"If ever I would leave you, it wouldn't be in Springtime . . . "
" . . . seeing you in Sprintgime, I never could go! Oh no, not in Sprintime, Summer, Winter, or Fall. No, never would I leave you at all . . . " La, di, da, di, da . . .
Okay, I have a confession to make . . . (Confession of a Tired Woman) we skipped bible study last night and watched Camelot instead. I know, I know . . . We are so BAD.
I have just one question: Why do movies made in the 60s and 70s look so DATED? Camelot was made in 1960. The story of King Arthur is supposed to take place in 6th Century AD. Why do all the hairstyles - and even the costumes - in Camelot look like they come out of a 1960s Vogue catalogue?
Okay, I have a confession to make . . . (Confession of a Tired Woman) we skipped bible study last night and watched Camelot instead. I know, I know . . . We are so BAD.
I have just one question: Why do movies made in the 60s and 70s look so DATED? Camelot was made in 1960. The story of King Arthur is supposed to take place in 6th Century AD. Why do all the hairstyles - and even the costumes - in Camelot look like they come out of a 1960s Vogue catalogue?
Touching Moment
A sweet-sounding 11-year-old girl called into Dennis Prager’s show this morning.
Little girl: (with a small voice) Why are people so downtrodden during the holidays?
Dennis: You mean, why are they so sad?
Girl: Yes.
Dennis: You know, I wonder about that myself. What do you think?
Girl: I just don’t know. I mean, my dad left my mom when I was very little and her family has disowned her. They hate her. She never had anybody to be with her during the holidays or celebrate with. And we have always been so happy. We’ve always had good times.
Don’t know why exactly but - to me - this little interchange was so touching. Here is a single mom and a little girl who are focusing on what they have - not on what they don’t have. And, that makes them happy. What a great lesson from the lips of a child.
Turns out the little girl was homeschooled. Good plug for homeschooling! Yea!
Little girl: (with a small voice) Why are people so downtrodden during the holidays?
Dennis: You mean, why are they so sad?
Girl: Yes.
Dennis: You know, I wonder about that myself. What do you think?
Girl: I just don’t know. I mean, my dad left my mom when I was very little and her family has disowned her. They hate her. She never had anybody to be with her during the holidays or celebrate with. And we have always been so happy. We’ve always had good times.
Don’t know why exactly but - to me - this little interchange was so touching. Here is a single mom and a little girl who are focusing on what they have - not on what they don’t have. And, that makes them happy. What a great lesson from the lips of a child.
Turns out the little girl was homeschooled. Good plug for homeschooling! Yea!
For the Perplexed Shopper
Let me just say that this is pretty cool . . .
Quiz: How to find the perfect gift for someone who's impossible to shop for
http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2003/holiday.shopping/holiday.quiz.html
Quiz: How to find the perfect gift for someone who's impossible to shop for
http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2003/holiday.shopping/holiday.quiz.html
Thursday, December 18, 2003
Madness and Insanity
Both Kevin and I agree that Christmas is filled with way too much madness and materialism. As much as I LOVE Christmas, this year I'm actually looking forward to the New Year. (Can't believe I put that in writing!) Ugh. Last night for instance, we went to the mall to do some shopping. It was the first "free" night we've had in over a week. We were both exhausted from the day's activities and getting minimal sleep for the last month. Neither of us had done any shopping for each other - we'd spent most of our time, energy and resources on other things and people. (Which, hey, that's great! We love Christmas festivity and we especially love the "significant others" in our lives.) As we stood gazing at the madness around us in the crowded mall, we looked at each other and both agreed that it all was so INSANE. So, if we get around to going out to shop sometime before Christmas - great. Fabulous. If not - that's great too. Wonderful!!
We left the mall and went for a drive to see the lights of the "Fabulous Forties" instead. There were a lot of really creative light arrangements in this artsy district. We were very impressed, actually. Our evening was filled with exclamations of, "Ooh, I like that one" and "Oh! Look at that!" One house was all dolled-up with Disney characters and other cartoons. It had a big "list" on the front yard that said "Good Boys and Girls." I told Kevin to stop the car so I could go put our names on the list. I took my pen and wrote "Kevin and Amy Koons" right in the center of the list.
I've decided that Santa can do the shopping for us this year. We've tried really hard to be good.
We left the mall and went for a drive to see the lights of the "Fabulous Forties" instead. There were a lot of really creative light arrangements in this artsy district. We were very impressed, actually. Our evening was filled with exclamations of, "Ooh, I like that one" and "Oh! Look at that!" One house was all dolled-up with Disney characters and other cartoons. It had a big "list" on the front yard that said "Good Boys and Girls." I told Kevin to stop the car so I could go put our names on the list. I took my pen and wrote "Kevin and Amy Koons" right in the center of the list.
I've decided that Santa can do the shopping for us this year. We've tried really hard to be good.
10 Places to See Before You Die
MSNBC reports that there are 10 places that you must see before you die. This list of 10 places was apparently whittled down from a list of 1,000 must-see places. Upon reading the list, I realized that I need to get busy! If God allows me to live an average lifespan, I only have 54 years left to accomplish all these things.
http://msnbc.msn.com/Default.aspx?id=3675363&p1=0
1. Jaisalmer (Rajasthan, India)
2. Highland Games (Braemar, Scotland)
3. Giant’s Causeway (Bushmills, Antrim, Northern Ireland)
4. Moscow Metro (Moscow, Russia)
5. Cha Ca La Vong (Hanoi, Vietnam) - this sounds very gross!
6. Chuuk Lagoon’s (Lost Fleet Chuuk, Micronesia)
7. El Questro Wilderness Park (Kimberley, Australia)
8. Sturgis Motorcycle Rally (Sturgis, South Dakota) - ha!
9. Mercado De Hechiceria (La Paz, Bolivia)
10.Diving with Manta Rays (Tobago, Lesser Antilles) - this sounds cool but scary!
http://msnbc.msn.com/Default.aspx?id=3675363&p1=0
1. Jaisalmer (Rajasthan, India)
2. Highland Games (Braemar, Scotland)
3. Giant’s Causeway (Bushmills, Antrim, Northern Ireland)
4. Moscow Metro (Moscow, Russia)
5. Cha Ca La Vong (Hanoi, Vietnam) - this sounds very gross!
6. Chuuk Lagoon’s (Lost Fleet Chuuk, Micronesia)
7. El Questro Wilderness Park (Kimberley, Australia)
8. Sturgis Motorcycle Rally (Sturgis, South Dakota) - ha!
9. Mercado De Hechiceria (La Paz, Bolivia)
10.Diving with Manta Rays (Tobago, Lesser Antilles) - this sounds cool but scary!
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
Capitol Christmas
The rotunda of the Capitol building has taken on a sacred air for the holidays. This morning, as I neared the entrance of the rotunda, I slowed my gait and my senses took inventory of the wondrous sights surrounding me. In the dim of the room, I beheld wreaths and boughs of greenery with red ribbon draped across the balconies. Passersby whispered observations that echoed throughout the room. Despite the whispers, the room seemed silent. The faces of Columbus and Queen Isabella seemed contemplative - as they gazed into the poinsettia below them. After leaving the sanctuary of the rotunda, I proceeded through the heavy wooden doors to the front lawn of the Capitol. There, a cheery, decorated Christmas tree greeted me. I love little glimpses of Christmas, like this.
The state Capitol really is a beautiful place. It saddens me that so much wickedness and evildoing goes on inside its great walls. Why must man always corrupt something beautiful? Until Christ returns to judge the world, corruption and depravity will continue. I can only pray that, where there is darkness, God’s people can be present and courageous to represent His light and truth. Evil may triumph for a moment but Truth will ultimately prevail. That is my hope for the future.
The state Capitol really is a beautiful place. It saddens me that so much wickedness and evildoing goes on inside its great walls. Why must man always corrupt something beautiful? Until Christ returns to judge the world, corruption and depravity will continue. I can only pray that, where there is darkness, God’s people can be present and courageous to represent His light and truth. Evil may triumph for a moment but Truth will ultimately prevail. That is my hope for the future.
Glutton for Punishment
Got a weird call yesterday. This women, in very broken English, called and asked if I would participate in a phone survey about fast food restaurants. What can I say? I’m a sucker. It wasn’t that I had time for this - or even cared. Maybe I was flattered that someone wanted my opinion about something. I was busy finishing my Grand Cookie Project and figured I could talk on the phone and keep busy at the same time. WRONG. The blasted survey lasted about 20 minutes until I cut it short. I finally hung up on her because she LIED to me. She told me she only had three questions left. I decided to consent to suffer through three more questions on the merits of McDonalds, Wendys, and Pizza Hut. After all, she probably works on commission. And, it’s Christmas.
But, after the third question, she had the nerve to ask a fourth one. That was it. I was very annoyed and confronted her about her fabrication. I just hate when people lie to me. I have zero tolerance for that kind of behavior.
But, after the third question, she had the nerve to ask a fourth one. That was it. I was very annoyed and confronted her about her fabrication. I just hate when people lie to me. I have zero tolerance for that kind of behavior.
Hey, nice barber you have . . .
Ha! Last night, one of the guys in Kevin’s chorale complimented him on his nice haircut and said that his hair always looks so good. He asked him who cuts it. Kevin replied, "My wife."
"Does she charge?," he asked.
"Not for me!," said Kevin.
"Is she a professional hair stylist?," he asked.
"No," said Kevin, "She just watched a video on how to cut hair and made me her guinea pig."
You must understand, it takes a great step of faith for Kevin to allow Amy to approach his hair with scissors. We have both shed tears over this issue. Amy, feeling incompetent. And Kevin, feeling sorry for his critiques of the final product. So, now Amy feels very vindicated.
Amy is *GLOWING* right now.
"Does she charge?," he asked.
"Not for me!," said Kevin.
"Is she a professional hair stylist?," he asked.
"No," said Kevin, "She just watched a video on how to cut hair and made me her guinea pig."
You must understand, it takes a great step of faith for Kevin to allow Amy to approach his hair with scissors. We have both shed tears over this issue. Amy, feeling incompetent. And Kevin, feeling sorry for his critiques of the final product. So, now Amy feels very vindicated.
Amy is *GLOWING* right now.
Kevin 'N Kenny
Last night was very interesting, to say the least. I just cannot believe how indescribably embarrassing grown women can be. "I LOVE YOU KENNY" was shouted out numerous times. I mean, I realize there may be some male performers out there who are worth wasting your vocal chords and getting excited over. But, Kenny? C’mon! And, he can’t even really sing. Get a life gals!
This reminds me of my dear 19-year-old sister. I don’t understand why she’s attracted to Harrison Ford either. He’s old enough to be her grandfather. I will admit - in his prime, he was one of those attractive, manly times and I can understand a single girl having a crush on him. But NOW? Now he is a wrinkled, full-bellied, old, cocky has-been. Get over him.
What was even more amazing about last night is the fact that people actually paid $100 per ticket to sit in the first 10 rows. I paid $25 for my ticket - my seat was way up in the peanut gallery. But, I was close enough to see Kevin. And, after all, that’s why I went.
Speaking of which, I thought I was going to be disappointed because, for the first several pieces, the chorale sang behind this translucent curtain. Then, when they finally made their entrance onto the actual stage, Kevin was positioned behind a tree. Drat! I thought to myself, "I paid $25 to see Kevin stand behind a tree with his hair poking out at the top?" But eventually, he was able to move away from the tree.
The funniest part of the event was when Kenny got 12 volunteers on stage to sing "The 12 Days of Christmas." Their voices, for the most part, were TERRIBLE and Kenny had a hay day making fun of them. Then, he had the volunteers act out their parts - milking maids, leapings lords, etc. That was also very funny.
Otherwise, the night was uneventful. Oh - except for the fact that I accidently threw away my ticket before I entered the building. I threw it into a big trash can outside the entrance. When I realized I threw it away, I was mortified. I immediately lifted the heavy lid off the trash and plunged almost my entire body into the trash can to fish out my ticket. It was a most embarrassing moment. But all I could think of, at the time, was that I had to get my ticket out before someone threw their burrito on it. Finally, I rescued my ticket from the depths of the trash can. And I was pretty much unscathed from the event.
Whew! After that experience, I figured I could handle whatever else the evening threw my way.
This reminds me of my dear 19-year-old sister. I don’t understand why she’s attracted to Harrison Ford either. He’s old enough to be her grandfather. I will admit - in his prime, he was one of those attractive, manly times and I can understand a single girl having a crush on him. But NOW? Now he is a wrinkled, full-bellied, old, cocky has-been. Get over him.
What was even more amazing about last night is the fact that people actually paid $100 per ticket to sit in the first 10 rows. I paid $25 for my ticket - my seat was way up in the peanut gallery. But, I was close enough to see Kevin. And, after all, that’s why I went.
Speaking of which, I thought I was going to be disappointed because, for the first several pieces, the chorale sang behind this translucent curtain. Then, when they finally made their entrance onto the actual stage, Kevin was positioned behind a tree. Drat! I thought to myself, "I paid $25 to see Kevin stand behind a tree with his hair poking out at the top?" But eventually, he was able to move away from the tree.
The funniest part of the event was when Kenny got 12 volunteers on stage to sing "The 12 Days of Christmas." Their voices, for the most part, were TERRIBLE and Kenny had a hay day making fun of them. Then, he had the volunteers act out their parts - milking maids, leapings lords, etc. That was also very funny.
Otherwise, the night was uneventful. Oh - except for the fact that I accidently threw away my ticket before I entered the building. I threw it into a big trash can outside the entrance. When I realized I threw it away, I was mortified. I immediately lifted the heavy lid off the trash and plunged almost my entire body into the trash can to fish out my ticket. It was a most embarrassing moment. But all I could think of, at the time, was that I had to get my ticket out before someone threw their burrito on it. Finally, I rescued my ticket from the depths of the trash can. And I was pretty much unscathed from the event.
Whew! After that experience, I figured I could handle whatever else the evening threw my way.
Tuesday, December 16, 2003
Knitting
Christy: "I learned how to knit this weekend. It's fun - you should learn how. You get to be creative AND you get a finished product, meanwhile it's a mindless activity that you can do while watching tv or listening to something or when you're in the car (though I don't recommend it while driving) or on a bus or at the beach or in a line somewhere.... there are endless opportunities."
It was somewhat surprising to me to learn today that my chic sister, Christy, has taken up the skill of knitting. Apparently another chic person I know, my aunt Carol, has been teaching her. I'm glad to hear that really cool, hip people like these two have ascribed to the hobby of knitting. It's a fabulous thing that knitting is no longer generally considered a pastime for the old and feeble. I love people who break the barriers of orthodox thinking. Go Christy!
It was somewhat surprising to me to learn today that my chic sister, Christy, has taken up the skill of knitting. Apparently another chic person I know, my aunt Carol, has been teaching her. I'm glad to hear that really cool, hip people like these two have ascribed to the hobby of knitting. It's a fabulous thing that knitting is no longer generally considered a pastime for the old and feeble. I love people who break the barriers of orthodox thinking. Go Christy!
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