February 28, 2007

what I mean when I say, "it's been one of those days..."

First off, I would like to make known that I disapprove of "people" being referred to as "accessories", as stated in a sentence on this morning's traffic report: Tickets are being issued to drivers in the HOV lane without their accessory person.

for the love.

Warning! Red light indicators flashing on your car's dashboard actually DO require immediate attention. Slow down, pull over, call for help. If you don't, your car WILL break down. If not immediately, eventually. And at the worst possible moment.

Special thanks to the following for making this day bareable: Buddy at Bailey's Wrecker Service, for being precisely on time. I hear that never happens. He was also a very pleasant conversationalist. Also to Al at Crest Honda for the friendly taxi service from Crest to my office. He even stopped at Maggie's Cafe in Brentwood for me so I could get some lunch! Now THAT'S service. One to Bud - my Crest Honda serviceman. Friendly, reliable, and efficient. And one more to the City of Gallatin for making the Conference Drive exit off Vietnam Vets such a convenient place to pull over. Hats off to those precious tax payers.

I've never had a more pleasant break-down experience. Thanks guys!

This has been a public service announcement of fortheluv dot blogspot dot com

I cannot end this post without sending out a congratulations to Irnel: MetroCenter Taco Bell's "champion of the week". Ya'll go on out there and patron this young man (?) for the exceptional work he is doing. I'm sure it'll be one of the best tacos you'll ever eat.

This just in: it has come to my attention that with the retirement of president Milton Sewell of Freed-Hardeman University, a change to the student handbook has been implemented. Students are now allowed to wear shorts to class.
Those liberals.
They can also wear distressed jeans, but only those without holes.
Nope, still conservative.
It is uncomfirmed if this change is directly related to the resignation of Pres. Sewell.
Conspiracy? You decide.

February 27, 2007

condemned is the new trendy

I used to think this building was empty and condemned.

Turns out it's one of Nashville's budding hotspots for the young, upwardly-mobile. (Please pronounce that last word with the long i sound.)

Go figure. I mean, we're all modern in our own time, working towards a day when we will be worn out and broken. How nice that we can marry the two with such artistic irony.

February 26, 2007


Does any remember those old perfume commercials (can't remember the brand, so it must have been a worthy marketing investment) that said, "If you like Giorgio...you'll LOVE Some ridiculously cheap dime store knock-off!" (or whatever the name of said knock-off was. Probably something cheezy like Lavendar Bayspray or what not.) Anyways, this is my incredibly prestigous introduction to my newest Bloggroller, drumroll....

If you like For The Love by Emily, then you LOVE For Lack of a Better Word by Holly Wynne!
Holly is the kind of writer I aspire to be. I can't even believe I am promoting her site since I am sure I will lose most of you once you start reading her blog. She posts more often than I do, and she's just plain better at it. I am, as you will soon discover, the poor blogger's version of Holly.

She's also a little bit cooler than I am in many ways. She has been a self-proclaimed post-modern hippie for the last 13 years, which undeniably led to her (a) better taste in music, and (b) flare for all things comfortable. She also has cool initials, which you may feel free to refer to her by: hwy. Her life is a hwy. Wait, I hear a Tom Cochrane song playing. She will also tell you she dreams a hwy. In this dream, she hears a Gillian Welch song playing.

So click on over to her brand new page to get your uber-fab blog-fix, and don't cry or whine if this is the only post you hear from me all week. I'm a busy girl. Good grief. Don't you people have jobs to go to?

February 24, 2007

my saturday morning mug

This is my Saturday morning coffee mug. It is imperative that this mug be available to me for my Saturday morning coffee. I bought this mug about 5 years ago. At a thrift store on Nolensville Road. It was somewhere in the valuable neighberhood of .64 cents. I love this mug. I once took it to work so I could drink from it every day. But it seemed that everytime I put it in the dishwasher overnight at work, someone would come along before me and claim it for their own each day. This burned me. And it birthed a variety of personal moral implications. For instance, "why does this burn me so much?" or "why can't I share this wonderful gift of a mug with others around me?" Also, "is this mug not really mine, but a fruit of the many blessings showered over me by my abundantly giving God?" "Wouldn't He want me to share this mug with the least of these?" Further, "does not wanting to share my mug with others define me on the deepest of interior levels as a selfish, uncompromising embodiment of Id that is incapable of sharing those things which are more intrinsically and fundamentally meaningful?" It was somewhere around the word 'embodiment' that I decided I was over-analyzing and got over it. So what if I have a mug? So what if I don't want others to use it.

It became clear that having this mug at work - exposing it to the risk of mug-snatching - was both unfair to the mug and my soul. I took the mug home.

This morning, my roommate was about to pour her daily morning tea into my Saturday morning mug. She left the kitchen while the tea was boiling, and there sat my mug on the kitchen counter holding a tea bag, waiting for its contents. At the same time, my coffee is dripping and almost ready to be the contents of this mug.

As stealth as the night steals the dusk, I switched out my mug and slipped her tea bag into another, more suitable mug for her tea. When she returned to the kitchen to find a white mug waiting for her rather than a green, she barely batted an eyelash. You see, I knew I can maneuver this because my roommate rarely has an opinion about such mundane and inconsequential issues. She is just happy to have a mug. She is a better woman than I am I suppose. I even love her for it.

I may have overreacted.

February 23, 2007

worst friends E-V-E-R

Q: Wow, you ask for love, support, and a little creative-license, and what do you get?

A: Only the most humiliating confirmation from your truest of true friends that you are officially 'weird'.

Life Lesson Learned: never post a one-question survey where the answers from your greater readership will most assuredly determine and confirm your worst possible nightmare. No, I am not speaking of limb amputation this time. I am specifically referring to that common human thread which binds us all together in perfect insecurity: the dreaded, "am I weird?" question.

Yes. I am. And you know what? I embrace it. If preferring pancakes with no syrup throws me outside of the social breakfast circles of the world, then so be it.

I don't need your stinking approval anyways.

can't wait until tomorrow...I'm so in the mood for a good old-fashioned dry pancake. mmmm....
if anyone wants to partake, breakfast will be served at my place around 9am. BYOS. I think you know what I mean.

February 22, 2007

survey: is this weird?

Not the fact that I have a Saturday tradition of making and consuming M&M pancakes, but the fact that I need not deluge them in this sugary-cornstarchy-gooey-mess known as:

I mean, even if there are no M&M's in the pancakes, I like them without syrup. I definitely eat them without butter. Sometimes I like to dip them in syrup. But most of the time I abstain.

I have been disparaged in this matter. I need a little love.

Can I get an amen?

February 08, 2007

Job 1:21

"Naked I came from my mother's womb
And naked I will depart.
The Lord gives and the Lord takes away.
May the name of the Lord by praised."

I found out this morning, much after the fact, that my downstairs neighbor, Eric Falk, passed away last Friday morning at the young age of 35. His wife, Amanda, at 26, is too young to be a widow. I really hurt for her and the rest of his family.

Eric knew almost everyone in our apartment complex. Eric was the missions pastor at Christ Church. Eric touched alot of people in his very short life. I am going to miss seeing him here. But not half as much as those who really knew and loved him. Not half as much as Amanda, or his niece & nephew, or his mother, or the church he humbly served. Eric was one of those people you can't understand losing, because they were making such a big difference in so many lives. But I believe that God has been glorified, not only in Eric's life, but in his death. And that, I keep reminding myself, is what it's really all about.

February 02, 2007

take that davidson county snow-haters!

Views from my bedroom window and my back patio this morning. I love snow. It would come on a day though that I'm already off from work and was planning to drive 4 hours east.
I'll take it whenever I can get it though.

birthday flowers

I tried to add these to my original birthday post yesterday, but Blogger would not let me. I finally downloaded Mozilla Firefox like my sister recommended, and VOILA!

February 01, 2007

best birthday ever

The older I get, the more I am a proponent for extended birthday celebrating. In fact, I've grown to believe that the entire month of January exists like a box that holds this timeless phenomenon known as 'my birthday'.

Not really.

So since said phenomenon occurred on a Monday, we naturally got this party started on the previous Friday. I believe the time was approximately 10:03 when the first batch of birthday flowers came knocking on my door at work. Such scandal was caused in the office that I was forced to feign productivity for the rest of the day! When interrogated by each passerby as to the mysterious origination of this fragrant gift, I coyly made note that I had secretly eloped with a foreign world power agent. The story grew with each new visitor, until finally I was married to the mafia and already expecting my third child.

Not really.

Friday night brought dinner and a movie with aformentioned foreign world power agent. Saturday night brought me a homemade dinner and birthday strawberry trifle made by my personal Top Chef and big sister. Sunday brought lunch with good friends - some I never get to see because they live too far away. Sunday night brought dinner with additional good friends, and a hearty rendition of Happy Birthday sung off-key by the entire Franklin Cracker Barrell dining room.

Transition to the big day...

Monday was the icing on the allegorical birthday cake. No work and all play makes birthday girl happy all day. Big sister brought second batch of birthday flowers - 30 roses in pink, red and peach, compliments of those 2 crazy kids responsible for the last 30 years of my life. Then she whisked me away her in sleek green mommy-car to Mere Bulles, where we used our personal connections to score primo seats by the crackling fireplace. MB has the best crab bisque in town, by the way. That is something that must be said anytime this restaurant comes up in conversation. After capping off lunch with a tall cinammon dulce latte at Starbucks, we sauntered over to our mani/pedi appointment at Magic Nails. These girls really know what their doing. That's really all I'm gonna say about that. Well, that, AND, it was one of the most fun girly things I've ever done. Actually, second most fun to the hour long massage I did next at Elysium. You read me right. 60 minutes of pure relaxation. Worth every penny. Some of those pennies were even compliments of my roommate - thank you very much Holly!
Monday nights I tutor a Korean woman named Seon-Ok - she is learning English and we use the Bible as our primary practice tool. She was so kind to remember my birthday and gave me some Korean goodies like instant coffee and wafer-cream cookies. I haven't tried the coffee yet, but the cookies are muey delish! After we studied some, I met the girls at Bonefish Grill in Cool Springs. I had the Mahi Mahi Imperial, finished off with Key Lime Pie. I officially stated after inhaling every bite, "I will never eat again." And I haven't.

Not really.

I would have returned to work on Tuesday sporting post-birthday depression, except for the fact that I only have to work 3 days this week, and I have a long weekend in Gatlinburg with 50 of my closest friends to look forward to. Not to mention the Superbowl on Sunday night with an imminent Colts victory knocking at the door. I just heart Tony Dungy. What I'm really not looking forward to is returning to work next Monday. Talk about post-everything depression.

Fortune cookie say: "It is fairly certain that I can now die a happy girl."