Quaint Quiescence

Opera, Interrupted

2011-11-01T16:42:00.002-05:00

For many of us, our entire knowledge and experience of opera comes from this.

If Bugs Bunny is all you know of opera, you are better educated than you might realize. Even Rossini would approve. But in the interest of further educating myself, I went to see the actual production of The Barber of Seville at the Houston Grand Opera this weekend. I was sooo excited. The folks at the opera graciously offered me some media tickets and invited me to be their guest at a small reception during intermission.

The evening was going to be perfect. I made plans for my boyfriend, Jerry, to pick me up in time to get dinner before the show. We had a lovely dinner, but it took a tad longer than I thought and we were a bit rushed at the end. No fear, though! The show didn't start until 8pm and we were just minutes away from downtown.

We got to the Wortham Center and parked in the garage. We had just moments to spare. Jerry kept remarking on the fact that there were no other cars in line for parking and no one was walking through the garage. I didn't think much of it.

We got inside and went to Will-Call to get the tickets. It was 7:56. Again, Jerry observed that there was no one in the lobby. "Where are all the people?" he kept asking. "I don't know. I guess they're already inside," I answered.

Well...they were. Everyone was already inside, because the show didn't start at 8pm. It started at 7:30pm. And there's no late seating. We missed the entire first act.

So all I can tell you about the Barber of Seville is that the second act is very funny and we enjoyed it very much. But I didn't see Bugs Bunny anywhere. Maybe he was only in the first act.

Things that are true (for me) about having a boyfriend

2011-09-21T17:14:00.004-05:00

I buy more beef than I did before.

I watch more dumb movies than I did before.

I listen to more weird music than I did before.

I have to clean my house more than I did before.

I drive less than I did before.

I use more cell phone minutes than I did before.

I freshen my make-up more than I did before.

I stay up later than I did before.

I have to explain myself more than I did before.

I am happier than I ever was before.

The Fear Factor

2011-09-14T14:07:00.003-05:00

Fear can be a strong motivator for many of us. Unfortunately, it often motivates us to behave irrationally, make unsound decisions or remain paralyzed in places that simply aren't good for us.

Fear, in other words, can make us pretty stupid.

I know this because I recently went through a break-up based almost entirely on fear. Both myself and the guy I was dating made our decisions based on the unknowns, rather than the facts. We got so caught up in the fear of "what nexts" and "what ifs" that we sabotaged the realities of "right now."

But fear isn't always a profound philosophical quandary. Sometimes fear is a cockroach under your coffee table. You get home in the evening, see something down there under the table, run to get the Raid...and you let your fear empower you to spray that MoFo to oblivion.

It's not until after you have released half the can of Raid that you realize you just annihilated...a piece of fabric. Yes, friends, I Raided a scrap of fibers. I screamed while doing so. Note to self: Turn on all the lights before jumping to conclusions about cockroach invasions.

And maybe turn the emotional light on and take your finger off the fear trigger before you Raid someone's intentions and feelings about you. Maybe the scraps of fabric in your life just need to be picked up off the carpet, rather than poisoned and paralyzed.

Make an effort to let reality be your guide, whether you're facing a relationship or a roach.

Dancing and Cool Clothes Are the Theme of the Day

2011-08-30T16:23:00.000-05:00

Proof that being a model doesn't mean you can dance (P.S. The Clothes! I Die!)

2011-08-30T13:56:00.001-05:00

An update and a horror story

2011-08-16T16:37:00.003-05:00

I have assembled all the chairs. I have also purchased paint samples to test on the chairs. I went the three-color route, with a combination of teal, magenta and mustard yellow. I'll post pictures once I have something to show.

In other news, the other day someone noticed a large cockroach casually walking through our reception area. This is upsetting for many reasons: One) Because the cockroach was not invited; Two) Because our reception desk is on the third floor inside a closed building and HOW DID THE COCKROACH MAKE IT THAT FAR WITHOUT BEING DISCOVERED; and Three) Because cockroaches are vile, repulsive and in every way disgusting.

But that's not the horror story. The true horror was how our receptionist chose to handle this serious security breach.

Step 1: She found a styrofoam cup and a piece of paper
Step 2: She placed the cup over the cockroach and trapped it
Step 3: She slid the paper under the cup and picked up the trapped roach
Step 4: She released the cockroach outside, back into the wild, where it could be free to terrorize other unsuspecting victims

What kind of sicko uses Catch and Release on a cockroach?!? Clearly she and I are philosophically and ideologically opposed in every way that is most important and core to human interaction.

Sniffing Paint Chips

2011-08-11T12:54:00.003-05:00

Earlier this year, I bought a dining table that is dark and distressed with flecks and streaks of deep green paint on it here and there. It's made from reclaimed teak from an old barn or boat, so there's little chance of finding the perfect chairs to match.

So instead I opted to buy natural wood chairs and paint them myself. My plan is to paint them in various bold, bright colors to draw out the color scheme in my house. I'm not afraid of using color and really want the overall effect to POP. The picture below is the general concept, although the colors I'm considering are deeper and richer.

But here's what I can't decide. I have six chairs and I want to paint them different colors. Would it look better to paint them six completely different colors? Or would it make more sense to paint them two and two and two? Or, as in the picture above, four and two? Help!

Picking Your Brain

2011-08-02T15:03:00.002-05:00

A friend and I were having a conversation today about books and authors and she made the comment that she'd really like to spend a day inside the brain of a particular author in order to discover how someone comes up with a story like the one we just read.

That got me thinking...within whose brain would I choose to spend a day?

My first thought was a guy's brain. I haven't quite figured out which guy. Not anyone I've dated, because I don't want to know what they're thinking (or not thinking at all) about me. Not anyone famous, because obviously their thoughts aren't representative of the male population. Just an average guy. This is how I imagine a day inside a guy's brain would go:

*Wakes up
I have to pee like a horse!

*Pees
I wonder how horses actually pee? Do they hike a leg up? I should try that.

*Showers
Mmmm...shampoo...hahaha POO...hahaha I wonder why the word poo is in shampoo...

*Examines self in mirror, does a little naked dance with various parts flopping about
You're a god, an Adonis...look at you...you could be Harrison Ford's twin. The young Harrison Ford...Han Solo era...not Air Force One Harrison Ford. You're not there yet, my boy. But some day...some day...

*Eats breakfast
I love food.

*Goes to work
I hate work.

*Eats lunch
I love food

*Goes back to work
Why don't we have naps at work? There should be naps. And baked goods. Why don't any of the girls around here make baked goods?

*Looks at female coworker
Ohhh boobies...

*Works some more
Boobies...boobies...I love boobies

*Goes home
What this apartment complex needs is a Wing Stop!

Is my day inside a guy's brain overly simplified? Perhaps. Is it roughly accurate? I think, yes. And just to be clear, I mean no offense to the thinking processes of men...I know you all are capable of thoughts at levels higher than an eight-year-old boy. But because this is mostly all I hear guys talk about, it's what I assume yall think about all the time. Which is why I'd really like to spend a day inside a guy's brain...to find out how close my perceptions are to reality.

On the road again

2011-07-28T17:16:00.002-05:00

I feel a road trip coming on. I haven't told my boss yet...and since he reads this blog I guess now would be as good a time as any to request some vacation time. Jack? A week and a half? Maybe in September? Let's talk.

Anyhoo, the problem with taking a road trip when you live in Texas is that it takes so frickin long to get anywhere that isn't still in Texas! I mean there's always Louisiana, but that's pretty much your only option when you live in Houston and want to get out of the state for awhile. Sooo...that being the case, where would you go on a road trip out of Houston? Austin, Dallas, San Antonio and all points in between don't count. Been there, done that. And let's go ahead and keep border cities off the list. I'm not interested in being kidnapped, killed or joining a cartel.

Car-ma

2011-07-27T12:45:00.003-05:00

It's Wednesday. Normally I go to Starbucks on Wednesdays because I also go to city council on Wednesdays and sometimes the only thing that gets me through is a grande non-fat no-whip mocha and a cranberry-orange scone.

So I couple weeks ago I was on my normal Wednesday morning route to the drive-through Starbucks in my neighborhood. I placed my order, pulled up to the window, paid for my drink and drove away. It wasn't until I was several blocks away that I took my first sip...only to discover they had given me the wrong drink. I assume I got someone else's vanilla latte and someone else got my mocha. I was so disappointed. I only go to Starbucks once a week! It's a special treat! What a let down. It was too late to turn around and go back. Oh well.

So the following Wednesday, I was back at Starbucks, going through the drive-through line. I remembered how they messed up my order last time and thought about mentioning it to the barista. I figured they might give me a free drink this time to make up for the mistake before. But then I decided not to say anything. It's not really a big deal. It's just a cup of coffee, after all.

When I arrived at the window, the cashier handed me my coffee and I handed her my credit card.
"Oh, your drink is free," she said.
"Excuse me?" I asked.
"Yea, the guy in the car in front of you paid for your drink. He said to tell you it was a random act of kindness and that he hopes you have a great day."

I drove away with a huge smile on my face and a hot, delicious mocha in my cupholder. :)

A (Blogging) Failure

2011-07-26T18:38:00.004-05:00

I've realized any time I have something particularly good or particularly bad happen in my life, my blogging drops off dramatically. Looking back over the past two years of blogging (or lack thereof), that's a lot of ups and downs. Which pretty accurately reflects how I feel about the last two years of my life. The past two years have included crossing the threshold into my 30s, two relationships, two breakups, a trip to Europe, the death of my pawpaw, some pretty intense emotional therapy, moving out on my own after living with roommates for my entire adult life and changing churches. And that's just the big stuff. Countless other small changes and challenges are peppered between those events.

I tend to be pretty hard on myself. I have a twisted mentality that if I mess up on something, the entire thing is a complete failure. So I either have to be perfect at something, or I don't allow myself to do it at all. I know I'm not great at sports, so I don't participate in them at all. Ridiculous, I know. But being mediocre, or even downright bad, at sports is far worse in my messed up mind than not playing sports at all. Avoidance. If you don't try, you can't fail.

I even find myself applying this dubious logic to blogging. If I miss one or two days of blogging, I've failed and should just quit altogether. Never mind the fact that there is no "rule" that I must blog five days a week. There are no blog police monitoring my posting frequency. I'm not going to get shut down for subversive non-blogging. But in the sickness of my mind, it matters.

When I look back over that list of things I've been through in the past two years, I realize how much joy and loss I've experienced in such a short amount of time. I realize how big life really is, even when it seems so small. I realize how I've spent 32 years of my life living by rules that no one else has imposed on me. I realize that my biggest failure is letting the fear of failure dictate my actions. It's time to walk away from that fear. Today. I'm certain it will creep back in. I'm positive I'll succumb to it again at some point in the future. But that doesn't make me a failure.

File Under: It's Funny Because It's True

2011-06-24T13:46:00.001-05:00

A Theatrical Warning

2011-06-21T13:31:00.001-05:00

Don't see the Green Lantern. Just...don't.

Edit: Because it was awful. Seriously. So terrible.

Getting the bridal look

2011-06-20T13:57:00.002-05:00

Okay, confession time. Sometimes I watch online make-up tutorials. If you've never seen an online tutorial, watch about 90 seconds of this link and you'll get the idea of how they work. Okay, so now you know what to expect from a standard make-up tutorial.

Now watch this one for something a bit different. She's definitely my new favorite make-up guru.

I'm in love with this boy

2011-06-02T14:11:00.001-05:00

You can't judge a book by its Facebook profile

2011-05-25T12:02:00.002-05:00

Dating is tricky. Sometimes people seem like the perfect candidate on paper, but in reality they are far from what you're looking for. I recently was reminded of this when someone asked me out for coffee. The little I knew about him from his Facebook page indicated he was an interesting and intelligent person with many common interests. I agreed to a coffee date and in the meantime we exchanged a few emails and instant message conversations.

As the coffee date approached, he IM'd me to make more definite plans. In the course of that conversation, the whole thing fell apart. I faithfully recreate the conversation below for your pleasure/horror.

Coffee Guy: There's some sort of chemical smell in my apartment. I'll be right back. Gonna go check this out.
Me: Ok

....

Coffee Guy: I'm back. The idiot mexicans working upstairs on the flooring had put chemicals down and left the AC on in the entire building. I switched it off.

Me: ummm...do you often use phrases like "idiot mexicans"?

Coffee Guy: well I can't call them chinese

Me: what if they're guatemalan? or el salvadorean? what does their nationality have to do with it?

Coffee Guy: they're all beaners to me

Me: please tell me you're joking

Coffee Guy: nope

Me: ah. well in that case, I'm going to have to cancel our plans for coffee. have a nice day

And people wonder why I'm still single...

How I joined the Art Car Parade, and other tales

2011-05-23T15:04:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, Houston held its infamous art car parade with a huge turnout of people. A friend and I had plans to meet up with some other folks at a nearby restaurant and then walk to the parade. We were driving around the area, looking for a place to park near the restaurant. Unfortunately, we were running late and every spot for blocks was already taken.

My friend suggested I turn down a street in a little neighborhood and see if there was a spot along the curb. Everything was full and we kept driving, only to drive around a corner and end up dead ending straight into the parade! There was literally nowhere to go except forward! Tnhe street wasn't blocked off at all, so I nosed out into the street, where art cars were lined up in waiting and throngs of people were roaming the street. We were literally caught up in the crowd.

We couldn't go more than about 5mph because so many people were walking around and in front of my car. My friend was gripping the door handle and anxiously motioning people to move out of the way as we nudged forward.

We were stuck in the parade for about a block and then finally came to a cross street where we were able to turn off and ask the police officers to let us pass back through the barricade.

The officers looked at me and laughed and said "all right...come on through."

All I could think of the whole time was that I hoped I wouldn't run anyone over...and I wished my car was decorated. :)

Getting to know the neighbors

2011-05-06T14:27:00.002-05:00

Last night I walked into my backyard to water my garden when I was startled by the sound of someone greeting me. I looked up and saw my neighbor, on his balcony, looking down at me and smiling. And I swear at first glance I thought he was naked.

I quickly looked away and mumbled a greeting in response while I snuck a second glance (come on, people...just to verify that my eyes were tricking me...not out of any prurient interest). Fortunately, he was NOT naked. He was shirtless and was wearing some light khaki shorts that were close in color to his skin which is what gave me the impression of nudity. But it was too late for normal conversation at that point. I had already given off the "weirded out" vibe and he quickly retreated back into his house.

I then laughed to myself because I recalled that just two nights before, I was out watering the backyard quite late in the evening (after dark)...wearing my yoga pants and a t-shirt and, I shamefully confess, NOT wearing any supportive undergarments of the female variety. And the same neighbor walked by on his way out of the house and stopped to chat for a moment. I gave him a pained smile as I crossed my arms over my chest. Again, he got the "weirded out" vibe from me because I was all kinds of self-conscious.

So at this point he probably thinks I'm either really awkward or really weird or maybe both.

Clearly, there's a life lesson in this story somewhere.

My So-Called (Thought) Life

2011-05-05T15:54:00.003-05:00

Do you ever stop and think about how many thoughts you have that are all about you? My thoughts are filled with myself. On any given day at any given moment I am probably thinking about myself. Thinking about how this affects me or how that looks on me or what you think of me or whether you ever do think of me or what I'm going to eat for ___(breakfast, lunch, dinner, elevensies, afternoon snack etc.. ad nauseum) or what I'm not going to eat because I shouldn't but I really want to or how my coworkers annoy me or how my family annoys me or how church people annoy me or how housework annoys me or how the neighbors dog yapping in the middle of the night annoys me or why my skin is more dry than it used to be or why I don't have much energy lately or whether I'll ever get married or whether I'll ever go on a date again or whether I'll ever hear the words "I love you" or when I'll have time to get my car washed or when I can take a vacation or how I never thought my life would end up like this but it's not ALL bad.

I'm sick of myself.

Viva la Revolucion!

2011-05-03T14:08:00.002-05:00

This past Sunday, as I was exiting the church parking lot, I drove past a friend of mine who rolled down her window and asked where I was going and if I wanted to get dinner with her.

So we made spontaneous plans and headed over to a coffee chop/cafe in the heart of town for a light supper on the patio.

As we sat there chatting and waiting for our food, I began to look around and noticed that the other folks on the patio looked...well...different than we looked. Or perhaps I should say that my friend and I looked different from everyone else. I pointed this out to my friend, under my breath, saying "umm have you noticed that we don't quite...belong?"

We were surrounded by people who looked at first glance like hippies. But on closer inspection they were more like a subset of hippies...a sect, if you will. Several of them were wearing t-shirts with the word "Revolution" printed on the front. Then they started setting up a table with pamphlets and books on it, followed by a microphone and sound system.

Next thing we knew, they were singing. It turns out they were Communists. They were out celebrating May Day, which is the traditional day to celebrate the contributions of the working man (we were informed). They tried to get us to join in as they sang their version of an anthem (complete with arms raised in solidarity). They sang all the verses of the song, first in English, then in Spanish and then in Farsi.

They talked about the people's revolution and played some Spanish and Iranian music videos. Mostly they just talked amongst themselves.

My takeaway was this: If being a Communist means never fixing my hair and having to look like an earth-mother, I'll pass.

Speaking of royal weddings...

2011-04-29T14:51:00.000-05:00

I. Can't. Stop. Watching.

Love in the time of Haiku

2011-04-28T14:32:00.002-05:00

Verdant green cool sin
O Creamy Jalapeno
I sink in your depths

Awkward is as awkward does

2011-04-26T18:14:00.002-05:00

What makes awkward moments so awkward? I don't mean embarrassing moments in which you say or do something out of place and feel shame or humiliation over the situation. I mean awkward moments where the social environment is violated in some way. My personal opinion is that my normalcy (relatively speaking) is what makes awkward moments so awkward. I mean, think about it. Do awkward people behave as though they realize they are awkward? No, no they do not. They conduct themselves in a manner that suggests they are blissfully unaware of the havoc they are wreaking on the social fabric around them. They are so accustomed to awkwardness that it doesn't seem awkward to them.

(By the bye, I've typed 'awkward' so much that the word now looks awkward.)

Now lest you become confused, I want to clarify that I am not referring to shy people or those who are merely insecure in certain social situations. They are able to develop skills and strategies to avoid the awkwardness. But we all know someone (at least one!) who is hopelessly awkward. And I believe that awkward person has no idea of his or her own awkwardness. Which means really it's the rest of us who feel awkward around that person....which makes us the awkward ones.

The answer, my friends, is blowing in the wind...the answer is blowing in the wind.

Easter vs Halloween

2011-04-25T15:10:00.002-05:00

In a fight between the most sacred and the least sacred holidays on the Western calendar...which would win? Of course, I'm not talking about which holiday is better or more fun or has more purpose. Naturally, if you had to pick between Easter candy and Halloween candy, which would you pick??

My pick would be Easter candy. In my opinion, most of the stuff that you get at Halloween is available year-round. But Easter candy (chocolate bunnies, Cadbury eggs, chocolate-coated marshmallow eggs etc...) is only available at Easter.

So in the epic battle between good and evil, I'd say Easter candy wins.

Father's Day Gift Idea

2011-04-21T18:26:00.002-05:00

Maybe you're one of those people who likes to get your gift shopping done early. Or maybe you're the kind of person who has trouble coming up with creative gift ideas. Either way, this salon has a suggestion/solution for you. What better gift for dear old Dad than a little manscaping?

I took this picture myself, so please excuse the glare and reflection in the window of the car passing by behind me.

Now I have nothing against a bit of manscaping here and there. Back hair should probably be removed if it's excessive. Neck hair should be trimmed and maintained. That's all well and good. The part that really concerns me about this particular ad is the area where the "manscaping" is taking place on "dad." It makes me picture the gift exchange around the family dining table.

Um, here Dad. I got you a present. So you can shave your...well...it's for personal grooming...you know like to keep things ummm tidy....and ummmm well...I hope you like it...so ummm...Happy Father's Day!

Man to Man...via a woman

2011-04-13T13:40:00.002-05:00

I love this website for so many reasons, not least of which is the man in the giant headdress and silver spangly bra who is dispensing advice on how to love a woman. Also, check out Zack, who is today's entry. I'm pretty sure he's going to be my next boyfriend. He acts like a big boy.

Dating in the real world

2011-04-07T13:29:00.002-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, I got in a minor car accident (bad). But I got a date out of it (good). When I took my car into the shop, a guy from the rental car company came to pick me up. We chatted and by the time I drove away in my rental, he had my phone number. (Honestly, at that point I thought he was merely interested in the kind of work I do...I didn't realize until later that he was interested in me as well).

Several days later he contacted me and suggested we see each other outside of me renting a car from him. I agreed and we made plans to go out for a drink.

Drinks Night arrived, and so did he, standing awkwardly on my door step ready to commence the general awfulness that is a first date. (Why are they always so awful?) Except this one didn't turn out to be awful after all. It was quite nice, actually. We shared a bottle of wine and talked for nearly three hours. But by about halfway through the evening, a suspicion began taking root in a corner of my mind. The suspicion grew stronger and stronger and finally I couldn't hold it in any longer. So I finally said what I had been thinking..."You know...I'm starting to think I might be quite a bit older than you..." I casually threw out. He looked puzzled and said "Oh really? Maybe. I'm 22."

HA!!! "Yes...yes that confirms it. I'm a LOT older than you."

"Oh. Well it's rather rude for me to ask you how old you are," he remarked. "How large a gap are we talking about?"

"Ummm...well...I'll be 32 in a few weeks," I confessed.

He got quiet. Then he shrugged and said "Well...stranger things have happened." And we went right on with our previous conversation.

And that, my friends, is how I became a cougar.

How NOT to get a job

2011-04-01T13:24:00.006-05:00

In this tough economy, people are trying a lot of different strategies to get their foot in the door at whatever establishment they wish to be employed. I can't offer you any tips for how to score the job you really want. But I can tell you how to effectively make sure a company does NOT hire you. As always, my advice comes from actual life events. None of the following is fabricated, although names have been removed to protect the socially awkward.

Earlier this week, a guy showed up at our station and told the receptionist he was interested in getting started in radio. The receptionist called into the newsroom and told one of my coworkers (who handles our intern program) that someone wanted to find out about learning the radio biz. So my coworker went down the hall to talk to him.

This is her account of the story...she realized the man wearing faded jeans, untucked shirt and styrofoam cup of coffee in hand was the person asking for a job. She proceeded to ask him what kind of work he is looking for and he told her he wanted to know if we ever need "voices."

"Voices?" she asked.
"Yea, I can be a 'voice' on the radio. How can I help YOU? What can I do for YOU?" he replied.
"Umm, well we don't really need any voices right now. We have full-time staff on the air," she told him.

At this point, he started talking in a high-pitched fake voice and said "What? You mean you don't need any cartoon voices?" As she tried not to laugh, she politely informed him that we are a news station and we don't really use cartoon voices on our air. But she offered to give him a tour of the station.

When she brought him into the newsroom, I realized it was someone I am casually acquainted with. I just had seen him the night before at a social outing where we talked a bit about radio and now here he was at my office. He acted surprised to see me and said something along the lines of not realizing I worked here at the station. Umm, okay, sure.

We chatted briefly and then my coworker offered to walk him back up to the lobby. When they got to the reception desk, he turned to her and said "so...do you ever like to get a glass of wine on a Friday night?"
She gave him a blank stare and after a long pause said "Um, what do you mean?"
"Well, I guess that's another way of asking if you'd ever want to go out?" he replied.
"I have a boyfriend. But thanks for the invitation," she answered.
"Oh ok. Well would you still want to get a glass of wine sometime just because...?" he persisted.
"I don't think my boyfriend would be okay with that," she said.

And then he left, having hammered the final nail into the coffin of certainty that we will never be calling him up to be one of our "voices."

If this strategy doesn't work, I don't know what will

2011-03-30T13:49:00.000-05:00

On being a girl

2011-03-24T15:04:00.002-05:00

This week I've been driving a rental car while my car is in the shop for repairs from the fender bender.
The indignity of driving a giant Impala around is bad enough, but to make matters worse, the interior light wouldn't turn off.

I pushed every button I could find. Opened and closed every door plus the trunk. Pushed the light itself. Tried turning every other light on and off. Nothing worked. I drove around with the interior light on all the time, even at night. It stayed on when the car was turned off. I could not figure out the solution.

Finally, I got so exasperated, I drove back to the rental place and asked them if they could figure out what was wrong with it. The rental guy got in the car, turned a knob and got back out again.

The light was off.

Thanks, Rental Guy. I kind of hate you a little bit now.

Not my typical commute

2011-03-22T12:40:00.002-05:00

This morning as I was driving to work, I noticed a man walking down the side of the road. There was no sidewalk there, but a sort of little path worn into the grass. This was on a very busy road where traffic is going about 50-55 mph.

As I got closer to where the man was, he looked straight at me and hopped out into the road directly in front of my car!

I had to swerve quickly to the left to avoid running him over. He laughed as I passed him and got back onto the path on the side of the road. I watched in my rear view mirror as he did the same thing again to another car further behind me.

I called the police. I felt bad about alerting them because he looked like he might be homeless. But I figured he may be mentally ill, or even suicidal. And even if he doesn't want to get hurt, he could cause a serious accident by jumping out into traffic. I drove to work, feeling sad for him and for our world...where people try to harm others for their own pleasure or gratification.

Soooo Ashamed

2011-03-17T13:28:00.001-05:00

Are You My Mother?

2011-03-14T13:03:00.004-05:00

Last week I got an unusual email.

It went like this:

Hi Mom!

Hope everything is going well down there for you guys! I just wanted to drop a note and say hi! Can't wait until you get back so I can hear all about it and see pics!

Love,

Meagan

Unfortunately, I had to break the sad news to Meagan that I am not her mother. I felt bad about doing this over email, as I'm sure the announcement came as quite a surprise. But I felt like it needed to be done. She deserves to know the truth.

She never replied back. I know she'll heal. Eventually.

Bieber Fever

2011-03-11T13:14:00.004-06:00

Last weekend I went to the beach for a girls' weekend to celebrate my mom's birthday. Our group ranged in age from 60 (the birthday girl!) down to seven (a friend's granddaughter). This was my first time to meet the little girl and it turns out she developed quite the girl-crush on me.
Everywhere we went, she would walk or sit next to me, never leaving my side. She kept up a running chatter about everything that popped into her head...I can totally see her being my next intern at the radio station. ;)
We spent a lot of time in the pool and hot tub together...just having girl talk...with a seven-year-old.

Let me just point out how difficult it is to take a self-portrait with a touch-screen phone in a hot tub. Not. Easy.

The conversation between us went something along these lines most of the time...

Me: "So what's your favorite thing at school?"

Alli: "Second grade is my favorite and I don't ever want to leave it but most of my friends are in first grade because they're nicer than my friends in second grade and my best friend Kenedy plays with me even though her friend doesn't want her to oh and there's a boy in my class who likes me and tries to talk to me all the time but I don't like him. I like all the other boys in my class...I don't know why...I just can't help it." Deep sigh.

Me: (trying not to laugh) "You like all of them? Do you have a favorite?"

Alli: "Well Justin Bieber is my favorite. I want him to be my boyfriend and then we can grow up and get married. But Selena Gomez is his girlfriend. I hate her. I like her show, it's good. But I don't like seeing her. I want to hit her sometimes. One time I had a dream that I was at Justin Bieber's concert and I got to go backstage and meet him and then he kissed me and I fainted. I didn't tell my mom and dad about that dream."

I wouldn't either, Alli. I wouldn't either.

Holy Blog Delay, Batman!

2011-03-10T16:44:00.002-06:00

How has it been ten days since I last blogged??! I swear I thought I posted at least a couple times last week. Methinks the squirrel in my brain-wheel is running slower these days.

And it's not even for lack of material that this blog has gone silent. Perhaps it's more like lack of time.

On Monday, as I was driving to work, I got in a minor car accident. I was stopped at a stop sign, waiting for the other cars to go through the intersection. All of a sudden, BAM! A guy in a huge pickup truck slammed into my car from behind. I still don't fully know how it happened. I mean I was at a complete and total stop. He had to have seen me in front of him. But apparently he was looking down at his phone and didn't realize he needed to put the brakes on.

Fortunately, the damage to my car wasn't too bad. Just a dent in the rear bumper. Unfortunately, my cup of coffee that had been sitting in the cup holder splashed all over the interior of my car. Adding insult to injury, coffee also spilled inside my very favorite handbag! I think I might be more upset about that than about the car.

Needless to say, Monday was stressful. And things didn't get much better at work. That is, until the mayor called. Yes, that mayor. As in the mayor of the city of Houston. I answered the phone and she said "This is Mayor Annise Parker, may I speak to Laurie?" "Hello, Mayor! This is Laurie," I said. "How are you doing, Mayor?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she replied. "But I should be asking how YOU are doing...I heard you got in a bit of an accident today. Are you okay?"

Let me just say that I never in my life imagined a scenario in which the mayor of Houston would be chit chatting with me about the minor tribulations of my day.

Fake Husbands and other things my fake boyfriends should know about

2011-02-28T17:11:00.002-06:00

I have a good friend at my office who I have known for many years. I'm friends with his whole family and consider him to be one of my most trusted friends in the workplace. Apparently the feeling is mutual because he talks about me at home often enough that his wife jokingly refers to me as his "radio wife."

So the other day he came into work and said he had a funny story to tell me. His five-year-old daughter turned in a short workbook paper at school. When she brought it back home to show her parents, they were rather horrified to see what she wrote. Her assignment was to write short sentences using number words such one, two and three. I faithfully reproduce her paper here for your review, along with the teacher's comments in parenthesis.)

Pizza is my number one food. (Mine too!)

Mom has two daughters.

I leave school at three. (Yes!)

Dad has two wives. (Wow! :))

And that, my friends, is why you should never joke about having a radio wife.

Fake Boyfriends...and other things I found

2011-02-25T15:45:00.002-06:00

Ask and ye shall receive, they always say. Well friends, I got an excellent fake boyfriend delivered to me that I can now use in all situations wherein a fake boyfriend is required. Here's the story...I showed up to an event where a good friend of mine was sitting at a table all alone. He called out to me and said I should come sit next to him. Naturally, I made a quip about how if we sat together alone at the table we might need to have a DTR. Of course, he knew I was just joking. However, the leader of the event was standing nearby and overheard the comment.

Later in the course of the evening, the leader was up front talking and made a joke about how some people in the audience might not be paying attention to what he was saying because they were probably distracted by "that special someone" sitting next to them. He then pointed at us and said "like that guy in the back corner sitting with Laurie."

Cue the entire room turning to look back at us sitting together.
Add the unfortunate timing that I had literally just leaned over to say something to my friend, which resulted in giving the impression that we were rather cozy with one another.

My face turned about a dozen shades of red and I waved off the stares, stammering "no, no...you've got the wrong idea."

The damage was done. But God, in His infinite wisdom, provides all our needs. Including fake boyfriends.

Why I like Starbucks

2011-02-23T17:15:00.002-06:00

I know Starbucks is a corporate giant and I should support my local coffee shop...blah blah blah. I get it. But Starbucks keeps me coming back for two reasons: convenience and customer service.

I don't buy into the whole "we're so cool that we can't be nice to you" mentality that often accompanies the local coffee house scene. And while there's a lot to be said for the charm and uniqueness of neighborhood shops, they're often not easy or convenient to access.

All that said, I don't have exclusive loyalty to the Starbucks brand. But that might change after today. I recently moved to a new part of town, which means finding the new locations in my area. This morning on the way to work, I went to the Starbucks with a drive-through that's near my house.

As I pulled up to the intercom, the barista inside said "Good morning, Sweetie. What can I get for ya?"
It threw me off for a moment. The thought went through my mind "what if I had been a man? Can the barista see me, or do they just take a guess and hope for the best?" To complicate matters, I couldn't tell by the voice whether the person on the other end of the intercom was an older black woman, or a gay man.

After I placed my order, the barista said "alright Baby, come on up."
Erm...okay.

When I got to the window, I still couldn't tell if the person was an older black woman or a gay man. Either way, the sweetie and baby didn't bother me...I was just surprised. Then the other guy at the window leaned out and asked "do you want a piece of lemon cake?"

I told him I didn't order any lemon cake. "I know," he said. "But I have an extra piece here and I thought you might want to have it. Here ya go."

So Sweetie Baby drove off with a piece of lemon cake thinking this might be my favorite Starbucks location.

The reason Mr. Rogers did what he did

2011-02-22T14:03:00.000-06:00

Fake Boyfriends...and other things I need to learn to lie about

2011-02-21T14:45:00.004-06:00

My company recently hired a new custodial staff. Last week, as I was leaving the office, I happened to get on the elevator at the same time as one of the new custodians. I smiled and said "hey how's it going" thinking we would just leave it at that. Nominal elevator chit chat is all I had in mind.

He smiled back, asked me how I was and then said "so did you have a nice weekend?"

As we all know, this is very safe workplace conversation, so I felt comfortable with engaging in further discussion.

"Oh yes, it was very nice. The weather was so gorgeous. I really enjoyed it."

"Yeah," he eloquently said. "And how bout your Valentine's Day? Was that good?"

Oh no. This is NOT safe workplace conversation. This is more like a "I'm trying to find out if you're seeing someone" conversation.

"Umm, well you know. Valentine's Day was alright," I warily replied. Then I looked back at the elevator door, silently willing it to go faster.

"Oh...so did you spend it with your sweetheart?" he persistently queried.

"Uh...well I don't know if I would use the word 'sweetheart,'" I hedged. "You know how it goes."
I laughed, nervously.

"What? You don't have a sweetheart?!"

Blast. This isn't working. I'm going to have to lie.

"Oh you know...sweetheart isn't always the word I use for him. More like 'guy who can't get his act together' if you know what I mean," I said with a pained smile.

"Oh yeah, I hear ya," he sympathized. "But you're gonna get tired of that. You'll want something different. That won't last."

Just then the elevator door opened, I chuckled and agreed that it probably would get old after awhile and practically jogged down the hall, calling out "have a good one!" over my shoulder.

I'm clearly going to have to get better at making up fake boyfriends and the details of our relationship. It can't be a good sign that my made-up boyfriend is a loser and our relationship is going downhill. If I can't even make the imaginary relationships work, what hope is there?!

Mmmm...Habanera

2011-02-10T16:46:00.001-06:00

Do I Know You? (Said in Steve Martin voice)

2011-02-02T17:46:00.002-06:00

Last night I called into my local Chinese restaurant to pick up some soup to go (shout out to hot and sour soup!). When I walked in, another customer was waiting for his to-go order as well. He joked with me to shut the door quickly and I smiled and acknowledged how cold it was outside. That was my first mistake. Apparently my smile and response was enough to make him treat me as though we were buddies who had known each other many moons.

He looked at me, winked at the hostess and remarked on my hair and glasses, noting they were the same color. Then he proceeded to comment on my wardrobe, noting the embroidered flowers on my gloves, the type of shoes I was wearing and the logo on my purse. He actually touched my person (which is a bit like touching my person, for the record) and said "MK...what does that mean?" I told him it was a designer and then turned around and studied the various ads and notes tacked to the wall behind me.

He kept up a running commentary the entire time, trying to get my attention and force conversation. I responded as minimally as I could. Our food came out at the same time and he walked out of the restaurant right behind me. As I walked to my car, he exclaimed "Oh look at that. You drive a Mini. A red one, too! I guess there's a theme going on here."

I silently got in my car and waited for him to exit the parking lot before driving home myself. I don't think he was a creep...more likely just someone who doesn't understand inappropriate familiarity. But it really boggles me how men can be that clueless about social interaction with women. I mean, don't they realize how uncomfortable that makes us and how vulnerable we feel when a total stranger invades our physical and psychological space?

I swear, I attract the weirdos.

Picture and...Trample

2011-02-01T13:18:00.002-06:00

This past weekend, I had dinner with a good friend and her family. They aren't a family I spend very much time with, so it was nice to get to know them a little better and find out more about their stories and family dynamic.

During the course of the evening, my friend's mother questioned me multiple times about my dating life and asked lots of questions about the reasons I'm not dating anyone. I told her I often lack confidence and it also seems like I get overlooked or not noticed by the men around me. She then gave me the following advice (which left me and her own daughter rolling in laughter.)

1. Picture it.
"Girl, you gotta picture yourself with the things you want!" she declared. "If you like a guy, you need to picture yourself dating him! You picture yourself as confident and available and you picture him as liking you and you just keep picturing what you want until you get it!"
(Nota Bene: When some girls do this, it's called having the Crazies. I recommend not straying into the Crazies territory.)

2. Trample!
"You need to stop being insecure about whether a guy likes you and you just trample anyone who gets in your way!" At this point I had to ask for clarification as to what exactly she meant by "trample." "When I say trample, I mean if there are other girls around that guy, you get in there and make sure he notices you! You don't back off just because there's some competition. You go talk to him and sit next to him and ask him about his day and make sure he knows you're there and you're available."

She also gave me strict instructions that when I go to church (which is where a lot of the single men I know happen to be) I am not allowed to sit at a table with just girls. "You walk into that room, look for a guy you'd like to get to know and you go sit next to him and start talking!"
"Yes ma'am," I meekly said.

Driving home with my friend that night, we laughed and laughed about her mom's advice to picture and trample. We both agreed there was some truth to the Picture advice...in the sense that it's important to believe good things about ourselves...to believe that I am attractive, confident, worthy etc...
Neither of us could go so far as to support the trample theory...but it provided much amusement.

So I have to tell you, when I went to church on Sunday, her advice was ringing in my ears. I walked into the classroom thinking "Picture it! Picture what you want. Picture that it could happen."

And within ten minutes, I not only pictured...I also trampled. True story. :)

The Dining Dilemma

2011-01-27T15:36:00.002-06:00

Ok here's the deal with the dining table. What I really, REALLY want is way outside my budget. There's a shop called Barrio Antiguo that makes tables out of repurposed wood doors. They are gorgeous. And they run in the $1000+ range, which is about twice what I am willing to spend on a dining table.

I spotted one I really like at World Market, that has the same sort of rustic look and feel that I'm going for, but it's too large. Technically, I could squeeze it into my dining room. But I think it would feel too cramped and oversized for the space.

So I'm mentally settling for the one at Walmart. And I shouldn't settle. I should wait and find one that I really love. Blah blah blah. Fine. Back to scouring the furniture stores. Again.

Input Desired

2011-01-26T16:53:00.002-06:00

I'm thinking about buying this dining room table. It has the look I want at a price I love. My only hesitation? It's from Walmart. Thoughts?

Click here to see the table.

An Intrusion

2011-01-25T12:36:00.004-06:00

Shanna informs me the official term for a cluster or group of roaches is an "intrusion." Why, yes. That describes it perfectly. And lest anyone be confused, I'm not dealing with the giant cockroaches or tree roaches. I've got an "intrusion" of the small German roaches. Which are equally disgusting, but far less terrifying when it comes to the prospect of crushing them.

Last night was the first time since Saturday that I ventured into my kitchen. I found several dead roaches, which I took to be a good sign. I pulled all of the dishes out of my lower cabinets in order to wash them all. The idea that vermin may have crawled across my pots and pans prompted the desire to clean everything.

While washing dishes, I was able to enjoy the lovely flowers I had received earlier in the week from a friend who knew I was feeling sick. They looked so pretty sitting there behind my kitchen sink.

Then I glanced a little closer. And gasped. The "intrusion" continued to the point of violating my lovely flowers. Here's the close-up shot so you can understand what I'm going through.

At least he was dead. But at this point, they're making me angry. And really, you don't want to get me angry.

It's...ALIVE!

2011-01-24T14:06:00.002-06:00

My friends, I live. It was touch and go there for a while...but I have pulled through and am reasonably confident the good Lord has released me from the grips of death, otherwise known as the flu.
Oh, it was bad. I haven't been that sick in years. There was one night that I seriously considered calling someone to take me to the emergency room. I don't think I've ever had the flu before (if I did, it was as a child). I never want to have it again. From now on I will be among the first in line to get the flu shot.
By Saturday morning, I could tell I was returning to the land of the living. I had gone five days without drinking coffee (that's how you know I was REALLY sick). I got up and thought to myself "Self, I think I want some coffee."
I went into the kitchen (which hadn't been used in more than a week) and pulled the carafe off the coffeemaker to fill it with water. As I went to place it back on the burner, I jumped back and screamed. My eyes were met with the most appalling sight...there was a NEST of roaches in my coffee maker! A whole cluster...a gaggle of them, if you will. The vile creatures invaded not only the sanctity of my home, but they even entered the Holy of Holies...my brand-new coffee maker! You can mess with me, but don't mess with my coffee! I grabbed paper towels, crushed the vermin and immediately called an exterminator.
And so began my reentry to normal life. It was a rude awakening. I hope to have happier updates for you from now on...but let's be honest...January hasn't been the best of months so far. Here's to February sucking less.

The End of the Story (I hope)

2011-01-12T16:38:00.002-06:00

Sorry for keeping you all in suspense on the status of my car-drama. I moved over the weekend (another reason the car nightmare was horribly timed) and don't yet have access to the internet at my new casa (more to come on the house in a future post).

The dealership did, in fact, deliver my car to me on Thursday evening. I received no further communication from them until I emailed the head manager of the entire dealership to tell him about the horrible customer service I received at his business. I pasted my entire blog entries into the email and told him I would never do business with his company again.

Here's his response, which I will post without adding any commentary of my own. Draw your own conclusions.

"Mrs. Johnson,

My apologies for the service you received at Momentum Mini. In most instances such as these I am informed by our clients so that I may have an opportunity to assist in the service however you did not allow me that courtesy. I find it very disheartening that you will be posting and blogging about one single incident here at our location which is hardly fair I believe. We service over 200 vehicles a day and have a great reputation in our service department which is reflected in our customer satisfaction surveys. However we regret that you will be taking your Mini to other locations for service, the other two locations are great facilities.

Respectfully,

Monty Meave
Dealer Operator
Momentum BMW/Mini

An update

2011-01-06T12:53:00.002-06:00

Two and a half days after dropping my car off for a brake pad replacement job, I still don't have my vehicle back. This morning at 7:45, the technician called and left me a message, saying they found a leak in the oil pan and need to replace that as well. "I'll try to have your car done early today. I'll call you when it's ready," he said in the message.

Three hours later I still hadn't heard anything, so I called him and asked for the status on my car. "Oh, didn't you get my message?" he asked. "Yes, I got your message. You said you're working on it and would have it ready soon so I'm calling to find out when it will be ready."
"Oh, ok. Let me check," he said. He put me on hold and then came back a couple minutes later and said "it will be ready at 5pm." WHAT?? You have got to be kidding me! How in the world can you possibly need another full day to work on it??

His explanation was that it takes about five hours to replace an oil pan. Mind you, he had called and alerted to the oil pan issue at 7:45 in the morning. Add five hours and you should come to the reasonable conclusion that my car could be ready by no later than 12:45. So obviously no one had even bothered to start working on the vehicle yet.

He then suggested that I wait until tomorrow morning to return the loaner and pick up my car. I told him that was absolutely impossible as I am moving tomorrow and have to be at my new house at 8am to wait for the gas guy and furniture delivery. His next suggestion was that I keep the loaner until MONDAY.

Are you out of your mind? I am not going to leave my car at the dealership for a WEEK just to get some new brake pads and an oil pan!!! Unbelievable. So I informed him that instead of keeping my car even longer, what he would need to do is deliver my car to me at my office and pick up the loaner from me this afternoon. He tried to tell me he doesn't have enough man power for that and I told him that the manager of the dealership could personally deliver my car if no one else is available. Then I told him to have his manager call me so we could confirm this plan.

Fifteen minutes later, the technician called me back (the manager never bothered to contact me) and asked for my work address to deliver the car. That's the last I heard.

A rant about Momentum MINI

2011-01-05T10:35:00.006-06:00

If you don't feel like reading my customer service tirade, I'll go ahead and sum up the main point for you: Momentum BMW/MINI has horrible service and I will never, ever purchase a vehicle from them or have a car serviced there or in any way ever pay them another dollar and I will encourage everyone I know never to patronize their establishment either.

That being said, allow me to tell you the story of my car repairs.

Last week, my brake light came on in my car. I called my dealership to make an appointment and bring it in for repairs. My appointment was for Tuesday morning at 8am. I assumed that would give me ample time to have my brake pads replaced and get to work by 11 or 12 that day. Oh how wrong I was.

I dropped my car off and asked how long the service would take. I was told the car would be ready by midday or early afternoon. I said I definitely needed it by midday because I needed to be at work.

While I was there, the technician informed me that my service warranty had expired. I told him that was impossible because my warranty is good for 3 years or 36,000 miles, neither of which I have reached. He said his system showed it expired two days ago, on January 2nd. But he said if I could bring in my paperwork showing when I purchased my car, he could get the issue resolved. Ok, fine. He told me he would call me after the car went through diagnostics and let me know exactly what was wrong with the brakes. I told him that I wanted to have my car serviced one way or the other, regardless of what happened with the warranty. I need brakes.

A shuttle service took me home, where I immediately pulled out my paperwork and called the technician to verify that I had the documents showing my purchase date. He then informed me that my paperwork would not be sufficient after all and that I would need to contact the sales department of the dealership that sold me the car and get them to confirm the warranty.

So I called my original dealership and asked them to check my paperwork and confirm it. They assured me they would contact my service technician and authorize the service because my warranty should still be active. They said there was a mistake with the corporate office and they would get it cleared up.

So I sat at home and waited for notification that my car was ready for pick up. I waited. And waited. Four hours after dropping my car off, I still had received no phone call. So I called the technician and asked him what the status was on my car. He launched into a spiel about how my warranty still wasn't cleared up and he didn't know if the work would be covered. I reminded him that regardless of the warranty issue, I needed the service completed on my car. I then asked if the work was finished and he said they were just now getting it into diagnostics. I told him I needed to get to work and was astonished that after four hours of waiting they still had not even determined what kind of work needed to be done. "Oh, I didn't know you needed to go to work," he replied. "I told you this morning that I needed to be at work today. And now you're telling me that the car hasn't even made it into the shop yet? How do you expect me to get to the office?" He said he would have the technician "speed it up." He then told me he would call me after the diagnostics and confirm the repairs needed.

In frustration, I called my boss and explained the situation to him. My boss had to drive to my house to pick me up and bring me to work.

Once at work, I waited to hear the status of my car. No one called. Finally, at 4:40, nearly nine hours after dropping my car off, I called the technician to ask about my car. "Oh, we still haven't figured out the warranty issue, so we haven't done the work," he said. "WHAT? You mean you've had the car all day and haven't done any work on it?? Why not?" He then proceeded to tell me that my dealership had contacted him and told him to do the work on good faith while they worked to clear up my warranty issue, but that he couldn't do the work on good faith because if something went wrong he would be responsible and have to pay for it out of his own pocket. "I already authorized you to do the service," I said. "I told you I would pay for it if we couldn't get the warranty issue resolved. Now I am stuck at work with no transportation and I don't have a way to get home tonight or get back to work in the morning, not to mention that my car still isn't repaired which means you'll have to keep it for another day. You never bothered to call and tell me any of this or inform me that I would have no transportation for another day. This should have taken no more than a couple hours. You've now had my car an entire day without doing anything. This is ridiculous. I want to speak to your manager."

Of course, the moment I dropped the word "manager" he immediately began to apologize and asked me if I wanted a loaner car and told me he could have the work done on my vehicle by 10am the next morning. I said I wanted to talk to a manager immediately and wanted someone to answer my questions about why no service had been done on my car and no one took the time to notify me of that fact. He put me on hold, then a few minutes later came back and told me his manager wasn't immediately available and he would have him call me.

An hour later, at 5:30pm, no one had called. So I called back and told the receptionist that I needed to talk to a manager immediately about the fact that my car was still there and I was without transportation. She took all my information, put me on hold, and then came back and told me the manager was in a meeting and would call me within 30 minutes.

An hour later, at 6:30pm, no one had called. So I called back again and demanded to speak to a manager. I was told they were all in a meeting, at which point I demanded someone interrupt the meeting and pull the manager out to talk to me.

Finally the manager, Andrew, got on the phone. I explained the situation to him. He never apologized. He just said "well I guess we need to figure out your transportation situation. We can call a cab for you to take you home tonight." I told him that I had already contacted a friend for a ride home because he hadn't returned my phone calls for hours and I wasn't going to sit around and wait for him.

He said he would have a shuttle at my house at 7:30 the next morning to bring me to the dealership and give me a loaner and get my service issue resolved.

At 7:05 this morning, the dealership called me and informed me their shuttle service doesn't start that early and they wouldn't be at my house until 8am.

I finally got to the dealership. The manager didn't bother to meet me there until I specifically requested to talk to him. I had to wait 15 minutes for him to show up. I explained the whole story to him and told him how appalled I was at the horrible customer service. His explanation was "obviously there were multiple breakdowns in communication." He then authorized a loaner vehicle for me and promptly walked off. I was at the dealership for nearly an hour, waiting to process the loaner.

More than two hours later, he called to tell me my warranty was approved and they would begin the brake repairs on my car. More than 24 hours after dropping it off, they are finally working on my car. And because of how long it has taken, I will not be able to pick up my car until tomorrow morning. Which means 48 hours after dropping it off for brake pads, I will have my car back.

Let me reiterate: no one from the company ever returned any of my calls. I had to call them. Every single time. No one informed me of any progress, or lack thereof, on my car. I had to ask for updates. Every single time. No one contacted me with regard to my warranty issues. No one confirmed my transportation needs after leaving me without a vehicle. No one apologized. And no one offered any sort of compensation or service or in any way attempted to redeem the situation.

Never, ever do business with Momentum MINI/BMW. I plan to tell everyone I know not to do business there. And I can't wait to fill out my customer "satisfaction" survey.

Hail Mary Pass?

2011-01-04T14:57:00.002-06:00

One thing I think I've well-established by now is the fact that my family is crazy. I know many of you think YOUR family is crazy. But mine is the real deal.

Even the family members who are closer to the sane end of the spectrum are still above the average level of crazy. Take my grandmother, as an example. She's generally a regular gramma, wearing her little cardigans and making the Christmas biscotti and fudge. But every once in awhile, you get a little taste of the crazy.

On Christmas Eve, as our family festivities were winding down, somehow the subject of dating came up. Now mind you, no one was questioning me or giving me grief about my dating life. We were merely discussing the issue. But gramma, who is a bit hard of hearing, got the wrong idea.

*Pause for momentary rabbit trail. Gramma can't hear very well anymore. She has a hearing aid, but doesn't like to actually use it. This is actually entertaining when someone says something like "close the front door" and gramma responds "what about the sweet corn?"

Ok, back to the story. So gramma hears the dating conversation, but she doesn't hear the actual details. So she jumps to the conclusion that everyone is making fun of me for being single. She jumps out of her chair, runs back to her bedroom, all the while yelling "hold on, hold on...God told me what's going to happen."

We're all a little confused at this point. She runs back into the room, clutching her rosary beads. "Now y'all stop making fun of her," she says to the room...still under the impression that I'm the butt of single-girl jokes. "God told me about your husband," she proclaims, thrusting the beads into my hands.

"Umm, ok Gramma. What did God tell you?"

"Look at that bead," she commands, pointing to one of the Our Fathers on the chain.

The beads are carved out of stone and I look closely at the one she points out. There's an aberration in the markings on the stone that looks like the number 35.

"God told me that 35 is for you," she announces. "When you're 35, you'll have a husband and a baby."

I'm a little unclear on whether I get the husband and the baby in the same year, or whether the husband comes earlier followed by the child, in which case by the time I'm 35 I will finally be a complete and whole person in the eyes of my family.

Either way, the beads have spoken.

Back on the Blogwagon

2011-01-03T14:38:00.003-06:00

Hello friends!

Apologies for my loooong absence from the QQ! I'm back and hope to be a bit more consistent with my stories.

Now settle in, chilluns. I've got a good one for ya. What could be a better way to start off the new year than with an Awkward Guy post?

The scene: A glitzy New Year's Eve party
The characters: Your heroine (looking stunning in a slinky little black number, if I do say so...), an Awkward Guy, supporting cast
The story:

There I was, standing next to a friend of mine chatting about this and that, when up walks a guy I've known for many years with another guy in tow behind him.
"Laurie, I want you to meet my friend, John. He and I used to be roommates long ago. He's in town this weekend and I wanted you to meet him."

There stands John, looking ever so slightly uncomfortable, but also a little overly eager.
"Hello, I'm Laurie. Nice to meet you. You're in town for the weekend? Obviously you don't live in Houston, where do you live now?"

John says he now lives in the hill country region of Texas, an area I myself used to live in. "OH!" I exclaim. "I used to live a few miles from there!"
John smiles, nods and says nothing.

Errrm. Ok let me try that again.

"It's such a pretty part of Texas!" I add.

John nods and says "yes it is." Then stares. For a long time. Saying nothing.

Meanwhile my two other friends who had been standing nearby have completely cleared out. I'm in a deadzone. There is no escape.

After a pause that felt like an eternity, John asks me what I do for a living.
"I work in radio," I reply.
"Which station?" he asks.
"The NPR affiliate," I respond.
"And you're a CHRISTIAN??!" he exclaims.

We are off to a great start.
Let me take a moment to pause and remind all you single fellas out there that insulting a woman about her occupation is usually not the best method to impress her. It's not like I said I'm a stripper. I work in radio. News broadcasting and classical music. Not exactly the devil's work.

So I proceed to lay into him about how much I love my job and that Christians need to stop complaining about liberal bias in the media and start being a part of the things going on around them etc etc etc...then I finally cooled down and ended my tirade with "so what do you do?"

"I'm an allergist." Long stare. Silence.

"Do you enjoy your work?" I ask.

"Yes, I do. You know they say it takes 100,000 people to support one allergist. So I travel a lot." Long stare. More silence.

Here's another free tip for the guys...you have to actually talk when you're having a conversation with a girl. You can't just stare. Or stand there. Or wait for her to come up with all the questions. Because what will happen is she will do exactly what I did, which is say "I'm going to go dance with my friends. Nice meeting you." And she will walk off and then blog about you.

Curiouser and Curiouser

2010-12-09T16:14:00.002-06:00

The other day we were busily working away in the newsroom, when a woman wandered in and stood in the middle of the room. My boss noticed her and asked if we could help her. She announced, matter of factly, "I'm here with __ (musical group) and I see that they are set up in the performance studio."

Oh ok, he replied, thinking perhaps she was just peeking in to see a working newsroom. We all went back to our work, buried in the rush of being on deadline.

And the woman continued to just stand there. And stand there. And stand there. It was beyond awkward. But everyone tried to be polite and pretend that it was completely normal for a total stranger to silently hover in the middle of our office.

Finally after several minutes, the woman loudly said "ARE you going to help me??"

"Excuse me?" my boss asked, startled.

"I've been standing here all this time and no one is helping me!" the woman responded.

My boss apologized and said he didn't realize that she needed help since he had already offered to help her earlier. She proceeded to complain and berate him for not taking her to the proper office or showing her where her group was performing (even though she had already informed us that she saw her group setting up in the studio).

She complained the whole way down the hall as he escorted her back to the area she had wandered away from.

Bizarre.

Adventures in House-Hunting, Part Deux

2010-12-07T17:37:00.002-06:00

Looking for a new place to live has provided very little in the way of solid leads, but great riches in the way of blog material. Let the storytelling commence...

I saw a cute apartment listed online, so contacted the owner to schedule a showing. It was a garage apartment behind his house, so he told me to drop by on the weekend and he would show me around. When I got there, he was outside with his little boy, doing yard work.

He introduced himself, then introduced me to his son, who appeared to be about two or three years old. I smiled at the little boy (we'll call him Theo) and introduced myself, but he merely turned away and continued digging in the dirt.

The dad started to lead me toward the apartment, when suddenly Theo ran up behind me and yelled "you smell like poop!"

Precious.

The dad, in a feeble attempt to cover for his son, said "what? You stepped in poop?"

Listen, Daddy-O, that is not what your darling child just said.

As though to confirm my inner monologue, Theo loudly repeated his earlier proclamation..."you smell like POOP!"

Dad keeps walking and casually over his shoulder says "Theo, don't step in poop."

We go inside the apartment. It's rather nice, nothing stunning, but certainly well-kept. The previous tenant hasn't removed all of his belongings so there is still quite a lot of furniture and electronics in the unit. He points out various amenities, all while Theo systematically runs around the apartment, banging a shovel on the tenants stereo and furniture.

Charming.

Finally, the dad clues in to what his lovely child is doing and tells Theo to stop. Theo does not stop. So the dad takes the shovel away from Theo. At which point Theo proceeds to throw a temper tantrum, wailing and screaming. So what does the dad do? He picks Theo up, cradles him in his arms, gives him a kiss on the cheek and hands the shovel back to him.

After he shows me the apartment, we're walking out and locking up and he says "by the way, do you babysit?"

I tell you, I cannot make this stuff up.

Ringing in the holidays the Muppet way

2010-12-02T18:23:00.001-06:00

You shoulda seen the other guy...

2010-12-01T16:56:00.003-06:00

I had a fight with the dishwasher. The dishwasher won.

How to Annoy a Reporter

2010-11-23T13:44:00.002-06:00

A step-by-step tutorial:

First, send out a press release about an event. Include the time, address and purpose, but don't include any contact information or phone numbers.

Next, make sure the address causes the reporter to end up at a huge locked gate in front of the building, with no access point, call button or security shack.

After the reporter uses her smart phone to look up a phone number for your organization, make sure the main number routes her through a generic automated answering system.

Reporters are wily, so she'll probably figure out how to get a live person to answer her call eventually. When she succeeds, be sure to have the operator direct her around to the back gate of the facility for access. Don't tell her that the back gate is flooded.

After she discovers the flooding, she will probably call again, demanding answers. Make sure someone different answers the phone this time.

Tell the reporter you will put her on hold while you investigate the matter. Leave her on hold for at least five minutes. During this time, you can choose whether or not to actually investigate the issue regarding access to the building. Your call. Finally, pick the line back up and in doing so "accidentally" disconnect the call.

Depending on her tenacity, she may give up altogether and leave without attending the press conference. In this case, you have been successful in your handling of the situation.

However, be advised that she may be so angered that she takes measures into her own hands, drives back around to the front of the building, honking her horn until someone walks out, at which point she may demand to be allowed inside to attend the now completed press conference.

If this happens, know that you did everything in your power to make the process as frustrating as possible. Good job.

Adventures in House-Hunting

2010-11-22T17:55:00.002-06:00

I'm planning to move in a few weeks and have looked at one or two places so far. I'll just be renting, not buying, but the experience has been...interesting...so far. I've only checked out a couple spots because it's a bit early to finalize anything.

The first place I looked at came about by driving through a neighborhood. I spied a cute little place with a For Rent sign out front. So I called the number and chatted with the owner about the details of price, size etc. He told me his wife could meet me there to show me the property if I wanted to see it right away, so I agreed.

A few minutes later she pulled up...a very cute little old lady bundled in a sweater, cheerily waving at me. Mentally, I thought this could be a good sign.

As we walked up to the apartment she was telling me about the property. "There's the main house, which we own, and the apartment in the back which we lease out. We're the landlords, so you'd be dealing directly with us."

"Oh, so do you and your husband live in the house?" I asked, politely, trying to make conversation.

She stopped, looked at me and said, in a none too pleasant voice, "NO. I told you. I know it's hard to listen, but I already informed you we're the landlords. We don't live here. We just rent it. Landlord means we rent it."

Then she headed up the stairs, cheerily informing me of the various amenities.
I made a mental note to scratch this one off the list.
Even if the apartment was adorable, the landlady was not.

Now this is a chemistry class I would enjoy...

2010-11-16T11:33:00.001-06:00

The Chain

2010-11-15T16:15:00.002-06:00

the sky looks pissed
the wind talks back
my bones are shifting in my skin
and you, my love, are gone

my room seems wrong
the bed won't fit
I cannot seem to operate
and you, my love, are gone

so glide away on soapy heels
and promise not to promise anymore
and when you come around again
then I will take the chain from off the door

I'll never say I'll never love
but I don't say a lot of things
and you, my love, are gone

so glide away on soapy heels
and promise not to promise anymore
and when you come around again
then I will take...
then I will the chain from off the door

Beans, beans...the magical legume

2010-11-10T13:18:00.002-06:00

I made a big pot of beans last night. I figured I could eat some for lunches this week and freeze the rest. I tried out a new recipe. It has white beans and herbs with Italian-style turkey sausage. The only problem is, I don't like it very much. I mean, it's not bad...but it's not all that great either. So now I'm left with a dilemma. Do I force myself to eat the leftovers? Or do I throw out perfectly good food that just doesn't appeal to me?

What do you do in these situations?

Secret Footage

2010-11-09T15:55:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I saw a woman in the grocery store wearing skin-tight white pants, with red and white striped underwear. Naturally, I know what her underwear looked like because I could see them straight through her pants. Incidentally, she had the beginning of a wedgie forming.

I really wanted to film her for secret footage on What Not to Wear. (If you aren't familiar with this show, you MUST check it out. I can honestly say it's the only fashion show out there that actually makes me want to get rid of things instead of buy things.)

I think it's going to be a new goal of mine to get someone onto the show. So beware...when you're around me I may be looking for fashion violations. You have been warned.

Splish Splash

2010-11-05T15:32:00.003-05:00

Last night I was out with some friends at the uber-trendy Benjy's location on Washington. We were enjoying happy hour on the terrace. We were definitely part of "the scene." Everyone looked fierce, dressed to the nines. (What does that phrase even mean?)

Can you picture it? A bunch of 20- and 30-somethings, sipping wine and noshing on upscale bits and bites, laughing and talking under the soft lights of the chic patio.

It was a birthday celebration. We presented a gorgeous fruit tart with sparkling candles to the birthday girl. The flames flickered in the dusk, as we softly sang and laughed under the stars. It was like a scene out of a movie.

Chatting with my friends, I began slicing pieces of the tart, dishing them out to those around me. And in the process, knocked over my entire glass of RED wine directly onto the guy sitting across from me. He, along with his lovely suit, was drenched in Pinot Noir. I was mortified. It was literally dripping off of him, streaming down his jacket.

He was very kind and gracious about it. The suit was dark and he assured me it wouldn't be ruined. His white shirt, on the other hand, won't be so fortunate. But he laughed and said "You know, Laurie...I've always secretly wanted to have a moment where a woman threw her glass of wine in my face. Thanks for making that happen for me."

Maybe the evening was more like a movie than I realized.

2010-11-03T16:40:00.002-05:00

There's a TV on the wall above my head. (This is normal in a newsroom...go with it.) I just glanced up and saw Oprah on her fishing/camping expedition that has been much hyped on the network. Right now she is wading into a stream, attempting to fly-fish.

The thought struck me...what if video crews followed me around all day long on vacation? I have the day off tomorrow. Maybe I should document my activities. I think they will go something like this:

Sleep late
Eat some breakfast (contents TBD)
Wash laundry
Shop for groceries
Check Facebook
Eat lunch
Take nap
etc etc etc

I think this is going to be a big hit.

Wow. Just...Wow.

2010-10-29T15:33:00.001-05:00

Advertising Fail

2010-10-29T12:56:00.003-05:00

I have a sudden craving for orange juice. I think it's because I just glanced up at the TV screen above me in the newsroom and saw a woman chugging from a giant jug of orange juice. Ironically, the commercial was instructing me not to bother with such antiquated ways of boosting one's immune system.

Instead, I'm supposed to crave Airborne.

Mmmm, a refreshing glass of Airborne....

Nope. It's not working. I still want orange juice.

Going to the Chapel...and we're...hoping to get married

2010-10-27T15:51:00.003-05:00

Four of my girlfriends got engaged last weekend. Four. That's a lot. I'm very delighted for all of them. Truly. But as a single girl, it's hard not to feel a bit sad at the same time. All sorts of thoughts go through my mind, most of them along the lines of "will it ever happen for me?"

Warning: Don't tell your married friends that you feel this way. They mean well, but they usually respond with something along the lines of "enjoy being single. Marriage is harder than you realize" or the always encouraging "there's someone out there for you"...etc etc.

Saying that to a single person is sort of like eating a big piece of fudge in front of your friend who is on a diet and telling her that it's not as good as it looks and she should be grateful she's on a diet. I'm not saying the diet isn't beneficial. It is. But that's little consolation when what she really wants and absolutely cannot have is a piece of fudge.

Even on a diet, it's possible to indulge now and then in a taste of fudge. But for single men and women, there is no way to enjoy marriage without being married. It's something that is absolutely impossible for us to experience until and unless we get married some day. In the meantime, it's unattainable.

Please note, I'm not addressing this to any particular married friend. It's just a trend I've observed in the responses I get from married people when the issue of singleness arises. There seems to be an assumption that because you got married and realized an end to your singlehood, then all your single friends will do the same. I know you mean well. And I know that marriage is much harder than single people can ever understand because we're...well...not married.

If you're married, it can be easy to forget the loneliness and heartache that often comes with singleness. The best kind of "consolation" you can offer is simply to listen to your friend who is hurting or who feels forgotten or overlooked. Love them. Hug them. Tell them you remember what it felt like and you are praying for them. Or, tell them you don't remember what it felt like because you got married at a young age, but you are praying for them. Don't try to minimize their singleness or offer empty platitudes about marital status and future.

Just be a friend. A married friend.

Trick or Treat!

2010-10-25T14:44:00.001-05:00

This is funny. And includes some interesting costume ideas.

Things I want to do (in no particular order)

2010-10-22T12:25:00.002-05:00

Some of these are things I've done before and want to do again. Others are things I've never done. Either way, these are the things on my mind that I really want to do. Soon.

Take a nap under a tree
Visit NYC around Christmas
Bake a pie
Read A Tale of Two Cities
Watch Inception
Walk through crunchy leaves
See a play
Get a new haircut
Buy a fancy dress
Cook soup
Throw a dinner party
Throw a breakfast party
Pull a prank

Overheard in Houston

2010-10-20T12:53:00.003-05:00

I was walking down the street past City Hall today, and passed by two men who appeared to be homeless or at least down on their luck. I really REALLY wish I could have heard the beginning or the end of their conversation. As it was I only heard this one snippet:

One man to the other: "You're a good-looking guy. You really are. Remember that, just remember how good-looking you are."

I can't say I agree with him, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Important Women's Health Issue - Please Read

2010-10-18T12:11:00.002-05:00

*Do you have feelings of inadequacy?
*Do you suffer from shyness?
*Do you sometimes wish you were more assertive?
*Do you suffer from exhaustion from the day to day grind?

If you answered yes to any of those questions, ask your doctor or pharmacist about Margaritas.

Margaritas are the safe, natural way to feel better and more confident about yourself and your actions. You will notice the benefits of Margaritas almost immediately and with a regimen of regular doses you can overcome any obstacles that keep you from living the life you want to have.

Stop hiding and start living, with Margaritas.

Margaritas may not be right for everyone. Women who are nursing or pregnant should not use Margaritas. However, women who wouldn't mind nursing or becoming pregnant are encouraged to try it.

Side effects may include:
-Dizziness
-Nausea
-Vomiting
-Incarceration
-Lustfulness
-Loss of motor control
-Loss of clothing
-Loss of money
-Loss of virginity
-Table Dancing
-Headache
-Dehydration
-Dry mouth
-And a desire to sing Karaoke

My Big Fat Cajun Family

2010-10-13T10:06:00.003-05:00

We all have crazy families, but I'm pretty sure mine is still one of the best when it comes to making me cringe in public. You know how teenagers act when their parents do something uncool? That's how I feel, to about the Nth power, when my family is out of control in the public realm.

Case in point: We had a family birthday last weekend and celebrated by having a picnic at the park. As we were finishing our meal, another family started to set up nearby. The grampa in their group walked by our table and said "Bon Appetit!" My dad responded enthusiastically with the reply "Oh thanks! We've already boned our petite."

Facepalm.

Sometimes I wish I was Jewish, so I could say "oi" and really mean it.

There must have been a look of utter horror on my face, because my mom turned to me with her lips pursed and pointedly said to me "When you lived in MY house you wouldn't have known what that word even meant!"

That was a decade ago, Mom. And I knew what it meant, even then. I just pretended to be naive because I didn't want to discuss euphemisms with my parents. Forgive me.

Being Watched

2010-10-11T12:28:00.002-05:00

As if Facebook and Twitter aren't enough for stalking, my Starbucks barista has apparently started keeping track of me as well.
Oh it all started innocently enough...I hadn't gone into the shop for a few weeks, so when I finally showed up the guy said "Hey, I haven't seen you in awhile. I was wondering what happened to you."

The next time I went in, he saw me at the counter and quickly said "so, will it be the grande non-fat no-whip mocha?" Now I know it's common for the baristas to memorize what people order, but keep in mind, I only visit Starbucks once a week. Not every day.

Last week, I went in on a particularly busy day. By the time I got to the counter, he had already prepared my drink and had it waiting for me...accompanied by the comment "I saw you come in and noticed you're running a bit late today, so I've got your drink ready."

What will this week bring? I'm fully expecting him to ask how my family lunch went this weekend and whether I enjoyed my time at the park. He's...watching...

In case you missed it...the history of rap

2010-10-06T11:17:00.000-05:00

The Fridge Chronicles

2010-09-28T11:07:00.003-05:00

We're one week into our crusade for a better tomorrow...namely the fridge clean-up effort. You can see for yourself how things went.

Those vegetables on the top shelf are literally sitting in a pool of sludge. The jug of iced "tea" has been there for weeks. The milk was never even opened and is now well past its due date. I expect a live birth any day. Tune in next week for an update of The Fridge Chronicles...

Kindly - adj: of an agreeable or beneficial nature

2010-09-27T08:56:00.000-05:00

Last week I received a delivery of a beautiful arrangement of flowers. They came as thanks for a service I provided to someone. They were unexpected and are sitting on my desk now, brightening my workspace and reminding me of someone's thoughtfulness and gratitude.

A couple weeks ago, a friend of mine bought a beautiful centerpiece for me at a charity event. He gave them to me, not because he's trying to woo me or had some sort of motive...but simply because he wanted to give me something I would enjoy.

I've been reflecting on kindnesses done for me. One that comes to mind over and over is the time I was at a family's home for a church event with some junior high kids. At the end of the evening, I went out to my car and drove home. It wasn't until the next day that I realized my car was quite a bit more shiny and clean than I remembered it being the day before. Turns out, the dad at the house I was visiting washed my car while it sat on his driveway. He did it simply because he wanted to and because it was a way of doing something kind and thoughtful for me. That was several years ago. I still remember it as being one of the nicest things someone has done for me.

So I'm thinking this week about what kinds of nice things I could do for others. I encourage you to do the same. Something as simple as washing someone's car could make a memory that stays with them for years to come.

Friday Fun

2010-09-24T07:56:00.000-05:00

This is kind of addictive.

Things You Should Know

2010-09-23T07:42:00.002-05:00

There are certain things you should know if you're over the age of...oh let's say 20...just to be lenient.

Here are some of those things, in no particular order.

Eke and eek are two different words with different meanings. They are not interchangeable.

Same rule applies to loose and lose. Please. Just...don't.

Know the correct saying or colloquialism before you quote it. No, it is not a doggy dog world. Nor are the ideas of March upon you.

If your last name ends with an 's' please know the rules for making it plural and/or possessive. Yes, the Jones family can come to dinner. No, we won't be having dinner at the Jones's. We might water the Joneses' plants. Mr. Jones' bunny is adorable. And you can keep up with the Joneses if you like.

There will be a pop quiz.

The Office (Refrigerator)

2010-09-21T13:18:00.002-05:00

This is what it looks like. On a good day. Maybe I should start blogging about the life of the office fridge. At least our public radio credentials are mostly intact -- there's soy milk, lots of yogurt (though not much of it is organic), groceries from Whole Foods and Vietnamese take-out. Basically our fridge screams "Hipsters work here. Lazy ones."

When I hear about Tropical Storm Igor, this is all I can think about...

2010-09-20T14:33:00.000-05:00

Things I should probably not say to boys...

2010-09-09T17:54:00.003-05:00

"If you go to this event with me, you have to make out with me afterward."

I'm sure he knew I was joking. I mean clearly it's a joke. No one would take me seriously. Right?
I guess I'll find out...

Fear of commitment?

2010-09-07T14:10:00.002-05:00

Sunday at church I was sitting in an aisle among several friends. A guy I know asked if he could sit next to me and I told him that was fine. He then proceeded to sit down one seat away, leaving a space between us. I gave him a funny look and said "Um, so you don't want to sit next to me?"

He got a puppy dog look on his face and replied "I don't want to fall in love."

Being Beautiful

2010-09-06T18:44:00.000-05:00

As long as I can remember, I have hated my body. I hit puberty relatively early in life, around the age of 10. I also began gaining weight around the same time...and have never remembered a time since then when I didn't feel fat, ugly or undesirable.

Yes, I know I'm sharing a lot. You don't have to keep reading if it makes you uncomfortable.

My lifelong battle with my weight has shaped nearly every thought I have about my personal appearance.

"I am ugly," I tell myself. Oh sure, I have pretty green eyes and quite nice lips and killer eyelashes. But, in my mind, my fat body negates all those. It doesn't matter how nice my face is, if my body looks the way it does with all its jiggles and stretch marks and flab.

"No one could love this," I think critically, as I stare at myself in the mirror. "Who would choose me, when there are so many beautiful women out there?"

And, unfortunately, my life experience reinforces that thought. The one serious relationship I've had ended when the guy cheated on me and left me for a much younger, much thinner, much more physically beautiful girl.

So to fight those fears, I remind myself that the Lord doesn't see as men see, for men look on the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart. But even then, I end up in the spiral of self-hatred.

"Why, Lord? Why did you make men that way...so focused on physical appearance?" I plead. "You could have made them to look at who a person is, rather than how a person looks!"

Then the Lord gently reminds me that I am doing the very same thing that I accuse men of doing: I am more concerned with my body than I am with the state of my heart. I worry more about looking beautiful than about being beautiful. I think more about having a lovely body than about having a lovely character.

So I work to refocus my heart and energy on what really matters. And I try to remember that beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
This is true. But every woman wants to be beautiful.

Earlier this year, a man who I respect and admire very much looked me in the eye and said "I want you to know that you are beautiful." It was the only time I've ever heard a man say those words to me. And it was the only time I can remember believing that it might be true.

As much as I treasure that moment, that one experience only takes me so far in my effort to overcome nearly 20 years of thinking negatively about myself.

Then last week I stumbled across something called the Beautiful Women Project. It's an art exhibit depicting the torsos of 120 women between the ages of 19 and 91. As I looked at the images of real women, I was struck by how few of them look anything like what we see on TV or in magazines. In fact, most of them look the opposite. But...they are beautiful.

They aren't perfect. They aren't ideal. But they are beautiful. They are fat. They are flabby. Some have breasts that sag. Some have no breasts at all. But they are beautiful.

They look like me.

And if that's the case, then I must be beautiful too.

Try Coloring OUTSIDE the Lines

2010-09-01T14:55:00.002-05:00

Yesterday I went into the staff kitchen to warm up my frozen meal for lunch. One of my coworkers was already using the microwave, heating up her own lean cuisine. I patiently waited, and chatted, as her food cooked. When it was done, she made no move to take it out of the microwave. So I politely asked "Is that yours? Is it done?"

"Yes, it's finished," she replied. "But the box says it needs to sit in the microwave for one to two minutes before you remove it. So you'll have to wait another minute or so."

Seriously?

Another coworker happened to overhear this exchange and kindly came to my aid by gently saying "you know, it's ok to just let it sit on the counter for a minute. It doesn't have to sit inside the microwave."

Coworker Number 1 coolly ignored that hint and repeated firmly "wait another minute and then I'll take it out."

If I were a different kind of person, I would have pulled her lean cuisine out of the microwave and plopped it on the counter. But I'm not that kind of person. So I sat there and waited to warm up my lunch until she deemed that it had been "resting" long enough and freed up the microwave for public use.

I love my job.

Reason #342 Why I Love My Job

2010-08-23T15:45:00.003-05:00

Walking through the hall today, a colleague casually introduced me to Mike Barratt. That would be the same Mike Barratt who was the lead crew surgeon for the International Space Station and more recently spent 199 days in space as a NASA Mission Specialist.

Chatting with him on the elevator, he mentioned his five children, ranging in age from 9 to 23. He also gave me the best quote of the day: "Space flight is easy. Raising children...now that's hard."

Meet Marshel...oops, I mean Marcel

2010-08-20T16:12:00.000-05:00

MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON from Dean Fleischer-Camp on Vimeo.

Best Quote of the Week

2010-08-18T16:46:00.002-05:00

Coworker on the phone with an angry listener...

"So you're still mad at me?"

"I'm extremely mad at you. But you do have a nice voice."

Classic.

On my mind

2010-08-13T15:05:00.004-05:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about the girls and women rescued and ministered to by the people at Charasia. For those of you who haven't heard about them, they are an India-based ministry that rescues young girls from the red light districts. Check out their website and see the many girls who now live in safety, surrounded by love, at the Charasia home.

Today in the news, Houston police arrested a mother and grandmother for forcing a 14-year-old girl into prostitution. Child prostitution is a global problem, not just a third-world issue. In fact, Houston is one of the worst cities in the United States for human and sex trafficking. Our geography close to the border and aligned along I-10 and I-45 positions us perfectly for the purposes of the evil people who devote their lives to the devastation of women and children.

I've long enjoyed the band Delta Spirit and every time I listen to their music I'm reminded of one of their most powerful songs, Streetwalker. It's on a mostly happy, mellow album called Ode to Sunshine.
Take a listen and read the lyrics. I hope you find it disturbing and uncomfortable. We all should.

Streetwalker ~ Delta Spirit

Streetwalker knows how to strut right
She knows the truth
Bad boys walking through the corridor
God knows what they're gonna do

Darkness paraded across the headlines:
'Little girl stolen from her bedroom'
Homeless, beat to death or put out
Hopeless, greedy and cruel

Oh why can't I feel for you?
My heart is so blind to you

Her head was spinning like a hurricane
Tina was singing her name
Old men like to rape her in the red light
She's too young and numb to complain

Little boy, bought at the age of six
Down the street, he's wearing a dress
Look at his face, you won't see no innocence
He's got so much experience

Oh why can't I feel for you?
They lie. What can I do?

Oh Love, set me free!
Set me free!
Come on and set me free!

Oh Lord, set me free!
Set me free!
Come on and set me free!

Underground...the German Casanova
Underground...the Panamanian Queen
He whispers: 'Down here the law will never find you.
Down here I'm your god and king.'

It's a sin to sit and just do nothing
There's a special place in hell for me
Oh God I just gotta do something
I swear to God this is happening

Oh Lord, set me free!
Set me free!
It could've been me!

Oh Lord, set them free!
Set them free!
Oh it could have been me...

My Celebrity Boyfriend Sets the Record Straight (Warning: Contains Language)

2010-08-11T18:54:00.001-05:00

Meet the Neighbors

2010-08-09T17:08:00.002-05:00

Some new neighbors moved into the townhouse directly behind ours. We're all for meeting the new neighbors, but we weren't expecting to happen in quite the way it did.

The new guy backed out of his garage...directly into ours.

Our garage is now leaning. Welcome to the neighborhood!

From Our Moscow Bureau

2010-08-03T15:06:00.001-05:00

I just found an old Moscow update that I somehow forgot to post. My apologies to the Moscow Correspondent for leaving this one unpublished for so long. It's a little hard to empathize with the story in Houston's August heat, but hopefully the QQ readers will enjoy the mental escape.
*******

Winter is a wonderful time. It makes most folks think of snow, warm coats, funny looking ski hats, and hot chocolate (or tea depending which side of the pond you were born). What it should make you think about is falling on the ice.

I've fallen down more times in the past two months than I've fallen in the last 15 years. Last month I fell on the street and literally did the Nestea plunge flat on my back on the hard iced over concrete. The only thing that broke my fall was my coworker's laptop that I had offered to carry home in my backpack (he'll never ask me to do that again).

I've also fallen on the cold frozen granite steps that lead down into the subway. The icing on the cake (get it! Icing!) from that experience was landing on the broken beer bottle that some bum had discarded at the end of the stairwell. I ended up getting glass in my shoe and had to remove both my shoes and socks so that I could get the shards out of my foot (how would you like to have been sitting next to me on the train for that little medical procedure?).

But the best so far was when I fell while walking to the grocery store near my flat. I tried to grab a light pole to keep from falling but it too was iced over. In a last ditch effort I flung my leg around the pole and slid down it until I ended up sitting on my butt in the middle of the busy sidewalk. One guy actually stopped and looked at me and snickered. I like to think he was considering stuffing a dollar bill in my…you get the picture.

I've decided now that the best way to confront my ineptness on the ice is to go to ice skating rinks and practice falling in a controlled environment. I've already been a couple of times this year to the ice skating rinks around town and I believe that it is helping hone my skills for navigating my way to/from the office each day. Don't get me wrong. I still fall occasionally. Come to think of it, I still fall a lot. Maybe if I wore a sequin-covered unitard while walking on this glacier that they call a city I would have more agility. Maybe…

-Chaz Michael Michaels aka The Moscow Correspondent

It's a frog's life

2010-07-29T17:52:00.009-05:00

Last night I got home a bit late, turned on the lights, walked into the kitchen and found this:

Now at first glance you might think it's a cute, harmless, helpless frog like this:

But it wasn't. It was a scaly, shriveled, disgusting frog like this:

So I called every guy I could think of in a ten mile radius to help me get it out of my house. Several of them didn't answer their phones. A few of them responded like this:

But one of them (after laughing a little bit) showed up at my house to rescue me from the clutches of the evil frog, making me think of this:

He then affirmed my decision to call for help by telling me that picking up the frog "was pretty gross" and that I could call him any time I needed help and he would be on the way, which made me feel like this:

And probably made him feel a little like this:

So after the heroic rescue, everyone was happy, except the frog. Who was dead. The end.

Church Music

2010-07-28T12:00:00.002-05:00

Anything I could tell you about the David Crowder Band, you probably already know. I'll just say this: David Crowder continues to amaze me with the way he stretches the boundaries of what we consider worship music. I love how he does that. I know of very few Christian musicians who can turn techno-dance music into true, God-glorifying worship. Or conversely, turn an almost erotic love song into passionate delight in the Lord. I LOVE his cover of Flyleaf's All Around Me. It takes worship to a place most of us are uncomfortable with, and yet he makes it so...right. If you haven't heard Church Music yet, give the album a listen.

All Around Me ~ Flyleaf

My hands are searching for you
My arms are outstretched toward you
I feel you on my fingertips
My tongue dances behind my lips for you

This fire rising through my being
Burning, I'm not used to seeing you

I'm alive
I'm alive

I can feel you all around me
Thickening the air I'm breathing
Holding onto what I'm feeling
Savoring this heart that's healing

My hands float up above me
And you whisper you love me
And I begin to fade
Into our secret place

The music makes me sway
The angels singing say we are alone with you
I am alone and they are too, with you

I'm alive
I'm alive

I can feel you all around me
Thickening the air I'm breathing
Holding onto what I'm feeling
Savoring this heart that's healing

And so I cry
The light is white
And I see you

Take my hand, I give it to you
Now you own me, all I am
You said you would never leave me
I believe you, I believe

Surprise Endings

2010-07-27T14:37:00.002-05:00

Not long ago, I was visiting a friend at his house where he was hosting a handful of people for a small party. After the party, as people were clearing up and heading out, he asked me if I'd like a quick tour of his home. Of course, I told him.

He showed me around in the few downstairs areas I hadn't seen before proceeding upstairs. Upstairs, he ushered me into the study (messy), the master bedroom (large) and moved on to the guest bedroom.

He opened the door, we both screamed and he slammed the door shut again.

Any guesses what was behind Door #3?

Yes, dear readers, it was one of my good guy friends, changing clothes before he went to another event.

They called it the special "LJ Tour."

Red Bull?

2010-07-21T13:24:00.003-05:00

I have a recently developed theory (and by "recently" I mean just this moment) that the best and most universally loved fruits are all red. I mean, think about it for a minute. We all know people who detest bananas. We are ambivalent toward oranges most of the time. Green grapes amuse us for a while, but ultimately don't win the popularity contest. Red is where it's at.

Raspberries
Cherries
Watermelon
Red grapes
Plums
Strawberries

I have no idea what use or purpose this theory has, but since when do theories have to be useful? Also I really wish I could add peaches to the list, but they're not red. They're peach.

Revenge of the televangelists

2010-07-20T16:16:00.002-05:00

Every once in awhile, I volunteer in my church bookstore. I'm in charge of running a register and helping with customers. Last Sunday, the store was very quiet and only one other volunteer was in there with me. The phone rang and I answered it, hearing an unusual voice on the other end. I couldn't decide if the caller was a man or a woman...it was definitely an older person with a high pitched voice.

The caller asked me my name and I told him/her. Then he/she said "can you find out if your store carries a book I'm looking for?" "Of course," I replied. "It's called I Was Healed, by Benny Hinn," the caller informed me.

Ummm. Houston, we have a problem.

Now I didn't want to be rude to this older she-male on the phone, but I also knew that there was no way my church would carry any of Benny Hinn's books or products. I wasn't sure how to tell her/him that, so I politely said "I don't think we carry that, but let me check our inventory and make sure."

I put the caller on hold and told the other volunteer that this person was looking for a book by Benny Hinn and if we somehow carried it I was quitting then and there.

Of course, it wasn't in our inventory. I got back on the phone and said "I'm so sorry, we don't carry any of Benny Hinn's books."
The caller responded "oh honey I wish you had that book. It's so amazing. I've been a member of the church for 20 years and it's one of the most beautiful books I've ever read. Benny Hinn writes about finding a treasure box and then he opens the box. And do you know what's inside that box?"
"Um, no," I say.
All of a sudden the person's voice changes to a man's voice with a normal pitch and he says "it was filled with a load of crap like I'm giving you!"

I was speechless. The guy starts cracking up laughing, saying "oh I got you! I got you good!" Turns out it was a friend of mine from the church, calling just to mess with me.

He did get me. He got me good. But you know what they say about payback...it's a...hassle.

2010-07-16T22:56:00.001-05:00

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

~Pablo Neruda

On being forgettable

2010-07-16T13:50:00.002-05:00

Before my vacation to Colorado, I sent an email to about a dozen friends, asking if anyone could take me to and pick me up from the airport. Several people responded and I made arrangements with two of them for rides.

One of my guy friends volunteered as the one to pick me up when I arrived back in town. I sent him all my flight information and confirmed that he would be available.

The night before my flight he sent me a text message confirming that he was still scheduled to pick me up.

The morning of my flight he sent me another text message that said he would be at the airport at 8pm to get me.

The night of my flight he forgot me.

The only acceptable version of a Ke$ha song

2010-07-15T18:55:00.000-05:00

Irony, Meet Thy Thief

2010-07-14T14:36:00.002-05:00

So yesterday my car was broken into. It was parked in the middle of my office parking lot, surrounded by the coworkers' cars. The "incident" happened some time during the middle of the afternoon, when our parking lot is usually quite busy.

The perpetrator(s) used some sort of tool to wedge between the front and back window and popped the front window to smithereens. It appears they were after a work bag I had in the back seat. I suspect they thought the bag contained a laptop. It didn't. All that was inside was a microphone and digital recorder and other odds and ends of the journalistic trade. They had no use for any of the stuff and dumped it back in the car and ran off. Here's where the irony comes in. My laptop was in the car. It was hidden underneath my driver's side seat. If they had looked closely, they could have seen the edge peeking out. But they missed it completely, got nothing for their time or effort and left me with a busted up car.

Part of me feels victorious. I foiled the would-be villains!
Part of me feels stupid. I left the bag in my car where anyone could see it.
Part of me feels grateful. It could have been much worse than just a broken window.

Mostly I just feel tired. Tired of dealing with grown-up problems. Tired of doing all of this alone. Tired of having no one to turn to and no one to cry with when bad things happen. Tired.

And then I remember that I have someone who sings me to sleep every night (Zeph 3:17). I have someone who loves me with an everlasting love (Jer 31:3). I have someone who satisfies me and makes me feel young again (Psalm 103:5). I have someone who protects me when I feel alone and scared (Psalm 27:5).

I have someone.