Authentically Me, Dasha Dee!

Best Husband Award

2012-02-18T12:19:00.000-08:00

I have the best husband in the whole world.

He dragged me away from studying,

surprising me with lunch at Claire's in Long Beach!

The window view was gorgeous, and the setting divine -

but my favorite part was looking across the table at my Best Friend. :)

The Whole Tooth and Nuthin' But The Tooth

2012-02-16T21:23:00.000-08:00

I just wanna say, before we get into this post, that I really do brush and floss my teeth! The nasty gnasher shown below will do its best to convince you otherwise.

This is a picture of my poor, decayed molar, "Upper Right #1."
Dental X-rays showed extensive damage which included the nerves, so that meant ...*cringe* ...a root canal.

that's one mephitic molar

See those three black spots? They're the cave-like openings to the canals that house live dental nerves. When you get a "root canal" you're not really getting a root canal - you're getting the root canals you already have filled in.

But I digress.

When the endodontist opened these puppies up to excavate the damaged nerves in my tooth, all he found was pus. (Bleh.) The nerves themselves were dead, but the empty canals were bacteria laden (you know, considering the pus and all) - so the dentist drilled them out, thoroughly disinfected, and put a temporary filling on the tooth 'till the infection cleared up.

This, by the way, is Dr. Sadek from Marina Endodontics:

Photo courtesy of Marina Endodontics

He is by far the best dentist I've ever visited. He is kind, professional, and he very patiently answered every question I had. (An' you know I can ask me some questions!) He explained the entire procedure to me while it was in progress, so I never wondered what was going on, or what was going to happen next.

On top of that, he took such care with the numbing process I never felt a thing. Not even the initial numbing shot! I had heard horror stories of root canal procedures that sounded positively medieval, but mine, conducted in two parts, was relatively* painless. Additionally, he also took the time to email me pictures of my teeth, like this one:

I went back a week later for the actual filling-in of the root canals, shown above as red sploches. It was a very interesting process, and of course I asked a thousand questions right up until the point where my mouth was wedged open with gadgets and gizmos.

Basically Dr. Sadek had these long thin flexible toothpick like thingies that he carefully shaped and placed into the cleaned canals. He then heated them up with one of the aforementioned gizmos, which melted them into the canals, effectively sealing them up.

Here's one of the "after" x-rays, showing the filled canals. Cool huh? (They kinda look like alien fingers.) See how the canal on the far right actually bends at almost a 90 degree angle to the left?

It's a testimony to Dr. Sadek's genius that he got that sucker drilled out and filled without breaking any tools off in the process. If you're in Long Beach, CA area and need a root canal - Dr. Sadek is the endodontist for you!

There is still one more chapter to go before the book can be closed on my toothy tale. Now that the root canal is finished, I have to have that molar crowned. I went back to my general practice dentist earlier this week to have it molded and topped with a temporary cap. The permanent crown will be in on March 6th - stay tuned for the official coronation.

*There was that little episode of "who hit me in the face with a baseball bat" when the anesthetic wore off, but it only lasted a few hours, and some discomfort was to be expected.

Old Friends

2012-02-15T20:12:00.000-08:00

I was walking across a Vanguard parking lot with some friends today when a funny thing happened.

A professor I know of - but have never met - was coming out of a building when he caught sight of us.

Waving and grinning broadly, he advanced in our direction, apparently focused on me.

Being friendly by nature, and naturally curious, I beamed a big smile back, wondering what in the world was going to happen next.

He took my hands familiarly,

looked me in the eye,

~did a double take~

and said sheepishly,

"You are not who I thought you were!"

Crowning Glory

2012-02-14T10:49:00.000-08:00

Today was episode four in the saga of my dental crown. Not to be confused with the royal, bejeweled type, although now that I think about it, the multi-step process has kinda been a royal pain in the...

But I digress.

Enlarge the above picture about 500 times and you'll have a good idea of my view for the past two hours!

Dr. Brady and his wonderful assistant did a great job fitting my recently root-canalled tooth with it's temporary topper.

Only three more weeks till the final coronation!

Toro! Toro!

2012-02-13T12:32:00.000-08:00

It's no secret that Mama don't cook.

So I generally don't post every time Rob and I eat out...

cuz, ya know, that'd be three posts a day.

But I couldn't resist sharing these pics

to give you an idea
of just how much fun "empty nest" can be.

(Yes, those are cardboard kiddie hats)

Our crazy waiter leaped into the the shot

when he realized I was taking a picture :)

Pretty good considering he had a tray of drinks

and didn't spill a drop!

Ah-riiiiba!

Third Time's a Charm

2012-02-12T22:28:00.000-08:00

You'd think experiences like THIS and THIS would have left a lasting impression on me.

Yet, sadly, they didn't. Because tonight...

This is how the conversation went in my house tonight:

Rob: Why didn't you just go get your hair done?
Me: Because I didn't want to pay $130.00 dollars.
Rob: How much was that kit thingie?
Me: Seven bucks.
Rob: So, now you'll spend $137.00 dollars to get your hair done?
Me: ...

Moose on the Loose

2012-02-11T22:58:00.000-08:00

When I forget to close the screen door to the back porch, I get some interesting company. Last week it was a bird, today it was Little Missy. (Although, after what I saw her and Mr. Nutter doing in the tree earlier, I should call her Brazen Hussy! Looks like we're gonna have baby squirrels around here come Spring.)

Anyhoo, as much as I love my California "company," I'm tempted to move to Alaska. Because today my girlfriend Jo woke up to find this guy knockin' on her window:

If you know me at all, you know what's going through my mind: I'd be out there with some snacks trying to figure out a way to climb on. Only, something tells me Rob won't give me a boost up this time. (Hey, if a moose can be trained to a harness, its not much of a stretch to believe it can be ridden, too!)

Can't you just see the look on Rob's face if I managed to get on that moose...

AUTHORS NOTE: The first thing Rob said when he read this was, "Where are your clothes? You look like Lady Godiva!"

How could I have forgotten a detail like that?! It's like one of those bad dreams where you go to work without your pants. Only, this wasn't a dream it was posted on the Internet for all to see! *blush* I hope the above picture doesn't go viral and ruin my chances of becoming President one day.

It's A Miracle!

2012-02-10T02:28:00.000-08:00

Can you imagine what the world would be like if we could all provide our own miracles?

Whip up an instant miracle:
simply combine with prayer and stir!

Not into cooking?
Then grow your own Miracle! Just add water.

Sounds great at first, but if you think it through you'll realize it would be complete chaos.

"Every day would be Saturday!" decrees one. "No, Sunday!" demands another. "No, Wednesday! I have Wednesday off so every day would be Wednesday!" cries yet another.

Farmers would always have rain for their crops. No, there's too much flooding along the Mississippi, so it would never rain!

There would be no more death! No more disease! No more mother-in-laws! (Ya know someone is bound to whip that one up.)

No pain, no suffering...

... no Spiritual growth.

In our desire to have instant-prayer-gratification, not only would we create total pandemonium across the face of the earth, we'd short-change ourselves of even greater miracles, because we can't see the entire picture in time.

Only God can.

God sees the beginning, the middle, and the end - of everything.

He often says "No" to a prayer for one miracle, because he knows a wealth of miracles will follow.

When we praise God for his love and wisdom, especially when he tells us "No" and we don't understand why, we draw closer to Him.

I may not be happy when God says "No" to my request for a miracle, but I trust Him to have a plan. And you can bet the miracles he's going to pour on me are greater than anything I could have whipped up or grown on my own.

What about you?

Headlines!

2012-02-09T08:46:00.000-08:00

I'm *supposed* to be studying for a big test that is only two hours away, but as always I seem to be doing everything except what I should be doing. For instance, I've already found myself mysteriously logged on to Facebook and commenting away. (I swear there is some kind of subliminal mind control thingie radiating out of that website, commanding my subconscious, "logggg iinnnn.")

When I came to my senses and realized what I was doing, I promptly logged out to hit the books. Right after checking my e-mail, of course. But Rob sent me something so funny it made me laugh out loud, right here in the campus library. And, much like riding the dog, laughing "is FROWNED UPON in this establishment!"

My procrastination has taken me from Facebook, to E-mail to Blogging, but this is absolutely the last stop. So while you're enjoying the following laughs, I'll be slaving away over the books. For reals. Right after I post this to its Facebook FanPage...

PS - I have no way to validate the authenticity of these "headlines" but I can attest to the fact that - true or not - they're stinkin' funny! Additionally, I have no idea who to credit for the humorous commentary, since this came across my desk in a generic mass-e-mail. Thanks to the clever wit, whomever you are!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Man Kills Self Before Shooting Wife and Daughter

This one I caught in the SGV Tribune the other day and called the Editorial Room and asked who wrote this. It took two or three readings before the editor realized that what he was reading was impossible! They put in a correction the next day.

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Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash, Expert Says

No crap, really? Ya think?

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Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers

Now that's taking things a bit far!

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Panda Mating Fails; Veterinarian Takes Over

What a guy!

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Miners Refuse to Work after Death

No-good-for-nothing' lazy so-and-so's!

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Juvenile Court to Try Shooting Defendant

See if that works any better than a fair trial!

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War Dims Hope for Peace

I can see where it might have that effect!

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If Strike Isn't Settled Quickly, It May Last Awhile

Ya think?!

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Cold Wave Linked to Temperatures

Who would have thought!

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Enfield ( London ) Couple Slain; Police Suspect Homicide

They may be on to something!

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Red Tape Holds Up New Bridges

You mean there's something stronger than duct tape?

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Man Struck By Lightning: Faces Battery Charge

He probably IS the battery charge!

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New Study of Obesity Looks for Larger Test Group

Weren't they fat enough?!

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Astronaut Takes Blame for Gas in Spacecraft

That's what he gets for eating those beans!

---------------- ---------------------------------

Kids Make Nutritious Snacks

Do they taste like chicken?

---------------- ---------------------------------

Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half

Chainsaw Massacre all over again!

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Hospitals are Sued by 7 Foot Doctors

Boy, are they tall!

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And the winner is....

Typhoon Rips Through Cemetery; Hundreds Dead

Did I read that right?

Generos City

2012-02-08T17:48:00.000-08:00

This is my friend Kevin, with his wife, Kami.

I've never met Kami, but she looks nice!
And she's bound to be reading this,
so
*waving*
Hi, Kami!

Kevin and I were good buds in High School. In fact, we had our own club: the Dead Puppies Club. Membership: 2.

(Before you get all huffy and quit reading, relax. We didn't kill puppies...they wouldn't be much fun. That was just the name of a silly song featured each week on the Dr. Demento radio show.)

Anyway, about ten years ago, I heard a rumor that Kevin was dead. Expired.
No longer of this earth.
It made me sad.

Miraculously, about a year ago, I found him on Facebook!

And that is the story of how Kevin Wilson of Salt Lake City, Utah came to win the 15K Chocolate Give Away!

(He even has a severe case of clicky-finger-itis to show for it.)

Being the great guy he is, Kevin waived his rights to the prize; so in lieu of sending him a big ol' box of chocolate love, I'm donating $50.00 to his favorite charity, Ronald McDonald House...

That's a win for everyone!

Feel like taking your own trip to Generos City?
CLICK HERE to make a donation
to the Ronald McDonald House!

It's That Time Again!

2012-02-06T23:20:00.000-08:00

One lucky reader will soon be

Authentically Me's

FIFTEEN THOUSANDTH viewer.

And you know what that means - CHOCOLATE GIVE AWAY!

So check the Page View number on the right side of the blog page.

You might have to scroll up or down a bit. Yeah, over there.

If it reads "15,000" YOU are the lucky winner! Yea!

(throwing confetti, clacking noise makers)

Leave your contact info in a comment below (I moderate comments so it will be completely confidential) or contact me personally.

Reading really is sweet!

If no one claims the 15,000th viewer reward, one will be chosen at ramdom from the comments below so leave some love, people!

Me and My Big Mouth

2012-02-04T15:49:00.000-08:00

NOTE TO SELF:

Will I never learn?!

cyclotrimewhat?

2012-02-03T10:03:00.000-08:00

I was doing some light reading last night and came across a twenty-nine letter word.

Twenty-nine? Seriously? What word needs that many letters? I can go to the store and back with less.

The author obviously felt cyclotrimethylenetrinitramine was the go-to word of the day. Just in case it wasn't tongue twisting enough he also threw in "diethylhexyl plasticizer".

I wasn't reading a futuristic/science fiction fantasy, either, but with words like cyclo-tri-whatever and diet-hexer-lexer I wouldn't have been surprised to turn the page and see a picture of the USS Enterprise firing a photon torpedo.

The USS Enterprise firing a photon torpedo

Anyway, I was totally out of the plot zone by then, (nothing kills the mood like an unpronounceable honkin' long twenty nine letter enigma) so I googled the words in question.

Turns out "cyclotrimethylenetrinitramine" is a chemical explosive; "diethylhexyl" has nothing to do with hexing diets but everything to do with deformity in lab rat fetuses; and "plasticizers" are not Hollywood reconstructive surgeons but rather chemicals that make things more liquidy and stretchy.

You've got to be kidding me.

Why the heck didn't the author just say "a bomb"? Sheesh, if he was looking for an adjective he could have called it "a flexible bomb" or if he wanted to really paint a picture he could have used a "silly putty bomb".

Where the heck did he get those other words anyway? They certainly don't show up in any of my thesauruses.

Perhaps he had a bet going with another author friend, whomever uses the longest word wins; loser has to buy a hundred copies of the other's book.

Whatever his reasoning, I think using twenty-nine letter words is a bunch of floccinaucinihilipilification.

Anchors Away!

2012-02-02T11:04:00.000-08:00

Unbelievable news, dear reader!

Our bearded, long-locked, couch-surfing son

ENLISTED IN THE NAVY YESTERDAY!

I don't have a picture yet, since I was unable to be there for the swear-in ceremony, so I did my best to represent it above. :)

His career choice is officially titled "Damage Control" which makes me think of a political advisor, but in actuality is a fire-fighter!

My son, a fireman!

Can you feel my heart swelling with pride?

We are proud beyond belief!

And, curious, too: What does he look like behind all that hair?

We will soon find out, he "ships off" to boot camp in March!

Congratulations, Aaron!! We love you, son.

Fly By

2012-02-01T15:37:00.000-08:00

Living Room With a View

Living near the Long Beach airport means

I never know who's going to fly in for a visit.

Take this guy, for instance, who decided to drop in!

Since he was so tired from his trip, it was easy to pick him up.

Yes, my husband knows I pick up strange lunch dates.

Speaking of husband...

{hollering to Rob} Honey, can I keep him?!

The Oldest Profession... Writing, Of Course

2012-01-30T11:09:00.000-08:00

This past weekend I launched the "Big Blog Bash," blanketing Facebook and email friends and family with requests to FOLLOW, READ and SHARE my blog.

Indeed, sending out more than five hundred requests centered on ME!!! made me feel a bit like (whispering in shame) a woman of ill repute. You know, a...

Main Entry: prostitute [pros-ti-toot, -tyoot]

Part of Speech: noun

Definition: person who sells own abilities, talent, or name

for inferior purpose

But having read the definition of such a woman, it's obvious that she is not me.

WOO HOO!!

I've never been so happy to see three little words before: "For inferior purpose!"

They mean that I am not a bimbo, or any other synonym referring to a woman of the night. Because my purposes are not inferior. (Selfish, yes. Inferior, no.) In order to attain a writing agent, Authentically Me needs to consistently have at least three thousand hits a day. Right now we're at about one hundred a day.

Which means I can continue to solicit strangers to FOLLOW, READ and SHARE my blog, all in good conscience.

So, cutie-pies, y'all come visit me, and bring your friends.

1, 2, 1-2-3-4

2012-01-29T14:31:00.000-08:00

Rob's sister Donna put together this wonderful video as reminder of our time together in Japan, summer of 2009! I'm the shrimp in the middle (clown shrimp that is!), Donna is the one with mermaid hair, Heather is the youngster and Rob is Tha Man. If you have half as much fun watching this as we did making it, you'll be having a good time indeed. :) Enjoy!

Rocket Science

2012-01-28T01:00:00.000-08:00

On my plane flight to Hawaii earlier this month, I sat next to a dad, traveling with his toddler, who had no earthly idea how to strap the kid into the airplane-safety-harness his wife and packed for the occasion. Watching him struggle with the straps and buckles cracked me up, especially when the outcome was a palstic lump which cranked the kids head forward at a 45 degree angle.

Totally reminded me of this post from our Florida days, originally titled "Thank God For Teenagers."

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OK, so, it's been a long, long time since I've had to get little ones out the door... this morning I was watching a friends little darlings (ages 3 and 5), and had to get ready for work while they were at my house. First I forgot about "monkey see monkey do" (one kid jumps on the bed, two kids jump on the bed, one kid yells to hear his voice, two kids yell to hear their voices)… then I forgot about ALL THE QUESTIONS repeated at warp speed over and over (wadder ya doing can I try that can I feed the dog too) …then I forgot about locking the bathroom door- helloooo I'm trying to take care of business in here … then I forgot about putting the dog treats away (hey kid ya want some milk with those cookies?) … OH MY GOSH forget looking gorgeous today I just want to get out of the house…

So we go out to the car…

I'm shoving all the library books (and old McDonald's bags and empty Starbucks cups) off my back seat into the floor, trying to keep the kids from getting run over (I was parked in the street), it's like 900 degrees outside already so I'm starting to sweat – which is no big deal, really, since I didn't get much makeup on between the mad dashes to get the kids off the computers and out of the dog treats – so I'm pouring sweat, and I try to get the car seat in my car and EGADS where do all those buckles go?

I struggle to pull the shoulder strap across the whole contraption, kid and all, but can't find the buckle that's wedged down under the car seat. (I mean, who sits back there to use it?!?!) By now I've crawled into the back seat, am half laying across the kid, he's yelling and hitting and kicking my right boob, which just happens to be smothering him (easy, kid, I only have two of those) – all the while the 5 year old is lecturing me with, "You're not supposed to do it that way" "That is supposed to be strapped on" "You forgot to close a buckle."

FINALLY I get the seat belt strapped over the car seat, nearly removing the kids nose in the process. (Noses are soooo over-rated.) I feel tremendous success in spite of my limp hair, sweaty face and wet shirt (which is now liberally smeared with drool and dog treat - guess where). I completely ignore the little voice from the back seat complaining, "My mom doesn't do it like that" and crank up the radio, giving thanks for my teenagers!

Drop Shot

2012-01-27T10:57:00.000-08:00

I feel like a spectator in the tennis match of my morning.

"Good Things" (GT) stand on one side of the court,

opposed by "Bad Things" (BT) on the other.

GT opens the match with a powerful serve:

Due to an appointment, I got to sleep in. Yay!

BT returns the ball with a snap:

After missing class for said appointment,

the Dr. called to reschedule. BOO!

GT easily volleys back:

The appointment was for a Root Canal,

which I've been dreading, so... YAY!

BT slams it down the line:

New Appt isn't until Tuesday

which means five more days of pain

and another day of classes missed: BOO! HISS!

GT scrambles.. and... connects

with a little flip right over the top of the net:

The Dr. called in prescriptions for antibiotics

and pain killers. YAY!!

BT is running, stretching... too late.

Game, set, match: Good Things!

Treasure Moon

2012-01-26T21:57:00.000-08:00

When my kids were little, they had a unique grasp

of the English language.

Like most children, upon hearing a new word

they repeated what they thought they heard.

Thus we kept our dirty clothes in the "hamster,"

made our bed with "sheeps,"

and swam in our "baby soups."

My favorite by far, however,

was the "Treasure Cat"

from Alice in Wonderland:

The Cheshire Cat

This funny feline has the power of invisibility,

and his favorite trick is disappearing,

leaving only a mischievous grin behind.

The infamous "Cheshire Cat" smile.

I'm sure I'm not the first person

to associate a crescent moon

with the Cheshire Cat:

In fact, even my kids noticed the similarity.

And like the "Treasure Cat" it resembles,

this lunar landmark has forevermore been to us

the Treasure Moon.

Super-Dooper!

2012-01-24T01:00:00.000-08:00

This past Sunday, two of the NFL's powerhouse teams

the San Francisco 49ers

and the New York Giants

slugged it out over the NFC Division title.

Winner goes on to play the New England Patriots

in Superbowl XLVI.
(That's 46 for all you non-Roman-numeral-reading bubbas out there.)

Guess who I was rooting for?

Above is the "before" picture my hubby snapped

right before kickoff. I boldly posted it on Facebook

proclaiming to post a companion picture

following OUR WIN.

It was an exciting game!

The warriors clashed like Titans on the field -

ruthlessly slamming their bodies into one another,

crashing and grunting in true He-Man style.

They were so evenly matched,

after three hours of brutal play,

the score was tied 17 -17.

In a colossal kick

whose effect will be felt

through the decades,

one team scored a field goal.

Here is a picture of that field goal in action:

And the resulting Big Blue Celebration.

Man I sure love football!

Who's your pick to win this year's Superbowl?

Sound off below...

Lip Service

2012-01-23T00:07:00.000-08:00

The "negative" reads like an annoying game-show buzzer.

On meeting the friend-of-a-friend once, I overheard her say, "Gurl, she ain't got no lips!"

I wanted to pout and say, "I have lips!"
But the truth is they, like Hanes panty lines, are barely there.

Though that comment was made more than twenty years ago,
its had tremendous staying power.

Now, I often wonder what I would look like with lips...

I'm sexy and I know it! (Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle!)

On second thought, I'll stick with the ones I have.

"Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." John 8:7

2012-01-22T00:06:00.000-08:00

The abortion debate is raging hot and heavy through our country.

Radical "Pro-Choicers" and "Pro-Lifers" viciously attack one another,
with some twisted ideology that hate and violence
is the way to win converts to their point of view.

I've never found anyone neutral on the topic.

Everyone seems to have a stand one way or another,
and sadly, many people seem to view this as the unforgivable sin.
I even had a Christian friend tell me flatly,
"I could never be friends with someone who had an abortion."

Ouch.

Thankfully, I understand that all people are human,
and subject to prejudices. My stand is and always will be
to look to Jesus for an example for behavior, and not to people.

Jesus sought out the hurting among humanity, and showed them love.

At the center of the Pro-Choice/Pro-Life battle are
tens of thousands of woman (and men) who have,
for a variety of reasons, decided to have an abortion.

I read an article recently about a woman who vehemently
defended her choice, saying it was the best decision of her life.
She's never regretted it, never looked back,
it's not even a blip on her radar.
I'm sure there are many women who feel the same way.

I know for a fact, however, that there are women who made that choice,
and at some point in their life are overwhelmed with sadness and regret.

I know, because I am one of them.

And I made the choice not once, but twice.

It took me years to come to terms with my actions, and to quit hiding in shame

because I thought I was the only female in church to have made that decision.

I forgave myself because I know God forgives me.

I found peace, comfort, and joy.

So today's post is for all the women, girls, boys and men
who believe that their decision to terminate a pregnancy
makes them somehow unfit for Christian society.

Having an abortion is not unforgivable.

You are not alone.

You are not evil.

We who made that choice, whether it was once, twice, or a dozen times,

do not need hate and condemnation.

We need love and friendship.

Thank God Jesus never turns anyone away.

“Casting all your care upon Him, God cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7

"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." Psalm 147:3

“No matter how deep the stain of your sins, I can remove it.

I can make you as clean as freshly fallen snow.

Even if you are stained as red as crimson,

I can make you as white as wool.’' Isaiah 1:18

Super Pooper

2012-01-21T21:52:00.000-08:00

Honey, can I keep him?

Our apartment complex has a ban on dogs, so I knew when we moved in that my fostering days would be put on hold. I just didn't realize how hard that would be on me. The past six months have been the longest stretch I've done in years without caring for some kind of pet. I miss my critters!

Last night we visited a friend who was having a birthday party.

The hostess-house had a hampster.

I got an idea.

(I'm sure you know where this is going.)

Rob didn't even let me get the words out before saying, "We don't need a hamster!"

I tried to convince him that it was the perfect pet.

I even showed him how we could contribute to the environment

while cutting down on care-and-maintenence fees!

Who needs a plastic habitrail when you can go green?

Unfortunately just as I making headway with the cuteness factor,

Mr. Fuzzy decided to... erm... have his evening constitutional.

Only, I think he must have been saving this one up for some time.

He dropped a couple of pellets on my hand,

and as I lifted him up to clear them away

he dropped a couple more on my shirt.

And then more on the floor as I stood up.

And then more as I walked across the floor.

The turds just kept comin.

If he was a slot machine, we're talking jackpot.

He pooped out so many pellets on my trip across the room that

Rob joked, "He's like a Pez Dispenser!"

(Personally I thought they looked more like chocolate sprinkles.)

I knew then that it wasn't the time to pursue my case

for a hamster being the perfect pet.

Talk about a party pooper.

Well excuuuuse me, but when a guy's gotta go, a guy's gotta go!

There Can Be Only One!

2012-01-19T19:29:00.000-08:00

Have any of you ever seen a bulging closet? I’m talking one so crammed full of junk you think, "that baby’s gonna blow!" Well, I have a closet like that and all the stuff in it represents forty six years of my life. Together it all tells the story of who I am.

However, my speech class was given an assignment in to bring in one item that represents our past, present, and future. Choosing only one item was hard enough, but the task I cringed from was entering the closet.

I didn’t want to open the door (remember what happened last time?) but I had to. Taking the virtual tiger by the tail, I squinched my eyes shut and pulled hard. It wasn’t pretty. Only, this time it wasn’t Rob buried under the avalanche of stuff. Flattened on my back, I looked around for inspiration. Suddenly, it hit me. Really. I mean, something hit me on the head.*

Image courtesy http://lioninthesunps.com

It was a dictionary! Since it contains descriptions of all the items in the closet, a dictionary is the perfect item to represent my past, present and future. I tucked it into my backpack and headed out to school.

Browsing through the pages, I chose three words to share with my class. Warrior, which represents my past, Student, which represents my present, and Graduate, which represents my future.

US Marines are warriors, and I joined the Marines a loooong time ago. During those years, I faced a variety of physical, mental, and spiritual challenges. All of them shaped me into the woman I am today...

…A Student. I don’t need to tell you the definition of that. But as a student I face a whole different set of challenges. Vanguard is my fourth university, it's taken me twenty eight years to get here, and along the way I’ve switched majors at least five times. It's been a long road, but only three more semesters until graduation, which will take me to my future as…

.. A Graduate. Anybody besides me looking forward to graduation? Once I’m a graduate, though, I hope to use my English degree to become an author. I want to write children’s stories, Bible studies, and Christian Fiction. I may get into public speaking as an author, but that depends on how well I do in speech class. :)

Ultimately though, life is unscripted. We never know where time will take us. I started as a warrior, I’m now a student . I hope to be a graduate, but no one really knows what the future holds.

Ummm, except for one thing. I'm positive about this. Since I haven't cleaned up after the closet eruption, Rob is gonna kill me when he sees the bedroom!

*Some parts of the introduction to this piece may be subject to the conscience disclaimer.

Conscience Disclaimer

2012-01-18T19:36:00.000-08:00

Pinocchio often exercised his artistic licence.

"Artistic licence" is a literary term used to express

"the distortion of facts."

Instances of this are very rare on Authentically Me.

However, on occasion the author may deem it necessary to

~~create a whopper~~

exercise her artistic license.

So as not to gain the reputation of being

a big fat fabricator of falsehoods,
as of January 1, 2012

the author will always include a

Conscience Disclaimer

with any post containing artistic license.

For all posts predating 2012 readers must
~~activate their BS Meters~~
exercise their artistic discretion.

A Sight For Sore Eyes

2012-01-17T06:17:00.000-08:00

Garfield (aka Me) is the "Sore Eyes" not the "Sight"

I am *so* not a morning person.

My body does not ping! out of bed in the wee hours

all chipper and ready for the day.

("Wee hours" being anything before 10:00 am.)

No, no ping!ing for me.

I'm more the groggy, shuffle-around type,

my eyes all squinty and blinky. Which makes this:

bottle of maple-brown-sugary-goodness

a sweet sight indeed.

It's a Canadian Coffee Party in my cup!

A "Dent" In My Day

2012-01-16T21:16:00.000-08:00

Me, having a perfectly wonderful day,

moments before receiving an e-reminder

about a dental appointment.

Of course I remembered that I had

an appointment today,

I just didn't want to go

because I knew that I had...

a cavity.

Last check-up revealed
that one of my old fillings deteriorated,

opening the way for destructive decay.

Thanks to dental anxiety,
my stomach was queasy as I opened...

The Door of Doom.

I put my headphones on
and went to my happy place

so as not to hear
the horror-movie-theme-
"screeeeee" of the drill.

The dental assistant even took a picture
when I explained I was a blogger.

(Which I did before having my mouth
jacked open and stuffed with, erm, stuff.)

So here is Dr. Brady in action:

Only from my view he looked like this:

No wonder kids are afraid of the dentist!

Turns out my tooth
was worse than anticipated.

Not only is the filling decayed,

the cavity grew down into the root

causing nerve damage.

(Which explains the excruciating pain

I've had for more than a year.

The last dentist wrote it off

as "sensitivity" when I complained.)

Dr. Brady said the whole thing
was very cleverly disguised

by my filling, though,
and even he didn't know

the extent of the damage
'till he removed the old material.

In fact, it was so bad
that he just did a

temporary filling
made with anesthetic material,

because I need to see a specialist for

a root canal and a crown.

And I don't think he was talking tiara.

No tiara?

Slow Cooker

2012-01-15T15:29:00.000-08:00

My apologies for having not posted in awhile.

I've been working on the rough drafts

for articles covering abortion,

eating disorders, and

the mooch factor of unproductive housewives.

You know, light hearted, carefree stuff.

Due to the inflammatory nature of the subject matter,

I've been taking my time with these posts.

After all, I'm sure to offend *some* people,

but I really don't want to tank off my entire audience.

So stay tuned...

this coming week just might turn

into "Jerry Springer"

on Authentically Me.

As always, comments are welcome;

but kindly keep your chairs to yourself.

PS - Authentically Me! does not endorse any of the talk shows featured in the following video.

PSS - Ya might wanna turn your speakers down...

Good Morning Is An Oxymoron

2012-01-11T09:59:00.000-08:00

Yeesh.

Who's the idiot that signed me up

for an 8:00 am class?

Oh, wait.

That would be me.

Unfortunately it couldn't be avoided,

as some mandatory courses are only offered once.

With only three semesters left in my academic career,

I didn't really have a choice with this one.

I want to find the beast
who scheduled the class
for such an ungodly hour.
I want to find them
and hurt them.
Severely.

Only, that would entail actually opening my eyes.

So I guess they are safe.

For now.

School Daze

2012-01-10T10:03:00.000-08:00

I always need a vacation to recover from my vacation, ya know what I'm sayin'?

Got home from Hawaii last night about 10:30 pm, grabbed a handful of Zs, and now it's up and at 'em for school, which officially started yesterday.

*pouting*

I'm not ready for school to start. What I'm ready for is a nap!

And another one of those fruity drinks that I had yesterday before I left Oahu.

Plantation Tea: Iced tea, mango and pineapple juice.

"Now, Sit Right Back, and You'll Hear a Tale..."

2012-01-06T20:57:00.000-08:00

Last Post I established some goals for 2012.

Since I happen to be on vacation in the
Aloha State, today seemed like a good time
to tackle "Kayak in Hawaii."

Several years ago, Rob and I actually

sold one of our kayaks to friends who live here,

so I thought I would be tooling around the ocean

in a familiar vessel.

Because I'm not the only one on vacation, though,

that turned out not to be an option.

(Something not-quite-right about people living

in Hawaii going away for vacation!)

Enter Karen, a local friend-of-a-friend:

Karen graciously invited me

to join her outrigger crew

for a paddle out to Coconut Island,

AKA:

While the show itself was filmed in an LA studio, this island in Kaneohe Bay was used for the opening screen shots.

Technically I did not "Kayak in Hawaii"

but I think this more than fulfills

the spirit of the goal.

I've never been in an outrigger,

so I'm really diggin the fact that I got to

(1) try a new sport and

(2) visit an "iconic" locale.

However, I did not follow up

my excursion with

"Lay on the beach

in Hawaii after the Kayak ride,"

so - I'll just have to come back

again this year to accomplish that goal!

A-Z 2012

2012-01-03T17:33:00.000-08:00

I wrote my first A-Z goals list back in 2009 when Rob deployed. It was a great success, and I had a blast with each successful completion.

A similar attempt in 2010 can only be classified as an Epic Fail, since I tried to create my list using the Greek Alphabet. (A tribute to my return to college after a twenty year hiatus, but how the heck do you "Omicron" something?!)

2011 saw me still licking my wounds from the above disaster.

2012 finds me willing to try again, so here ya go, my list of things I'd like to do over the next twelve months, in alphabetical order, A-Z:

Actually drink water as opposed to surviving on Diet Cherry Dr. Pepper and White Chocolate Mochas.

Build a Professional Looking Blog.

Complete the scarf I started knitting two years ago. (At this point I just want to throw it away!)

Do NOT miss the registration deadline for the Tinker Bell ½ Marathon. (See "Q")

Experience the Grunion Run. (Doesn’t everyone want to have ten zillion squirming silver fish mating at their feet?)

Find Horses!

Get myself to Catalina.

Help out at Collette’s Children’s Home.

Increase my daily walk time. (So that, you know, when I make the registration deadline for the Tink I’ll be able to survive it.)

Just write the dang “Broken Bird” story already.

Kayak in Hawaii. (Considering I’m on vacation in Hawaii now, this shouldn’t be hard to do!)

Lay on the beach in Hawaii after the Kayak ride. :)

Memorize fifty Greek words. (Pretty sure this will happen naturally during my Old Testament and Theology classes.)

Notice the Miracles in life (and give God the credit!).

Overcome my fear of all the buttons on my professional camera.

Practice punctuality. (As opposed to my normal Hakuna Matata attitude of whenever.)

Quit procrastinating ya big dummy!

Resist the urge to stress out during finals. (Easier said than done. Activating Q and S, respectively, should help.)

Spend more time on the beach. (Crazy that we only live about a mile from it, but I hardly ever go to just hang out.)

Travel to international streets in LA (China Town, Korea Town, etc.).

Utilize my time better. This goes hand in hand with P, Q and D!

Volunteer at the Seal Beach animal shelter.

Watch for Whales! (Without wooshing up my cookies. Hate that I get sea sick.)

Xanthinate Xantusiidae (A stretch, but legitimate. Xanth is a prefix which means “yellow” therefore, to “xanthinate” something means to make it yellow. Xantusiidae is a type of night lizard. So. I just have to find a night lizard and paint it yellow! No problem.)

Yell my head off at Angles stadium when Pujols brings in the big wins!

Zackify vacation time. (i.e.: Show the kid a good ol’ California fun time!)

Channel Choices

2011-12-31T00:00:00.000-08:00

It's the last hour of 2011 here on America's West Coast, and I'm browsing through all my "draft" posts that I never got around to finishing, because I realized that one more post will bring my total for the the year to 100.

Umm, yes, that would be me, spending New Years Eve on the computer. They don't call me ~~completely pathetic~~ wild and crazy for nothing.

My New Years resolution is to actually post the bits I draft, as opposed to drafting five million and never getting around to posting them.

Like this one, for example, that I started back in June:

I'm sitting in an Huntington Beach Starbucks feeling like a human satellite dish because I'm "channeling" both Stephan Pastis and Donna Morici. The two have come together nicely for me today, but I can't decide if I'm on Channel Donna with Stephan Pastis subtitles or the other way around.You see, Stephan is forever blogging about his experiences from his local Starbucks, and I'm house sitting for Donna while she gallivants around New York. Unbeknownst to her, I'm also wearing her most fabulous Carlos Santana slides and if people walk by close to me they will catch a delicious whiff of her Parisian perfume!

I remember the day I wrote that, but have no idea where I was going with it. I know I was feeling tres chic, wearing Donna's shoes and perfume, living in her beach condo, hanging out at her coffee shop. I think I also had some idea of trying to draw my own version of "Pearls Before Swine" featuring me and Donna as guest characters, but I couldn't figure out what animal to create in our image.

And again, I have no idea where I'm going with that.

And no, I have NOT been hitting the egg nog.

I'm actually forcing myself to stay up for another hour, because Rob and I are picking Heather up from a party. Otherwise, I'd be tucked into bed snoring, having banged on my pots and pans and said an unenthusiastic "woo, woo" earlier - with the understanding that it was midnight already somewhere in the world.

And just like that! A light bulb has gone off in my head.

I know what animal to fashion myself as in the Pearls strip.

A Party Animal!

Canon Fire

2011-12-29T13:34:00.000-08:00

Big Smile, indeed!

Our lives - mine as a blogger, and yours as a reader -

are about to get a lot more interesting!

Mailman delivered the above boxes

which contained a belated Christmas present

for me from hubby. My very first...

Canon EOS 7D

Professional Grade Camera!!

Don't know why I'm sittin'

here flappin' my jaws -

I've got some pictures to take!

But here's a quick look

at what this baby can do

right out of the box

as a point-and-shoot:

Gingy 2011

2011-12-27T13:00:00.000-08:00

The tree is gone

and the presents put away,

but thanks to gingerbread and icing,

Heather and I

squeezed a little bit

of Christmas Magic

into our morning!

Wilton pre-baked gingerbread stars stack up to make great trees!

Wilton pre-assembled house makes decorating a breeze!

nom nom nom!

Dollar Tree

2011-12-23T20:18:00.000-08:00

Ya know, there are times when I second guess
our decision to sell/give away everything we own.
There was that time I was sitting on the floor
because we didn't have any chairs,
and I'm working on a post from the other day
when I desperately needed a socket set.

When I first put up this year's tree,
I was kinda wishing we hadn't given away
our large, lush green tree along with
twenty years worth of collected ornaments.

A skinny white tree with plastic baubles
just wasn't doing it for me.

White Christmas?

Especially when I had to get creative with the topper -
which looks exactly like what it is -
a birthday ribbon twined around
some plastic spray painted pine picks.

hot mess

After a while, though, it started to grow on me.

I sat down with a cup of hot cocoa,
turned on the Holiday tunes,
and caught a glimpse of the tree
out of the corner of my eye:

It has lights, sparkles in all the right places,

packs up into a neat little box,

and the whole kit 'n' caboodle

didn't cost more than a dinner out.

What's more, we can painlessly donate it

to the thrift store if we have to

pack up and move on a moment's notice,

which is why we got rid of our house

and all of our possessions in the first place.

So I've come to love this years

skinny white tree with plastic ornaments,

and think that Dr. Seuss

expressed what I'm feeling best:

"And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet
ice cold in the snow,

stood puzzling and puzzling,
how could it be so?

It came without ribbons.
It came without tags.

It came without packages, boxes or bags.

And he puzzled and puzzled
'till his puzzler was sore.

Then the Grinch thought of something
he hadn't before.

What if Christmas, he thought,
doesn't come from a store?

What if Christmas, perhaps,
means a little bit more?"

Family Fun

2011-12-22T19:45:00.000-08:00

For the first time in many years, this week

my siblings and I were all gathered in New Mexico

under one roof at the same time.

Everyone wanted a picture together,

but my anti-camera sister adamantly refused.

Eventually she grudgingly agreed to sit for a photo

under one condition - that absolutely no one

besides us sees the picture.

So I came up with the following solution:

Back Row L-R: Mel, Jan, Joy
Front Row L-R: Me, Jay

We rearranged and added the folks -

and somehow my brother got stuck in front by himself.

The picture got snapped

just as I yelled, "Someone act like they love Jay!"

Back Row: Me, Joy
Middle: Mel, Jan, Pops, Mimsy
Front: Jay

Didja kinda notice a pattern there with the names?

Jan.. Joy.. Jay..

Dad's name is Jess,

and Mel's middle name is June.

Where the *bleep*

did DASHA come from?!

I can only imagine that my mother,

Ervinna, enacted her name revenge on me.

My Favorite Math

2011-12-18T20:11:00.000-08:00

2 boots plus...

1 truck and 1 horse trailer equals...

4 hours of fun!

Santa's Team

2011-12-15T13:04:00.000-08:00

I don't know who to credit for the following heart-warming tale; almost everywhere on the Internet it is accompanied with the byline "Author Unknown." Mayor Brad Anderson of the City of Iona posted it on his community page, under his own name, so perhaps he really is the author. At any rate, please enjoy the following Christmas Magic! (Can't you just hear the magical wind chimes and see glittery shimmers in the air?)

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma.

I was just a kid.

I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"

My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted...."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.

For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for.

I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.

I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!

I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.

"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby."

The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it.

Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers.

Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."

I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.

Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.

Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were -- ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.

I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.

May you always have LOVE to share,

HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care...

And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!

Deck the Halls

2011-12-14T11:28:00.000-08:00

This sax player is so lucky.

He starts playing a little ditty

and suddenly its all

pah-tay and fa-la-la-la-la.

Nothing like this ever happens to me.

I sing in public all the time,

but instead of inspiring an entire

Broadway song-and-dance routine,

people just give me dirty looks.

The secret must be the instrument.

That's it!

Next time, I'll take my

old clarinet from high school

and start honkin' away.

I can't wait to see

what the crowd comes up with

for me!

Ker-Flush!

2011-12-13T16:39:00.000-08:00

I'm sure he had his reasons, but Rob's grandfather absolutely hated this song. Every time it came on, he'd run to the bathroom and flush the commode until the song was over! Yes, even as a mature, grown man he'd head to the bathroom at the first hint of the tell-tale notes.

This funny visual has been with my family for years, and always made the kids giggle.

Now, whenever it comes on, wherever they are, they text us with a "Ker-Flush!" and we know immediately what they are listening to. :)

I bet now, whenever you hear this song, you'll think "Ker-Flush" too!

Holiday Cheer Epiphany

2011-12-12T17:19:00.000-08:00

Ever wonder why people lose their minds at Christmas? You know, the madness in the parking lot as cars zip around stealing prime spots, soccer moms fighting over the last pair of Santa socks at Target - evidence everywhere that during the holiday season, patience is thin and tempers are short.

Today, I figured out why.

It was raining pretty hard - we're talking torrential downpour - and I was in the middle of running errands - so I went through McDonalds drive thru for lunch.

And while the crackling communicators at the drive thru can be maddening, that's not where I'm going with this. Heck, most people I know speak fluent "speakerese" by now anyway. They drive up, place their order, and drive happily with their sprackle smackin scrish whumpa and a diet coke. But I digress.

Since McDonalds is, well, McDonalds, and I'm not a *total* pig, I opted for a happy meal. I had 'em hold the onions and pickles and mustard on my kids size cheeseburger, and wadde ya know, they didn't. (Guess I scrished when I should have scrashed.) No biggie, just scrape it off while I'm driving, and ugh, smeared a big blog of mustardy onion bits on my pants. Still, no big deal, my sweat pants are soaking wet anyway from my last dash across a parking lot with no umbrella.

The burger is just the preliminary for the big bang, anyway: the fries. Handfuls of hot, wonderful, salty, greasy goodness. Downing my burger in three bites, and keeping both eyes on the road for safety, I blindly reach into the bag for my fries and come up with .. the toy.

Maneuver around a bit to stash it in the glove compartment for Zack and I'm back to digging in the bag for my fries. My hand feels something cold.

Huh? What's this? Apple slices? In my happy meal? What's happy about apple slices? If I wanted apple slices I'd go to a stinkin' apple orchard.

But that's okay, probably a new holiday bonus or something. Not like I have to eat 'em just because they're in the bag. I pitch 'em over my shoulder into the back floorboard with the rest of the trash.

Back to those fries. *Rummage, Rummage* Here they - HEY!!

I nearly slide into the car in front of me.

What. The. Heck?!?! Miniature french fries?!?!

This minuscule, itsy-bitsy, three-inch paper container has to be a joke!

It only holds twelve french fries!

I know, I counted them.

Suddenly the apple slices make sense. With dawning horror I realize McDonalds has "healthified" it's happy meal.

Which doesn't make me happy.

At. All.

Grrrrrr. (That's my un-happy growl.)

And I still have errands to run.

Those holiday shoppers better watch out. I've been Grinched out of my french fries and I ain't happy.

Enter Epiphany:

That's probably what happened to everyone else out there, too. They're having withdrawals! They just need a french fry fix.

So the next time you need to get out in the holiday madness, take a big bag of McDonalds french fries with you and just toss 'em around like you're feeding wild animals at the zoo.

If you're lucky, the soccer moms will start snappin' at the fries and you'll have a shot at those Santa socks!

Surprise Inside!

2011-12-11T12:27:00.000-08:00

Someone gets a bonus present on Christmas!

Shopping online ROCKS.

No parking lot nightmares, no screaming kids, no lines. Just point and click and wala! Packages delivered right to your door.

It might even be a fool-proof system, for anyone other than the three stooges. Unfortunately, Rob, Heather and I have all been shopping and shipping to the same address... each using Robs name!

To avoid any of us mistakenly opening something we shouldn't see till Christmas, I'm the designated present wrapper. When a brown box comes in the mail, I wrap it up with nary a peek inside (scouts honor!). Then I describe the size, shape, feel and approximate weight to Rob and Heather, one of who will know what it is and who it's for. It's worked great... until now.

None of us can remember ordering this light weight, squishy-like-a-t-shirt package. We each swear our stuff is already accounted for.

Guess we'll have to wait for Christmas to find out what's inside, and who the goofball is that didnt' keep track of their purchases! Oh, Lord, I hope it's not me.

I remember one year my mother couldn't remember where she stashed all my stocking stuff, so for months she was handing me surprises as she'd find them stuck in the back of drawers and in nooks and crannies in her closet!

Holy smoke, I told you this to smoothly segue into a question about your own Christmas Present Confusion stories...but realize that EGADS! It really just sets me up for a genetic predisposition to forget presents. Oh please oh please oh please let the above present be something Rob or Heather ordered because I have *adamantly* (and rather haughtily) assured them that *I* keep track of my presents.

Anti-Climactic

2011-12-09T23:53:00.000-08:00

Huh.

Yesterday was officially the last day of my school semester. Only three more to go.

After a month of unbelievable project deadlines, tons of junk food, and very little sleep - the semester is over. The last week of finals carried a crazy, stressful, insane amount of academic pressure.

Now that it's over, I thought I'd feel ... different somehow. But I don't.

I did go by the library and pick up a handful of brainless youth fantasy/fiction. I've really missed reading "for fun" but my semester schedule left no room for that kind of free time. I stayed up until four this morning reading The Hunger Games. It was great to snuggle up and read knowing I didn't "have" to go to sleep if I didn't want to, and it was a really good book!

But when I got up this morning, the first thing I did was head to the computer and make my time schedule for next semester. I ordered all my books last month when I registered, so I pulled them out and got a feel for what is coming up.

It was my first full day of Christmas vacation - and I spent it prepping for school!

What is wrong with me?!?!

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words...

2011-12-05T01:00:00.000-08:00

Scooby! Stop that!

I think someone's gonna be
on Santa's naughty list this year.

Ambrosial Aroma

2011-12-04T01:00:00.000-08:00

"Laila Eau de Parfum is “fresh, clean & alluring - everything a woman wants to be!”. An exhilarating blend of natural oils, Laila is an infusion of Norwegian mountain wildflowers with just a touch of fruit inflections – including watermelon. With no synthetic additives, it mixes with the skin’s own oils to remain fresh all day without turning or fading. Laila intoxicates the senses."

Have I mentioned lately that I have the BEST husband in the world? Not only does he leave me encouraging notes around the house, he also surprises me with "just because" presents that he knows I'll love! When we were in EPCOT Norway a few years ago, I caught a whiff of the above perfume and went crazy for it. Obviously I'm not the only one with good taste, because now it is available at Nordstrom, and *guess* who's husband surprised her with a bottle? So if you see me any time soon, and notice an extra fragrant air about me (a flowery fragrance -.- ) it's all thanks to Rob, the best husband in the world. P.S. I'll apologize in advance if my "Cloud of Norway" enters the room before I do... I'm still getting used to the fact that fancy stuff needs smaller doses!

Christmastime Magic

2011-12-03T00:35:00.000-08:00

Hey, I'm a Royal Magician...

I made a King Size Hershey bar disappear!

I think I'll have to practice that trick again.

Goose on the Loose

2011-12-02T15:27:00.000-08:00

Did you know there is a condition called Metrophobia? It's the fear of poetry. I wrote the above poem after conducting a social experiment recently. I sat on campus with a handful of friends, and we offered to write poems for passerby. We also offered watermelon and cherry blow-pops to anyone who stopped by the table to talk. Our table had a big sign that read, "Poetry for the People!" It may as well have said "Leper! Unclean!" because most people conspicuously avoided us.

I don't mean they walked on by as if preoccupied. They showed very physical signs of aversion, like turning their faces away and abruptly changing direction. You'd have thought we were asking for financial donations instead of handing out candy. "No, thanks" they'd mutter, as they whisked past. I was so interested in this unusual behavior, I did a ton of Internet research on it, and sure enough, Americans are a unique culture united in their fear of poetry. For a country that loves music like we do, and celebrates the wonderful life of Dr. Seuss, you'd think we'd handle the idea of poetry a little better.

What about you, reader? Do you think poetry is something lofty and profound, best left to the hallowed halls of academia? Or do you agree with me that poetry can be found just lyin' around? Sound off below!

Happy Holidays, Indeed!

2011-12-01T00:57:00.000-08:00

An "open me now" present

came in the mail today

from my

very thoughtful

and darling daughter:

Now ~this~ is how

I like to start

the Holiday Season!

Between the Chocolate Cream

Whoopie Pies

and the

Peppermint Mochas

my belly's gonna shake

like a bowlful of jelly!

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Thank you, Heather!

Pride, Prejudice... and Zombies?!

2011-11-29T20:29:00.000-08:00

What makes classic literature classic? Some have suggested it is timeless themes, ideas that transcend not just years and decades, but centuries. Classic novels contain a certain je ne sais quois which appeals to audiences of all times, ergo making them a classic. Because classic novels have such great appeal, there is a strong desire to adapt them into a variety of media, morphing them into new creations that share the same message as the original.

Sometimes the adaptation is merely converting a famous work of writing into a stage play, changing nothing except the mode in which the audience absorbs the ideas.

Other adaptations are radical, having only a vague idea in common with the original.

Great adaptations keep everything that is appealing from the original, giving just a tweak of appeal to modern audiences. So it is with Seth Grahame-Smith’s Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

Elizabeth and Jane open up a can of whup...

This creative retelling of the original classic brings Jane Austen into the 21st Century. Grahame-Smith chose to edit rather than re-write Austen’s best tale, claiming “the Classic Regency Romance - Now With Ultraviolent Zombie Mayhem.”

This is in no way a mere spoof of the Austen original. Rather, it is a brilliant weaving of a contemporary theme into the very words of Jane Austen herself.

Adaptations of classic literature, while distasteful to some, are not literary abominations. By weaving zombies and ninjas into the classic Austen story, Grahame-Smith has made Pride and Prejudice accessible, even desirable, to thousands who otherwise might not be exposed to (or never enjoyed) the classic original.

What do you think, dear reader? Does the adaptation ruin or enhance the original work? Is zombifying Pride and Prejudice an abomination or a stroke of genius?

The Refiners Touch

2011-11-26T11:05:00.000-08:00

A friend shared this beautiful story with me today, and I in turn want to share it with you. The author is "unknown" but I sure wish I could thank him/her personally. Remember this the next time you are in a difficult spot.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Refiners Touch

There was a group of women in a Bible study on the book of Malachi. As they were studying chapter three they came across verse three which says, "He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver." This verse puzzled the women and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God.

One of the women offered to find out about the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible study. That week the woman called up a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention anything about the reason for her interest in silver beyond her curiosity about the process of refining silver. As she watched the silversmith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that, in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest so as to burn away all the impurities.

The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot - then she thought again about the verse, that He sits as a refiner and purifier of silver. She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined. The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. For if the silver was left even a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed.

The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silversmith, "How do you know when the silver is fully refined?" He smiled at her and answered, "Oh, that's the easy part -- when I see my image reflected in it."

If today you are feeling the heat of the fire, remember that God has His eye on you and will keep His hand on you and watch over you until He sees His image in you.

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

You Know You're Old When...

2011-11-17T19:07:00.000-08:00

You have plans

with this amazing party person:

And Special Engagement advance tickets:

to attend *the* midnight movie premier of the season:

But choose instead:

to stay home and go to bed.

A Sweet Deal

2011-11-17T01:00:00.000-08:00

Sweet Rewards!

Let me start off by saying -
WOW.
Just wow.
Authentically Me has officially passed
the ten thousandth hit mark.
I'm speechless!
(Which might be a problem if I were an orator,
but doesn't affect my keyboard tapping finger tips!)
I want to say THANK YOU -
for reading,
for following,
for supporting me
as I chronicle the crazy ride that is my life.

And as promised a couple of weeks ago,
I sent some chocolaty love to the lucky
ten thousandth viewer,
Janis Last-Name-Withheld-For-Privacy-Reasons.

Come to think about it, that was a pretty risky promise for me to make since I've never been known for my post office visiting skills. And *someone* around here kept trying to eat the candy bars! Thankfully my dear reader took a picture of the goods, which proves I managed to save enough bars to fill the box AND faced my USPS avoidance issues.

Maybe I'll should send sweet love more often!

Poetry For The People

2011-11-16T06:20:00.000-08:00

In honor of my poetry project at school today, I'm revisiting one of my favorite Dasha Originals! The following poem was written after a spontaneous shopping spree which I thought my hubby was funding. Turns out someone else had asked me to hold on to some cash, and I'd completely forgotten about it. Oops!

Secret Stash

Searching my purse, I did espy
three crisp twenties tucked inside.

Me thinks my hubby is so kind
hiding it for me to find.

Run to the store with joyful glee
spend every penny just on me!

Walk in the door – daughter hollers:
Mom, where is my sixty dollars?!

"Better A Witty Fool Than A Foolish Wit." William Shakespeare

2011-11-15T19:47:00.000-08:00

*This* is April, my girlfriend and fellow English Major.

We collaborated on a Shakespeare presentation for one of our classes today.

April is a brilliant scholar and natural born teacher; her part of the presentation ROCKED.

My slides were great, but my oral part of the presentation was disjointed and lacked rhythm. I also forgot to mention the "big wazoo" revelation that was my main point!

I think God is teaching me a lesson in humility.

You see, a few years back I had a couple of speaking engagements that were spot on. They went so well, in fact, that I got cocky and started thinking I was all-that-and-a-slice-of-cheese. I forgot to give the glory to God for my relaxed poise and speechy greatness. So the next time I had a gig, instead of being smooth as silk I crashed and burned. And the next time, and the next. Since then, I've told God repeatedly "All right already! I get it! I stink! YOU are great, and it is only through You that I am able to speak at all. Please may I have that gift back?" After today, I realize His answer is still a resounding no.

The good news is, I have always thanked God for my ability to write; hopefully he will never take that away from me. So while my oral presentation may have come across as scatterbrained and ill prepared, at least the accompanying essay was not.

If you'd like to learn a bit about Shakespeare, read on!

Hey, I said Shakespeare, not Shakesbear!

The recording of births in sixteenth century England was a shaky business at best, therefore no one knows the exact date when William Shakespeare made his debut this world. It is speculated that he was born on the 23rd of April, 1564; coincidentally the same day he made his final exit fifty two years later. Historian Amanda Mabillard observes, “No doubt Shakespeare's true birthday will remain a mystery forever. But the assumption that the Bard was born on the same day of the month that he died lends an exciting esoteric highlight to…[his] life” (Mabillard). As if The Bard needed esoteric highlights! He lived during England’s Golden Age, when Europe awoke from the Dark Ages to bloom in the light of the Renaissance. “The height of the English Renaissance …saw the flowering of poetry, music and literature… It was an age of exploration and expansion” (Elizabethan). It was a time when free thinkers resurrected the ancient ideals of Greece and Rome, turning their thoughts from the divine to focus on humanity. More than any other man of his time, Shakespeare embodied the spirit of the Renaissance by embracing humanistic exploration in both his writing and his lifestyle choices.

When he was just eighteen, he married a woman eight years his senior; they had a daughter a scant six months later. By the time he was twenty-one, Shakespeare had fathered an additional set of twins. Family constraints proved too much for the young man, who abandoned his comfortable life and chose to live in “arguably the worst place…in history. …Overcrowded, rat-infested, sexually promiscuous London, with raw sewage flowing in the Thames” (Mabillard). This atmosphere was perfectly suited to his needs, as it is rumored he had many affairs which crossed both race and gender boundaries. Since behavior like this is hardly tolerated in modern times, one can only imagine how forward-thinking it was considered four hundred years ago. As one Poet Laureate noted, "[Shakespeare] was not of an age, but for all time” (Jonson).

This timelessness is made apparent in Shakespeare’s collection of Sonnets, which are “an incomparable series of poems which has no equal in world literature” (Ledger). The sonnets, each its own work of art, are themselves artistically ordered. “It is important to see that the sonnet [116] belongs in this place, sandwiched between three which discuss the philosophical question of how love deceives both eye and mind and judgment, and is then followed by four others which attempt to excuse the poet's own unfaithfulness and betrayal of the beloved. Set in such a context it does of course make it appear even more like a battered sea-mark which nevertheless rises above the waves of destruction” (Ledger). In essence, Sonnet #116 which depicts love as a lighthouse is itself a lighthouse within the greater collection of sonnets. This is an amazing testimony to the genius of Shakespeare’s literary talent.

Sonnet #116 has been described as “… a history of love which anyone might have known, a mortal and immortal love such as any two lovers in the tide of times might have experienced, or might even be experiencing now” (Ledger). This is true because Shakespeare brilliantly chose to express love interweaving metaphors and themes which stand the test of time: stars, lighthouses, and the personification of time itself.

Shakespeare creates a storm tossed theme by using nautical metaphors for love. Love “is the star to every wandering bark,” love “is an ever-fixed mark.” By adding the word “tempests” we understand that love is a lighthouse in a stormy sea. The theme of love is creatively linked to theme of time which becomes personified with the line “Love's not Time's fool.” This line introduces Father Time in “his brief hours and weeks” and “Within his bending sickle's compass come.”

In addition to metaphor and imagery, Shakespeare uses a wide range of literary devices to make this sonnet come alive. There is traditional rhyme with word parings like “minds/finds” “mark/bark” “shaken/taken” “cheeks/weeks” as well as slant rhyme “love/remove” “come/doom” and “proved/loved.” Repeating words in the same sentence cleverly highlights Shakespeare’s point “Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove.” In fact, the word love itself (directly or by pronoun) is used a repetitive nine times in this short poem.

Additionally, Shakespeare uses contrast to masterfully reflect the battles to be found in love (and life). Time with his “bending sickle” becomes a grim reaper for youthful “rosy lips and cheeks.” Love lasting “even to the edge of doom” makes short work of time’s “brief hours and weeks.” Every line in this sonnet attests to the fact that Love Will Prevail! This thought brings us to the strongest literary device of all – Biblical allusion to the greatest love poem ever written. 1 Corinthians 13 is commonly known as the love chapter, outlining the properties of what divine love is, and isn’t; what it does and doesn’t do; and ultimately proclaiming, “Love never fails.” Sonnet #116 perfectly mirrors the feel of this famous biblical passage, which brings us to one final contrast, perhaps the most amazingly worked of all.

Sonnet #116 “is a love poem written by a man to another man” (Ledger), a concept which defies the very bible it echoes. And this, the exploration of humanism in direct opposition to religion, done so masterfully in a poem which reflects his unconventional lifestyle, is what makes Shakespeare the quintessential Renaissance man.

Sonnet 116

“Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.”

Works Cited

“Elizabethan era.” Wikipedia. Ed. Dr.K. 2011‎. Wikimedia Foundation.14 Nov 2011
Jonson, Ben. “To the Memory of My Beloved, the Author, Mr. William Shakespeare (1618).” Wikiquote. Ed. Kalki. 2011. Wikimedia Foundation. 14 Nov 2011

Ledger, G.R. “Sonnet CXVI.” shakespeares-sonnets. 2011. Oxquarry Books Ltd. 14 Nov.2011
Mabillard, Amanda. “William Shakespeare of Stratford: Shakespeare's Birth.” Shakespeare Online. 20 Aug. 2000. 14 Nov 2011

Mabillard, Amanda. “Worst Diseases in Shakespeare's London.” Shakespeare Online. 2000.

14 Nov 2011

KLUNK!

2011-11-13T15:51:00.000-08:00

Don't expect any blog posts this week, dear readers.

Five of my six professors have chosen

to make this "due week"

for a boatload of projects, papers and proposals.

I'm comically overwhelmed.

There is only one way to express

this insanity that is this coming week:

To the tune of "Twelve Days of Christmas"

On the week before Thanksgiving Break,

my teachers ordered due

a six-page di-ver-sity pa-per.

On the week before Thanksgiving Break,

my teachers ordered due

a test in theology

and a six-page di-ver-sity pa-per.

Y'all get the idea.

I'll spare you the build up
and jump right to grand finale!

You know, twelve lords a leaping..

On the week before Thanksgiving Break,

my teachers ordered due...

Test in New Testament

Research proposal

Conference with a Teacher

Self reflection essay

drinks for the classroom

community service project

yet another test

ALLLL IN FIVE DAYYYYS

Shakespeare presentation

a poetic paper

test in theology

and a six-page di-ver-sity pa-per.

When It Rains It Pours

2011-11-10T09:49:00.000-08:00

Obviously not my day.

I think the cops in Long Beach are in cahoots

with the cops in Costa Mesa.

I can hear them now,

"Roger four Alpha eight, target vehicle today

is a white Hundai, license plate..."

Then, to add insult to injury:

The day just kept getting better and better.

Between the ticket fees and gas

it was a hundred and forty-two dollar day,

and I didn't even have a cup of coffee to show for it.

Rob suggested I get a bus pass.

I suggested he [CENSORED]!

Divine Decadence

2011-11-07T08:37:00.000-08:00

Finally, definitive theological proof:

THERE IS A GOD!

Hey, Hey, Hey!

2011-11-06T00:01:00.000-07:00

This is Fat Albert,
the fattest sciuridae*
in all of squirreldom.+

When he jumped on the porch today,

he landed
with such a THUD

I thought
it was a raccoon coming to call.

Look at those cheeks!

*wondering to myself*
...I can't imagine how he got so fat...

* I'd like to take this opportunity

to point out the fact

that sciuridae

is the scientific term

for squirrel.

This isn't the first time I've used it in a post,

but

in case you missed it in one of the others,

I just want you to know

that I know

this fascinating fact.

What?!

Google does too equal know.

+ Originally this sentence read the "fattest squirrel in all of sciuridaeom."
But it sounded too much like "scrotum" so I switched them around.
You see what effort I go to to ensure these posts are non offensive?
(heaving my second long suffering sigh of the week)
A bloggers work is never done.

Sooner Rather Than Later, Please!

2011-11-05T13:00:00.000-07:00

generic web photo compliments of the google

Rob and I started our morning off with breakfast at Schooner or Later, a gorgeous outdoor restaurant overlooking the Long Beach Yacht Club and Marina. Wish I would have taken a picture of my heavenly cinnamon roll french toast! Fortunately for my taste buds (but unfortunately for you) those tantalizing triangles of tastiness weren't on the plate long enough for a photo shoot.

Rats.

That means I'll have to go back again to get pictures.

*heaving a huge sigh of suffering*

The things I do for you readers.

FOR THE WIN!

2011-11-03T20:54:00.000-07:00

Did I happen to mention that I get to do one of my term papers on PRIDE AND PREJUDICE?!

In case you didn't know, P&P is only my favorite book on the entire planet. I've read it at least once a year for the last twenty years; the six-hour BBC miniseries has kept me company almost as long.

The smoulder.

The aching, longing, unrequited love:

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do.

My feelings will not be repressed.

You must allow me to tell you

how ardently I admire and love you.”

That wet shirt and tousled hair in the pond scene.

Sa-woon.

Now I get to completely immerse myself in all things Darcy and call it homework. Reading, watching, researching ...for hours and hours and hours....

SCORE!

I love school. :)

You Can Cut Cards, You Can Cut Corners, Or You Can Cut...

2011-10-31T19:18:00.000-07:00

Being an English Major I do a lot of reading.

(Although the book above is technically an audio CD

that I listened to today on my commute to school.)

(And it is not assigned reading, I just listened for fun.)

(Don't be laughing at my idea of fun.)

ANYWAY!

This may come as a surprise, but I don't always take things seriously.

I can't help it. I'll be reading (or in this case listening) along all serious like,

when suddenly a line loaded with multiple meaning jumps out at me.

Like today.

"Who Moved My Cheese" is a book filled with metaphor,

with "Cheese" representing all the things we as people value and strive to attain.

The author, deep into his metaphoric meaning,

tapped into my sophomoric sense of humor with the sage advice,

"Smell the cheese often."

Um, no, thank you!

LANDMARK!

2011-10-30T16:54:00.000-07:00

WOO HOO!

Dear readers, as of this posting, "Authentically Me" is a mere twenty-two views away from it's TEN THOUSANDth viewing!

(For the rest of this post, every time you read the word "TEN THOUSAND" you have to say it in a big booming announcers voice. You know the one lie, "Mattress Select is going out of business and EVERY THING MUST GOOOOO")

I am humbled and amazed that so many of you are reading and enjoying the outpourings of my heart, whether they be nonsensical or serious.

In honor of this momentous occasion, I'd like to gift the TEN THOUSANDTH VIEWER (announcers voice remember?) with a tasty treat! And by tasty, you know I mean something chocolaty and delicious!

So! Check it out for yourself - it's the number on the right side over there.

If you are the TEN THOUSANDth viewer, leave a comment on this post with your mailing address (don't worry, the comment wont be public only I will see your address) and I'll get your sweet gift in the mail promptly! Well, as promptly as I ever get anything in the mail, anyway.

Thanks, readers! In the vernacular of the day, "You are the bomb dot com!"

What Will You Be This Year?

2011-10-30T13:31:00.000-07:00

Micky throws a Halloween party at Disneyland.

Tomorrow is Halloween; a safe, spooky-themed holiday that Americans celebrate with increasing fervor. People of all ages dress up in costumes, throw parties, go candy hunting door-to-door, carouse through a fun-filled fright-night. As holidays go, it seems to gather more momentum every year, to the point that theme parks are now cashing in on the action.

Knotts Berry Farm transforms into Knotts Scary Farm for the month of October.

What this means is that more people than ever before are dressing up in costumes for Halloween, and the very nature of "the costume" is under the gun.

Our country has always been diverse in its population, but historically minorities have had to fight for recognition, equality and acceptance. It's been a long time coming, but as a people we are finally gaining sensitivity to culture issues that our diversity brings.

A student organization at Ohio University, Students Teaching Against Racism (STARS), launched a poster campaign recently to raise awareness of how offensive certain Halloween costumes can be. The poster campaign is effectively spreading through the Internet, prompting a message on the groups web site:

"We are so proud of all the support but it’s overwhelming... Thank you guys so much for the love! The purpose was to educate and create dialogue and it did. ... Again, thanks for the support and have a happy Halloween!"

I must admit, I needed to see this. I immediately got "it" - the message. It goes deeper than the costume itself, addressing the larger issue of minorities being made fun of, being the butt of jokes; not just on Halloween but every day of the year for hundreds of years.

If you're not trackin', think of it another way. Imagine a time when you personally felt vulnerable. Zits and braces in High School. Not being asked to the Prom. Not having the nerve to ask a date to prom because you stammer. Tripping in a crosswalk on a busy intersection. Spilling coffee on your CEO. Whatever.

Now hold on to that feeling, and imagine yourself walking in to a party where people - not your friends, the ones who laugh with you, but the people who laugh at you - you walk into a room and they are dressed up as YOU. They think its a hoot, "Look! I'm Johnny! Do you wa-wa-wa-wa-want to go to prom?" but you feel humiliated.

Get the picture?

So if you're celebrating Halloween this year, take a few minutes to think through your costume choice. What you choose to dress up as may mean a whole lot more to some people than you think.

Any questions about the posters can be sent to OHIOUSTARS@gmail.com

A Day in My Life

2011-10-29T01:00:00.000-07:00

Four things in a day that caught my eye.

10:00 am Was greeted in the parking lot by this little guy.

2:30 PM New Testament Peeps always happy to say, "Hi!"

5:30 PM Driving home the sunset evokes a peaceful sigh.

5:40 PM Ended the day without missing a fry!

er, The In-N-Our Girl as I drove by?

or With your burger would you like a pie?

oh, wait they don't have pies at In-N-Out that's

why I went with "fry" originally.

Hmmm...I've got it!

To serve fast food one can't be shy!

(Meredith had no problem with me taking her picture

even though she never saw me before.

I wonder if her mother knows she poses for strangers?)

Philosophical Art

2011-10-28T01:02:00.000-07:00

Mosaic reproduction of Van Gogh's painting, Starry Night

Fact of the Day: A mosaic is a picture created from the arrangement of bits of tile, glass, stone, etc. called tessera. I had to do one in Jr. High. That was before the invention of the Internet (heck, it was before the invention of the home computer) so we had to first draw a picture for inspiration, then fill it in using glue and chopped up bits of tissue paper. I drew a horse, but it's hard to "fill in" a stick figure. Obviously my talent does not lie in visual art, and I barely passed the class. You think I'm joking? For our "sculpting" segment, I cut a shallow hole in a bar of soap and called it a square canoe. But I digress.

Starry Night recreated from photographic tessera. Click here to enlarge.

Photo mosaics are fascinating. Tiny photographic tessera are arranged to create a larger image. Looking at it from a distance one only sees the overall effect, but close up one can discern the individual pictures.

Now imagine an ever-changing photo mosaic. The big picture is briefly exposed before the tessera are shuffled, re-arranged to reveal an entirely different picture.

Faces are ever-changing photo mosaics. Snapshots of our past create our current image. The face we show the world is different at a distance from that which is seen on closer inspection. But we don’t allow close inspection. The tessera are constantly in motion.

Because I have no control over my crazy brain, the image of a self-portrait photo mosaic recently popped into my mind. It was from a period in my life when I was severely depressed.

Seen from afar the big picture is a smiling face: white teeth gleaming, blue eyes sparkling, pink lips laughing. The individual pictures tell a different story. They echo sorrow, pain, tears, and regret.

We all have our party faces.

Thoughts to Ponder/Ponderous Thoughts

2011-10-27T19:15:00.000-07:00

Fetal movements in a murdered pregnant prairie dog invoke outrage.

Wriggling maggots in spoiled meat invoke disgust.

KILL THE MAGGOTS!

SAVE THE PRARIE DOG!

Aren’t they all God’s creatures?

Thirty million dollars to “Free Willy” (Aka Keiko who promptly died).

Sixteen thousand children die from hunger-related causes… every day.

That's one dead child. Every. Five. Seconds.

SAVE THE WALES!

IGNORE THE CHILDREN!

Where is our compassion?

Loggers need police protection from violent protestors.

"Logging of old-growth forests has been proven to be so wrong economically, scientifically, socially …”

53,310,843 abortions in America.

“A woman’s right to choose.”

SAVE TREES!

KILL BABIES!

Have we lost our minds?

Beauty from Ashes

2011-10-26T20:58:00.000-07:00

For the past several months I've been reading one Autobiography a week. I've been put to sleep by a fifteenth century mystic, mentally befuddled by a French philosopher, intrigued by a nineteenth century Pentecostal preacher, inspired by an African Pulitzer Prize winner, and this week moved to deep introspection by a contemporary author who defies description. Terry Tempest Williams explores the human condition from all angles. She doesn't research a topic, she throws herself into it body and soul, wringing every last ounce of self discovery from the experience. She explores layers of brokenness in our world, starting with the devastation of 9/11 and working through the horrific genocide of Rwanda. After months of hands-on work in the field Tempest Williams comes away with the realization that beauty that can be created from the broken pieces of life. Written in a mix of poetry and fragmented prose, this creative, insightful, often painful Autobiography is one you don't want to miss.

JIMMY, I CHOOse you!

2011-10-25T15:36:00.000-07:00

Last year I had to keep a blog En Espanol (in Spanish) for a class.

Since I am far from fluent, most of my posts were a crazy Spanglish mix.

I'm crossing this one over today for my Brother, Jay

(known as "Boo" to the family)

who has an uncanny interest in women's fashion.

Boo, this one's for you! :)

Este un zapato de designer Jimmy Choo.
(This is a shoe by designer Jimmy Choo.)

Me really gusto. *drooling* Los quiero.
(I really like them. *drooling* I want them.)

Unfortunately, el costar mucho dinero.
(they cost a lot of money.)

Treinta y siete mil Mexican Pesos to be exact.

(Thirty seven thousand)

Which could work to my advantage, I suppose.

Next to THIRTY SEVEN THOUSAND pesos,

three thousand dollars sounds like a paltry sum.

A mere pittance.

I'll be saving so much money, in fact,

that I should probably pick up
un par en todos colores!
(A pair in every color!)

Monk-y Business

2011-10-24T14:07:00.000-07:00

My World Civilizations Professor does what I call the "Warp 5 Data Dump," rattling off names, dates and facts in rapid fire succession. Because he also tests very hard, when he's lecturing I write as fast as possible in a frantic effort to catch every word. My classmates agree that most of the time we can't intelligently process what we are hearing/writing until we look our notes over later.

Today was no different. We are learning about the role of Monasteries in Medieval England, and I was studiously writing every word before I realized suddenly that he was in the middle of telling a joke!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A traveler got lost in the pouring rain and found himself outside of a monastery. A monk came out and invited the man inside to have dinner and to spend the night. The stranded man gladly accepted the monk's offer.

That evening the man had a wonderful dinner of fish and chips. You know when you are cold, wet and hungry everything tastes so good. So He decided to compliment the chef.

Entering the kitchen, the man asked the cook, "Are you the fish friar?"

"No," the chef replied, "I'm the chip monk."

Victory After Failure

2011-10-22T16:28:00.000-07:00

"The LORD thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing." Zephaniah 3:17

If I haven’t mentioned how much I enjoy my Women's Autobiography class, let me do so now. The books we read and the subsequent papers we write have helped me grow as a Christian, as an English Major, and as a woman. I look forward to discovering each author’s story, and am never at a loss afterward for subject writing material. In fact, many times I have been tempted to write multiple papers because so many ideas have come up it is hard to choose just one! Last week was no different.

Wangari Maathai’s story deeply resonated with me on many levels. A major theme in her writing is overcoming discrimination and failure. I can relate to both! As a traveler I have repeatedly faced race discrimination internationally and at home. Americans are not exactly beloved the world over, and white people take a share of knocks in America. I’ve been in stores in Japan whose clerks ignored me, and have been refused seating at an Asian-only Chinese restaurant in Canada. I once visited an all-black church that sat white visitors in a segregated section. Through the years I have made lovely friends with women of all colors, but being a military spouse opened my eyes to the fact that everyone doesn't necessarily want white women as friends.

I can honestly say that I handled the above situations with grace. My mother raised me to be a loving and accepting person, and being discriminated against because of my race or country of origin is surprising when it happens, but not insulting. I still take it in stride because I realize that those who discriminate have most likely been victims themselves. A hostile reaction on my part would only serve to keep the vicious cycle of hate going.

Unfortunately, I do not handle gender discrimination as gracefully. My father is of the generation that feels women do not need education, and belong in the home. This didn’t go over well with my mother, or me! Tired of constantly being told all the things I couldn’t do because I was a girl, I did the manliest thing I could think of when I graduated high school: I joined the US Marines Corps.

“I have never met anyone who purposely set out to be a failure.” J. Hampton Keathley, III

The Corps is currently female friendly compared to the years I was on active duty. In the 1980s men were violently opposed to “Lady Leathernecks,” and laws against gender discrimination had yet to be implemented. I consider myself a pioneer in the women’s rights movement for having joined the Marines. There is still a long way to go, but the military has made huge strides in gender equality in the twenty-eight years since my enlistment.

Helping to lay a foundation for women in the Marines may have been a success for female equality, but it was the catalyst for my developing a terrible disease. It is possible that I was doomed to alcoholism no matter what road I’d chosen in life; my family has a history of the disease, and I have plenty of emotional demons to drown. Discrimination in the Marines did not “turn me into” an alcoholic, but I acquired the habit of drinking while on active duty. I drank primarily because I was lonely, and because I wanted to fit in.

The military was not just tolerant of alcohol in the early 80s, drinking was heavily promoted. The small unit I was assigned to had a firmly established party mentality. Fighter Jet pilots on a rotating basis filled our Commanding Officers (CO) position. Every six months we were assigned a new CO. Since flying was their primary job, the CO’s position was seen as an administrative training exercise and none of them took it seriously. This was never clearer than during our annual physical fitness tests. Men were required to run three miles, women a mile and a half, which made the women’s stopping point the men’s turn around. I will never forget the sight of an ice chest full of beer at this turn-around point, surrounded by Marines grabbing a cold one and having a smoke before finishing their run! Being young and impressionable, I joined the crowd. Unfortunately, a genetic predisposition towards alcoholism was already at work in my body.

If I hadn’t started drinking I may have had a twenty-year career in the Marine Corps. I was eventually transferred to a more disciplined unit than the one described above, but by the time my first reenlistment option came around - reenlistment really wasn’t an option. Female Marines were oddities: many leaders just didn't know what to "do" with women. My Sergeant Major once placed chevrons in my hand for the next rank up, saying that the CO wanted me to have them for "inspiration." He said that the CO wanted to promote me, but felt he couldn't because I was girl, and it would look bad! Instead of fighting for equality, I let my anger get the better of me. Feeling like any effort was futile I threw in the towel and drank even more. At the end of my four years, during a “retention” interview in which my CO was supposed to convince me to reenlist – mine merely shook his head and said, “Vaughn, don’t do it.” Though I was awarded an Honorable discharge, I view my Marine years as a failure.

The greatest thing to come from this failure was meeting the man who would years later become my husband (Rob). Several factors came together at once to straighten my life out. After leaving the Marines, my drinking led to taking drugs. Rob was a career Marine and told me flat out that he could not condone a drug life. At the same time my brother was in a rehab center, and I would go to counseling and AA meetings to support him. Crashing my car while drunk (after disgracing myself at friends wedding reception) was the final eye opener.

“The only man who never makes a mistake is the man who never does anything.” Theodore Roosevelt

There is so much more to the story, but the bottom line is Rob is a Christian man, and I truly believe God put him in my path. I met him during my disastrous years drinking, and he (along with our children) is the greatest thing to come out of my failure as a Marine. I don't know where I would be now if I hadn't failed back then - but I do know it couldn't possibly be any better than where I am. Which goes to prove Wangaari Mathai's point: there really can be victory out of failure!

"My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." Psalm 73:26

Stevie-ism

2011-10-21T10:22:00.000-07:00

My neice has a "precocious" four year old son named Stevie who would give Red Cheif a run for his money!

Her facebook status updates keep me in stitches. Here's the latest:

"So as Stevie was throwing a fit...the whole running in place, hands flailing around and cry-talking... I tried a new parenting tactic by simply telling him that I can not hear him when he does that and he needed to calm down to talk to me... He stopped cold turkey, looked at me all serious... and then suggested I clean my ears out."

"Every Leaf Speaks Bliss to Me..."

2011-10-20T19:11:00.000-07:00

"Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree." ~ Emily Bronte

Whoever said Southern California doesn't have seasons?!

While it is true that the grass is green, the sun is shining and it is a toasty eighty degrees out, the trees in our yard still know how to do their autumnal duty.

“Failure is not a crime.” Wangari Maathai

2011-10-19T21:47:00.000-07:00

Read a beautiful book this week, Unbowed, written by Wangari Maathai, an outspoken envoronmental and women's rights activist from Kenya. Wangari set many "firsts" for women in not only Kenya but the whole of Africa. Besides being the first female in east and central Africa to obtain a doctoral degree, she was also the first woman professor at the University of Nairobi.

In addition, she founded the Green Belt Movement, "a nongovernmental organization that married the two causes at the center of her work: women’s equality and stewardship of the land in her native Kenya. Thanks to Wangari’s efforts, the Green Belt Movement has planted tens of millions of trees and was successfully initiated in neighboring countries, including Tanzania, Uganda, Malawi, Lesotho, Ethiopia, Zimbabwe and others."

Her efforts to effect change were not immediately accepted, in fact she had to fight for years against government corruption and public apathy. She refused to let anything stop her from doing what was right, including multiple arrests and a near fatal beating by police.Ultimately she was awarded the 2004 Nobel Peace Prize because her “unique forms of action have contributed to drawing attention to political oppression — nationally and internationally.”

This beautiful and amazing woman passed away last month, but she has inspired me! I don't know exactly what I've been inspired to do, but you can bet I'm going to do something to honor her memory. I may not win the Nobel peace prize, and my whatever-it-is action may be a total flop, but like her hummingbird illustration, I would rather fail trying to make a difference than to not try anything at all.

“I have never met anyone who purposely set out to be a failure.” J. Hampton Keathley, III

“The only man who never makes a mistake is the man who never does anything.” Theodore Roosevelt

"My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." Psalm 73:26

She who laughs last... at least gets to laugh

2011-10-18T10:02:00.000-07:00

Back by popular demand, my famous Leather Jacket post! (I can't even say that with a straight face... there is no popular demand... No one asked for me to reprint this post from last year...I'm just too stinkin' busy with school to come up with new material this week. Hopefully it's new to some of you!)

I was out shopping the other day and found the greatest black leather jacket. It wasn't new, which actually upped it's cool factor. It was perfectly broken in, as if it's owner loved it so much they wore it with everything. A smiling sales lady glided over to me. "Isn't that just the perfect little jacket?" she asked in a sweet southern accent, adding a bit conspiratorially "Why don't you try it on?"

She slipped it off the hanger and onto my waiting shoulders. It was buttery soft and warm as toast. Perfect indeed.

I sighed a blissful sigh. Since the jacket was used, I figured it would have a hefty discount. Reaching for the price tag I gasped out loud, "Three Thousand Dollars?!"

The wattage on the sales lady's smile dimmed considerably. "It is Italian" she stated, emphasizing the "is" to imply "What, are you stupid?"

"It may be Italian," says I, "but it's used Italian." Emphasis on "used" to imply she's the stupid one.

"Used?" She tinkled a merry laugh, aimed directly at me. "It's not used, dear, it's distressed." She added another twitter for humiliation.

"Distressed?" I laugh back. (My momma didn't raise no dummy.) "Lady, this jacket is in misery. It looks like someone ran it over then dragged it fifty miles down the interstate!" I laughed again as I shrugged off the offending jacket, implying that someone would have to be stupid to buy the beat-up thing.

She glared at me evilly, all traces of the genteel southern belle gone. Without another word, she turned her back and stomped away.

I stomped the other direction, muttering all the way out the door. Stupid jacket. Stupid Italian jacket. Stupid three-thousand dollars. I'll show her.

I drove to the local thrift store and headed straight to the jackets. I flipped furiously through the selection, sliding coats and hangers down the rack at record speed. All the while I muttered and grumbled, mimicking that annoying fake southern accent. "It *is* Italian" grrrrrr.

Suddenly, there it was. A black leather jacket. Not soft and buttery, exactly, but definitely distressed. It even smelled distressed. (I cringed a bit at the smell, but this was WAR.) Breathing through my mouth, I gingerly slipped the jacket on and waddeya know, it fit. Well, pretty much. I happily forked over four dollars. Three thousand dollars my butt!

I was going straight back to the mall, to sashay in front of that store in my new-to-me fashion forward distressed leather jacket. Needing an audience to share in my triumph, I picked up my girlfriend en-route. As soon as she got in the car, she wrinkled her nose and demanded, "What's that gosh-awful smell?"

"That, my dear, is the smell of VICTORY!" Mwh-ha-ha!

thanks to imasee.com for the laughing cat image

Pampered Pup

2011-10-16T22:56:00.000-07:00

Pup-sitting is one of my favorite things to do, especially when I'm watching my former K9 companion Puppy. We got to send tons of time together recently when her family was away for the weekend. Unfortunately, because they were away, she was "off her feed" and didn't want to eat her dinner. Bear in mind this is the pup I raised on eight-dollar-a-can speciality food, and who has her own order at Starbucks.

Her royal highness waiting for her grande half-caff no-whip white chocolate mocha

So I was on the verge of heading to the store for some spendy gourmet to tempt her palate when Rob said, "Here, I bet she'll eat this" and proceeded to toss a treat into the living room.

Outraged I sputtered, "Don't just throw it on the floor like she's a, a DOG!"

The eyebrow he raised would have done Spock proud.

Ain't no Co-inkydink

2011-10-13T23:02:00.000-07:00

scrip·ture/ˈskripCHər/

Noun. The sacred writings of Christianity

contained in the Bible.

“All Scripture is God-breathed

and is useful for teaching, rebuking,

correcting and training in righteousness,”

2 Tim 3:16

Thought y'all might like to read this week's writing assignment:

“Scripture” is one of my favorite subjects to discuss! If our assignment this week had been to write a Psalm, I could easily fill three pages with a self-made song of love for scripture. However, we were asked to share the importance of a specific scripture in our lives. I’m glad the assignment wasn’t to share a “favorite” verse, because that would be like declaring a favorite dessert – too many sweet choices to choose just one!

It’s easy to pluck out a meaningful piece of scripture, though, because to me they are all important. I could randomly point to any verse in the Bible and write about its significance in my life. Even wacky scripture that makes one scratch their head and go “hmmm” is significant in that it makes one dig deeper for meaning, or simply because it brings a smile to ones face. (I. E. Deut 23:1 “He that is wounded in the stones, or hath his privy member cut off, shall not enter into the congregation of the Lord.”) While scripture is never to be taken as a joke, sometimes it sure can make one laugh! ("wounded in the stones" gotta love that language!)

All jesting aside, though, Philippians 4:5b is a verse that I keep at hand because God used it to speak directly to me during the early days of my walk with Him. Being raised in a secular family, I was struggling with the enormity of the concept of “Faith.” I hated doubting what I was just learning as Truth, but I couldn’t help questioning if it was real or just really good myth. So like countless others before me, I verbally cried out “GOD! Are you REAL?!” I immediately did what I’d been told to do when wanting an answer from the Lord – I flipped my Bible open to a random page, and poked my finger down onto a verse without looking at it first. Even today, recounting the story, I get all goose-bumpy remembering the words that were underneath my finger: “The Lord is near.” (Ain't NO WAY that was a coincidence! There is a one-in-thirty-thousand chance that my finger would land on that specific verse.) I cannot begin to describe the wonder and amazement of that miraculous moment! It was as if God Himself were standing by my side, looking into my eyes saying, “My precious child, I am real and here I am, see?” From that moment on, I have read, studied, devoured, bathed in and luxuriated in the Word!

So, the answer to the question “Is Scripture important in our lives?” is a resounding, “Yes!” Scripture is our guidebook, our physical connection to God. Since we can’t text Him on the phone, or message Him on Facebook, we MUST read and study scripture to understand God.

One of my favorite ways to study scripture is word-emphasis: reading a verse multiple times with an emphasis on a different word each time. We generally tend to over look words themselves in scripture, focusing instead on the “idea” of the verse. We miss so much without even knowing it! The four words in Philippians 4:5b saturate the overall idea with meaning.

· “THE Lord is near.” THE Lord. Not “A” or “One” or “Multiple” lords… THE Lord!

· “The LORD is near.” The LORD. Not the “mailman” or the “dude” or the devil… the LORD!

· “The Lord IS near.” IS. Not “will be” or “once was” or “sometimes”… IS NOW!

· “The Lord is NEAR.” NEAR. Not “far away” or “next door” or “unreachable”…NEAR!

Because each individual word has an importance all it's own, they each contribute layer after layer of purpose to this “simple” four-word verse! And this is only ONE verse! There are over thirty thousand verses in the Bible. Mind boggling, isn’t it?

Puppy Love

2011-10-10T18:15:00.000-07:00

Me getting my Puppy fix

The best dog in the whole world used to live with us. Rob, Aaron, Heather and I adopted her as a two-year-old pup from the Oceanside animal shelter. She was a pathetic shaky thing, and we were walking past her cage when she whimpered and reached out a pitiful little paw towards us...

From that moment on "Puppy" was part of our family. I loved her somethin' fierce! We don't know what landed her in the pokey, but she was clearly traumatized by some event. Eating was a major ordeal. She was afraid of the food dish, so I spent hours in the floor with her, coaxing her to eat. The vet prescribed a special soft food, which Puppy would timidly lick off my finger one little bit at a time. (Rob joked that only *I* would have a dog that needed eight-dollar-a-can food!) She got stronger and healthier over the next few years, but she could never tolerate a cage. She'd just about bash herself senseless if put in one.

So when we got orders to Japan in 2008, Puppy had to find a new home. Enter Rob's sister Donna and her husband Nick.

Donna's son Josh was heading off to the Air Force Academy, so adopting Puppy eased their empty nest syndrome. They have an active life style, and Puppy fits right in. Nick especially spoils her rotten, but they both love her like crazy.

The best part is, they live here in SoCal, too. :)

After two and a half years away from "my" Puppy, I now live close enough to see her regularly, and dog-sit when ever Nick and Donna go out of town!

Which, coincidentally, they are doing this coming weekend.

Ya know how some people count down "sleeps" for really big events? (i.e. How many nights till their birthday or Christmas.)

Me?

I say: Four more sleeps till I get to snuggle Puppy!

My subconscious giveth...

2011-10-08T12:29:00.000-07:00

Had the most amazing dream last night! Set in the not too distant future, scientists were attempting to genetically engineer "perfect mates." They decided to test the culmination of their work by raising the subjects separately then introducing them after maturity.

Sure enough, when the pair met for the first time their intellectual, spiritual and emotional connection was staggering. They were indeed, perfect for each other.

Since it was my dream, I of course played the female lead, and thanks (and I do mean THANKS!) to my over active subconscious, Brad Pitt starred as my genetically engineered perfect other half.

Our first kiss was strictly G rated: chaste, innocent and sweet. (Think: Meet Joe Black.)

Since we were genetically engineered to be perfect together, our second kiss skyrocketed through all parental ratings. (Think heaving bosoms and Troy.)

Just as this dream was getting *really* interesting...

...we were suddenly careening around corners in a crazy sneaker-shaped shaped car.

My subconscious giveth, and it taketh away.

Cold Season

2011-10-06T22:36:00.000-07:00

It's cold and flu season here in SoCal.

I've already missed one day of school

thanks to a scratchy throat, itchy eyes

and a stuffed up nose.

And while I will admit hanging out at home all day

watching movies is really fun and relaxing,

it doesn't help my grades any.

So here's me, fighting off a flu bug.

(If my madd fencing skills don't scare him off,

my freakishly long neck is sure to do the trick!)

Crossing the Jordan

2011-09-29T08:50:00.000-07:00

In my "Women's Genre" class, our writing assignments mirror the theme of the week's reading. This week we read Corrie Ten Boom's autobiography The Hiding Place. If you aren't familliar with the story, Corrie and her family were sent to prison camps for hiding Jews during WWII. Her testimony of love and forgiveness is the most powerful I've ever read. I had to stretch myself emotionally and spiratually to write my assignment this week - it took me to a place I've been avoiding for years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Having grown up with a drug-addicted brother and an absentee father, I don’t have to look far to find an example of forgiveness. In fact, I was tempted to write about the relationships in my life that God has healed via repentance and forgiveness. It would be easy to write such a paper because the offending persons repented, and I love them so much it was a simple matter to forgive them. Unfortunately, God had another plan in mind. I was convicted not once, not twice, but three specific times this past week to write about a forgiveness I’ve been withholding due to pride: the offender refuses to acknowledge the offense.

The first conviction came in the form of my sister-in-law, Dianne, whose mother-in-law Eileen mistreated her for years. From the day she got married it seemed Dianne could do nothing right in Eileen’s eyes. The years came and went with much friction between the two women. I didn’t know until just last Friday that several years ago Dianne was praying and heard very specifically that she needed to love Eileen as God did regardless of how she was being treated. Dianne said it wasn’t easy, but eventually she was able to forgive her mother in law and learned to love her unselfishly. Even though they never developed a tender relationship, Dianne said it was better than it had been. Eileen died a few years ago, and I am so thankful for Dianne’s obedient heart and for the example her testimony sets. My relationship with my own mother-in-law is… strained to say the least. Hearing Dianne’s story convicted me to take responsibility for this broken relationship, the first step of which would be to admit my sin in withholding forgiveness. I admitted to Diane that I “should” forgive my mother-in-law, but at that time I just wasn’t ready. The hurts were too deep, and my hold on them was so strong! I didn’t intend to tell God “No” but that’s what it comes down to. He decided to give me another nudge.

This second conviction came from the pulpit at Church Saturday night. Pastor Bruce was talking about the Israelites needing to get to the Promised Land, but the tumultuous river Jordan was in their way:

“So when the people broke camp to cross the Jordan, the priests carrying the Ark of the Covenant went ahead of them. Now the Jordan is at flood stage all during harvest. Yet as soon as the priests who carried the ark reached the Jordan and their feet touched the water’s edge, the water from upstream stopped flowing. It piled up in a heap a great distance away, at a town called Adam in the vicinity of Zarethan, while the water flowing down to the Sea of the Arabah (that is, the Dead Sea) was completely cut off. So the people crossed over opposite Jericho. The priests who carried the ark of the covenant of the LORD stopped in the middle of the Jordan and stood on dry ground, while all Israel passed by until the whole nation had completed the crossing on dry ground.” Joshua 3:14 – 17

Pastor Bruce explained that like the Israelites, we all have “rivers” blocking our path to the “Promised Land.” He encouraged us to identify those rivers, and then trust God to get us across!

Loud and clear I heard the message – my stubbornness was a river keeping me from God’s blessings. I needed to cross that river and the only way was to ask Him to help me forgive my mother in law. Still I said, “Not yet.” (At this point I should have been thankful a giant whale didn’t appear from nowhere to swallow me whole!)

The third and final conviction came in class on Tuesday. I must admit, by that time I was mulling over the idea of writing about forgiving my mother in law, but dragging my feet. I didn’t want to write about my sin! (I wanted to write about “Good Dasha” the paragon of forgiveness.) However, the video clip of Corrie Ten Boom sealed the deal. I was very moved reading The Hiding Place, but seeing pictures of her – even if they were movie renditions – those pictures made her real to me. The fact that she could love and forgive her enemies in spite of what she went through – wow. I know Christ set the ultimate example for us when, brutally beaten and hanging on the cross he prays, “… Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34) It’s still hard for me to wrap my mind around, because He’s God; fully human, but fully God. I could never say Corrie’s example means more to me, but I relate to her more easily because she is not God.

So, at some point between class and the writing of this paper, I sat down and talked to God. My initial prayer “Lord, I need to forgive Yvonne…” was a cop-out. I long ago acknowledged the need to forgive, so this prayer was nothing new. Plus – I was still focusing on her treatment of me, as opposed to my treatment of her. Matthew 7:3-5a warns against that very thing: “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye…”

I am so thankful for God’s patience. He listened while I hemmed and hawed, and finally blurted out that I’d been nursing a nasty twenty-four year grudge, feeding it at every opportunity. I asked his forgiveness. Yvonne is God’s precious creation and my attitude towards her has helped to poison our relationship. Thanks to 1 John 1:9 ("If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.") I know God has forgiven me. As I laid my own hurts and pain at His feet, I asked Him to give me a love for my mother-in-law, regardless of its reciprocation.

I wish I could say the sun broke free from the clouds as the Heavenly Host exploded into song. But it didn’t. I do feel more peace about this relationship than I have in twenty-four years, though. And I know that God wants me to love my mother-in-law, so He will honor my prayer. Getting across this particular river may take some time, but with God holding the waters at bay, there is no doubt I will reach the other side.

Need to Proceed

2011-09-28T19:08:00.000-07:00

I'm taking a class with the illustrious head of Vanguard's English Department, Dr. Lee.

Dr. Lee's credentials include a Ph.D. in English (British and American Literature) from the University of California, Berkeley and an M.F.A. in Creative Writing from Brown University.

Recently she observed that the introductory section to one of my papers was, and I quote: "Hilariously brilliant."

I've been floating about ever since with a crazy-happy grin on my face.

Somewhat in a daze, I carry my paper around the house, repeating to no one in particular, "Hilariously brilliant!"

Now, you faithful readers have been telling me how funny I am for years, and it's certainly true that I often crack myself up.

But.

To have an accredited Doctor of English tell me I am funny is an unimaginable affirmation.

I told Rob that I need never write again!

To which he replied, "Just imagine if you wrote a book, and your reviews were like that. Instead of carrying your English paper everywhere you go, you could fill the bed with all the positive reviews and wallow in them."

If you need me, I'll be working on that book.

From the Hallowed Halls of Academia

2011-09-27T18:03:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the dude sitting next to me in class recently, I now know that the observation I made last year is a timeless truth which transcends state boundaries:

Personal Observation #744:

College girls smell really good.

College boys do not.

Baby Bears Chair Is Just Right

2011-09-26T22:41:00.000-07:00

I've been working on finding the middle ground between my extremist motto's of "Life is short eat dessert first" and "Carb-free is the way to be!"

I swing radically between months of being a total undisciplined piggy and exercising complete self control.

Like the chairs in the story of Goldilocks and the three bears, one motto is too hard, the other too soft.

Where, oh where, is baby bear's chair?

Sigh.

I sure don't know. I only hope I find it before diabetes and heart disease finds me. :(

Authentically Me, Dasha Dee!

Best Husband Award

The Whole Tooth and Nuthin' But The Tooth

Old Friends

Crowning Glory

Toro! Toro!

Third Time's a Charm

Moose on the Loose

It's A Miracle!

Headlines!

Generos City

It's That Time Again!

Me and My Big Mouth

cyclotrimewhat?

Anchors Away!

Fly By

The Oldest Profession... Writing, Of Course

1, 2, 1-2-3-4

Rocket Science

Drop Shot

Treasure Moon

Super-Dooper!

Lip Service

"Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." John 8:7

Super Pooper

There Can Be Only One!

Conscience Disclaimer

A Sight For Sore Eyes

A "Dent" In My Day

Slow Cooker

Good Morning Is An Oxymoron

School Daze

"Now, Sit Right Back, and You'll Hear a Tale..."

A-Z 2012

Channel Choices

Canon Fire

Gingy 2011

Dollar Tree

Family Fun

My Favorite Math

Santa's Team

Deck the Halls

Ker-Flush!

Holiday Cheer Epiphany

Surprise Inside!

Anti-Climactic

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words...

Ambrosial Aroma

Christmastime Magic

Goose on the Loose

Happy Holidays, Indeed!

Pride, Prejudice... and Zombies?!

The Refiners Touch

You Know You're Old When...

A Sweet Deal

Poetry For The People

"Better A Witty Fool Than A Foolish Wit." William Shakespeare

*KLUNK!*

When It Rains It Pours

Divine Decadence

Hey, Hey, Hey!

Sooner Rather Than Later, Please!

FOR THE WIN!

You Can Cut Cards, You Can Cut Corners, Or You Can Cut...

LANDMARK!

What Will You Be This Year?

A Day in My Life

Philosophical Art

Thoughts to Ponder/Ponderous Thoughts

Beauty from Ashes

JIMMY, I CHOOse you!

Monk-y Business

Victory After Failure

Stevie-ism

"Every Leaf Speaks Bliss to Me..."

“Failure is not a crime.” Wangari Maathai

She who laughs last... at least gets to laugh

Pampered Pup

Ain't no Co-inkydink

Puppy Love

KLUNK!