Public Service Announcement

This is a public service blog.  Here are some tips you might be dating a serial killer. This is not from my own personal experience.  At least not that I'll admit to.

1. He doesn't like Oreos.
2. He's got an American Flag hunting knife in his tuxedo pants.
3. He's got duct tape and plastic wrap in his truck.
4. You look at his magazines and various letters have been cut from the pages.
5. You see him on Dateline: To Catch a Predator.
6. He's got "nephews" that aren't related to him.
7. Your cat goes missing.
8. He offers to install an alarm system for you.
9. We writes in a stabbing motion.
10. He asks if anyone knows where you are whenever you go out.
11. He doesn't like Oreos.
12. All his ex girlfriends are missing or dead.
13. He has barn but no animals.
14. He offfers to give you a pedicure.
15. He has a lock on his basement door.

If you have seen anyone matching this description, please let me know... I'd probably want to date him.

For My Mother, With Love

I promise, I am not writing on this blog anymore but my sweet mother just called me and she was crying.  She doesn't often cry.  She wanted me to write something for her.  She wanted me to use my blog to pay homage to someone that has been a part of her life for almost 20 years that she lost today.  And I simply cannot refuse my mother, especially when there are tears involved.

My mother is lovingly known to me and others as Big Sara (in reference to her big hair, big personality and tiny stature).  She has taught eighth grade English since God was a boy.  She might have taught Him grammar, I don't know.  She is animated, and dramatic, and tough and brilliant.  She is, without question, one of the very best teachers I ever had.  She is truly passionate about what she teaches.

For those of you she taught, or anyone else that feels so inspired... once you read this... you might send her a note - sara.woodard@pisd.edu.  It will mean the world to her to hear from you.

For as long as I can remember, my mother has taught "The Diary of Anne Frank" and the book "Anne Frank: Remembered."  She is passionate about teaching about the horrors of the holocaust, the hope of that little girl and the extraordinary courage of Miep Gies to hide the Franks in Amsterdam.

When I returned home from my post high school graduation trip through Europe, the only thing my mother really wanted to hear about was the Anne Frank annex in Amsterdam.  Then later I went to Poland and spent two days at Auschwitz.  It took me 4 days to tell her everything I saw and experienced.  She was riveted.

Over the years, I think my mom has grown to consider Miep Gies to be a friend.  So yesterday, when at 100 years old, Miep Gies died.  My mother lost a friend and she is mourning that loss right now.  It might seem a bit strange to anyone that doesn't love literature the way my family does.  But my mom has studied her life, studied her work, watched every interview ever made of her and holds her in high esteem.  So for my mother, the loss is palable.

Miep Gies was 100 years old.  My mother said "you see, she must have been a good person, she lived so long."

She is the last survivor of the Anne Frank legacy.  She safeguarded their lives the best she could and then saved and cherished Anne Frank's Diary.  Without her courage the world would never have known that coming of age, even in fear and hiding and terror, is still coming of age.  Without Gies, we would never have the words of a young girl facing death to remind us that "Despite everything, I believe that people really are good at heart."

Gies has never considered herself a hero, never considered the risks she took to hide the Franks... when asked about why she agreed to help... she simply said

"I could foresee many sleepless nights and an unhappy life if I refused. And that was not the kind of failure I wanted for myself. Permanent remorse about failing to do your human duty, in my opinion, can be worse than losing your life."

So tonight, half a world away, a Baptist Girl from Louisiana is morning the loss of a 100 year hero from Vienna.  Mourning the loss of someone that had grown to be her hero and maybe even a friend, at the very least a trusted companion.  The type of friendship that can only be born from reading and reading stories year after year and inspiring students to do their very best through the words of real people that have been through extraordinary circumstances.

So I write this eulogy of "My Mother's Miep" because she asked me to.  And hopefully to help her understand why she grieves.  She grieves that the story has finally ended.  She grieves that one of the very last pure good souls is gone.  She grieves that her hero is human.

And though Miep wasn't Jewish, I somehow feel the mourner's Kaddish is an appropriate way to commemorate her life.

May His great Name grow exalted and sanctified in the world that He created as He willed
May He give reign to His kingship in your lifetimes and in your days,and in the lifetimes of the entire Family of Israel, swiftly and soon.
Now say:
Amen.
May His great Name be blessed forever and ever.
Blessed, praised, glorified, exalted, extolled,
mighty, upraised, and lauded be the Name of the Holy One
Blessed is He. beyond any blessing and song, praise and consolation that are uttered in the world. Now say:
Amen
May there be abundant peace from Heaven and life upon us and upon all Israel.
Now say:
Amen
He Who makes peace in His heights, may He make peace, upon us and upon all Israel.
Now say:
Amen

~~I write this for my mother, who taught me to love the great characters of history, especially, the real ones~~

Time to Say Goodbye

Today is a sad day for me.  For the past couple of months I've had big fun writing about my ramblings and putting my various ridiculous notions to "paper".

Most of you have gotten it, most of you have laughed or cried along side me.  But sadly, some haven't.  Though I warned that I might offend, that I would speak my mind... its come to my attention that a few followers have taken offense and are frankly, holding some of my ridiculousness against me.  Some of its just that well, frankly, its not the best idea to put your every thought and idea on the internet for random strangers to read. 

I'll be open about this one last time, I think its very silly to be bothered by something you chose to read.  I only REQUIRE a few people to read this.  So this fun experiment for me, this journey of publicly sharing my journey of self discovery has come to an end.  Because I simply cannot abide people reading what I write, and then talking bad about me to others.  You may not agree with my opinions, or hearing about what I had for dinner and that is just fine, but sadly, I've taken your disagreement personally. 

I can't change the fact that I've taken in personally.  That's just who I am.  All prickly on the outside, but really pretty sensitive.

So, I'll be signing off of sherrybelieves.blogspot.com.  Thanks for reading while it lasted.

Well, I Believe in the Texas Longhorns.

Last night, I, along with the rest of America, watched something amazing.  Today, my heart truly breaks for the Longhorns.  A few weeks back I talked about hope and that I truly hoped the Longhorns didn't break my heart.

And you know what, it wasn't them... it was the game. 

A part of me thinks its wrong that I cried.  I had said since December, after watching the SEC Championship game... that I hoped we would win, but I didn't think we would.  But I never imagined it going down like that.

All season, I have called Garret Gilbert "The Freshmen".  If you asked me why I would tell you that its because he hadn't done anything to earn a name yet.  Garrett Gilbert did last night.  It wasn't a pretty performance, and I know - there were 4 interceptions and I think 2 fumbles.  But he kept on trying.

I have never hoped for anything like I hoped last night.  Not so much for the Longhorns, as much as for that kid, Gilbert.  I hoped he wouldn't have to bear the weight of that game or the loss on his little 19 year old shoulders.  I hoped that something miraclous would happen and that Colt McCoy would jog back on the field in a blaze of glory.  I hoped that Will Muschamp could stop Alabama's offense (and it looked like he would a little bit there.) I hoped that Marcell Dareus would somehow disappear off the face of the earth, and especially out of the Rose Bowl.

And today, in the light of day,  I don't know if I have ever been prouder to be a Longhorn.  I know he cried, but Colt didn't do it on TV like Tebow.  Made me proud.  I know that Ingram deserved the Heisman for his performance on the field.  But he kind of acted like a punk.  Made me proud of our boys for being stoic.  But you know what really, really made me proud?

What made me wear my burnt orange today?

That with seconds left to win the National Championship against a true freshman quarterback - McElroy didn't look to the crowd and cheer for Bama, he didn't look to his maker and thank him for the opportunity he'd been given.  Nope.  He didn't do any of that.  He did a Horns down.  Because in his victory, he wanted to celebrate our defeat. 

It felt really, really good to matter that much to someone.  Because, I will gladly take all the hate over indifference.  So keep on hating, keep putting us at number 2, keep underestimating.... because after last night I really, really can't wait to see what the Horns have in store for me next year.

Hook 'em.

This Should Make Me Feel Better....

Today I spent most of my day frustrated about all the incovenient things I had to do... wait for the maintenance guy to fix the closet, wait for the insurance adjuster, sit on a one hour conference call that could have been recapped in an email.  So yesterday I just laughed at the ridiculousness.  Today I need to vent about it.  To get some of it off my chest.

My friend Nikki, has this kick ass blog with two of her friends called "Badder Homes and Gardens".  It makes everything I write seem tame, maybe a little sweet and surely sentimental.  But its absolutely funny as shit.  If you are looking for another blog to add... check them out... http://www.badderhomesandgardens.com/.

But that's my point right now, the point is, in one of her entries she mentioned "Things that she thinks are for pussies."  It was an inspired list of things.  So ladies and gentlemen... here are a few things that I think are for pussies.

Oh, and I've already taken my Ambien (at 6:40)... so this list will probably be pretty short or make no sense at all.

For Pussies:
Emo
My Space
Lord of the Rings figurines
Cutting your Own Bangs
Whitman's Samplers
Soccer
Pollen (that stuff is a mother f-er and I could do completely without)
Gun Control
The Jersey Shore
Math
Underground Physics (only Dr. Tom Banks will understand this one)

That's all I can think of right now... but feel free to send me things you think are for pussies.  Cause I really want to get a good list going.  Send em now and send em often.... srw8900@gmail.com

Sherry and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

Do you remember that book from when we were kids, Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day?  I've thought about it quite a bit this afternoon.  Kid starts the day with gum in his hair, falls in the mud, has lima beans for dinner.... I know how he feels.  And here is why.

I've had a Terrrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day and the only thing I can do about it is laugh - hysterically. 

The beginning of my day was rough, the middle was fine and the end has been down right funny. Today was my first day back at work from the holidays and I was actually optimistic and excited about getting back to work.  There's lots to be done and things are hopping at Heart - so I liked the idea of getting back in the office.  Frankly, January has historically been a total crap month for me.  Seriously for the like the past 20 years, if bad, annoying, frustrating or inconvenient things were going to happen to me - they happen in January.  Really, truly... people die a lot in January that are related to me.  I will worry about my mother until the 31st... if she lives through January, well, then, I've got her for another year.  Things would always break on my house in January.  I tend to get random large bills in January.  I'll get mysterious medical ailments that no team of "House-like" doctors can figure out.  I once went to the hospital in January for what turned out to be gallstones... and they diagnosed me with mono.  Anyway, I provide you all this insight into MY VERY RATIONAL fear of January.  To tell you the story of my day today.

If you've had a rough day, take heart, mine was pretty shitty.

At about 4 this morning there was a large bang from my closet.  I awoke with a start certain that my serial killer had finally come for me.  In my freight, I knocked the remote control into that no mans land between the headboard and the floor that you'll never be able to reach without moving the bed.  Of course, I can't move my bed because I am alone and unmarried.  So I have no husband to help me.  Anyway, if I'd had a husband I would have sent him to check out the scary noise and recommended he take a gun.  But again, no husband to do these things.

Not that big of a deal really, until you add it all up.  Simply the fact that entire rack of clothes, shoes, jewelry etc. had fallen in my closet.  Literally, ripped from the wall.  For a normal person this might not be traumatic or even that messy.  But I have a lot of shoes.  I think it even scuffed my brand new burnt orange cowboy boots.  So, my closet is an asshole and the remote is dead to me.  But not the end of the world.

I go back to bed... the rest of the morning isn't that eventful - minor slip but no fall on water from the shower.... but I head off to work and a slew of meetings.

Forget to eat lunch because I am sealing Heart Ball invitations frantically but again... nothing too dramatic.

As I leave the office for my last meeting of the day... this is where we start to slip into the No Good Very Bad part.  I patiently wait my turn to turn right onto the 610 service road.  I signal, and then turn.  Some jackass making a U-Turn hits me.  First thought, crap... now I am going to be late.  But hey, I am ok... car is ok.  That's what matters, right?

Get back into my car, head to meeting.  Granted I am guilty of everything that happened next.  Its technically my fault.  But a whole bunch of it could have been avoided if... you guessed it, I had married young.  Because then I would have a husband that would have taken care of the following:
- put a copy of my updated insurance in my car
- put the front license plate on my car
- renewed my registration
- made me go get a new drivers license when I lost my wallet

Since all of the above plus speeding are what I got tickets for this afternoon within minutes of being hit my an errant u-turner.

So now, I am just sitting here, waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Though I don't really know how, since all my shoes are already on the floor.

Wanted: This Guy

I think this blog is utter genius.  http://rulesformyunbornson.tumblr.com/

Its literally a brilliant list of 1001 rules for a guy.  And now I am looking for the guy that tries to adhere to at least half of these rules.  Apparently my standards for gentlemen callers just went way up for 2010.  I used to be looking for someone that was single, straight, and a smoker.

Now I want the guy that tries to follow these rules.  Here's a sampling... its genius, I tell you, freaking genius...

1. Carry two hankerchiefs.  The one in your backpocket is yours, jacket pocket is hers.
2. Real sweaters don't have zippers.
3. At the ballpark, never start the wave.  But never let it die.
4. Sometimes your best bet is to bet on her.
5. Be confident on the subway.  Bronx is up; The Battery is down.

So, gentlemen... if you'd like to attempt to follow these rules... I would like to attempt to date you. 

Happy New Year's

I really, really like the New Year.  I love making lists and setting goals and saying all those wonderful things I am going to do.  Like maybe put away my laundry from last week.  You see the key is make your resolutions simple... like to put away your laundry that your mom did for you when you took it home over Christmas in trash bags. So that way, once you do it... you can mark it off your list and 2010 will already be a success.

So, New Year's Resolution #1... put away the laundry that my mommy did for me.  Its the first thing I will do tomorrow. 

Bridget Jones... one of the coolest chicks I know... says it best

 "I do think New Year's resolutions can't technically be expected to begin on New Year's Day, don't you? Since, because it's an extension of New Year's Eve, smokers are already on a smoking roll and cannot be expected to stop abruptly on the stroke of midnight with so much nicotine in the system. Also dieting on New Year's Day isn't a good idea as you can't eat rationally but really need to be free to consume whatever is necessary, moment by moment, in order to ease your hangover. I think it would be much more sensible if resolutions began generally on January the second."

I totally concur... you see one of things I wanted to do was make sure I posted a blog starting on the first and that I was more consistent.  Its now the third, so I've already f-ed up that resolution.   Instead my first day of 2010 included the following statement, out loud, from me, spoken in front of people ... "This is a truly horrible idea.  But I am gonna do it anyway."  And I did.  It was a ton of fun. 

However, as a result,  my 2010 has consistented of laying on the couch watching NCIS mararthons, every conceivable bowl game, and 2 movies... cause anything else made me sick to my stomach.

So I've decided that all my goal setting, resolution making, ways to improve me... etc... well, those can all start tomorrow. I've got the day off anyway.

Happy New Year to my adoring public... my true hope for this year is that this ridiculous little blog takes off and I can sell it for a zillion dollar book deal... and then buy you all one of those little umbrella drinks when you come visit my villa on the beach.

Mazel Tov, my loves!!!

Silent Night

There is a stillness, a peaceful quiet that happens as Christmas comes to a close.  The roads are less traveled, the store fronts are closed, the phone rings less and the email bing is silent.  This year, I noticed the stillness more than I have in the past...and I reveled in it.

The excitement and energy of Christmas morning has waned into a shared sofa with my mother and Fa La La La Lifetime.  I truly can't imagine a better day... a day spent with family and loved ones.

I've already made my list of people to see and stores to visit tomorrow and I know that this quiet won't last much longer.  But it got me to thinking.  To thinking about the peace that comes on Christmas; God's simple way of making me pause and take stock of all the wonderful gifts in my life.  More so today than any other day I recognize the beauty in my world - the surprise White Christmas, the laughter through tears at the Christmas dinner table, the longing for friends, the bittersweet memories of Christmas's with my dad and grandparents, the special hope for Christmas's future and the pure joy of knowing that today is different.

So today, I'll not send a message to the cosmic void, but I'll send a message to each of you.  Today I won't send my questions, worries or woes.  Today I wish you each the peace of knowing Christ's love and the warmth of your families loving embrace.

When I was little I would read the following passage outloud on Christmas Eve to my family, from Luke.

But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.  Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."


Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."

Merry Christmas.

Well, I Believe... for Christmas

'Tis the season for sorts of wonderful things including a list of all the things I believe in for Christmas. 

Well, I believe in advent calendars.  Misteltoe, trains and nativity scenes.  I believe in sending cards and getting cards.  I believe the "from" on the tag should always say Santa. 

Well, I believe in the Christmas candles from "The Market".  Lights on the house, glitter and Christmas China. I believe in reading the Christmas story from Luke on Christmas Eve. And I believe in re-reading a "Christmas Carol" so I know all the buildings in my mom's Dicken's Village.

Well, I believe in opening your presents Christmas morning instead of Christmas Eve.  Christmas pajamas, wreaths and bows.  I believe in having cinnamon rolls and coffee on Christmas morning and I believe in stockings that are loaded down with goods.

Well, I believe my mom's traditions are the right ones.  Big bows, pretty paper and white twinkle lights.  I believe in the candlelight service on Christmas Eve.  I believe in singing Christmas carols as loud as possible. And saying "Merry Christmas" even to complete strangers.

And well, frankly, I believe in the Christmas spirit.

Season's Change

I have told you guys why I love football.  I provided you with detailed information on my love of the game.  I am a little sad that the season is coming to a close... soon the bowl games will be played ... I'll have to resort to watching pro football and the playoffs.

The joy that gets me through this... well, its the next season that is coming.  That's right... AWARD SHOW SEASON!

I ell oh vee ee, love it.  The Golden Globes are January 17.  Its my season opener.  And yes, just like football season... I throw watch parties.  I make you wear a formal, there is betting and by God... you don't talk during the presentations.  I mean you talk all you want during technical presentations.  But if you talk during Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Supporting.... you get the idea... if you think you'll need to talk during those - don't bother coming over.

Now starts my season of going to the movies every Sunday morning to see all the nominated movies.  Now starts the detailed debates with Marla, Carolyn and Karen.  The debates over movies in Carolyn's kitchen over a bowl of queso and an daquiri.

The Academy Awards ... March 7.  Some jackasses are going to want to watch basketball.  That's for pansies.  This is serious competition and the stakes are high. 

Though I will admit two things.  I am not nearly as loyal to my pick for movie of the year as I am to the Texas Longhorns.  And I am pretty sure that Twilight and New Moon aren't going to get any nominations... unless Jacob gets one for most improved abs.  That's a vote I think we can all agree on.

Well, I DON'T Believe...

Here's the deal.  I have figured out something big that I just don't believe in. 

Sick feelings in the pit of your stomach.

I've had one for the better part of a month and its starting to piss me off.  And you know what? I am not alone.  I asked around.  Other people have this affliction, too.  It's so freaking annoying.  You know that feeling of just impending doom...

worry about what people think of you
what they are going to think of your work
how your meeting is going to go
if the Christmas tree is just a little crooked
if you remembered to unplug your straightener
if that police man going to notice your expired registration
is he going to call
can everyone see that pimple on my forehead
is your cooking any good or are people just being nice
do I have food in my teeth
should I have said that
what did she/he/it mean when they said.....
are my feet going to hurt in these shoes
what are the manicure/pedicure women saying about you when they are talking so fast
what are people going to think of me
are their parents going to like me
is that spelled correctly
is there really a serial killer after me
what will they think of my blog
why won't he/she/it hold my hand
can people see my gray hairs
is this all there is

That damn feeling, the sick sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.  I think mine's busted.  Seriously, I think its freaking broke cause it just won't go away.  It's a total a-hole.  So, tonight, I am trying to send all these worries and woes out to the cosmic void.  In the hopes that this asshole feeling goes away for the holidays.  Oh, and that it leaves my friends alone, too.

It's All About Me

I hit a bumpy patch in the road recently and filled up to brim with doubt.  I asked a good friend to help me remember what motivates and drives me.   

I would like to encourage each of you to take a minute and ask someone you trust to tell you what they think drives you.  For me, this has been a liberating experience and its completely turned my perspective around.

And I love that I get to take my self indulgence to new heights by publishing it on my blog.

This is her response.

You like to be needed and provide solutions for people so long as you have a team of people working for you and so long as you have power/control and are driving the train. You don't enjoy solely providing... you like to lead and make decisions. You don't like to be the smartest person in the room when you don't have control.

You are also motivated by very smart people in powerful positions who look to you for your point of view. You are often surprised by your ability to deliver on this. This isn't unusual but is worth noting. You like finding things that don't work and then revamping how it's done so it makes sense. You like perks that enable you to do and experience "exclusive" and "VIP" opportunities and you like to be able to provide those same "perks" to people you like.  Someone gets on your shit list, their done. No looking back. No 2nd chances. Their dead to you. But you have one of the biggest hearts of anyone I know and once you like someone and know their story, you will do whatever it takes to support them, make them laugh, fight for them, take time for them, travel thousands of miles to be at their wedding in the Bahamas, etc. And ideally, those kinds of relationships are not exclusive to your personal life - in fact, you like to have your personal and professional lives mesh in that regard.




You love the funny. You LOVE telling funny stories and you often times tell them multiple times in a day. You really love being the center of attention and have been known to increase the volume of your voice so that your presence is known to all those sitting/standing/walking within a 100 yard radius. You are competitive but you enjoy helping others succeed and you are very good at helping them do so. You have a horrible singing voice. It must be stopped. But you will be heard anyway...your favorite people are those that think your horrible singing is hilarious. I am one of those people.


 

Hope's a Bitch, but I can't break up with her...

Hope is a total bitch.  I wish Hope was my friend.  I wish Hope was actually some girl I know instead of this nagging, irritating, constant emotion inside me.

I am that girl, the one that is always hoping.  Believing in people, believing that the best it about to happen.  And frankly, it makes me a nervous wreck.  I am the red headed chick from "He's Just Not That Into You"... constantly hoping, trusting, and making an ass out of myself.

I quote a lot of movies on this delicious blog, well, simply because I love them.  So here's another one that I love ... its from "He's Just Not That Into You"... its Gigi, the red head, the hopeful one... its me.

Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up. If a guy punches you he likes you. Never try to trim your own bangs and someday you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending... But sometimes we're so focused on finding our happy ending we don't learn how to read the signs. How to tell from the ones who want us and the ones who don't, the ones who will stay and the ones who will leave. And maybe a happy ending doesn't include a guy, maybe... it's you, on your own… Or maybe the happy ending is this, knowing after all the unreturned phone calls, broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment you never gave up hope.

I gotta tell you.... I could have used this information when I was younger.  I cut my own bangs a lot and it was always disastrious.  The thing about this... is this.. doesn't it seem to apply to everything? Its not just about hoping for love.  I end everyday filled with hope and sure that tomorrow morning is the day that I will leap from my bed early and be ready to tackle the day.  Hopeful and trusting that I'll do something amazing, like cure a disease or invent a longer lasting lightbulb.  And every morning... I hit snooze for at least an hour and struggle to even get my simple tasks complete.
At work, I have a meeting and I get so excited because its the best meeting ever and I am sure they are going to give a million dollars to the Heart Association... and then it starts... the Hope.  I start to imagine all the wonderful things that we'll be able to do and I am so hopeful.  And most of the time, I have unreturned phone calls, some embarassment, misread signals ... but I keep hoping... through it all... until my heart gets broken.

Every January I am filled with hope ... hope that I will not hate swimsuit shopping that year, hope that I'll actually balance my checkbook, hope that I won't trip when walking (which I do often), hope that my Barista boyfriend will realize that he loves me... until none of it happens... and my heart starts to ache.

And frankly, cosmic void, as much as I hate the disappointment that so often follows hope. I can't shake the habit of being hopeful.  I can't stop dreaming big and expecting the best.  I can't help myself; the hope high is just too great.  And there is always, not matter how tiny, that chance for a happy ending. 

Right now, I am focused on on singular hope. I hope the Longhorns win the National Championship. I really do. I hope that there aren't mis-read signals, or embarassment. I'll keep hoping until January 7th and I'll keep wishing and I'll keep praying. And I am really, really hoping that they don't break my heart.

So I am going to keep on hoping, keep on riding the Hope high... because I am just not sure I'd appreciate things as much if they weren't the fulfillment of my hopes.  

The Great Christmas Debate

There are two kinds of Christmas people.  Christmas Vacationers and A Christmas Storiers. 

Except for my mother.  Big Sara is totally a Mircale on 34th Streeter.  She was very clear with me about this when I mentioned that I was struggling with how to really delve into this great Christmas Debate.

So here's my theory... everyone has a kind of Christmas habit... they'll either stop the channel flipping on Clark or Ralphie.  Both have brilliant lines, scenes and both mean different things to different people.

I think that the films speak to different people in different ways.  And I am concerned that I might be a middle of the road person.  I truly believe this is one of the best lines in a film ever....

"We're going to press on, and we're going to have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tapped danced with Danny fucking Kaye."

But I cannot contain myself when that kid can't move his arms, or he puts on the bunny pajamas, or the whole you'll shoot your eye out thing - I full out belly laugh... everytime.  All 12 times that TNT plays it on Christmas Day.

It might be a generational thing... I don't have the answers.  I don't know if anyone does.  I just know that this great divide exists and I wonder about it everytime the holidays roll around.  Can a Vacationer marry a Storier?  Could they find love amidst their differences?  Does this divide families?  What does it truly say about each of us? 

So today, I am sending these questions out to the cosmic void because I don't want to judge anyone for their Christmas movie choices.  I love each of you, no matter your choice.

But me, well, I think I am going to go watch "It's A Wonderful Life"

It's Been A Long December...

"Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does, even for me."

Yeah, I just quoted New Moon. 

This year I feel like time has raced and suddenly it has slowed to a crawl.  My days pass slowly now matter how busy I am and I lie awake a night with thoughts racing.  Although a bit awkward and uncomfortable to admit, I totally get what Bella was saying.  This year lurched by and now all of a sudden its a dragging lull.

But I think I have figured out why.  I haven't sent my Christmas list to my mom and Elizabeth. For some reason, today, I felt like I should publish my Christmas list.  This way, if any of you are wondering what to get me for Christmas... you'll know.

Here it is, Ladies and Gentlemen, my 2009 Christmas list. These are presented in no particular order.

1. Edward  Cullen
2. Kitchen Aid Mixer (stainless steel)
3. 2010 Tahoe (tan, tan leather)
4. Brown cowboy boots with burnt orange tops from Nordstrom's (these are on hold under Sara Woodard at the Nordstrom's Galleria in Dallas)
5. Cross Necklace from Tiffany's in silver
6. Dish Towels from Williams Sonoma (red stripe)
7. US Weekly Subscription
8. Small Flat Screen TV for my bedroom
9. Rolling pin
10. Sieve
11. New Chanel Eyeshadow
12. Diorshow Blackout Mascara
13. Coco Chanel Perfume
14. One billion thread count sheets

I think that's pretty much it.  It's a simple list this year.

City Council Meeting Minutes - Ashlyville

The first city council meeting for the inaugural town in Sherryland - recented named Ashlyville- was conducted today. Below are the meeting minutes from the Ashlyville City Council Meeting.

The fiirst item on the agenda was the proposed expansion of Ashlyville.  The Development Committee met yesterday and approved the motion for expansion.  At this time, the approvals include a Whataburger and a Barnes and Noble.  Other structures were approved but have not been leased yet. 

A motion was introduced again by the Coalition for the Prevention of Ilegal Fornication to close the brothel located on the north end of Ashlyville.  The motion was not approved by a vote of 0-2. 

A petition was introduced by the Ashlyville Hookers for a liquor store to be opened in Ashlyville.  The petition cited the need for customers to be "more liquored up" to encourage incremental interpersonal commerce at the brothel.  The petition is currently under consideration of the Development Committee.

The Deacons from the First Church of Ashlyville presented a request for a permit to carol in the streets during the last two weeks of December.  This was unamisously approved.

The final agenda item was a review of the proposed railroad project through Ashlyville.  However, due to the absence of the railroad commissioner, there was no timeline to review or approve.  The hookers were outraged as they have no way in or out of Ashlyville and feel that the railroad workers present yet another opportunity for increased interpersonal commerce.  The Ashlyville Express Line has an expected completion date of December 11.  Hopefully, in time to bring presents from Santa for the little children of Ashlyville, as well increased client interaction at the brothel.  The Council understands that the railroad commissioner is currently recruiting for a safety engineer before construction can begin.

The meeting was adjorned, eggnog was served and Tiny Tim blessed everyone in Ashlyville.

I Need a Vice

I have quit smoking and quit drinking.  Right now I am regretting both those decisions - cause I could really use a Maker's Mark and a Marlboro Light.  In fact, I desperately want them both even though its 9 in the morning. 

This morning I found out that someone very, very precious to me is sick.  And I am not really handling it well.  So I've sat down to tell the cosmic void how I feel in the hopes that saying it all out loud will help me stop crying.

I am scared. 

I am trying so hard to turn to God, to pray for his will.  But my prayers keep coming up selfish.  I keep praying for her to be better - to not have to go down this road.  I am pretty sure that's not how I am supposed to pray and not what I am supposed to ask for... but its so desperately what I want.  I wish I could be unselfish enough to pray for wisdom, and patience... but I am not there yet. And right now, I wonder if I can ever get to that point. 

I am scared. 

In this moment, I have horrible regret that I moved away.  I just want to be with my friend.  Even if its just to sit next to her and do nothing.  I don't want to be here; I don't want to be in this place away from them.  I feel truly trapped right now.  I know that being there won't change anything but it would just make me feel better.

But for now, I am just going to sit here and pray my selfish prayers and cry.  A lot.

He's Just Not That Into Me

Yesterday I went to lunch with my handsome friend Jared.  He's super sweet too but handsome is the important part of this story. After lunch we decided to go up to my Starbuck's and try to make my barista boyfriend jealous.

I loved this idea and it was great for about the first 5 minutes.  First, Jared has discovered how to get to me to be quiet (he was very excited about this discovery)... apparently all you have to do it put me in the same room with the man I've had a secret crush on for a year.  I become mute.  So there was that.

And then, disaster struck.  I am still reeling from what happened next.

My barista boyfriend flirted with Jared.

Yeah, you read that right.

I am pretty sure it was the hunting knife in Jared's back pocket that did it for him.  It does it for me.  But kids, here's the rub, I feel so cheated, so wronged.  Its like my barista boyfriend has been lying to me for a year.  Like I was the only one in our relationship.  I thought I was reading the signs correctly.  I thought he was into me.  I thought my lattes were special. 

But Jared's latte was free. 

That's Just Geography

Today is my one year anniversary in Houston. For people that move around a lot, this may not seem like a big deal.  But rest assured for this Plano girl, changing jobs and moving was indeed a very big deal.  A year ago today I packed up my belongings and headed south on I-45.

I cried the entire way.  I played sad songs about goodbye until Centerville and then I switched to upbeat songs about making a new start.  But I still cried the whole time.  I unpacked, unloaded and moved in to Kathy's guest room.  Then I went to Madonna, because every new start should start with at least a Madonna song.

I was so scared.  Scared that I wouldn't be any good in another career, scared that I wouldn't make friends, scared that I miss my old life so much.

One of my friends Stephanie asked me on Friday how I've changed in the past year.  When I really started thinking about it, the change in me has been profound.  Some changes are small, like I have shorter hair and wear higher heels.  Some are big, like I am happier more than I am sad and that I try every day to keep Christ as my focus (somedays are better than others).

But the biggest change in me in the past year isn't about geography. I think its how I relate to other people.  Don't get me wrong, its still very much about me and I still very much love to be the center of attention.  I am just much more open to meeting and getting to know others.  But I am no longer defining my worth by what others think of me.  Instead I am finding joy in how they respond to me and in how those relationships grow and change.

"Nobody can go back and start a new beginning but anyone can start today to make a new ending"

How true is that?  I cannot go back and change the mistakes I've made or the experiences I've had... but a year ago I started to shape a new ending and I feel like the story is just now starting to get good.  So to each of you that have been a part of my journey this past year - thank you.  Thank you for accepting me as I am, embracing my eccentricities, tolerating my idiosyncrasies, laughing with me, crying with me, participating in all my new hobbies, listening to my doubts and fears, and most of all celebrating all the extraordinarory moments of the past year with me. 

You'll never know how very much it has meant to me.