In recent weeks I’ve been in the habit of getting up at 6:00 (or a snooze button push or two later) and working out, packing Trey’s lunch, and enjoying my quiet time all before the rest of the house started stirring. But not today mes amies!
Today, as the rain came down soft and steady, the covers came up and I snuggled in for a few extra “have-the-bed-all-to-myself” Zs.
And while I genuinely feel bad for not getting up early to help Trey get out the door, I must say it was absolutely glorious.
Some days you just gotta take advantage of the cozy moments. I’ll get back to my routine (and an early 4 mile run) tomorrow – but for now, I’m hunkering down and snuggling up with this handsome devil.
A couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine posted a link to her Facebook page that caught my eye: 23 Signs You’re Secretly an Introvert. At first, I was just curious, but as I read down the list it slowly but surely dawned on me: Holy crap! I’m an introvert!
It didn’t make any sense at first…I mean, I like people. I’m not shy. I’ve been on stage in front of hundreds of people in frilly panties and a corset for crying out loud! How could I possibly an introvert??? Turns out, everything I thought I knew about introverts was wrong. I had always thought of introverts as people who were painfully shy. The awkward kid who always sat in the corner. Introverts were people who didn’t have any friends. Au contraire, mon frère!
Introverts just like to process things…well, internally. We need downtime to balance out episodes of heightened social activity. Of the “23 Signs” listed in the Huffinton Post article, number 14 is perhaps the most perfect example for me:
14. You screen all your calls — even from friends.
You may not pick up your phone even from people you like, but you’ll call them back as soon as you’re mentally prepared and have gathered the energy for the conversation.
“To me, a ringing phone is like having somebody jump out of a closet and go ‘BOO!,'” says Dembling. “I do like having a long, nice phone call with a friend — as long as it’s not jumping out of the sky at me.”
It’s not that I don’t love you! It’s that you caught me off guard, that’s all! And it’s this exact feeling that has made my weekly scheduled calls with my Mom, so much more pleasant. Because, before we set that schedule, any time she called (or when anyone else calls for that matter) felt like an attack. Not because of what she said, but because the phone rang.
This tiny self discovery has been quite the eye-opener for me! All of the sudden, I no longer worry that I’m possibly suffering from some strange strain of non-suicidal depression. It’s no longer a cause for concern that I just don’t feel like hanging out sometimes. Life, all of a sudden, seems to make sense in a way it never has before (though, I don’t think I ever noticed that it didn’t make sense before). So yeah, when the big neighboring push at church recommends that we just go knock on some doors and I think that’s a HORRIBLE idea, it’s not so much because I don’t want to go knock on some stranger’s door, it’s because the idea of a stranger knocking on my door is about the worst thing that can happen to me on any random day.
So there you have it. I’m an introvert. And by-gum, I think it suits me.
Baby, we were born to run.
Okay, maybe not born to…but we’re definitely growing into it. It’s been a banner year for me, athletically speaking. It seems like just a few weeks ago (holy cow, what happened to February???) I was really proud of myself for being able to run for 5 minutes straight without passing out, or throwing up. And now, I’ve already run 14.5 miles in a week – the longest stretch being four whole miles. FOUR MILES! And I didn’t pass out, or vomit, or even collapse in a heap at my front door when it was over. Holy crap, I think I can actually do this!
Last week, Trey and I buckled down and decided we’re really going to take control of our overall health and fitness. We’ve been counting calories via the myfitnesspal app since August 1st, but last Monday, we synchronized our watches, set our alarms, laid out our running shoes, and actually got up at 6am to hit the streets. Trey’s doing a Couch to 5K program and I’m doing a 10K in Under 65 Minutes program (since I completed my Cto5K in the spring). We take our 5 minute warm-up walk together and then we go our separate ways, following the instructions of our separate audio trainers on our separate running apps (I like Runkeeper cause it syncs with myfitnesspal which means my exercises log themselves).
In addition to this new burst of energy, we had a pretty awesome not super healthy but pretty athletic (for us) weekend-long date. Saturday (after my 4 mile run – WHAT?!? I will never stop being proud of that) we took Jack to the lake (whoever said Golden Retrievers all love to swim was lying), then went to see a movie. Sunday morning, we got up at the crack of dawn so I could sing on praise team at the early service, then we had brunch at Cracker Barrel (hence the “not super healthy” disclaimer), got changed and sun-screened up, and drove an hour through the country to Enchanted Rock for a pretty intense (for us) hike. And yes, we took our Sunday afternoon nap on a blanket on top of the rock. For you SC folks reading this, Enchanted rock is just like Bald Rock…except you have to start at the bottom. After our hike up/nap/hike down/drive home we went to my favorite local burger joint (again “not super healthy”) for a burger, tots, and a milkshake, and then we walked the Cibolo Creek bed – if you head away from the ducks in downtown Boerne, the creek dries out and you can walk where the water should be – lots of cool shells down there and some super awesome photo opp places (I’m talking to you Rochelle & Melissa [whenever you come back to visit with that sweet baby girl of yours!]). By the end of the day we were beyond exhausted but felt very blessed and were loving life more than we have in a while.
It’s amazing what a weekend outside can do for your overall happiness.
Call me crazy, but I’m doing it again. Trey and I have discovered yet another famous trio that fairly accurately depicts the personalities of our cats. I like to think this behavior is much more appealing than collecting cat paraphernalia and dressing our poor animals up in people clothes.
I know you’re waiting with bated breath (cause clearly the title of this post hasn’t already given it away)…so without further ado: Frank, Roger, and Rufus are the cast of Three’s Company! Frank is clearly the Jack Tripper (John Rutter) of the crew. She’s in charge, and she’s good at pouting to get her way. Roger is Janet (Joyce DeWitt); he’s smart, good looking, and does his best to tolerate the shenanigans of the other two. And that leaves poor Rufus as Chrissy (Suzanne Somers). Let’s face it, few characters in the history of television have so accurately depicted “cute but stupid.”
Come and knock on our door. We’ve been waiting for you. Where the kisses are hers his and hers his and his hers, three’s company too!
Last weekend I super sneakily flew to SC to surprise Amy for her 30th birthday. Mission accomplished! She was totally caught off guard.
Adam (my awesome brother-in-law) left a key to their house where I could find it and Mom and I snuck in to wait for them Friday night while they were out. When they came in she screamed…and cried. And it was awesome. Mom caught the whole thing on video, but as it’s not super flattering for either of us, you’ll just have to take my word for it. I got to spend the entire weekend with some of my favorite people in the entire world – family, friends, and some pretty awesome animals as well.
In addition to a weekend of awesome birthday fun, Amy and I also got hooked on watching American Horror Story. Seriously? That’s SO not my style – I always have to watch some cartoons after seeing a scary movie. But for whatever reason AHS sucked us both in. Shame on Amy for watching the rest of the first season without me! I still can’t figure out how I’m gonna catch up cause I’m pretty sure Trey’s mom won’t want to watch it with me!
Sometimes you don’t realize how very much you need a break from your own reality so you can just go home for a while. It was a much needed visit. And THAT is the only excuse I can offer you about why there was no blog post on 8/13. But lucky you, because I feel ever so slightly guilty about it, there’s another one coming up right after this!
Seriously? Three weeks in a row? Shame on me. Even so, I still haven’t broken my “blog weekly” resolution and wasn’t even late until after the half point of the year. So there.
You know how kids, when they’re learning to talk, mispronounce things? The result is occasionally unintelligible, but every now and then, the mistake is an adorable blunder that works itself into your family’s vocabulary. Bisketti. See, you know exactly what that is. And I didn’t even have to tell you. That’s because I’m pretty sure that every child since the dawn of noodles has mispronounced it that way.
Our family was no different growing up. For some reason, I attribute all these new vocab words to my awesome younger sister (who’s turning 30 this weekend!!! HOLY COW), but that just might be because I’m certain that someone once told me that my first real word was “refrigerator.” That can’t be right…but I digress. Here are some of my favorite Muffinisms from way back when:
- shuppy to jink means “I want something to drink”
- babing shoop means “bathing suit”
- I bordot means “I forgot”
That last one, folks, still lives in my frequent vocabulary to this day.
My birthday was Sunday. And it was fabulous.
We spent the weekend having an X-Men marathon before going to see The Wolverine. Trey made me cheese danish and pancakes and a from-scratch carrot cake that is still just as delicious and moist three days later. We also went to see Red 2 (go see it – you won’t be sorry!). Did I mention I love movies? Overall the weekend was incredibly low key and it was glorious.
I know that’s not much of a blog post, but I’m running out of juice (literally: the OJ is almost gone/figuratively: I am totally mentally and emotionally drained), so please excuse the tardiness (2 weeks in a row I’m posting a day late – for shame!) and the lack of delightful and witty insight. Instead, I hope you enjoy these pics of some of my awesome bday gifts:
In the past month I have read 3 1/2 books…and it’s been glorious! It’s been so long that I had forgotten how much I truly missed getting lost in a good book.
I started off with Pride & Prejudice (how I have I only just now read this for the first time?), and I officially have a writer’s crush on Jane Austen. She’s hilarious. But in a witty, clever way that you don’t see coming. Elizabeth Bennett’s father is one of my new favorite characters in all of literature. After that I promptly started on Emma (I told you I had a crush), but have had to put it on hold because two other books entered my life on a timeline and I just finished the second.
Since W. Paul Young (or William P. Young – depending on where you look), author of The Shack, is coming to speak at our church this coming weekend (****MY BIRTHDAY IS SUNDAY PEOPLE! IN LIEU OF GIFTS, PLEASE SEND LOTS OF HOME DEPOT CARDS TO OUR HOUSE SO I CAN DO SOME AWESOME LANDSCAPE WORK, OKAYTHANKSBYE****), I wanted to reread the book so I could get the most out of his message. While I was at the library picking it up (because either Mom or Amy has my copy and they each keep saying the other one has it), I stumbled upon Jenny Lawson’s Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, which was recommended to me to by the fabulous Jay Coffman as something he knew I’d enjoy – and boy was he right! Um, absolutely hilarious. I’ve never enjoyed so many stories about animal carcasses, and lady bits, and zombies…
In short…if you’re a reader, and even if you’re not, don’t let so much time go by that you forget what it’s like to lose yourself in someone else’s story. Because life is nuts, and sometimes reading a book lets you forget.
Of course, you don’t have to take my word for it…
What caused this suspicion to resurface, you ask? Superman, of course.
Have you seen Man of Steel? You should. It’s worth it. And I must confess, my opinion of it has improved after a weekend long Superman marathon. I don’t know if I just never saw the original (except Superman III…I distinctly remember childhood nightmares pertaining to Superman III), or if I was simply too young to remember it. But I have to say that Man of Steel is a fantastic nod to the original, and Henry Cavill would have made Christopher Reeve proud.
Now, to the point. In the first Superman movie, Lex Luthor plans to defeat Superman by way of Kryptonite (surprise surprise) so he can gain control of some nuclear missiles. And who does Lex keep in his back pocket to help do his dirty work? Otis, (a less-than-intelligent oaf who probably can’t count to 20 without taking off his shoes) and Miss Teschmacher…um, the arm candy. In this triad of terribleness we saw, quiet clearly, the personalities of our three felines.
Rufus is obviously the Otis of the group. He’s cute but stupid. He has a lumbering walk and runs into walls more times than he should. He takes orders from the boss and is simply just a dumb henchman. Were he in the actual mafia, he would be the guy who tossed you in your cement shoes into the ocean.
Frank, you should have realized, is the boss, the evil mastermind…she is our Lex Luthor. She is, without question, the brains of the operation. And if you’re in their company for more than 5 mins, you know that Frank runs the show. She’s the Don. She’s Marlon Brando (in The Godfather, not Superman).
And that leaves Roger…aka Miss Teschmacher. He’s pretty and he knows it. He would readily cause distraction with a swish of his tail. And let’s face it, he’s a bit of a fop so I know he’d be all over those awesome sequin gowns. Now, in The Godfather, he’s more of your consigliere, your Robert Duval. He’s the good looking smooth talker, the boss’ right hand man. But you know he’s wearing expensive shoes either way.
But I suppose, in this group, we can’t leave out poor Jack…the lovable, big eyed, best friend…yes, you’ve guessed it.
Jack is Clark Kent.
Have you seen Sleeping With the Enemy? Julia Roberts, 1991, creepiest canned goods scene of all time??? If you haven’t, stop reading right now and go rent the movie…NOW! Cause I’m about to spoil it for you.
The premise is that she’s married to a psychopath who is very abusive and also crazy OCD, so Julia fakes her own death just to get away from him. She spends the rest of the movie setting up her new life and reveling in the fact that she can toss towels haphazardly on the rod and keep her cupboards and absolute avalanche-impending wreck. The final scene(s) of the movie show her with a really uneasy feeling walking through her house. She turns on some music, and it happens to be the psycho ex-hubby’s creepy favorite song. She looks at the towel rod and all the towels are folded equally and hanging completely level. And the clincher – and this still sends chills down my spine – she opens the cupboard (which, earlier that evening was a complete mess) and all the canned goods are stacked evenly with the labels facing forward. It’s TERRIFYING! Don’t believe me? Click here.
I know you’re wondering why I’m talking about a twenty year old movie. No, I didn’t just see it recently…I lived it. And (embarrassingly) not in the way you’d think.
As I get older, I’m becoming more and more of a neat freak. Not in a Howie Mandel germaphobe sort of way, but in an “a place for everything and everything in its place” sort of way. My house would never pass a white glove test – in fact, I don’t remember the last time I dusted or did the windows. But 98% of the time, there is no clutter, no mess, no junk on the floor or piled on the counter. And that other 2% of the time is starting to freak me out. Seriously. Clutter actually causes me anywhere from medium to severe anxiety.
So, since we have doubled the number of people who live in our house this past month, we’ve also doubled the amount of food we keep on a regular basis. Both the fridge and the pantry were overflowing. And it was seriously freaking me out. Every time I would walk in the pantry to get a breakfast bar or a Dr. Pepper, my heart rate would increase and I’d have to take a few deep breaths.
Yes. I recognize that this is probably not normal. I also feel it’s of the utmost importance to express that this seems to genuinely only bother me in my own home. So don’t freak out – unless you’re a candidate for Hoarders, your house will not cause me to have a panic attack.
Anyway, the point of my little OCD confession here is this: I spent just about 45 minutes yesterday totally reworking the pantry and now it makes my whole heart happy. Seriously, I’m pretty proud of this. And yes…all the labels are facing forward.