I mean to do a lot of things. I mean to run 4 miles every morning before work. I mean to wash my sheets once a month. I mean to drink 2 liters of water a day. I mean to finally get a Texas drivers license. I mean to buy a scentsy. I mean to learn the piano. I mean to go to Ireland. I mean to write my mother. I mean to keep a journal. I mean to wash the bird poop off my car. I mean to blog twice a week…and so on…but-I have finally started to do some of the things I’ve been meaning to do…first on the list; join a choir (and no, ward choir does not count).
I have been looking online for choirs to join, but with my crazy, ever-changing and evening-crashing work schedule, a choir that I could squeeze in was hard to come by. I have one day consecutively off a week…and although that day SHOULD be Sunday, it’s Thursday. After much searching of the world-wide web, I found a choir that just so happened to meet every Thursday. And it just so happened to be an all-women chorus. And it just so happened to be a barbershop chorus. AND, it just so happened to be full of women 3 times my age. I couldn’t have been more excited.
I have been going now for the past few weeks and I have loved every second of it. I love that I got hugs from several women the first week I was there, and more-so the second and third. I love that they try to set me up with their grandsons. I love that I am forced to sing so hard my voice is raw by the end of the three hours. I love that I have to practice. I love that there is an 85 year old in the choir who is a master ping-pong champ. I love that they all go out for margaritas afterward. I love that they do dancing warm-ups (that I still cannot figure out how to do). I love that they have a good news minute at the end of practice…just like relief society. I love that they joke about broken hips and doctors appointments. I love that it’s all acapella. But most of all, I love that I get to wear things like this when we perform…
Raising a family with nine girls put a lot of stress on my dad. Not only did he have to go on countless daddy-daughter dates, keep his mouth shut when we were PMSing (often at the same time), learn to step through the living room without demolishing our barbie house which had taken over, make flower head wreaths (out of weeds of course), compliment our new outfits or hair-do's, or, heaven forbid, participate in girl talk, BUT, he had to do all the things that women should never have to do. You know, things like un-clogging the toilet, changing the tires, killing the spiders, building the shelves, barbecuing the hamburgers...manly things. Unfortunately, although my dad is still a handy-man, he has become a lot less handy...especially since I moved 3,000 miles away. So, I get stuck with having to do stuff like this:
So...I was looking through my pictures the other day and noticed a startling thing...90% of them were either of me stuffing my face, or something that I was about to stuff my face with. I knew before coming down to Texas that I would be in one of the fattest states in the country, but that didn't stop me. In fact, it was a bit appealing. After all, I love food. I love making it, I love sharing it, I love going out for it, I love learning about it, I love experimenting with it, I just started trying to grow it, but most of all I love eating it....and eating it...and eating it. Here's a little sampler for you of what has filled my tummy just within the last couple months...and we are not even going to mention the food I ate in Mexico! (that will have to come later)...
Rudy's BBQ
my personal chef, and pre-tempura-ed veggies...SO good!
the cove; great atmosphere, great food, great company.
by far most amazing ribs ever...made, once again, by my personal chef.
strawberry ice-cream at the strawberry festival!
reason number three why I love Canada: wonderbras...I mean bars.
Moroccan Bites and Julie's amazing dessert/dinner.
Fresh veggie salad from the garden...with the gardener himself.
turkey legs at the rodeo!
funnel cake...with EVERYTHING on it.
spurs dog...no wiener of waterton...but we're a little to far south for that.
thanksgiving pumpkin pie.
apple feast at inks lake at sunset
Pineapple upside-down cake...an Alton Brown masterpiece.
Mount St. Dillon
Julie's gumbo!
Our favorite mobile taco restaurant.
Green: most incredible vegetarian cuisine in San Antone.
One of the first things I found out about Max when we started dating was that he slept in a hammock; not occasionally, not whenever he wanted to nap in the cool afternoon shade, but ALL the time. He had removed his bed from his bedroom and replaced it with a hammock where he would sleep that whole semester. Although I thought it was a bit on the insane side, ideas like these have always drawn me to him. I just never thought I would succumb to them…
It was two in the morning (once again, past my hour of reckoning), and we were deep in the heart of Mexico. Now, when I say deep, I mean deep. We had come upon El Tajin, the ancient ruins we were planning on exploring, but they didn’t open until the morning so we had some night to kill. Max decided it would be a brilliant idea to drive out into the middle of nowhere and set up the hammock for the night. So we drove…and drove….and drove...down countless winding roads through nothing but fields and forests until we came upon the perfect spot. In the middle of what turned out to be a cornfield (I realized in the morning), he tied up the hammock to some avocado trees and we spent the rest of the night in a hammock in the Mexican wilderness.
I was amazed that:
1. We weren’t eaten by Mexican wildcats. In fact, the only contact we had with any life at all was the next morning when a man drove his car all the way down to where we were, got out, barfed in the cornfield, and then got back in his car, turned around, and left. Hm…whatever.
2. It never got cold. We stayed warm with just Max’s amazing Mexican blanket purchased on a previous trip down..and a little cuddling of course.
3. We were not arrested and incarcerated in a Mexican prison. We had NO idea whose field we were in but were pretty sure if someone came to kick us out, we could just act like we didn’t speak Spanish. Well…Max would act, I would be sincerely clueless.
4. Hammocks are surprisingly comfortable.
Max, after a wonderful nights sleep.
The corn/whatever field we called home for the night.
It's time to make a confession. No, not THAT kind of confession. And I'm only allowed to make this confession so soon because the people I am keeping this from (hopefully) will not have access to this posting...at least not until it's been long enough not to matter anyway.
Max has been in town (no, that's not the confession). But whenever Max is in town we tend to do some pretty spontaneous things...most of which will have to come in later blogs because I have church in an hour. Anyway, I got home from work late one night (around midnight) after an awful day of feeling like the worst nurse on the planet, and after venting to Max for an hour or so with him being completely understanding and helping me change my perspective as he often does, he had a brilliant suggestion; "let's go to Mexico!" After exhausting my excuses (like 1. My dad would kill me if I didn't get killed by the banditos first 2. There is a chance I may ACTUALLY be killed by banditos 3. I have to work. 4. Max's $425 ride may or may not be able to make it to the grocery store, let alone Mexico. Oh, and 5. It's one in the morning!). The last argument is probably the one that made it happen since I tend to make completely irrational decisions late at night.
One of my top 3 favorite websites of all time is Ted.com. I absolutely love learning about the new and innovative ideas of this forever-changing world. If you don't know what it is-PLEASE check it out.
The other night I was feeling particularly stressed out after work and sat down to my computer to watch a Ted or two. I came across a talk by a man who apparently has the "best blog in the world". Hm...I'll be the judge of that. After listening to him talk for 20 minutes about his life story and his passion for blogging I had to check it out. And...after spending over and hour on http://1000awesomethings.com/, I came to realize everyone was absolutely right. Best blog in the world. It's about the simple things that make life great; the oddities of humanity, the tender mercies we experience every day, and the people that make it all worth it.
Now, I don't want to say I had the same idea a LONG time ago...but...I had the same idea a long time ago. I have been meaning, for some number of years now, to keep a record of all the tender mercies I experience throughout the day. Unfortunately, like so many other important-but-not-pertinent things in my life...it got pushed aside. So, I will just give you just a glimpse of some of the awesome things I have noticed just within the past few weeks.
1. When you remember you had cookies in the oven just at the peak of "done-ness".
I love to cook. Sure it takes time, and patience, and sometimes a little sweat, but there's nothing like taking the first bite of a delicious meal prepared by your own hand. And even better when you have someone to share it with. However, there is nothing more frustrating than turning your hard-labored food into ashes...just because you refuse to use a timer. So...when everything goes your way and the food comes out perfect, heave a sigh of relief and bite into some awesomeness.
(oh-so-delicious pumpkin cookies)
2. Waking up from a nap and your hair looks better than when you laid down.
3. Songs that don't make any sense.
Songs have a strange capability of bringing us to a place we thought was long forgotten. Their meaning seems to speak directly to our soul and put words to our deepest thoughts. However, what about the songs that don't make any sense at all? Like "Wildcat" by Ratatat. It doesn't make any sense. It holds no stark meaning, but is all about the here and now. And that is what makes it so awesome.
4. When your roommate unloads the dishwasher.
Nobody likes to do that.
5. Suddenly noticing everybody's veins.
It happens to all nurses at some point or another. It happened to me when I was standing in the line at the post office. The man in front of me had the most beautiful veins I had ever seen and as I starred, I couldn't help but think of how glorious it would be to start a 16 gauge IV catheter into his juicy river of flowing blood.
(This is a pic of a tapestry from an art exhibit I went to downtown the other day. I think he was suppossed to be a Greek god of sorts...but all I could think about was starting 5,000 IV's in his perfect arm)
6. No-name bands.
40 fans (most heavily intoxicated and covered in tattoos and piercings), all jammed into a tiny, smokey room on the second level of a 100 year old home. Awesome? You bet. Because amidst all the chaos there are four incredibly talented musicians playing songs they spent months to write, to a group of young adults who paid absolutely nothing to come see them.
7. Boys
I know what you're thinking. But I'm talking about the boys who help you do things you would otherwise have to pay a bunch of money to get done. It might be a little steriotypical, but boys are just better at these kind of things. Things like yardwork, basic fix-ups around the house, and mechanics...lots and lots of mechanics. Oh, and pushing things.
(The two wonderful boys who helped me push the Green Machine before it got towed)
8. Feeling obligated to go to something and dreading it…only to find out it has been cancelled!
9. Playing dress-up.
Yes, even big girls like to play dress-up. And you really can't help it after (somewhat) guiltlessly watching a whole season of American's Next Top Model in a weekend.
(How I wish I could share the amazing pics of my partner in crime and not be killed...now THAT would be awesome!)
