Just sayin'

I should not be a spring break coordinator.

Really, I should not be a coordinator of a great many things, because while I'd be good at some elements of the process/planning/excitement factors, I'd be less than enthused for most of the follow through.

Anyway.

If I were a spring break coordinator, everyone following my planning would come back to school tired.

The cornfield of journalism. Cornfield of dating? Meh, of both.

I had a meeting with my advisor last semester and as I told her why I left the field of social work--in part due to emotional/anxiety overload, "taking work home" with me, etc.--she stopped me and asked if I'm not worried about that within journalism too.

This stopped me for a tic, thoughts flashed through my mind about covering war or doing several stories on mega crime or something, then thought, "Well hopefully I won't get stuck on stories like that," then tried to change the subject.

But since she knows the field, I trusted her reaction and have thought about it from time to time.

I have to say, I didn't expect such "taking work home" to occur with the current story I'm working on. Topic?

Dating.

I mean, I'm an introspective person as is (had ya noticed?), and it's spring break so I've got some extra hours on hand for some thinking, but...still.

I just feel a little more smacked in the face than I expected. Perhaps a lot more. I mean I sought out to write this piece to make a voice for those who are basically still single (or were previously single, then attached, now not for whatever reason), just to kind of ask why, what that looks like, get the voices of how that feels from the people actively feeling it--the fun, the sad, the ugly.

I guess I just thought 25 years previous experience of singlehood and the thinking that comes with it would make the embarking of this project less than novel.

This is certainly not the first time that I have thought wrong.

I am finding--I guess I already knew it, but now I'm putting a finger on it?--that thinking about being single, in the more serious, scared, sad way rather than the "Let's go clubbin'!" way*, can creep up on you whenever it--pardon my French--damn well pleases.

You can be Miss Positive Polly, hope springs eternal, and then if your thoughts decide to go lonely, well, at least I'm finding in my experience, they will. I certainly suggest, after honestly feeling these negative feelings for a while to grow and trust that you will someday learn from them, to continue on in your Positive Polly efforts, but that doesn't mean you're not gonna have to swat your arms at some big obnoxious plants in your way while keeping that chin up (when I say "plants," you're gonna have to bear with me and come join me in the visual cornfield analogy I'm picturing. Thank you for cooperating with Ms. Kansas here).

This is just what I'm finding. I hope and assume I'm not alone. Not that I wish thoughts of loneliness on any of you, duh. I just don't need any more proof that I'm the odd one out; sometimes I like to fit in. Come on.

*To be fair, while I often wish to go out dancing, I seldom actually wish to go to your typical, *cough* sleazy club. But solid tunes and willing (not super drunk) dance partners? Yes. Please!

badTunes

I am remembering with great fondness the two week spring breaks that were provided each year by my undergraduate facility.

S

I

G

H

.

Ah, let's do another one for good measure:

S

I

G

H

.

I am in one of the most restful environments I can be, yet I feel time slipping through my fingers each day. I wake up tired, go to bed tired.

During Thanksgiving break I spent much of the week feeling as if I had just woken from a nap, as I was just completely and utterly exhausted. I am exhausted right now as well, however the difference between this break and that break (well, there's more than one that we won't get into right here, right now, because then you'll get a very large emotional exhale from me) is that during the last break I really didn't do much work. This time around I'm trying to grab my work by the horns. Because, well I'm afraid I can't afford not to.

Primarily the work is in the form of a stack of tests to grade--grumble grumble grumble--but I'm also sending emails, setting up interviews for a story, setting alarms at night, and just generally doing adult things that I don't normally adhere to, certainly not when I'm on spring break.

All right. Garumph. That's enough griping from me right now. I should be an adult and go to bed soon, since my body and emotions are screaming at me:

"GO TO BED!!"

Night night. (You know, in a while...)

Ick. "Baby, I Love Your Way" just came on my iTunes. Gotta remedy that. See ya.

And what exactly do you mean when you say...'text'?

So...

The New Adventures of Old Christine is on,

and I just saw the scene where Richard pulls his phone out of his pocket, looks at it, and, confused, hands it to Matthew and says,

"There's words on my phone."

Ha ha ha ha ha.

I love this show so much.

A new look?

Well I thought I was going to get a drastic haircut during break, but Jeni doesn't think it's long enough to donate yet. :(

However, I am grading tests, and all this varied handwriting might drive me to the point of needing glasses...Maybe I'll just recycle my Buddy Holly frames, what do we think? The fortunate thing of going with this choice is I have the majority of Garth's lines memorized already.

Garth: "Go then."

Wayne: "I'm going."
G: "Go!"

W: "I'm gone!"

G: [Hand gesture and exasperated look as such]:

April 23rd!

All right, peeps,

if nothing stands in my way I am going

BIRDING!

on April 23rd!

I have been wanting to go bird watching for probably a couple of years now. I just scanned some local Audubon websites and that seems to be the first date I can make it happen.

Who's with me?! We leave at 7:30 a.m.!

I mean I'll go alone, no sweat, and make new friends--yessss--but I certainly welcome company.

So excited so excited so excited!

Maybe I'll see one of these (and maybe I'll have another reason to kiss a gym floor on April 4th. Mr. Obama seems to think so :) :

Ooh boy.

I thought this might happen.

Okay, it's possible nothing is happening.

However, I am feeling woozy at the moment and this could translate to being under the weather. We'll just have to see.

I'm just not surprised that I am feeling woozy now. Classic timetable: finishing things up at school, not enough sleep, eating Reese's peanut butter cups at midnight while replying to emails, rush out of town, a little more than 24 hours at home and

Wham!

Your body lets go of all the tension, and says to you, "Uh, yeah, I'm just gonna lie down for a while."

Well I had a good run today (it's my first day of break, today was clearly a sleep day, plus it's cold outside--grr). Slept 'til noon, had a lovely catch-up chat with Dave at the Bucks, eavesdropped on these two teenage girls who were doing homework on a Friday and chatting with great animation about their schoolwork...precious.

Just tried to do some cross stitch, and then felt like I was about to go blind. So I abandoned crafting ship and after some channel surfing I think I'm ready for bed.

Except I had to come write a post for my faithful web friends first, of course!

;)

Wish me a short-lived wooziness.

"An S?" "Yes, there is one S."

This morning I was reading before class. I ended up only reading for a short set of moments, because I was soon distracted to a point of no return. Well. You know, no return in the sense that by the time the distraction was subsiding it was really time for me to go to class.

Anyway.

So I was sitting in this student lounge of sorts near the newsroom for the paper I reported for last semester, and this group, which I assume to be part of the sports beat, walked in with their editor.

Their conversation,

at first,

was nothing supremely interesting--

however I will say it was more intriguing than specific methodology discussions of between-subjects exposure manipulations in the article I was reading; okay I'll be honest, those details are interesting to me, but I was about t-minus 3 hours away from being free to leave campus for spring break so my attention span for minute research jargon was less than ideal at this point (ANYWAY)--

but it quickly developed so that I was almost literally on the edge of my seat.

I have no idea where they were planning on going later, but from what I could tell their editor was giving them some sort of pep talk/reporter protocol for something like a press conference they were going to attend.

Then.

The editor started talking about indecent exposure. We had received an email about reports of indecent exposure earlier this week from campus authorities, but I didn't know if this was the same thing they were talking about or what.

So then it became apparent to me that the editor had stumbled upon a word he was trying to remember but couldn't quite bring to mind. He asked the students for help, and then as no one could seem to come up with it, he started creating fill-in-the-blank sentences for them.

Are you ready for this?

He said something like, "Yeah, but what is that called? When someone's running across the field [he did a slow motion jog here, in about two paces] and they're indecently exposed, they are a ... ?"

He punctuated his question by placing one foot on the ground as if to indicate to his pupils that they should insert the desired word he was looking for here.

This was killing me that no one knew the answer because it was so obvious!

One student said, "an exposer...?"

Others chuckled. I all but pinched my forehead in disbelief.

I was sitting there wanting SO BADLY to holler over there:

"I believe the word you're looking for is 'streaker.'"

Or, rather, just:

"STREAKER!"

Well, for whatever reason, probably because there was another person in the lounge other than me and not included in the sports beat, or maybe because I couldn't figure out how to be tactful and not make them feel like idiots considering how incredulous I was at the situation before me, I refrained from helping solve the puzzle. I could've bought a vowel for those kids and they all would have been edified.

(Never mind that I'm horrified they are not already edified on this subject to the point that they cannot quickly come up with the term "streaker." I mean, maybe I am inordinately amused by streakers--I am--but Come. On.)

I'm still kicking myself, about 13 hours later here, for not speaking up.

As they moved onto other housekeeping business, another girl entered the lounge and took a seat, so I still didn't jump on my chance to help out the sports beat. Which, really, was stupid, because I actually knew both of these other people in the lounge and really didn't give a rip if they witnessed me offering wisdom about people with an illegal, albeit hilarious hobby.

I think what stopped me more than my audience was the fact that while it may be weird to shout across a room to people you don't know,

"Hey! The answer is streaker!"

I was going on good faith in assuming that it would be bordering on, if not crossing the line over to, downright creepy to

bring the subject back up

several minutes later.

"Ah, excuse me. That word you were looking for about five minutes ago? Just FYI, it's 'streaker.'"

Nonetheless, I'm not sure I remember the last time I was so upset to watch a group of people walk away from me.

You're going to dance. And have fun. --Dee-Lite

My goal is to have the girl below back in action after Spring Break. I took a step toward turning my stressful frown upside down today by making happynews.com my home page. Let's revive crazy dancing Bailey! Enough with the anxious grumps already!

By the way, if anyone finds this sweater in adult size, please send it my way:

Bedtime for 25-going-on-80-year-old Bonzo

I cannot believe I am up so late, AGAIN!

I am supposed to be old and boring! Not pulling all nighters!

I'm NOT pulling an all nighter. But. It's almost 1 a.m.

Spring break, spring break, spring break!

Did I mention I'm already partially packed? I am wasting very little time on Thursday to switch gears and move into break mode! Not that I don't have tons to catch up on over break...but the point is I can sleep, cross stitch, hang with the 'rents and three cats, suck down coffee out of desire rather than for survival of the alertest, NOT go to class, etc. etc. etc.

Smooches! Time for BED!

Here's a story

I don't know if you guys know this, but I am in fact an actress.

Okay I actually vacillate between being terrified of the stage, having no interest in the stage, and feeling like, "I could act in a comedic role today, but...no one's exactly asking me to read a script."

However, technically I was on the speech team in seventh grade (wow, middle school themed posts this week, huh?), AND about two years ago my friend Todd asked me to play Jan Brady. I was scared, but I said yes. And I'm glad I did.

By the way, this was one of the most technically complicated pieces to film, considering I was more or less a first timer. We each filmed separately, and were responding to recorded lines and pretending to look at other actors who weren't actually nearby us. Todd's a mastermind with the techy stuff, so he made it look fantastic. And he did my hair. :)

Oh and you can't really see it that well, but that was one of my mom's dresses from back in the day. Awesome.

"Let us throw off everything that hinders..."

Agh!!!!!! (Read on...Ugh.)

When I was in middle school, I got this thing called the Patriot Award. Twice. 6th & 7th grade.

That said, I only received it in 6th & 7th grade.

The Patriot Award was this thing given out for being a model middle school citizen, essentially. I assume I was granted the insignia because I did my homework, said "please" and "thank you" a lot, listened intently when requested, offered enthusiastic classroom participation when otherwise requested, etc.

In 8th grade I didn't receive the PA. Now I don't know if there was some sort of cap on the number of times any one person could receive a medallion (other people got this too, by the way, I wasn't the ONLY award winner each year), or if I legitimately went from being a teacher fave to a teacher "Meh, she's okay."

I remember my dad asked me if I was a little bit sad not to have received it that third year, and I'm not sure how I responded--perhaps a shoulder shrug--but I do remember that inside I felt both upset and also like I knew I didn't really deserve it that year. It wasn't a great feeling--or, feelings--but it was legitimate and so it was.

My attitude hadn't been entirely stellar, I'm pretty sure I was late to school the day of the award ceremony anyway, and, well, I don't exactly remember being in a great mood toward the end of that year. I was pretty sure my family was going to be moving away that summer (we did), and I was feeling an overall combo of sincere sadness at the impending goodbyes to my friends as well as some disgust at the way some of their personalities were changing, adjustments of group dynamics that had previously been quite comfortable, etc.

A big chunk of this was also due to the fact that I was feeling less the center of attention than before, if memory serves.

All this is to say I'm feeling quite similar to my 8th grade self (well, I often feel similar to her anyway, but that's a whole other essay) right now.

This past week has been, in a word, (emotionally speaking), horrendous.

I have cried. I have cried some more. I have raised my voice, in a public place. After raising my voice, I began crying in that public place, left, continued to cry in my car, and did not finish up my crying until after I had been inside my home for a while.

Three days later, I found myself crying again in my car! About the same thing!

Don't get me wrong. Emotions are real, and they are meant to be felt. This is how we grow and strengthen, and just because you stop crying for a moment doesn't mean that you are somehow more weak, or didn't grow from your tears if somewhere down the road you cry again. I am all for feeling your emotions, crying, telling people how you feel (without intentionally and/or aggressively hurting them), etc.

This week has just been a little intense, even for me.

I feel like if my feelings aren't being hurt, I'm in the process of--or dangerously close to--hurting someone else's feelings.

I want to yell or throw up my hands dramatically when someone does something they didn't mean to do, but that somehow interrupted my life or cramped my style. I know I should tell people how they've upset me, whether they meant to or not (probably the latter), but I don't have the energy, or I don't know maybe I want to sit in my seething state a little longer. I visited a church today and kept thinking annoyed thoughts the majority of the time I was there, and sat in the parking lot for a while before telling myself to go in already.

Let me just tell you, judging people at church makes you feel like a bad person, quick.

So point being here is I know I'm not deserving of any Patriot Award right now, or Model Master's Student plaque, and even if I received something like Most Cynical or Most Sarcastic (I have actually already received that award, in elementary school, and I didn't even know what "sarcastic" meant), such a back-handed compliment would rub me the wrong way, no doubt.

But.

Just but.

I want someone to throw me a bone. I want a freebie, a pass, to just be mad and be a child about it and let that be okay. For whatever reason or big fat glob of reasons, I'm having a rough time. Several of those reasons are well-founded, others are more generic--like fatigue--but they're still legitimate.

I'm just having one of those grouchy hiccups in life where you want to get away from everyone, have someone in particular give you a very long hug, sleep, eat, exercise, be a good student, be a lousy student, all at the same time. You want to be unreasonable and have people forgive you for it, but you don't want to do the same for them, nuh uh.

Sigh.

Sigh sigh sigh.

Four days until I can flee to Kansas, precious cat cargo in tow, and sleep off at least a layer or two of this grouchiness before facing the other sticky veils of nastiness around me that require more complicated gusto (and, in some cases, the help of supportive family and friends, and always, the Big Guy) in order to successfully shrug them off.

One of my favorite verses in the Bible is Hebrews 12:1--the imagery of throwing off "everything that hinders" and the sin "that so easily entangles" to "run with perseverance the race marked out for us" just so often nails exactly how I feel in this life. Tangled. With material things falsely promising peace, or a refusal to forgive others or buck up and be a little more adult about things. Whatever it may be, I think of that verse and just see and feel the heavy ropes of a net around me, making my steps slow, see my toes trip, feel my agitation increasing.

So hard to do, but what a relief! the image of throwing that thing off! Over your head and on the ground behind you. Shake off the corner with your shoe, and then take off for the open field ahead.

Why I like to cross stitch

I think, perhaps, at its base, I enjoy cross stitching because it combines my love of math and my love of color.

It brings the left and right sides of my brain together.

In harmony.

Do you realize how seldom this happens?

Several people in this life embrace the left side of their brain, several others embrace the right.

And then there are those of us who feel constantly torn between them. These are likely the people who said in college, "I don't want to pick a major!"

These are also the people who, when they organize something,

OH they organize it,

yet their surroundings are almost always messy.

These are the people who want to take a dance class, and then head down the hall to chemistry.

(Some days they'll want chemistry class to come first, just to mix things up a little.)

But cross stitch says to us, "Welcome. Come on in. To the land where orderly pixels and bright rainbow palettes are greeted with open arms."

Ahhhhh. So nice to be here. (Btw, I feel a new obsession coming on now that I've found such peace...)

Pixelated Joy

I found a website I love.

It is called Sprite Stitch: A video game inspired craft weblog.

Need I say more? Absolutely not.

But you know I'm gonna. :)

Their "mission statement," I guess you could call it? Well, the description written in the upper right corner of the site says:

"Sprite Stitch is a community of people dedicated to handmade arts and crafts with themes centered around the video game industry."

I love this website for several reasons, many of which I don't have words for at this hour but I can feel my appreciation for in the gut area.

I'm just very excited to make such crafts, and while I don't play Nintendo so much anymore (although I would, if I had Dr. Mario in my near vicinity) I do have fond memories of it. When I saw the Mega Man quilt on this website, I couldn't help but hope that one of my brothers will someday want to tuck their child in with such after Aunt Bailey stitches it together for him or her. (P.S. I don't think I've actually played Mega Man myself, but I've listened to its music a lot, while P, K, & R played it.)

And clearly I have plans to make such crafts for my own children. Duh. It's just that in the meantime I'd like to keep my crafty little hands occupied in service to video game loving parents by doing my part to educate future generations about all that is Mario and Luigi (and Pokemon, Zelda, Angry Birds...seriously, check this site out!).

I sent an email to several boys I know, asking for their orders (for themselves--this particular email listserv didn't include any parents of newborns) from Miss Craft herself.

I'm a little aghast that my inbox is not full of order forms at this very moment in time.

They might still be getting through the email's preliminary reading, Friedan's Mystique. You know, so we're sure not to be further perpetuating any stereotypical gender roles here of girl as crafter, boy as gamer.

That's me! Cross stitching, loud-mouthed, androgynous little blogger of yours!

Rock Chalk Baby Hawk

Even considering my current graduate school enrollment, I do endorse the following outfit choice, pictured below. HOWever. This child also has a Tigers outfit in her closet (unless it has been destroyed). JUST sayin'. (I expect to see photos of it being modeled after March Madness, P&J.)

Let the ceremonies commence!

So you know how I was telling you how sometimes my hair looks best right before I go to bed, when no one's around?

Well right now I feel like I'm ready to go to these weddings in June.

But...it's Wednesday afternoon.

Oh and if you're thinking, "Bails, you need a tan first..." well moot point. I come this white year round.

Stressed camper

Raise your hand if you cried in public today!

Daily Bailey raises her hand.

One minute I was cross stitching, reading, sipping tea, then I was wiping my eyes with brown Starbucks napkins and didn't even really care that I had an audience.

Let's just say I'm scared for my post-graduate future and I don't appreciate jokes about it. When we're talking about income, relocation, and likely doing all this on my own, I just can't bring myself to laugh about it right now.

Call me uptight, call me super sensitive, call me realistic.

Bottom line is I want this degree to get me a reliable income when I finish school, and I don't want to bend over backwards to make new friends, AGAIN. But right now I feel like I'm on the curb waiting for a bus to arrive that adheres to no specific schedule, with 37 cents in my pocket and wondering if that'll be enough for a one-way fare.

I wonder if I'd be more productive in Britain

Repeat after me:

Bailey. Is. Lazy.

Ugh.

Someone please just make me feel better and tell me that this is because I'm exhausted, mentally burnt out, and didn't exactly catch up on sleep this weekend...

Now what to do before bed? Clean? Organize? Read for class? Hmm, now there's a concept.

2 positives to leave you with:

Dibbs and I are reunited after a weekend apart. Thanks, cat sitter Kelsey!

I'm listening to "2 Become 1" by the Spice Girls. Yesss. And, yep. I have to share the video here. The song was making me happy enough, and then I went to YouTube and things got even better:

Wired nap taker seeks TBS, YouTube for late night entertainment

FYInfo:

If you lose an hour of sleep,

then take an almost two hour nap,

you might be still dinkin' around at 12:10 a.m.

Dum de dum.

It's pretty much my plan to wake up this coming Saturday, make a pot of coffee, and read in bed for a long time. I might take a shower first, just because I loooove showers. But then back to bed! Rest! Sleep!

Then when Spring Break rolls around?

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

P.S. Snow on the ground?! Really?!

Night, Friends. I've still got laundry to do. Who knows when I'll actually hit the sack tonight.

Bailey, Mary, and Kurt's Day of fun!

4 mile race? Check.

Beer before noon? Check.

2nd half of Ferris Bueller? Check.

BBQ (and more beer)? Check check.

Bowling? Check.

Sleeping like ROCKS tonight?

DUH.

I made this video really quickly with the "Magic Movie" feature on FlipShare, and chose one of their music tracks, which by the title of it I thought it would be more upbeat, but it turned out to be kind of corny. This, all in all, we thought made the video even funnier. :)

No reason you can't look good always ;)

I have had the thought across several years in my life (and am currently having it, as I am currently visible to myself in a mirror) that oftentimes my hair looks fabulous right before I go to bed.

As in, when no one is around to see it.

Drat. I'm smokin' right now. Sorry that the show's only for one, friends.

Night night. Race in t-minus 10 hours 47 minutes! Let's go team!

Instructions: Press Play. Laugh, w/ hand to your heart. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Okay the YouTube video that had me in stitches tonight (yes, I just used that phrase) has some comments underneath it that concern me. However, there are some other comments that make me think I have nothing to worry about.

Okay let me explain.

So Nick sent me this video tonight with the following comment:

"I could not stop laughing while watching this. And I couldn't help but think this might be a bit what you might be like in class..."

He was referring to my enrollment in ballet this past summer (some of you may remember if you were hanging out here at the DB this summer. If not: read on).

Okay. So this video: SO funny and adorable.

Well as I started reading the comments (calm down, I'll show you the video shortly) some people said that they think this little girl might have a neurological condition. I really hope not, and I also--you know, my medical degree speaking here--wouldn't have guessed such a thing by watching the video.

What I see below is learning.

In fact, my response to Nick was:

"i was a little better than that, but i think her outward actions represent a lot of my inner personality."

So I was pleased to see some comments that seemed to be from people who know this girl personally and reported that this is an old video and the girl dances much better today.

I'm hoping the latter set of comments mentioned are true. Because this girl just makes my heart not only sing, but dance as well. Such persistence will certainly breed strength and character for this cutie pie. Keep it up, whoever you are (P.S. I love the title of this video):

Bad student. Sleepy student. Sensitive student.

I know that several of you probably think I am often cranky, but I feel like I'm about to get pretty cranky. You know how sometimes just the thought of social interaction makes you consider faking illness so you can stay in?

I'm tired (and for the record, as long as I'm in grad school I have permission to write about that as often as I want). I feel overbooked. I have an interview tomorrow for a story that I'm excited about, but also super nervous that I'm gonna blow it. I have a test in the morning, and so far I've gotten

TWO F'S

on the pop quizzes we've had in class. But what did I do today?

I went to the nail salon with my gal pal Jessica and got a mani-pedi.

Because I needed some sort of mental break! I needed to put my feet in warm water, have someone slather lotion on my arms, to sip my coffee and chat about whatever.

So I did.

And then after a brief breather at home, it was back to school. Now I've had a shower, I'm wiped, and I think maybe I should get in bed, but I also think maybe I "should" watch TV, and oh yeah, test tomorrow.

Here's hoping for something better than an F.

Guess what came in the mail today?!

My flip camera is heeeeeeeeeeeeeeere! I'll try to work on my video taking skills...And sorry for the gross still image there, I clicked to change it but it says it might take six hours to switch. So for now you get a beautiful close up of my face. :) Oh, and let's not forget, Happy Birthday to my bro bro Riley!

There isn't exactly a great title to give this post.

So I was talking to Tomas this evening and I was also collecting my stationery into one place at the same time. It was already more or less in one place, but I was trying to confine it even more to a smaller space/make it more readily accessible.

And as we were talking, I told him how I was thinking about giving people notes on stationery more often, and then I'm not sure if it was his idea or mine or both of ours, but the idea of me giving someone a note or card every day (until I run out of stationery, or for a year, or some other determinate for an ending point...maybe indefinitely?) was discussed.

Now I have trouble committing to any sort of daily activity aside from showering, brushing my teeth, drinking coffee, playing Freecell, and generally wasting time. So this frightens me. No, seriously. Committing to little things can legitimately frighten me. I guess where the real fear lies is in me doubting if I'll ever be able to successfully commit to such things. So not so much fear of the commitment itself, but instead the possibility of me continuing to waste time, creativity, my gifts? Yeah, I think that's sounds pretty accurate.

A fear of dropping out, I guess. A fear of always quitting, or never saying "yes" because I'm afraid I'll quit eventually and I want to save people the heartache of being let down by fickle Bailey.

But I don't know. Thinkin' about the stationery thing.

What do we think, peeps? Let the readers speak! I need encouragement here! Hold me accountable! Don't let me waste my time and my life!

By reading this here blog, you guys actually already (seriously) hold me accountable to write regularly, so I would love it if you would help hold me accountable to keep things neat and organized in my surroundings, and maybe to distribute handwritten notes every day...

Sigh.

God made me the way I am according to His desires, so I shall trust Him. That's a WHOLE lot easier than trusting myself, even though I attempt to rely on my own strength a great portion of the time.

Chicks in shades, CONTINUED!

When I made my post 2 days ago, I was NOT aware that another Daily cutie was hangin' out in shades. Sooooooooooooooooooooo CUTE!!! I yuvs her!

What to NOT name your pet

I went to the grocery store tonight to get pizza and beer

(aka two of my primary food groups).

I thought about picking up a DVD, and looked at the $5.99 ones that were for sale. I thought about how stereotypically single I would appear at the checkout if on a Saturday night all I purchased was beer, pizza, and a movie, so I decided against the DVD.

Nah, just kidding! I totally would have bought a movie, but there weren't any really worth the immediate purchase.

Also, when I saw Bailey's Billion$ on the shelf, about a

DOG NAMED BAILEY*

VOICED BY JON LOVITZ

I had really had enough of the movie perusal and decided two items would be just fine, thank you.

Please don't name your dogs Bailey, people. It's such a great human name. If your dog is already named Bailey, I'll still accept you, but seriously. If you're considering Bailey for your pooch's name, just go for a walk. Eat dinner. Think it over. And come up with something else.

Ugh. *Number 2?! Really?!

Chicks in shades

Nick took this pic. It's of me and my friend Valerie in Austin, the weekend when Nick and I pulled off one of the most memorable surprises ever:

And this is my future sister-in-law Caitlin, looking like a total badass. I told her the funny thing about this pic is that she's probably not even trying to look like a badass, she's probably just that absorbed in her reading. Ya hear that, kids? Reading makes you look Hott.

Fervent slaps (not a violent kind--read on)

Let me tell you what made my day today.

I was driving home and all of a sudden I saw something that was just, ahh, delightful.

In front of an elementary school was a group of young children jumping rope.

I instantly smiled.

What you will notice about young children jumping rope is that very often they seem to struggle with getting beyond that first successful jump of the rope (if they even successfully make the first leap). The next time you witness a child jumping rope you'll know exactly what I'm talking about.

The thing that made me so happy when seeing these children today, what made them just so perfectly precious, was the fervent forward

slap

of their ropes.

Over the head, feet go up, and

slap!

The rope hits the ground in front of them.

Then moments later they are repositioning themselves, wrists bent slightly backward, ready to whip that rope forward again.

Slap!

There it goes again.

That try, try again mentality of kids...oh how quickly I give up on things!

It really makes me wonder, if I could be six again for a day, and someone put a jump rope in my hands, if I would come back to my twenties after that day willing to work harder.

Heck, if you gave me a jump rope now I'd be so freaking lazy. I'd skip, skip, skip, "Yep, I'm done, boss." And I love cardio workouts. But think about it. I don't think I know anyone in their adult age--do you?--who jumps rope as a hobby. I mean, it hurts! It's exhausting, and painful! And tedious!

Friends, when I'm in shape with an open afternoon in front of me, I will sometimes run for an hour, and love every minute of it. Even when it sort of hurts, I'm just so used to the rhythm that I keep going and it doesn't usually hurt anymore. Or it's a good hurt, at least.

But I feel that jumping rope (aside maybe from double dutch, which I would love to learn, if anyone out there wants to teach me--leave a comment!!) is really perceived as, and meant for, exercise purposes alone. By adults, anyway.

But when you're a kid, it never crosses your mind--well, it didn't cross mine--that your gym teachers are trying to teach you a skill that is maybe not fun, but good for you. When they have you run the mile, you know that's because of what they taught you in health class: it's good for you.

But I only have fond memories of jumping rope as a child. It was fun!

The piece of this that I'm happy to say I can still identify with is the downright giddy enjoyment of learning something new. When I'm in a really interesting class, I can take furious notes. I raise my hand so much in research class. When Bill Bryson tells me in A Walk in the Woods about trees literally communicating with each other to prevent the spread of disease on their limbs, I sit there saying, "That's incredible!"

I at least vaguely remember the enjoyment of learning to jump rope. I remember that feeling of success, as you're slowly but surely able to hop the rope consecutively two, three, ten, twenty times! And then it's just a matter of how long you can go without getting too tired.

"Cinderella, dressed in yella,

went upstairs to kiss a fella,

made a mi-stake!

kissed a snake!

How many doctors does it take!"

I loved that rhyming game.

The kids I saw today looked like they were trying to make the (literal) leap from one hop over the rope to two.

And they were having fun. They were learning. And doing so without a (literally) too cool for school attitude.

I could recognize that fervent hunger for reaching success, for getting to the next step that would take them to the step after that, in their fervent slaps.

As I passed in my car, I saw a man sitting diagonally across the street from the kids. I can't be certain, but he seemed to have a pleased smirk on his face while witnessing the show.

The last glimpse I had of the children was of one boy in particular. He was sitting on the pavement, untangling his rope from around his ankle. Right before I had to finally turn away and look at the road, he was on his way back to his feet. Ready to fervently slap some more, I'm sure.

I have a whole hand of good things that happened!

Umm...I'm pretty well exhausted. But several things have made me happy in the last two days.

Let's start with Callie Moore's song "Wire." Her CD Zen Garden came in the mail today and I literally ripped open the package in my car. Went straight to "Out of my Range," and then "Wire" came on next and I was like "Delicious!!! Callie Moore I love your music!" I nearly yelled such things out loud, but instead just listened to the music with great relish.

Secondly, last night I watched "Parenthood" and the episode was sooooo good!

SPOILER ALERT!:

I loved the part where Zeke held Crosby in the parking lot after he bailed him out of jail, when Crosby said that he really messed up. I also looooved when Joel took the newspaper out of Julia's hands to tell her he would never cheat on her.

Third: I did an interview for a story today and it was quite enjoyable talking to my source.

Fourth: Tonight I was treated to impromptu pizza and beer by a faculty member who I admire so much and it was so great and unexpected! I've been wanting to make this connection for months, and now it happened when I didn't see it coming! God provides.

And finally. There is a warm angel friend lying in my lap. Purrfect.

The TA Mantra

You know what you say to yourself over and over again when you're up way past your bedtime grading test after test?

"Free tuition. Free tuition. Free tuition."

:)

(I actually really like working with students, I'm finding, and even reading their test answers. It just takes a loooooooong time. I'm also totally blessed to have my schooling funded, and I recognize that for sure.)