The Pineapple Couch

Like Popeye Used to Say... I Am What I Am

2013-02-07T20:41:00.001-05:00

Why do we think God has some lofty expectations that we have to live up to? We act like if we don't follow some list of rules exactly (most of which are really just man-made traditions or doctrine), God will be angry with us and not forgive us.

But God poured out his wrath on his SON on the cross. We don't have to suffer that wrath because it was already dealt with two thousand years ago! It's history! Sometimes we act as if Jesus' death on a cross wasn't sufficient for our sin, as if what we've done is so horrible that even GOD didn't see it coming. So we try to live up to some make-believe standard that we set for ourselves because we don't deserve God's forgiveness. Guess what? WE DON'T! That's how awesome he is. He doesn't give us what we deserve, because what we deserve is eternal death.

Think about this: Why did God raise Jesus from the dead? Could it be because he was satisfied with his death as our punishment? Paul wrote to the church in Corinth, "But by the grace of God I am what I am" (1 Corinthians 15:10) The same is true for each of us who have obeyed the gospel: we are what we are, which is SAVED, by the grace of God! He promises that if we repent of our sin, no matter what it is or how horrible we think it is, he will forgive us. Because Jesus willingly got what we deserved. He took 100% of our punishment, so that God was satisfied with it as payment in full.

So quit acting like you still have work to do to somehow earn your salvation and focus instead on working hard because you are saved! You can experience a lot more joy that way!

We Knew Her When...

2013-01-27T21:40:00.002-05:00

I don't find the time to post like I used to. I miss it and I hope to get back to it soon, it's a great way to "get things off my chest" while also getting feedback from readers that often times can help me figure things out. Until I can get back to writing again, I will enjoy the writings of friends and family. I recently linked you to my daughter's blog. Today I want to point you towards Amy's writings.

Amy is an amazing woman, but I'll let you learn about her from her writings. She was recently published in Christian Woman, which totally rocks 'cause I suggested she submit an article to them about a year ago... and she did! And they published it! So now, when she becomes a world-famous author, I can say, "Yeah, I had a hand in that." Or NOT. Just kidding, I'm just so excited for her and for everything God has planned for her. Seriously, head over there and see what I mean.

I'll write again... eventually!

Answered Prayers

2013-01-18T15:17:00.000-05:00

So I've mentioned my daughter... you should learn about her first-hand:

One Woman Won By Him

She amazes me and is proof that God answers our prayers!

The Awesomeness that is my Grandson

2013-01-18T14:56:00.002-05:00

If you ever thought that nothing could compare to the love you have for your children, wait until they give you grandchildren.

We have one. His adorableness is insane and his laughter is contagious. He's one

and 3/4 years old and growing up way too fast. His name is Gabriel and he has got to be the most-loved person on the planet, I'm just sure of it.

Because of some personal setbacks in my daughter's life, she and Gabriel moved in with us last summer. It's been a tough adjustment for all of us, but he has made even the hard parts worth it. I get to come home from work every day and be greeted by his beautiful face as he runs up to me saying "Oh, hi!" with a big grin on his face. That feeling of "there's someone in the world who is genuinely excited to see me" immediately makes even rough days easier.

He looks so much like his mom, I sometimes catch myself just examining his face and being transported back in time to when I was a young mother and she was this beautiful little child. And I remember what it all felt like: the uncertainty about what kind of future I could give her, whether I was cut out to be a good mom, the bizarre feeling that my heart was no longer inside my body but now lived in her, I gain more respect for my daughter knowing that she is now experiencing all that with her son.

Thank you Lord for blessing our family with this little boy; I pray that we can be the grandparents he deserves.

Saying What Needs To Be Heard

2011-02-10T01:36:00.000-05:00

As we get older, we learn things we didn’t fully understand before and as a result we sometimes change our opinions on things. Maybe I should stick to the first-person here and stop saying “we”. Maybe I’m the only person who has ever changed their stance on a subject because I was presented with new information. Yeah, probably not. The subject I’m thinking about here is the highly controversial issue of abortion. Before you stop reading, let me say I’m not going to preach the Bible here, I’m only going to preach reality, if reality can in fact be preached.

Certainly I could write volumes based on Scripture that would drive home the point that abortion is just about the biggest lie our society believes. But I want to talk to everyone out there who doesn’t want to hear “the Bible says…”. I want to talk to everyone who just lives day-to-day, trying to do the right thing, but who doesn’t necessarily look to a deity to lead them.

I recently had a chat online with an old friend on the subject of abortion and I realized something during the conversation. The debate between pro-life and pro-choice is often argued with women’s rights and baby’s rights presented as opposite sides of the issue, as if they were mutually exclusive. When one side presents their case, the other side comes back with their point without really addressing the opposite point. A conversation might go like this:

Pro-Life: “Killing a child before they are born is still killing a child!”

Pro-Choice: “But what about the woman who was violently raped and
           became pregnant because of it? Should she be forced to either go through
           nine months of an unwanted pregnancy and all the pain and humiliation that
           goes with it or else go to some butcher to get an illegal abortion and suffer
           from multiple health problems or even death?”

Pro-Life: “Abortion is murder!”

Or sometimes the conversation goes this way:

Pro-Choice: “A woman’s body is her own and she has the right to say what is
done to it and with it.”

Pro-Life: But what about the baby’s rights as a human being? Why does the
woman’s rights trump the child’s?

Pro-Choice: “It’s nobody else’s business what she chooses, it’s her body!”

In both of these examples, we see that when the tough questions get raised, instead of addressing them, the opponent simply states his or her belief louder. This is not an argument, it’s a shouting match and it’s not getting us anywhere.

Here is what I have learned over the years of dealing with this sad topic: Abortion never helps a rape victim heal or saves her from more pain and difficulty. It only trades the trauma of rape and unwanted pregnancy for the trauma of rape and abortion. Some women suffer their loss immediately but many live in denial for years, even decades before finally seeking help for seemingly "unrelated" depression, addiction, etc. only to discover that their pain and guilt goes all the way back to that supposedly simple procedure done in a doctor's office that they had thought was behind them.

It’s only through counseling and therapy that the real underlying issue can be brought out and worked through, giving the woman a chance to heal, mourn the loss of a child, and forgive herself for what she didn’t even realize she was feeling guilty for. Unfortunately, the vast majority of women who have had an abortion never get that counseling. Either they don’t think they need it or they are too ashamed to admit to anyone what they did. Pride and shame are both very powerful and too often they keep people in a broken state instead of allowing them to heal.

The lie of abortion is two-fold: first, it is a lie that the baby isn’t really a baby. By using words like fetus, embryo or tissue, we have white-washed the reality of who we are talking about: an actual human being. Second, it is a lie that abortion “undoes” a pregnancy. There is no undo button for pregnancy, there is only taking an innocent life. Whether it is done in a back alley or a brightly lit doctor’s office, a baby is still intentionally killed. We can’t keep condoning “legal” abortion because we’re afraid that women will seek out an “unsafe” abortion instead. Do we set up places where murderers can legally kill their victims so that they won’t be tempted to kill “illegally”? Do we create special stores where it’s legal to take whatever you want without paying, so that people won’t shoplift in other stores? Of course that sounds preposterous, but is it really so different from legalized abortion? Right and wrong aren’t only found in the Bible; they are what makes a civilization civilized. And the more we keep blurring the line between right and wrong with our misguided attempts to please everyone and be politically correct, the less civilized we are becoming.

PLEASE share this post with others, you can use the buttons below to easily share it through Facebook, Twitter, email, or post it on your own blog. We need to take off the blinders and see the reality of abortion. And please feel free to share your comments and thoughts!

Why Do Bad Things Happen?

2011-01-29T15:23:00.071-05:00

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. This is what Paul wrote to the church in Rome. (Romans 8:28) Do we know this? I mean, really know it?

One time we got some "bad gas" (fuel for our van, not the other kind!) that messed up our fuel gauge. Hubby and I were on the interstate, about a mile and a half from our exit, when the needle suddenly dropped and the van stalled. We started praying that God would please get us as close as possible to the exit. We knew that even if we coasted that far, it was still at least another mile to the closest gas station and we were not dressed for a walk. Well, we kept praying and Hubby kept steering and the van kept coasting. I couldn't believe it when we made it around the bend to the exit ramp! Instead of pulling over, Hubby decided to see how far up the ramp we could coast... we kept going! The light at the top of the ramp is always red and is a couple minutes long. We didn't want to get stuck in the lane at the light, so we prayed that we could pull over, but just then the light turned GREEN! So we coasted through, somehow making the turn without any power steering and thought, "Uh oh, we're going to get stuck on the bridge that crosses the interstate." Just then, the light on the other side of the bridge turned green, so we slid through that one, too! At this point, Hubby knew we couldn't get much further and we were going pretty slow, so he was driving on the shoulder to stay out of everyone's way. Around another bend in the road and another red light. Once again, just as we approached, it turned green! The gas station was just up ahead, albeit with a steep entrance that we couldn't possibly get up at the speed we were crawling by now. Do you believe that we not only made it up that incline, but to within mere feet of the pump? I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't been there myself! This was definitely an example of answered prayer!

Why did God choose to provide what we asked for in this silly case, when so often we pray for someone's life, health, comfort, or other "legitimate" request, and he chooses to say no? This is the question that probably keeps most people from accepting God's existence. Why does he let the bad things happen? When I fell down a flight of stairs, breaking several bones and ending up in a wheelchair, I prayed for a quick recovery. I asked God to amaze my doctors with my "miraculous" healing so that I could get back to my life as soon as possible. I felt confident the day the surgeon who put my ankle back together came in to check on me. I was sure he was going to say I was healing fast and should be able to go home and get back to work in a few days. I was devastated. Three more weeks in the hospital! Two entire months confined to a wheelchair! This wasn't happening... I had prayed fervently! Why did God refuse to grant my request? It's not fair!

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." This was for my good? It all is. We have to know that, even when we don't like it. I was a new Christian when this happened. I was taught countless valuable lessons through this trial. I saw my brothers' and sisters' selflessness as they attended to my and my daughter's needs. Transportation, food, laundry, everything was taken care of. Without that experience, would I perhaps be a more selfish Christian who doesn't step forward when someone is in need? Would I not have learned the peace that comes from ceaseless prayer? What about being humble? It's hard to not be humble when other people are laundering your underwear. Is it the way I would have done it? No. But God knows what's best for me when I don't. He takes the most miserable experiences in our life and works them out for GOOD! Know that. Even when you don't feel it at the time. It all takes place in HIS time, not ours, and his plan is perfect. Thank you, Lord, for knowing what's best for me and working good out of even the worst situations!

Workin' for the Weekend

2011-01-22T12:13:00.001-05:00

I have errands to run. I haven't done my workout yet today. And that means I haven't showered yet. (Why would you shower before you work out? Duh) There is also plenty of housework going by the wayside. Yes, I am PROCRASTINATING. Man, I'm good at it. I go to bed at night with a wonderful idea of how the next day is going to work, only to wake up and think, "Meh, maybe later."

I live for my Saturdays. They are like a beacon shining in the distance that gets me through the work-week. Last night, Hubby said that while he hates to wish a day away, he was anxious for the Steelers game Sunday night. I understand that, but c'mon, of all the days you could wish away, not my Saturday! Now, don't get me wrong... Fridays are great (except for the part where I have to spend the bulk of it at the office). Yesterday I took an impulse nap when I got home from work, then we ordered Chinese and just relaxed, watching our own little Bones marathon on Netflix (my latest addiction. Read this post to see what I mean). But Saturday... sleeping in, puttering around the house, doing whatever needs done or I want to do (or not do, as is the case today), but most importantly, not having to go to the office. I really like my job, I just don't like the inflexibility of it. I've dreamed of telecommuting, but too many of my responsibilities require me to be at the office. Then again, I've dreamed of being a housewife, but I can't get anyone to pay me for it.

What is your favorite day of the week? Why? Do you struggle with procrastination on Saturdays like I do? Or am I just lazy?

And what is your dream job? Tell us about it!

An Honest Day’s Pay for An Honest Day’s Work

2011-01-16T19:10:00.004-05:00

An often-quoted Bible verse: For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 6:23)

What are wages? The money we earn for doing our job. We get paid our wages when we actively choose to perform the tasks that we were told would result in us getting paid, right? So if the wages are payment for work done, then sin is the work. It is something we actively choose to do, not something that "happens to us" or that we can't avoid. And just like the boss tells us when we start a job what our wages will be, the Bible tells us what we will earn for sin: death.

When Adam and Eve committed the first sin, God "paid them their wages". Genesis 3:22 says: And the Lord God said, "The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever." So when Adam was 930 years old, he died. God paid him his wages. When we choose to commit sin, we earn our own death. Eternal death, or what is also called the second death. (Revelation 2:11 & 20:14)

But what about the second half of that verse? "...but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." What is a gift? Something given to us out of love, without us doing anything to earn it. So even though we EARNED death, God gives us the GIFT of life! But hold on, it doesn't just say he gives us eternal life, it says he gives us eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. So what does that mean?

To be "in Christ Jesus" means when God looks at us, he's looking at us through his son, like a filter that makes us appear clean and worthy of eternal life. Without that filter, he sees us as we really are: sinful and deserving of death. We can only receive the gift of eternal life if we are in Christ Jesus, who himself said, "No one comes to the Father except through me." (John 14:6) So only those who are in Christ Jesus will get the gift of eternal life. Does that sound narrow-minded and unfair to all the billions of good people in the world who don't happen to be Christians? Maybe, but "...wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it." (Matthew 7:13-14)

So how does one get to be in Christ Jesus? The people asked Peter this in the Book of Acts, chapter 2 and he replied "Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off—for all whom the Lord our God will call." (Acts 2:38-39)

Have you repented of your sins? Have you chosen to then be baptized? A baby cannot repent his or her sins, so baptizing a baby doesn't make sense. And what is baptism anyway? The greek word, baptisma, literally means "immerse". It is immersion into the water, exactly as it was performed in the Bible. Water was not poured or sprinkled on the person... the person was immersed into it. It represents the burial and resurrection of Jesus (going into the water and then coming out). Again, pouring or sprinkling water on a person would not imitate a burial or a resurrection.

So, to sum it all up: For the wages (what we earn) of sin is death (eternity away from God, in hell), but the gift (undeserved and freely given) of God is eternal life (eternity with God in heaven) in Christ Jesus our Lord (having repented and been baptized). In other words, we deserve to spend eternity in hell, but God will let us spend it with him in heaven, as long as we are faithful Christians.

Like Thor Ramsey Once Said, "It's Barely Freezing!"

2011-01-13T19:40:00.002-05:00

Reason #36 why I question my sanity: I live in Northwestern Pennsylvania where the weatherman sounded like he was giving us good news when he said, "Tomorrow, we'll have highs near 25!" Oh, how can I possibly contain my excitement.

Going to the mail box... brb.

At least, I think it's Reason #36... or is #36 the one where I thought adopting a friend's cat as a favor would actually work out and our cats would become friends? Hmmm... I know numbers 1 through 35 are particular dreams that I've had that make me question my sanity. I know that when I share these dreams with others, they also question my sanity, so I've learned to keep them to myself. Anyway...

We've got about a kabillion inches of snow and it won't quit. Seriously. Even when you think it quit, if you look closely you can see it's still snowing a little tiny bit, as if the sky was a leaky faucet you can't shut off completely. I have one of those in our shower, so I know what I'm talking about. Yeah, I'm like a leaky faucet expert. Oops, lost my train of thought again. Snow, cold, winter, miserable, yeah that's what we were talking about.

I've lived in this area all but two years of my life and every winter I wish I lived somewhere warmer. Those two years I didn't live here? Yeah, I lived in ROCHESTER NEW YORK. Guess I wasn't satisfied with the lake effect snow we get here, so I moved to Rochester. Duh. I read recently that some scientists compiled a bunch of data over a lot of years (real technical stuff) and came up with a list of the snowiest (on average) cities in the U.S. Erie, PA was number 6. Rochester was number 3. Good choice there, Jules. Of course, the numbers this season show that Erie is actually having a pretty light year so far with only 29 inches, compared to Rochester's 52.5. Okay, Northwestern PA is starting to look pretty good. And for anyone that cares, based on this season's numbers alone, Rochester is still holding firm to their #3 spot but Erie has dropped down to #11! But that still leaves about a million other cities I could move to that have less snow! (Zero inches works for me)

I'll probably grow old and die here. Of hypothermia. In the meantime, if you'd like to read more of my Adventures in Winter Wonderland, go here.

Eight Days a Week, That Might Be Enough

2011-01-12T22:21:00.001-05:00

The other day, I posted my Facebook status as: "Sometimes I wonder if I expect too much of myself or I'm just not pushing myself hard enough... tonight I didn't do 70% of what I set out to do & I'm exhausted!" It was just the way I was feeling at the time (and many times before and after that moment), but I've been thinking about it ever since. Which is it?

See, I'm out of shape, so I really want to exercise and lose some weight. I also really enjoy writing this little blog and would like to spend more time on it. Those two things don't sound like too much to take on, maybe an hour a day for each? But here's the thing: I have a full-time job that enables us to do things like eat and pay the mortgage and other slightly important stuff. So that takes up my time (including time for showering, dressing, commuting, etc) from 7 in the morning until 5 at night. My lunch hour is actually only half an hour and half the time I don't take one anyway. I'm married and have three step-kids, although they're only with us a few days a week. The kids, I mean. Hubby has agreed to live with me full-time. Anyway, I still have to prepare meals (and yes, he helps) and clean house and do laundry and go to the grocery store and get the oil changed and... you get the idea. So trying to find an hour a day to exercise and an hour a day to blog doesn't sound so simple anymore. I should also mention that I require at least seven hours of sleep, my body and brain do not function with less.

What's the answer? How do you handle this problem in your own life? I'm looking for advice!

2011 is Off and Running! I'm Just Trying to Keep Up!

2011-01-05T15:52:00.001-05:00

Wow, it’s been a crazy busy week and it doesn’t look like it’s going to slow down for the next few days. I’ve been wanting to post but just haven’t had the time to dedicate to it. So this is my “write a sentence whenever I get a chance” post. In other words, it probably won’t make any sense.

So, those New Year’s resolutions… how are you doing on yours? I’m weaning myself off the diet Coke, not as fast as I first intended, but I’m hoping that by making it as “painless” as possible I won’t fall off the wagon so easily. My replacements for it are water and unsweetened iced tea. Anybody have any other (healthy) suggestions? I’ve never been one to just drink a glass of milk, it just doesn’t appeal to me, and obviously substituting the diet Coke with a sugary drink would just be trading one problem for another. People have suggested flavoring my water with anything from fruit slices to Crystal Light, but I actually prefer plain water to flavored water for some reason. So what else does that leave? Wine! Just kidding!

Another resolution of mine is the typical weight-loss resolution. I got the P90X DVDs from a friend and intended to start them on Monday. Then I woke up that morning with my back is major spasm and spent the day at home on muscle relaxers and pain pills. So Tuesday was going to be Day One… until I ended up working late and then having to do the grocery shopping and dinner. By the time I got finally home, it was almost time for bed! I knew today was out of the question before it even started… straight from work to an eye exam to the first night of our Ladies’ Bible study. I don’t even see eating happening anywhere in there, let alone exercising. So let’s aim for tomorrow, eh? I’m past due for an oil change and almost made an appointment to get it done after work tomorrow but I stopped myself: “No! The car can go another day or two without the oil change; if I put off starting this P90X, it’ll never get done!” So tomorrow it is. I’m gonna be in soooo much pain on Friday.

My final resolution was to fix a broken relationship. I won’t go into details but I am working on it and I think the other person might be, too. Either that or I’m just wearing them down! I’ve tried to fix it a few times before and whenever I’d see a glimmer of hope, Hubby would tell me not to get my hopes up. At the time I thought he was just being pessimistic, but after repeated episodes of “I think they’re coming around” being followed by “I can’t believe they just said/did that to me”, I saw that he was just trying to be realistic because he didn’t want to see me get hurt again. This has gone on for the better part of 2010 and my goal is to not have it be a part of 2011!

So that’s my resolution update… how are yours going? Let me know!!!

Why Firestarter Was the Scariest Movie of My Childhood... I've Never Trusted Drew Barrymore Since

2011-01-02T01:55:00.003-05:00

I think my brother is a pyromaniac. Of course, I’m basing this on three separate incidents from childhood and have no recent occurrences to back up the claim, but I’m sure it’s true anyway.

The first related memory I have of this is standing in our kitchen with my brother sitting at the table playing with our mom’s cigarette lighter. I was very small and the memory has faded, but I do know that it ended with my bangs significantly shorter, the smell of burnt hair in the air, and Big Bro saying, “Don’t tell Mom.”

The other incidents are clearer in my mind. The first was at Christmas and we were decorating the tree. This was the seventies, so we didn’t have pre-lit trees and anyway, we were still using real trees. Maybe someday God will start making pre-lit real trees, but in those days, we had to string the lights on the tree ourselves. Now that I’m writing this, I’m beginning to realize that it’s a wonder that house is still standing... But I digress. Now, everyone knows you need to test the lights before putting them on the tree. But not everyone (at least not Big Bro) knew that you need to test them somewhere other than on top of the highly flammable tree skirt. Then again, if he is a pyromaniac, maybe it was all part of his evil plan???

Long story short, one of the bulbs blew when he plugged them in and it immediately caught the tree skirt on fire. Dad was in the den, Mom was in the kitchen, and Big Bro and I were frantically stomping in the living room as quietly as possible, giggling as if setting our house on fire was actually funny. I seem to recall another sibling in the dining room who probably witnessed the event. If so, would you please step forward and confirm this? You can remain anonymous (there are nine of us kids, so remaining anonymous in our family is actually plausible).

These two events seemed to me to be completely unrelated until I suddenly remembered The School Project. Being several years younger than Big Bro, I don’t recall what class this project was for, or if it even was a legitimate project or just an excuse to do random dangerously stupid stuff and catch it all on film. I know that this is a daily occurrence for teenagers today but back then, there were no cell phones and the average family didn’t own a video camera. So most of the dangerously stupid things teenagers did could only be recorded in our memories, not on film. But I remember Big Bro and his friends, one of whom had a camera, putting together some sort of film that I never saw but got to witness parts of it in action. And what I witnessed was them setting one of our old outbuildings on fire and then putting it out with snow. I vaguely remember those old sheds. They weren’t really buildings, but some sort of giant storage crates that Dad turned into little rabbit hotels. Lots of chicken wire cages filled with bunnies that I used to let out when no one was looking because I felt they needed to run free. Well, the bunnies were gone by this time and the sheds were just sitting there slowing falling into ruin. So they burned one down. I don’t even know if they had permission to do it. I’m gonna give them the benefit of the doubt on that part.

And there you have it; case closed. Big Bro was a pyromaniac in his youth. He now lives in a lovely home with his lovely wife and hasn’t burned it down yet, so I guess he got better. Or maybe he just got smarter about what he sets ablaze...

P.S. If you know my brother and have any other related incidents, please let me know... maybe it’s not too late for an intervention!

P.P.S. Still working on getting the html fixed for my comments section but with being a holiday weekend, it’s slow going... but don’t let that deter you from leaving your comments! I’m still getting them, even if they don’t show up on the blog right now. Happy New Year!

Fan Appreciation Contest: Win A Flip Video Camera!

2010-12-31T11:07:00.002-05:00

I love CouponDivas.com... she really is in it for the SAVINGS! I love going shopping and paying a small fraction of what I would normally have paid if I didn't read her emails every day. Thanks Kitty!

Now here she is, giving away a free Flip Video Camera, isn't she sweet? Our niece and her husband got one for Christmas and I was blown away by the picture quality! So now I want one... but you should enter the contest, too!

Fan Appreciation Contest: Win A Flip Video Camera!

Happy New Year!
Jules

Auld Lang Syne! (I don't even know what that means...)

2010-12-30T16:02:00.001-05:00

As another year closes, we start to focus on what we’re going to do better next year. Have you made any New Year’s resolutions this year? I never used to make them, but this year it’s been on my mind. Of course, my main resolution is the same one I have on a daily basis: lose weight! And then the day actually starts and my resolve flies right out the window. Curse you, sweet tooth and laziness!

Another resolution I have made in previous years and still haven’t conquered is my “coke addiction”. Technically, it’s DIET coke and no, I don’t snort it... I guzzle it! I know what’s in it and how bad it is for me yet I still reach for it every day. The aspartame could very well be the cause of my migraine-like headaches, and I know the phosphoric acid is most likely leeching the calcium from my bones. I’m also aware of the various studies and rumors about potassium benzoate, so maybe this year I’ll finally say ENOUGH OF BEING STUPID and successfully quit the stuff?

I think I’m also going to make a resolution to be The Most Awesomest Grandma Ever! But since my first grandchild won’t even be born until April, I guess we’ll have to wait to see how I make out on that one...

So what resolutions are you considering this year? Please leave comments and tell us how you’re going to do better in 2011!

I Knew What I Was Doing, Right Up Until You Asked Me.

2010-12-29T21:54:00.002-05:00

How can one person be both a loud, opinionated know-it-all AND an insecure people-pleaser at the same time? How is it that I am both a knowledgeable employee to whom people go when they have a question about anything at the office AND a flutter-brain who can’t seem to perform her day-to-day tasks the same way twice? How do I manage to retain so much information in my head yet become so easily overwhelmed when asked a question or presented with a project?

And while I’m at it, why do I waver between feeling under-appreciated and feeling like someday they’re all going to figure out that I’m basically a useless imposter and there are zillions of more qualified people who would like my job? Why do some people like me and others hate me?

I suppose everyone has similar insecurities. Anyone will tell you that they do, but I still find myself doubting it. I look at other people and think, “They seem like they know who they are and they’re confident in their abilities… AND in their shortcomings.” Wait, confident in their shortcomings? I guess I mean they know their limitations and their aptitudes and the definite line between the two. “I can do this and I can’t do that.” I seem to question my ability to do even the stuff I can do. Am I alone in this? Am I even making any sense?

I wish that for one day, I could step outside of myself and see me the way other people see me. Then again, that’s a scary thought... what if I don’t like what I see? Maybe I better just stay inside my own head where it’s safe. I just need to come to terms with my flaws and keep telling myself that everyone else has theirs, too. Even if they do all seem more comfortable in their own skin. What do YOU think? Am I alone in this or is it normal?

Does IT really stand for Irritability Target, or is it just me?

2010-12-23T17:11:00.011-05:00

I don’t have a degree in any type of computer science or programming, or anything closely related to the field. I have, however, always sought to learn the basics of how computers work: a little on the hardware side, a little on the software side... a little knowledge really is a dangerous thing, especially since it has invariably landed me in the position of “go-to” person for anything computer-related just about anywhere I’ve ever worked. The main problems with this are:

1. I am not a computer EXPERT. I may or may not be able to solve your problem.

2. You came to me for help with your computer problem and I didn’t know the fix, and now the problem has become MINE to deal with.

3. The combination of my people-pleaser tendencies and my rampant insecurities make me completely unable to NOT take on your computer problem as my responsibility.

4. A while back, my boss actually made it official that ALL computer-related issues go to me and I deal with the various help desks and IT consultants alone. Because I “know something about computers”. Ugh.

I’ve had conversations about this with a few of my friends who happen to be IT people, two who are consultants and therefore deal with numerous different clients and one who manages the IT department for an entire hospital. They all say the same basic things. I need to get out! No, they don’t actually say that, but that’s what I infer from all the things they do tell me...

Well, never mind. I’ll leave it up to all the poor souls out there who have to deal with the job day in and day out to “fill in the blanks” with their war stories. But I’d like to end with a few of my favorite quotes concerning computers and their users. Enjoy!

"I have always wished for my computer to be as easy to use as my telephone; my wish has come true because I can no longer figure out how to use my telephone." - Bjarne Stroustrup

“The trouble with programmers is that you can never tell what a programmer is doing until it’s too late.” - Seymour Cray

"If at first you don't succeed; call it version 1.0"

"Failure is not an option -- it comes bundled with Windows."

"If you give someone a program, you will frustrate them for a day; if you teach them how to program, you will frustrate them for a lifetime."

"My software never has bugs. It just develops random features."

"The only problem with troubleshooting is that sometimes trouble shoots back."

Sticks & Stones May Break My Bones, but 12 Steps and a Concrete Floor Will DEFINITELY Do the Trick!

2010-12-22T13:10:00.003-05:00

One morning at work nine years ago, I left my second floor office to head downstairs. About two or three steps down, I slipped and fell the rest of the flight, breaking my ankle, toe and shoulder and tearing my rotator cuff. What had started as a typical day at work became a life-changing event. I don’t mean to say it has changed my life in a physical way; my doctors expected a full recovery and other than some minor limitations, I'm back to normal. But spiritually, I learned so many lessons that I most certainly did not come out the other end of this experience the same person I went in as.


Only photo I could find from that year	.

I remember that the first thing I felt as I slipped was regret. To this day, I don’t know what I was regretting, maybe the poor choice of foot placement? I mention this because it was such an odd emotion to have as you are tumbling down a flight of stairs. I would have assumed fear would be natural, but regret? Of course, once I got to the bottom, the pain took over as my entire right side felt like it was on fire.

Once I was secured into the ambulance and on my way to the hospital, I started praying and focusing on my prayers in order to endure the pain. I actually got a little annoyed with the paramedic who kept asking me questions while I was repeating the Lord’s Prayer so that I had to keep starting over. I was praying out loud, didn’t he realize he was interrupting? Once I was at the hospital and diagnosed, x-rayed, drugged, and everything else they did to me, I was taken to surgery to put my ankle back together with screws. This scared me most of all. Broken bones were supposed to be put into casts, not operated on; this was not on my To Do List for the day! But little did I know that I was on my way to learning what I thought I already knew. I guess I did already know these lessons, I just hadn’t had to put them into practice yet and God knew that I needed some hands-on training. It’s one thing to be able to list the responsibilities, expectations, and aspects of being a Christian; it’s something else entirely to live them on a daily basis.

My first realization of what God was teaching me came a few nights later. I had been moved to a rehabilitation hospital, where I would spend the next few weeks. As I was writing a letter to my brother, I suddenly saw what God wanted me to understand. I had just been baptized two months earlier, I was only a baby Christian. I had been studying the Bible on my own, searching for something for quite a while, and then started studying with a local preacher. During this time, I had learned that part of being a member of Christ’s church is service. But as of yet, I hadn’t really helped anyone. Sure, I had done some baking for events, things like that, but what had I actually done? What was there that needed to be done? If someone had asked me that question, I'm not sure I could have come up with an answer.

So God showed me an answer: Do whatever needs doing. Within hours of my accident, my new brothers and sisters in Christ came to my aid in every way imaginable, and many ways I never would have imagined. Of course, I received tons of get-well cards, phone calls, and visits. But they were also taking turns driving my daughter to and from school, taking my car to the garage, doing my laundry, inviting me to come stay with them once I was released from the hospital, bringing me items that I hadn’t asked for but they knew I would need. It was so overwhelming! While I sat there that night, writing to my brother, it hit me that God wanted me to receive all this love, support, and kindness, so that I would know what to do later for someone else! Prior to this, I would have thought sending a card was all I could do for someone who is ill or injured. But Jesus didn’t send cards. He did for others whatever needed done. By the time I finished writing that letter, I was sobbing. What I didn’t know then was how many more lessons God was teaching me through this. But over the next few weeks, my eyes kept opening wider and wider to His plan.

The next lesson I learned was probably the hardest, and one I still struggle with: humility. I was an independent person. At the time, I was a single mother with a career, and no one to turn to when it was time to pay the bills or make important decisions. And I liked it that way. I just didn’t realize how prideful that attitude is until I was forced to give it up. It’s hard to humble yourself in any situation, but I was in a situation where I simply didn’t have a choice. If I didn’t let these wonderful people do things for me, nothing was going to get done. My child wouldn’t get to school, my laundry wouldn’t get washed, and I wouldn’t have a ride to my doctor’s appointments. It was time to get over myself. Seeing my new family doing these things for me also humbled me in another way: it showed me how much I had to grow as a Christian. They weren’t even hesitating; they were just jumping in with both feet to get the work done. That’s pretty humbling to see how self-involved I had been; things had to fit into my schedule in order for me to do them.

During these weeks, another lesson kept coming back to me. I had a strong faith in the Lord, but at no other time had I had to rely on that faith as often. I read the book of Job again and this time it meant so much more to me. I was able to relate to Job in a way I hadn’t before. It is so easy to stay faithful to God when His blessings are abundant and obvious, but what about when the rug gets pulled out from under us? I had been basking is His glory, receiving His blessings and praising Him. Now I was faced with that difficult question of WHY. Why was I suffering in pain, unable to walk, go to work, or go anywhere for that matter? I had to turn it over to Him, reminding myself that He is in control and that someday I may or may not be able to see His plan in all this, but that regardless, He had a plan, and I was just along for the ride. Nothing I could do could possibly improve my situation, and if I forced my will I’d be sure to make things worse anyway.

This leads me to the next lesson I was learning: patience. I prayed several times a day, asking God to heal me and let me get back to my life and my responsibilities. And I was always careful to add “Your will be done”. I thought I was submitting myself to that until the day of my first follow-up with my surgeon. I woke up that day full of hope and high expectations that the doctor would be dumbfounded by my rapid improvement and decrease his estimate of how long I’d be out of work by at least a week or two. I started the day with an MRI to determine the amount of damage to my shoulder. X-rays the day of the accident didn’t show any breaks, so we assumed we were dealing with the rotator cuff injury alone. I wasn’t going to receive the results of that test until the next day, so I was off to the doctor. There was no dumbfounded look, no accelerated recovery. In fact, he moved it back another two weeks! I was crushed; I had prayed so much! Then the next day, the MRI results came in and I was told that not only was the rotator cuff torn, as we expected, but I had also broken my arm near the shoulder. They immediately immobilized the arm by strapping it to my side. I had just spent the previous week in rehab learning how to use crutches safely with a bad shoulder. Now I was stuck in a wheelchair full-time. I couldn’t stop crying; again I asked why. And it hit me: patience. Deep down, I was hoping and actually expecting that “His will” was really my will. And it obviously wasn’t. In His time, not mine. Another reminder that I cannot be in control of my life and live the life God wants for me, and why would I want to? His plan for me is so much better than anything I could come up with on my own! Which leads to the fifth lesson I learned from this accident: appreciation.

When you think of all the blessings you have received from the Lord, what is on your list? Jesus, of course, and love, family, your job, food and so on. But do we ever remember to thank Him for the ability to walk? To cook a meal without assistance? So many things we take for granted that never make that list of blessings, not because we don’t think of them as blessings, but simply because we don’t think of them at all. It’s a blessing that I am able to drive myself to an appointment or to put my hair up with ease. I suddenly found myself reliant on others to drive me everywhere, and I had to leave my hair down all the time because I couldn’t lift my right arm. When you forget something in the other room, it’s a nuisance. But when you're in a wheelchair and forget something in the other room, it’s an ordeal! All these things are from the Lord, not us. And He didn’t take away my blessings. I feel completely blessed with so many other things I hadn’t thought about before, and I have a new blessing: that I am able to appreciate all the things I used to do and would someday do again. I sat in the physical therapy gym at the hospital and watched other patients doing their exercises. Many had had an arm or leg amputated. They will never have them again; mine were only broken and would heal. What an incredible blessing that is!

The final lesson that comes to mind from my experience brings all of them together into one very important package: influence. I’ve always asked God to use me in the lives of others, to bring them to Christ, but then I wonder what I would say to someone who asked me questions. Would I freeze under pressure? Say something stupid that discourages them? If I felt they wanted to talk, but didn’t know how to ask, what would I say? Then I received an email from a friend in New Jersey.

Valerie and I had never met, but were internet pen pals. We had met in a Christian chat room several months prior, while I was still searching for what I was missing. Valerie’s husband is a Lutheran minister, and as a preacher’s wife, she was able to answer many of my endless questions about the Bible, Jesus, and Christianity with patience and understanding. When I got out of the hospital, I emailed her to let her know what had happened and how everyone in the church was helping me so much. Valerie wrote back that she was truly inspired by my story. She explained that as a wife, mother, and employee, she got caught up in her responsibilities and didn’t realize how much she had slipped out of serving others until she read my email. Hearing how the church was coming to my aid, she resolved to get back into serving her congregation, really serving them. She mentioned a woman whose mother had just died. Valerie said she had hugged the woman and gave her condolences, but she now saw how much more she could have done. She said she was going to see her the next day and do something, anything, for her. Who would have guessed that a two-month-old Christian could have influenced a life-long believer and minister’s wife? And all I had to do was share my story. God is good!

So many people in my life asked me about my faith after my accident, and the biggest reason is that they could see that I was constantly surrounded by my brothers and sisters who were showing unending love. If seeing that could be a positive influence on any of my coworkers, family members, or friends, then falling down those stairs was the best thing that ever happened! How easy it is to feel sorry for ourselves and question why God let something happen. But we must have faith in Him, patience to wait for His answers, appreciation for everything He has given us, and open ourselves to let Him do His work. By serving others, we are serving the Lord, and He rewards us greatly, if we just open our eyes to see it.

Parlez Vous Statesmahn?

2010-12-13T20:46:00.004-05:00

A long time ago in a land faraway... Well, how about 1989 in Canada? Way before cell phones. Waaaayy before Hubby. It was a great opportunity: a drum corps competition in Quebec City. Before this, our jaunts into Canada had been limited to Ontario, which really isn't much different from New York. Well, except for Niagara Falls... that place is just weird. But I'm getting off topic. So, the Empire Statesmen had our first competition in a French-speaking city. The entire show was announced in French. We actually won both the all-over competition and many of the caption awards (colorguard, horn line, drum line, etc.) but since none of us were fluent in French-Canadian, we didn't have a clue what we were winning. All we heard was "Blahblahblahblahblah, zee Em-pahre StatesMAHN!" And we'd accept the trophy. Then a bunch more "blahblahblahblah" followed by "zee Em-pahre StatesMAHN!" And another trophy. It was pretty funny; we'd just keep saluting, then quietly asking each other, "what'd we win?" Nobody knew.

So after the show, we headed out to the parking lot to load the buses. Another corps in the show was from our hometown, Erie. I used to march with them, as did my at-the-time-boyfriend. Let's call him Melvin, because the name Melvin makes me giggle and that way he can't get angry at me for blogging about him. Because I'm not; I'm blogging about Melvin. Well, Melvin apparently wanted to visit with all our old friends from the other drum corps so instead of heading to OUR buses, he went to theirs first. As we all got settled into our seats (Melvin and I had been sitting in the very back of the bus), I realized he wasn't there, so I started yelling up to the front that Melvin wasn't on board. But one of the horn players, John, assured me that Melvin was in the very front, talking with the bus driver. I believed him and took advantage of having the seat to myself while we pulled away from the stadium.

Meanwhile, the Erie corps' buses were also getting ready to pull out, so Melvin (I'm still giggling every time I type that name) said his goodbyes and headed back to where our buses had been parked. And found NO buses. He did find some policemen and asked them to help him get to the school where we were staying the night on the gym floor. (If you're not familiar with drum corps, having a gym floor to crash on is considered a luxury. Normally, we'd be sleeping on the bus) Unfortunately, Melvin couldn't remember the name of the school. Even more unfortunately, the policemen didn't speak English anyway. For a while, he thought they did understand, as they had him get in the backseat of their cruiser and they headed out. But soon reality hit as he spent the entire night in that backseat, repeatedly trying to communicate with two French-Canadian policemen who kept wanting to take him to the Y.

When our buses pulled up to the school and we unloaded, I quickly realized that John didn't know what he was talking about... Melvin wasn't anywhere to be found. I pushed my way through the mass of zombie-like performers who just wanted to find their sleeping bag and crash and sought out anyone and everyone who might be able to help me. But all the powers-that-be assured me that if Melvin had been with the Erie corps, he certainly must have hitched a ride with them. They didn't seem to care that while this would get him safely out of Canada, it would put him in Pennsylvania, and we lived in New York. Then again, those powers- that-be were probably just as tired as everyone else and figured, "Eh, he's a big boy. He can take care of himself." Of course, I was the doting girlfriend with no one who was willing or able to take me back to the stadium to find my poor, lost boyfriend. So I collapsed onto my sleeping bag and fell asleep. What else could I do?

And Melvin spent the entire night riding around Quebec City in the backseat of a police cruiser. At dawn, he finally spotted the restaurant we had eaten dinner at the night before and knew they were close to the school. He got them to stop when he recognized one of our drummers' car. As we were groggily waking up and packing up our stuff, Melvin came into the gym. I was so confused; I seriously figured he was on his way to Pennsylvania! He wasn't confused; he was furious with me. Somehow, his getting left behind and having to spend the night in the back of a cop car was MY FAULT. He didn't believe my story that John had said he was sitting up front. He didn't believe that I tried to get someone to go back for him. He believed that I knowingly allowed the bus driver to leave without him, I didn't care where he was, and I apparently only wanted to get his prime spot on the gym floor. Or something like that.

Now, twenty-one years later, I find it pretty darn amusing. And if you ask Melvin, he still thinks I did it on purpose.

NOTE: In the picture above, I'm the one on the ground. If I tried to hit that pose now, it would be followed by "I'VE FALLEN AND I CAN'T GET UP!"

Don't Try Anything You're About to See Us Do At Home

2010-12-11T22:27:00.002-05:00

I'm totally addicted to Mythbusters lately... I get stuck on a particular program, so I'll watch all the available seasons of it on Netflix or DVD until I'm all caught up, then I get completely burned out and can't watch TV for weeks. Then I'll sit down and seek out my next TV addiction. In the past few years, I've done it with Charmed, Supernatural, Big Bang Theory, most recently Cake Boss, and now Mythbusters. I rarely sit down to watch a show on it's given night; mostly because I don't remember to and anyway Hubby controls the TV viewing in our house. Except for the rare occasions when both elements are in play: I want to watch TV AND Hubby is not already watching TV. Sometimes I'll sit down and watch whatever he is watching, but I can't take too many televised sports or shows with names made up of a bunch of letters. OK, as soon as I typed that I realized that ALL shows have names that are made up of a bunch of letters. Well, except for 24. And yeah, he used to watch that one, too.

One show that I do try to watch every week is Chuck, but I do intend, once this season is over, to go back and start watching it from season one again. Those were the episodes when Hubby and I seemed to think the show's name was "Steve", not "Chuck". Never did figure out why we both got that impression and couldn't seem to get it right.

I don't know why I enjoy watching entire series episode-by-episode better than just watching "whatever's on TV". I'm sure my family gets annoyed with it: "Oh, look... Mythbusters is on. Again. Yay." Well, except for our oldest who does the same thing with her own preferred shows. In fact, she's the one that got me stuck on Cake Boss. I was so disappointed to find there were only two seasons of it so far! I'm told there's another show like it but Netflix doesn't have it. Sad face. I think I need to get out more.

I'm Beginning to Think Sugar Might Be the Devil in Disguise

2010-12-05T16:42:00.002-05:00

I've known for a long time that I needed to kick the sugar habit. It's been my downfall in every attempt I've made to lose weight. The cravings are insane when I try to quit eating it. And if there was one thing I could rely on, it was that the sugar would pretend to be my friend to lure me back. Until now. I've been telling myself I needed to kick the sugar habit once again the past few months and even got a book about it a while back (apparently just owning the book doesn't help; supposedly I have to read it, too). But before I took the time to try to once again get off sugar, sugar decided to stop pretending to be my friend and just showed its ugly face to me. First there was the Butterfinger Bomb that went off in my car. First lesson learned: if the Butterfingers are on sale, there's a REASON. Like they're old or broken or potentially lethal. But I found one in the display that felt solid and unbroken. However, a few minutes later while driving down the road, I opened the wrapper and was immediately blasted by Butterfinger shrapnel everywhere. It seriously was like a grenade went off while I was driving. So I couldn't do anything about it but continue driving while covered in what used to be a Butterfinger but was now just a gory, chocolatey mess. I had taken my gloves off to open it and later found bits of disintegrated candy waaay down in the tips of the fingers. Ewww! And Ow! because tiny little pieces of Butterfinger shrapnel are SHARP!

Well, since I ended up wearing that sugar-fix instead of eating it, I felt justified in eating a HUGE bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream later that night. But the evil sugar was not done tormenting me. I spent an hour on the floor of the bathroom, writhing in digestive pain and wishing I could take back that bowl of ice cream. Like how someone who drank too much wishes they could take back the last four beers... as they're on the bathroom floor trying to strike a deal with God to just PLEASE MAKE IT STOP. I told myself that was it: no more ice cream. Until about a week later when I impulsively tried some at Coldstone Creamery. After a few spoonfuls I could feel the uneasiness starting, so I called it quits. I think that ice cream is now only a pleasant memory for me. This makes me sad. But better to be sad than be stuck in the bathroom in pain.

I still have all the OTHER sources of sugar to overcome, but I picked up that book that I had never gotten around to reading and I hope will help me in this. It's called The Sugar Addict's Total Recovery Program. It's seven steps. I'm on step one. Slow and steady wins the race, right? Step one is eating breakfast with protein every single day, so I'm making a couple eggs every morning. The premise behind the program is that sugar addiction is at least exacerbated, if not caused, by a combination of chemical imbalances that include low serotonin. Protein is needed for the body to produce serotonin, hence step one. Stayed tuned to see how this goes!

What is Gratitude?

2010-11-24T14:57:00.001-05:00

Wish I could take credit for this post, but it's not mine. Written just in time for Thanksgiving by a great author, Tommy Newberry.

Please read Genuine Gratitude

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

The Finger is Mightier than the Crowbar

2010-11-23T12:15:00.002-05:00

I love this story out of our local paper today... just a regular guy standing up for himself and his store. Go you, Michael Allgeier!

http://www.goerie.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20101123/NEWS02/311229922

Have a great day everyone!
Jules

Woman Barely Escapes Testosterone Overload

2010-11-20T16:00:00.002-05:00

My home had been overtaken by teenage boys. The girls heard them coming and scattered, but I had to play hostess. Luckily, that simply consisted of buying enough soda and chips to feed a small country, and making sure that anything I didn't want broken or smeared with chocolate icing was safely put away. Then I just gave them the following items:

1. A football (ONLY when outside) This, of course, ended up stuck in a pine tree. More than once.

2. Small squishy football (because I knew that eventually they were going to be throwing SOMETHING around inside the house) We learned that bouncing it off each other's head apparently NEVER STOPS BEING FUNNY.

3. PS2 with Madden Football (borrowed from a friend because we're not above mooching)

4. A couple bags of balloons (Steelers black & gold of course) for them to get "inventive" with.

Okay, that last one wasn't really planned, but just sort of turned out that way. Put some balloons in the hands of a slew of guys running on pure adrenaline, testosterone, and sugar... and stand back.

But sitting there observing them, it occurred to me... why in the world did these creatures scare me 25 years ago? When I was a teenage girl, there were only a handful of guys that I truly felt comfortable to hang around with. Anyway, so other than the crew that I hung out with, guys were like foreigners from a strange country with different customs and their own language. But now it's so easy to sit around my house with all the boys laughing and cracking jokes, pulling pranks on each other. In many ways, it's more comfortable than when I have a houseful of girls. Not that I don't enjoy hanging with the girls, too, but some of them just make you feel like they're probably mocking you when your back is turned and saying nasty things about you when you leave the room. Or maybe that's just my leftover insecurities from high school... but guys are just... guys. Take 'em at face value and they'll do the same with you. Why couldn't I see that when I was a teenager?

Now, I do have to say that I'm glad I don't have all boys all the time. I've wondered how my friends who have just boys handle all that... manliness 24/7. We have two boys, two girls... a nice balance. The girls give the boys enough practice to know how interact with the opposite sex, and the boys keep the girls from thinking they're "all that". It all works out.

So it's all good. Although next time we have a houseful of teenage boys, I might go to the mall with the girls.

Come Any Closer and I'll Beat the DUST Outta You!

2010-11-19T21:04:00.005-05:00

Shortly after graduating from high school, I moved to Rochester, New York and rented a room from a woman with two kids who marched in the drum corps with me. Ann-Marie and Jimmy were still in high school, about 16 and 17 years old I think. I was working second shift so I was still at home when Ann-Marie and her friend Jennifer would get out of school. Her brother worked right after school, so it would just be the girls until the mom came home from work a few hours later, which was about the time I left for my job.

So here’s the scene: Ann-Marie and Jennifer are sitting at the dining room table doing their homework. I’m just puttering around the house until it’s time to go to work. Suddenly there’s a huge CRASH in the basement. We all stop what we’re doing and stare at each other until someone suggests it must have been the cat. This sounds plausible, so we all go back to what we were doing until Jennifer says, “Umm, the cat’s sleeping on the chair next to me.” In case you’ve never been a teenage girl or spent any time with a teenage girl, let me tell you that we can go from zero to PANIC in about point four-two seconds. It’s called Drama, and nobody does it better than three teenage girls home alone!

Of course, Drama dictates that the only other plausible cause for the noise in the basement was a serial killer/rapist or Freddy Krueger. We need to get out of the house now! But wait, that’s not good enough for Drama; instead, we need to INVESTIGATE first. We tiptoe towards the basement door, single file so that Freddy the serial killer/rapist doesn’t have to tackle us all at once but can take us down one at a time in a nice orderly fashion. Since it was Ann-Marie’s house, we were fine with letting her go first. Yeah, I know I was a couple years older and should have taken charge but c’mon, we’re talking about a serial killer/rapist and/or undead child murderer! Wait, we need weapons to defend ourselves, so as we creep through the kitchen, still in single file, Ann-Marie starts grabbing potential weapons and handing them back to Jennifer, who hands them to me. Let me tell you, by the time six weapons had been acquired, Ann-Marie had two big kitchen knives, Jennifer had two smaller-but-still-potentially-lethal knives, and I had a wooden spoon and a rug beater. I am NOT making this up. Maybe I should have taken the lead. At least then I would have had first pick of weapons and been able to do more than just give the guy a headache.

Well, the decision to check out the basement flew right out the front door when there was another CRASH. Actually, it was three screaming girls that flew right out the front door, but same thing. We tore out of that house like Freddy was right on our heels! At this point in the story, I should mention that our house was next door to an elementary school. And the little kids were just being let out for the day. And standing on the sidewalk in plain view are three teenage girls holding knives and freaking out. Correction: two teenage girls holding knives and one holding a rug beater. In front of an elementary school. Yeah, we got some looks. Oddly enough, now that I think about it, no one said anything to us. Then again, maybe that’s not odd; I don’t know that I’d walk up to a panicking stranger holding kitchen knives and ask them what was going on.

Over the next half-hour or so, two things became abundantly clear. One, we needed to call for help (this was in the 80s, before cell phones) so we needed to get the phone. And two, we were FREEZING and wanted our jackets. So we developed a fool-proof plan for entering the house, retrieving the phone AND our jackets, and getting out in one piece. Ann-Marie would find the phone, Jennifer would collect our coats, and I would stand halfway between the front door and the basement door holding two of the knives. I don’t remember if we actually decided what I was supposed to do if someone actually came out of the basement, we might have overlooked that variable.

I'm in the sunglasses, Jennifer is the redhead on the right and Ann Marie is directly in front of my in the first row. Me and my girls... I miss you ladies!

It took another fifteen minutes to get up the nerve to carry out this plan. We were in and out in about ten seconds, just as my boyfriend pulled up to take me to work. He thought we were being ridiculous and went in to investigate. There was nothing awry in the basement. No signs anywhere in the house of an intruder. Although I imagine that any respectable serial killer/rapist/movie villain would never leave behind any evidence of his presence. Well, except for all the blood and carnage. And probably something cryptic written on the wall in blood. But nothing identifiable. But, we were assured that it was probably a stray cat or raccoon or other harmless rabid creature. So I wished the girls good luck not getting killed and then I headed off to work. I'd like to think the past twenty-some years have matured me to the point that noises in the basement wouldn't automatically bring to mind images from every scary movie I've ever seen. I have a feeling that's not the case.

NOTE: this photo was actually taken in Quebec City, which you can read about here.

No, Really, It's My Lunch Break!

2010-11-16T12:42:00.003-05:00

Wow, the past couple days at work have been zipping by! But not so fast that I didn't take a moment to photograph a couple things that amused me. I should warn you, I'm easily amused and it's usually ~~with~~ by myself...

This poor tree outside my window apparently suffers from male-pattern baldness. I wonder if the landscape people could fashion some type of comb-over?

Not a very clear photo, but in case you didn't know it, the label identifies this object as a BANANA. Whew, I'm glad they told me! I thought it was a carrot. Labels for the produce-challenged?

OK, lunch time's almost over; back to work.