Twenty-four

Tomorrow. is first day. of the rest of my life. I'm turning 24. I can hardly believe it. Sometimes I feel like I just got home from school on the last day of my eighth grade year at Moultrie ready to burn my uniform in the backyard and excited about *high school* (and a hush goes over the crowd).

Getting older is weird. Everyone's getting married. Some are already having babies. Buying big stuff we always thought was for boring, old, financially stable people (like cars, houses, computers, etc.), but not for people like moi. What like we're supposed to have babies next??? As Kent said at Steph's wedding last weekend, "kids is a cuss word in our house." Just kidding. But am I? In these last few hours of 23, my youth and zeal waning with every tick tock, I wonder, what's to become of me.

Will I have 2.1 kids and a house with a picket fence? God forbid a mini-van? Will I work for 35 years as a nurse and spend the majority of my life at my job? Will I aspire to so many exciting and admirable things but never get farther than a google search or a daydream? I don't know.

I like kids. And I like picket fences. And I think it's perfectly admirable and exciting to want those things. I definitely want them. But right now? I know that I don't just want to do what I'm supposed to do next just because I don't know what else to do. Supposed to says who? Who's blueprint am I following? My parents? My friends? My colleagues?

Listen, y'all. I'm not trying to be Debbie Downer, I'm just in a funky place right now. News flash, things don't just fall in to place. You have to decide (with Divine guidance, of course) what you want. And what I want is a teensy bit elusive right now. I just got what I spent the last year praying for, (a job, for all you newcomers or those with slight amnesia), and now I'm kind of looking around wondering what just happened. Confession, I'm also trying not to just push through to May when Andrew's done with school and we can be together again (baby lambs and rose petals...roll credits...NOT). Because come May, then what? And I can't really answer that question right now. Neither of us can. And honestly, I think we're precisely where God wants us. Not a little to the left or the right, but right here, exactly. In an odd little cattywampus place, like when you've realized you miscounted the steps in the dark. Because. Last year we learned a slew of very, very hard lessons. And now, it's Friday before midterms and guess what? There's a test. Lesson...test. Duh. Why didn't I think of that? And the first and only question on this test:

1. Trust Me? (Check yes or no).

Notable Achievements

Instead of posting on all that I haven't accomplished in the last ten or so days, I will post on a few notable things juxtaposed to that blessed and proverbial check mark. Glass half full, mm?

1. Half of the curtains are hung in our apartment. Score. This is an accomplishment because, A] we have cinder block walls on all outside walls (can't nail or screw into them without special equipment) and B] I made two of the curtains myself and I have one pair left to make.

2. Andrew and I paid off half of our credit card yesterday. Cheers to being [almost] debt free!

3. Sometime between the months of August and September I completed 30/30 days of Jillian Michaels' 30 Day Shred. They were not consecutive days because I was one giant hematoma after about a week straight of killer work-outs, but more like every other day with long walks on the "off" days. I lost just a couple of libbies, but I could tell a big difference tone wise. I think the biggest thing for me is monitoring what I put in my mouth. And I like brownies.

4. Today, I did Level 1 on the Shred DVD after not having done it in about a month. It was brutal. And I'm being kind. But I finished. Barely. So, it's an accomplishment in my book.

5. Chubby bunny.

6. It's less than a month 'til my birthday. My Dad's birthday is on Friday. He'll be 35. ;)

7. This list is no longer resembling the list that I set out to make. Oh, well.

8. I started looking for a Christmas card yesterday. Loves it.

9. I love Martha Stewart, but I know there's no way that she freakin' makes all those pies and cakes and decorations and crap. I mean, get real. But, I love her.

10. For the life of me, I wanted to make this list a consistent and congruous catalog of accomplishments, but pretty much the first three are the only legit achievements for today's inventory. But three is a good number. Makes a balanced arrangement. Adds height and dimension and interest.

Yep. Thanks for reading.

Save the Date

First day of work: 27 days away.


(Ann Taintor)

First day of Fall: 36 days away.


(Woodnotes)

My birthday: 91 days away.



(le Credit)

Christmas: 129 days away.


(Martha)

So much to look forward to. Life is good.

It's all about the ganache

Yup. It tastes as good as it looks. German chocolate cake. We've still got 3/4 of this delightful confection in the fridge. Be still my heart (be still my waistline)!

Ah, the birthday boy. It takes quite a lungful to blow out 24 candles, but he got 'em all. And when I asked what he wished for he said, "nothing. I've already got everything I want". (Awwwwwwwwwwwww!) Love him, love him!

Sooo, anyway. Today I ventured to Bed Bath & Beyond to take care of some errands and as I was wandering around the hamster-cage layout, I felt a strange, magnetic force pulling me, pulling me towards the kitchen area: it was the wall of gadgets. Hundreds of feet of garlic presses, whisks, lemon zesters, spatulas, potato mashers, meat mallets, flour sifters, avocado slicers...in the immortal words of our favorite fish, Ariel: gadgets and gizmos a-plenty, who's-its and what's-its galore. They've definitely got more than 20 thing-a-mabobs. And I want 'em all. Not really, but really. Where do you store all of these thing-a-majiggers when you get them home? And you use them like once every blue corn moon? Referring to my previous post, necessity is the mother of invention and since I do not own even a noteworthy portion of the doohickies artfully hanging on the BB&B wall, I improvise: meat mallet? Heavy spoon. Lemon zester? Cheese grater. Flour sifter? Wire skimmer. You get the point. My sister-in-law, Melody, forever used an empty wine bottle for a rolling pin until she married my brother (oh, the joys of bridal registries). Even though I can't raid the gadget wall in one trip and forever put my dreams of kitchen utility to rest, I can do one thing. I can make a list. And I can cross things off of that list, little by little, and that's just what I'll do until the gadgeteer within me is satisfied. Mmm.

And just for the record, Jack Bauer is my hero. If you don't watch 24, you should.

Ciao, bellas!

Can't stop a movin' train

Today is Noah's birthday. He's 25. Yup, we're all two-ish years apart, with Jessica being almost-but-not-quite five years older than me and Noah being one year, 363 days older than me. I came home from the hospital on Noah's birthday. Not sure if a kid sister stealing the limelight of cute, squishy babyhood is the best birthday present, but I don't think he really had a choice. So today marks the anniversary of Noah's arrival on this planet (well, you know what I mean) 25 years ago. He is the best brother I've ever had and he is hilarious and very smart, always talking politics and history (sounds like someone else I know, mmmDaddy-o??). One of the reasons why I think he's the best. The hilarity never stops. We always peek at each other during the blessing at supper time. And then, in true big-brother form, Noah tells on me. I think Jesus is okay with it. I think He thinks it's funny, too. ;) Noah and Melody are fa', fa' away in New York City, fighting the good fight of crowds and tourists and subway trains and H1N1. I miss them very much. Three cheers for Noah, on his birthday!

This past weekend was Graham and Joanna Ashe's wedding--and a gorgeous wedding it was! They couldn't have asked for more perfect weather, 70 degrees and sunny, on the side of a mountain at sunset, no less. It really was a miracle--hurricane Ida cast a dark shadow on the week prior, so it was definitely good timing--God timing! Joanna was a beautiful bride and Graham a dashing groom--we can't wait 'til they get home so we can hang out! Side note, Andrew and I have been married for five months. FIVE. Count 'em. Where does the time go?

As you all know Monday was my birthday and I was showered with love and kisses and presents and cards and phone calls and texts all day and I got to buy Christmas decorations from Lowes and HomeGoods. It was almost too much joy and happiness for one poor soul to bear! Andrew and I went to the Melting Pot for a fondue birthday dinner--so. amazingly. drippy. and goooooood. We were stuffed like a coupla mushrooms. Apparently, the Swedes and the French have an on-going battle as to who "invented" fondue. They would. The Melting Pot is an interesting establishment--it's built like some kind of labyrinth with twists and turns and nooks and crannies, ("crannies??", says you), and private booths with privacy curtains. S-K-E-T-C-H-Y is all I have to say about that. Needless to say, Andrew and I did not pull the privacy curtain. We're not shy about eating fondue in public. All shady dealings aside, the food was quite delectable.

This weekend we'll be staying home, thank goodness, catching up on some QT, R&R, TLC and other acronyms. We've got a pig roast birthday party (not for me, for Michael and Grace) scheduled for Saturday evening with some friends from church and their UNC alumni pals. Sunday after church I'm going with some girls to see New Moon--don't knock it 'til you've tried it. I said the saaaame thing, "vampires? You're kidding, right?" But I read all of the books. All of 'em. In like three weeks, or as soon as I could beg, borrow, or steal the next book from my friends. Don't judge a book by its cover. Literally.

I would like to end this post with a joke that my cousin-in-law, Grant, told Barrett over the weekend: "Doctor, Doctor, can I have a new butt? Mine has a crack in it."

I don't write 'em, I just report the facts. That's it and that's all, folks. To bed, to bed.

The years go by/like stones under rushing water/ we only know/we only know when its gone.

Twenty-three

I think I can safely say that my childhood has come softly and complacently to a close. Like a baby-sitter sneaking out of the room of a child they just ever so gently lulled to sleep, there it goes. Today on my 23rd birthday, I turned. Turned from 22 to 23. But really I think the moment you are one age, you begin to turn the next. So tomorrow, I will be turning 24. And the next day and the next until the day of my birth comes again. Not being a child doesn't mean I won't delight in Christmas, sleep in late, eat ice cream for dinner, love red skittles the best, or get excited about new tennis shoes--don't sign me up for shuffle board and the early-bird special just yet. Age is inevitable--maturity is optional; and youth is a state of mind, says my whipper-snapper of a father. And indeed it is.

One year, I think my five-year old birthday party, I had a "kitty-cat" birthday party. Cats. Everywhere. Cat cupcakes, cat plates, cat food (juuuust kidding), cat costumes. We had it all. Meeeeooowww. I think in 4th or 5th grade I had a princess birthday party, where everyone came in dress-up clothes and my dad made cut-out cardboard crowns and my friends and I colored in the "jewels". My mother served tea and crumpets and tiny sandwiches and other small, dainty, royal foods. At sweet 16 my mother threw me a huge surprise party with all of my friends from school and church--believe me I was surprised; I almost had a stroke when they all screamed from the dark. When I turned 18 I decided to have a Christmas themed birthday party, (you're shocked, aren't you?), and my parents dressed up as Santa and Mrs. Claus. Jessica and Melody were elves. Very cute elves, at that. At 19 I discovered designer jeans and when I turned 21 I discovered Budweiser Select. That, and my friends threw me a totally amazing surprise Christmas birthday party, (shocker again, right?), that I loved. Right down to the non-traditional "Christmas tree" (a small pine tree the boys chopped down in the woods) to the spray-on snow around the windows in our Ridge apartment (that we practically had to scrape off). At 10 you hit "double digits". At 13 you're a rotten teenager. At 15 you get your permit and your parents warn people to stay off the roads; at 16 your full license gives you freeeeedom--at least until your midnight curfew. Turn 18 and you're a voting adult. 20 you're in your "twenties". At 21 you're legal. At 23, apparently you get a husband. Yeeeehaw, I like 23!

I'm excited about my 23rd year of life. I'm thankful for it. I've got my health. I've got food, clothing, shelter. I've got family and friends that I love so much I just want to squeeze them all every time I see them. I've got a closer-than-a-brother, stickin'-like-glue, where-you-go-I-go relationship with JESUS, (woah, he's like totally famous). And I've got a song in my heart and a smile on my lips. And that, my friends, is more than a girl could ever ask for.

Amen, and amen.

And one more thing before you go

It's Kelly Byrd's birthday. Her 23rd.

An Ode:

O, my high flying Kelly Byrd:
she flies on the heights of the written word

Her birth will forever be marvelous in my sight
For without her friendship my life would not be alright

She lives there, and I live here
O, but to live what some would call "near"

I hope that this day leaves her glad
For her 23rd year will certainly not be all that bad

That is, if I am within it more than without
Which will be--it must be!--without a doubt.

Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday, dear Kelly Byrd
Happy Birthday to you!

Tha End.