Today has been a cleaning out the closet kind of day. I'm in the midst of downsizing, streamlining, and organizing. There is power in having less stuff, less clutter to taking up all of our mental and physical space. In the midst of picking through the old stuff, I thought about my old myspace account--how I just left it out there abandoned to float around in cyberspace. Then I decided to delete it. But before doing so, I decided to bring some of my very first blogs over here to hang out with the rest of us.
So here you have (organized by year) the old stuff:
July 5, 2006
Let's see...I just did the math and in the past two and half or so weeks I spent at least 32 hours on the road--ALONE. Well, not completely alone. I, of course, logged some serious time on my cell phone, had some rockin' sing alongs with some of my favorite singers...holla Tina Turner!...and had some amazing conversations with God.
What struck me about these conversations with God was that they happened either while I was in the midst of great excitement about going somewhere, or feeling a tad bit melancholy about leaving somewhere. That seems to be the story of my life. What I love is that God has just as much to say to me no matter which road I am on.
So we drove and we talked. Sometimes I did most of the talking, sometimes He did, but there were never any of those awkward silences that can happen even between the best of friends, there were never disagreements about what to listen to on the CD player, and there were never any of those moments when one friend has to suggest that the other put the window down because...well...you know :) I guess what I learned most about those amazing conversations with God is that He shouldn't have to get me alone in a car for long periods of time to talk. I mean, don't get me wrong, we chat on a daily basis, but it often seems to be more of a nod and "Hi. How are you today?" kind of chat. Not that he isn't trying.
So here I am...safely back in Texas...determined that I am going to take more road trips with God without ever leaving home. Unless, of course, it means meeting up with some of my new friends I met along the way.
July 13, 2006
Call me crazy, but I love going to the dentist. Don't get me wrong, there was a span of about five years when this love ran cold. It started about thirty seconds into the extraction of all four wisdom teeth without general anesthesia and ended when I found a dentist with much smaller hands and the ability to hypnotize his patients. Ah..Dr. Jalowy...how I love thee! But perhaps more than Dr. J, I love Maggie his assistant. That woman can polish some molars. And she thinks I have pretty teeth. So as I sat in the reclining chair yesterday as Maggie picked and polished and buffed, I thought "Ah, bliss." Nevermind that number twelve has some decay and will require filling. That just means hypnosis. And happy gas. Which means when it comes time for the procedure I will giggle inappropriately when spoken to, and pause ineffectively before answering simple questions because I have to wait for them to "process." Perhaps it means that after the procedure Maggie will have to write out my check for me because I won't remember how to write "one hundred thirty-five dollars." I will then probably sit in my car for a few extra moments to compose myself, or just enjoy the moment as I repeatedly touch my numb lip. Then I will probably run a stop sign. Or two. And laugh out loud about it. Alone. That is until I realize the gravity of the situation and become gravely concerned about the danger I pose to not only myself, but other drivers and pedestrians, as well. I will then become overly cautious and return to my numb lip, chewing on it to the point of blood shed. Ah, tis true. The grim possibilities of dentistry. It can almost be too much to bear. But then I remember yesterday. The whir of the spinning polisher in Maggie's deft hands. And I remember today. Today I have squeaky clean teeth and only slight decay in number twelve. Life is good.
August 29, 2006
So I had this question posed to me a few days ago and it got me thinking. What are the quirky little things that make me who I am? I am not especially unique, or uniquely special, but when I start thinking about the fact that I am made in Gods image, I am humbled and amazed. And then when I think about that fact literally, I am highly amused. So here it is. Me, embracing my oddness. Its okayyou can laugh when you read it, but just imagine me laughing along with you. It is so much more fun that way.
--I love the smell of skunk. First sniff: EWWW!!! Second sniff: MMMMMM!!!!
--I have naturally straight, strong teeth. I pulled a nail out of a board with my front teeth one time.
--The sight of blue jello makes me gag. I also can't look at blue snowcones or slushes. They look like they should smell and taste like mentholatum
--When I was younger I was so hyper-aware of the way I walked that my right leg would go numb and I'd limp.
--I once got a staple remover wedged behind my teeth (I put it there because I thought it would make nice vampire fangs). I also liked the squeaky noise it made when it opened and closed. Oh, and I once left a penny stuck to the roof of my mouth for a ridiculous amount of time because I was afraid to tell my mom I was sucking on change again. I only told because I was afraid it would poison me, or loosen during sleep and choke me.
--I once ate five boxes of peeps in one day. I also ate a pound of chocolate covered cherries in one sitting. Sugary things that make other people gag make me very, very happy. Yes, I was an adult, and yes, I knew better. No, I did not get sick. But I did get sick when I ate almost a gallon of cling peaches in one evening. No, I was not an adult that time, but yes, I still knew better.
--I still have an overwhelming desire to chew on Barbie shoes when I see them.
--I usually associate people with animals. Typically, dogs, cats, and birds. One of my friends from high school was a cocker spaniel, I have known at least three poodles and one ostrich. I have an aunt who is a bald Persian cat. If they knew who they were they would probably be offended. There are also corresponding sound effects that go with each animal. I imagine these sounds in my head when I am talking to and/or see these people.
This isn't all, but I'll stop there. But you. You know you want to play. Cmon, give it a try.
November 26, 2006
How far is 13.1 miles? The answer: very, very far for someone who can't run 6 miles without almost coughing up a lung. See the problem is this: I needed a challenge, and after the initial thrill of salsa lessons wore off, I decided to register for the Houston half marathon. I know, "HALF MARATHON???" you may be asking, but before you judge, just think about it. Most Americans can't even run around the block, much less to their nearest McDonald's. Trust me. I read Fast Food Nation. I know the state of health in this country. But follow me on this: I thought 13.1 miles is much less than 26.2 miles (Yes, I do simple math). And despite what my friends tell me, I am no gazelle. And 13.1 miles is a doable distance for someone who is built more like she should be pulling a plow rather than sprinting across the Serengeti or whereever it is gazelles live. And then there is that whole self reflection thing. Considering this event takes place the day before my 34th birthday, what better way to remind myself I am alive?
But the truth is, I am struggling. Perhaps you've seen the Mucinex commercials with the nasty phlegm that is camped out in some poor victim's lungs. Well, those may as well be my lungs on the tv. So this is me the day before Thanskgiving: First half mile: C'mon, Steph. You know it takes at least a mile to warm up. First full mile: C'mon, Steph, give it another mile to warm up. And so on and so forth until mile three. At which point I was three miles away from my mother-in-law's house and had no other choice but to return home the way I came: Painfully and sounding like the human equivalent of the transmission on my 1981 Ford Escort before it died.
So while I have no plan to ditch this challenge, I have a feeling January 14th is going to arrive very, very quickly. I just keep planning to put in the miles, perhaps buy stock in Mucinex, and pray that 13.1 miles somehow becomes a little shorter than it is looking right now.
There ya go, 2006 in a nutshell.
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