Okay, so I admit it - I like some Britney Spears songs. And..right now I am listening to "Toxicity." It was really popular when I took this jogging class. Now, I just want to run when I hear it.

Yeah! We are moving!!! Can I hear a "whoop whoop"? No, I'm not insane - just insanely tired. And a little happy. And a little worried.

I want to tap dance again. I might just be another Ginger Rogers with a few more lessons. Yeah., baby, that's right. You heard me.

I am sooooooo tired. I need sleep. It's not fair. Hubby can have caffeine - I can't. No justice.

I like flowers. I want a yard full of flowers.

Friends are a blessing of God. I can't imagine life without any friendships.

Modest Mouse is a great musical group. Their music is great for days when you resolve to make the best of a stressful life. "Float On" just kind of makes you think things are better already.

What is a "machine head"? And why is it better than the rest? What is the rest?

I like to blog. It helps me procrastinate. Hubby is away getting more caffeine. I want Mountain Dew, too. NO FAIR!

Moving is soooo not fun. It will be thirty years before I want to move again. Then, I will just move onto my house boat and sail away. Of course, I will have to convince the people that I love to also buy house boats to sail with me. Wouldn't that be great? Either that or a RV caravan sort of like "Promised Land."

"You never know just how you look through other people's eyes..." A girl at the restaurant tonight told me I was huge. She asked me if I ate alot. She just found out that she is pregnant.

I must go pack things. I must go pack things...I hate packing boxes. However, if I don't watch Hubby closely he will do what he is threatening to do - throw random things in a box. Then the objects will be unorganized and jumbled - kind of like the thoughts in my head. Yeah, I'm tired.

There are some days when Limp Bizkit's "Break Something" just fits all too well.

Today is one of those days. Life is absolutely aggravating today. My landlord is messing around with things on my front porch. Hubby is in class. I don't want to mess with the situation. The apartment is a mess. Only have two days to pack and move. We close on Thursday - that's a good thing, at least. Bella is a terror. My huge, unorganized paper on body image is due - the rough draft- a week from tomorrow. I spent 4 hours in the library doing research today. I can't get anything done!!! And - I can't have any carbs - or else I will be fat. What in the world doesn't have carbs besides nasty stuff? (Although, I guess that salad and frozen grapes aren't nasty. Or a great big, juicy steak cooked over an open fire...)

Can you sense the frustration?

"Give me something to break!"

Just one of those days

Feelin' like a freight train
First one to complain
Leaves with a blood stain...


And if my day keeps going this way I just might break your (bad word) face tonight...

I would love nothing more than to hit the gym for two - make it three - hours. This is a great mood to push your body to complete physical exhaustion to. Then, I would have a nice, steamy bubble bath and listen to Grateful Dead after all of the anger passed. Then, I would devour a salad and frozen grapes and pray that God would change my attitude. Then I would nestle into my competely neat and tidy little bed to watch Gone With the Wind while I drank Martinelli's Sparkling Cider (I know - it's silly. However, this is my wishful thinking.) and paint my toenails. Or look at the latest issue of In Style Magazine. Ah, so therapeutic.

However, it's back to reality. Tonight, I must write five pages - at least - of my paper. Then I must pack and clean this awful dumpy place. By that time, the creature inside of me will have me so tired I will not be able to move. I will not, however, be able to be comfortable either. So, that leaves me tossing in bed all night - praying for rest. Yeah!

I don't care what rumors circulate about Tchaichovsky, I think he was brilliant.

Aren't roses beautiful? I really, really find myself favoring them over more exotic flowers. I can't wait to start planting roses in my yard. It really is tiny. But, actually, that just means that I can convince Hubby that grass is boring and we need a yard full of flowers - which has long been a dream of mine.

I want a piano... I know that it will probably be years, but every time that I listen to classical music that I have played before, I start counting in my head. Isn't that weird? Oh, well - maybe someday...

So, this weekend was a weekend to be around babies - lots of cute baby boys! It started off with seeing a cute little newborn in a gas station on our way to Charleston Saturday. (Isn't that a bizarre place for a newborn?) Then, I got to see Hubby's friends' little 2-year old son. He was so adorable! Then, last night we were invited to a party where there was a cute little 4 month old baby boy. I can't wait to get my little boy!!! Whenever I get really stressed, I just sit in a rocking chair and put my hand on my belly and talk to him. He usually starts moving around. That is one of the most awesome feelings. I really feel sorry for men - they miss out. (I know that I will probably not feel that way some time around July 1st.) But I still can't wait to rock my little boy! :)

Yeah for springtime, and Easter, and baby boys! (I keep imagining next Easter - when my little boy and my very handsome husband are matching in blue seersucker suits. It will be awesome!)

Just Reading the News...

So, here I am...

I am supposed to be writing a Philosophy paper on Descartes, but I'm listening to DC Talk (that's right, you heard me) and blogging. Yeah!

I just have to say kudos to the spunky little old lady who saved her home from vandals. In Houston, there was this little old lady at home with her two grandsons. She said that she was upstairs when she heard a knock at the door. So, she leaves the boys upstairs and starts hobbling down the stairs, yelling "I'm coming."

The impatient bad boys at the door start messing with the knob. This leaves granny to yell, "I TOLD you I was coming!" She gets to the door and opens it just a crack. That is when she spots the would-be-intruders. She also spots their gun. Now, what does little granny do? This is great, y'all...

"Hell no!" She screams.

The guy goes for his gun. She starts running out of the door. That's when she remembers that the boys are in the house.

"If you mess with my grandsons, I will KILL you!"

They must have believed her. Those men tore out of there. Now, is that or is that not a spunky little lady? Looks like it pays to have some spunk in this world. I can only hope that I, too, will one day be a spunky little old lady.

Wow, "What Have We Become?" is a really, really sad song. Have you ever noticed?

On a more serious note...
Please join me in praying for the Christian convert in Afganistan. May God's will be done in this situation. And - wow - how awesome is his outlook at the whole situation? I pray that God would give me the strength to act in the same unapologizing, nonchalant way if I were to ever be in that situation. May God give him strength and peace and joy - even now.

Wow, is this funny...

Today in class, I had the funniest thing happen to me...

I rushed to class today. Since I can no longer - or at least this is what I am "afeared" of- sit in a desk in that room comfortably, I decided to take on eof the side desks in the room so that I could just sit sideways and avoid trying to put my watermellon-sized-belly under the desk. So, this puts me in front of this older man.

Now, this man is an interesting figure. He is obviously retired. I think that he must just be auditing classes for free since he is an older dude. I totally could see myself doing that one day. I can also see myself bringing the whole class chocolate chip cookies and pictures of my grandchildren...But that's a different story. I have been raised with a sense of respect and veneration for those with hoary hair. So, when he shuffles papers the whole class and sighs deeply at every sentence, I just ignore it. I just keep thinking about how cool it is that he is still interested in obtaining knowledge instead of sitting at home exercising his fingers on his remote control. However, after today, I am firmly convinced that his wife provided his sudden inspiration for the quest of knowledge in the form of an ultimatum - poor woman. The old curmudgeon was probably driving her crazy at home.

I don't know why, but every time that I enter that classroom my allergies go crazy. Today, my nose kept itching. Now, that in itself makes it pretty hard to concentrate on the impact of journalism on popular culture of the 19th century. To provide some relief, I just rubbed my nose with the back of my hand - wondering the whole time who was going to be my guest. (Y'all know that wives' tale, right?)

Mr.Curmudgeon leans forward in his seat. I am actually caught up in the impact of the lecture at the time, so I am completely unprepared for what I am about to hear.

"Can't you get yourself a damn kerchief, for God's sake?!"

I turned around - along with about three or four people around me - and just stared at him. I could have understood it if I was blowing snot boogers on my desk, or if I was actually picking my nose...But for touching the tip of my nose with the back of my hand? What?

My eyes went as big as saucers. Even Dr.Shields looked in our direction. Pregnancy hormones almost took over at this point. I really wanted to start crying, and go home. I don't know if he was just one of those old people who thought that he was whispering, or if he just didn't care. But he had said this in a pretty loud voice.

I suddenly had images of me knocking him in the head with my notebook. For those of you who don't know, I don't genuinely like people - at least not rude people. I am really praying that God will help me love people. So, I felt that to hit this little old man would not be the correct mode of action. So, I just started praying for him. Really, y'all, he must be really, really miserable.

And then the comedic nature of the situation hit me. His face held the same expression that I have seen on the faces of little, belligerent children who missed a nap. And my face must have been pretty funny, too. And then I thought about what would have happened if I had stood up, knocked him on the head with my notebook, and sat back down to take notes again. I might have killed him - or at least knocked him unconcious. He's a pretty old dude.

And then I just wish that I could buy him an etiquette book. And tell him that now that he lives in the South, he's expected to be nicer to people. He is not in New York City. However, if he should like to go back there...(His accent plainly tells that he is not from around these parts.)

And then here is what I really, really wish that I could have said to him - because this is what he needed to hear most:
"Can't you accept the love of Jesus into your heart, for your sake?"

And then that just reminds me of something that judgmental, self-righteous little me needs to hear. When I would misbehave as a child, my mom's preferred means of discipline was to banish us to our rooms to copy a meaningful Bible verse several, several times. While I was not happy at being punished, I couldn't say anything because it was the Bible I had to copy. So, I would sit in my room and write, and think, and try not to feel guilty, and try to tell God that I didn't need that verse...It did no good. And I really did learn from that punishment. And now, thanks to my misbehaving and mom, I have Ephesians 4:32 forever engrained into my memory.

"Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you."

God, I know that you are still working on me. And I'm glad for it. Because I need alot of work. Help me to fulfill the commandment to truly love others - even the rude people.

It's Okay, You're Not Supposed to Get It....

Trying to desperately get to know you...Tearing through layers and layers...spreading out like a jungle... My machete must be dull...

God save the King of New Orleans..

We are like dust floating in sunbeams...Do you remember?

How long ago was it? Red car, warm wind rushing in our hair, bright sunshine ... Music played...

Was it a dream? Shady paths, rustling leaves, high hopes...Birds sang...

My feet fly...my heart pounds...Feel the speed...Feel the rush of air...Keep running...Keep running...Keep running.....Don't stop...Never slow down...The peace of sweet oblivion...My feet move by themselves...

My eyes are closed...Arms spread wide...I float on the breeze...Am I standing still?...

Gravity is defied...I am weightless...Carried...My eyes are closed...I am floating...

You hugged me...my soul...my heart...I was supported...peace...

I am here, but I am far away...I dance...I float...weightless...Can this be real?...

Silly girl...silly thoughts...silly emotions that cloud my mind...

One chapter closed...another just beginning...The only part I know is the very last page...
And You are there...

What a Day.....

So here is how my day has gone so far - and it's barely noon.

This morning, I overslept - listening to about an hour of old timey country music on 94.3 FM on my alarm before finally deciding that I needed to get up. That, of course, made me late for my class -Senior Seminar, no less. So, I ran to class, realizing that I had no change for the meter and had no way to get change before class. I get to class, where we are discussing the 30 page papers that I have due in two weeks. Yeah, that's right - due the week after I move into my house. Have I written anything beyond the introduction? No. But, my teacher really, really liked my introduction. So, at least that went right.

After trying to explain to him that it is really hard to write a paper when you have to revise your outline (once I started trying to write, I realized mine need some serious help), pack for a move, catch up after being sick for over a week, and carry a baby, I walked out to my car. Oh, wait - where was my car? That's right, folks. My car was towed. So, I called Hubby who was trying to finish some of the enormous work load that he has for his classes. He came to pick me up, so that I could drop him off, so that I could take the car and pay the $200 in parking fines to get my car back. Needless to say, we got stopped by a train - taking up valuable time.

So...I dropped him off. Then I went to pay tickets. I sat through 4 lights at the corner of Laurel and Sumter while a HUGE procession of cop cars went whizzing by. Finally I park and walk several blocks. Ladies, once you are pregnant, you will realize what a feat that is in itself. I get to the building, only to discover that the place that I need to be is on Main Street. Yeah - right?

So I drive the length of Main St about 3 times looking for the place. Finally find it. The lines are set up like a checkout at a grocery store. There are two lines. You pick the line that you would like to wait in - and wait your turn. So, there is only one woman in one line and two women in the other line. Naturally, out-breath-from-my-walk-me takes the line with only one other woman in it. This obnoxious woman with hair a color that will never be found in nature almost knocks me down, informing me that she is not really in the other line. She is in limbo. And which ever line should finish first would be her line. Okay, but do you really have to be rude about it? I mean, I am already not such a nice person. And I'm pregnant - enough said.

You can imagine the rest of the story. I pay the tickets. I go to the municipal court. The baby is pressing on my bladder. Actually, the baby feels more like a lead cannon ball in my stomach...

I get into my car to brave traffic to take me back to my dumpy apartment - which I am still trying to pack to get out of. And I just started whining to God. (That is - in case you wondered - my favorite pasttime lately - or so it seems.)

"I know that You are in control, God. But what are we going to do? I can't write my paper. Hubby can't get his school work done and work. How are we going to pack? What if the animal control people come back to take Bella and we really don't have the 5 days they promised? What are we going to do with Bella? Should we try to give her away? What is going to happen with this landlord situation? I feel like crap, God - all the time. Where is Hubby going to find a job? ...Blah, Blah, Whine, WHINE!"

And God answered me back. Not audibly. But, sort of. Do you remember that song "Don't Worry. Be Happy"? That started playing on the radio. That song always just brings back a wave of comforting feeling from my childhood. It reminds me of basking in the sunshine and feeling the warm water of Lake Murray - every day of the summer when I was a kid. It reminds me of making lake-shore-sand-castles with my Mom and brother and aunt and cousins. It reminds me of powdered doughnuts. It reminds me of a time when I didn't worry how I looked in a bathing suit. It reminds me of a time when there were no landlords, or bills, or 30 page papers to write, or animal control people wanting to take my dog away...It reminds me of laughter, and love, and lots and lots of energy...

I could feel the tears in my eyes. That's when the words started sinking into my brain. "Don't Worry. Call me, I'll make you laugh..." That's what God is telling us. Call Him. Talk to Him. He'll put things into perspective. He'll give us joy. We just have to listen. So, He keeps telling me this over and over again. But why can't I accept it? I don't know, but I'm praying about that, too. God is awesome. More awesome than I can ever know. I just need to trust Him.

Do you remember the guy who told Christ, "I believe. Help now my unbelief." I am that guy. I am the girl in Miracle on 34th Street saying "I believe. I believe. It's crazy, but I believe." I acknowledge it. I am just having a hard time claiming it. Pray for me.

God, please help me to claim the promise that You have given me. Help me to know that You are in control. Help me to trust You with every situation. That means taking my hands off. Help me, Father.