sniff sniff...

My sense of smell is acutely strong...I think. I mean, how in the world is such a thing measured? Who knows...but, here are a few of my most favorite scents:


perfume: elizabethW Sweet Tea.
I found this is in a little boutique several years ago. When I ran out, said boutique wasn't carrying it anymore. So, I order it now. I'll admit...I picked it up because of the name, thinking of course, "What in the world does sweet tea smell like?" Glorious, let me tell you. So...it's my perfume. Indeed, I aspire to be like the description of the perfume, which is: "gracious, spirited, elegant. An enticing marriage of oriental black teas, juicy fresh Amalfi lemons, and the sweetness of almond honey." Well...except for the black tea part...


candle: Votivo, Red Currant.
Again, boutique find. Fortunately, said store still carries line. AND...just the other day I discovered they're now carrying a travel version of the candle. Just in time for our trip to the beach!


Summer night air.
Come on...you can smell it, so, no need for the scratch-n-sniff picture. I gladly volunteer to take Scout out for his evening jaunt so I can take as many deep breaths of that muggy yet magnificent scent. I'm pretty sure I love this smell as much for all the memories it makes me think about. But also, there's just something about the smell that makes me think about all the fun shenanigans one can get into on perfect summer nights...

Tramps Like Us...

I am attempting to be a runner. At this point, I'm not sure what this is going to mean for me: recreation or racing, treadmill or outdoors, etc. And, as much as I love running, it's still trying to decide how it feels about me. So, while I wait for my charms to work their magic and cause running to reciprocate my feelings, I amuse myself by observing the various "types" of runners that run on the treadmills next to me. They are:

Malodorous Runner: stench coming from either
-rank breath (buddy, can't you taste that nastiness?) which of course is exerted with brute force and inevitably tangles with the air my lungs so desperately need.
-voracious body odor, generally a result of "natural" deodorant. seriously, your Tom's deodorant wears off while you shop for groceries, did you honestly think it would keep you smelling rosy while you ran a 10k?
-old, musty, mildewy towel that runner wipes their sweat with. yuck, yuck, yuck.

Psycho, Freak-Show Runner:
-this type likely varies according to ones gym/running environment. In my case, there's a lady that hikes the MPHs up to some ridiculous level then literally grips the handrails with white knuckles and skips across the raging belt below. if she were to lose her handle on the rails, she would be hurled at mach speed across the entire room and slammed into the mirrored wall smashing into a zillion pieces. Her theatrics are quite the distraction and it seems as though 90% of the people in the room have decreased efficiency in their workouts when she's "running" because of the need to gawk at her ridiculousness.

Noisy Runner: noise coming from either
-clomping/stomping on the treadmill because unlike Frieda Freakshow above, the MPHs are far too low. Said runner is attempting to "run" at the pace of a turtle (rather than just walking) and literally the amount of time the legs of this runner are in the air is so long that when they finally hit the treadmill, the noise is loud enough to be heard over my fully turned up iPod blasting the none-to-quite Foo Fighters, disturbing whatever tranquility I had mustered and shaking their treadmill violently.
-Out of bounds running/walking. Noise in this case is caused because this brilliant athlete seems oblivious of the fact that the walking/running surface of the treadmill is designated by the fact that it's um...MOVING. The rest of the treadmill is you know, the structural apparatus, not an extension of the running surface. So...when you run onto the front of the structure the resulting pounding sound should signal you that you're OUT OF BOUNDS!

Perfect Runner:
-little to no sweating, perfectly paced breathing, appropriately suitable athletic attire, excellently coordinated use of iPod and water bottle. This runner generally gives the impression that running is the easiest, most fulfilling task ever and that you too, could be Prefontaine with little to no effort.

Perfect Runner of course is the one that I usually notice the most because I am...sweating to the point that my clothes are more wet than dry, gasping for precious oxygen, accidentally yanking the headphones out of my ears when getting the cord tangled in my flailing arms, dripping more water onto my shirt than I'm actually drinking and always wishing I had worn something tighter/looser, more colorful/less colorful, etc.

If I ever become any of these types of runners, other than Perfect Runner of course, I plan to hang up the sneaks!

30-A...

Tie and I just returned from a little jaunt to Seagrove Beach. This will hopefully be our first of several trips there this year.

I would like to think that if money/time/effort were no object, I'd be on the first plane to a truly exotic beach location like, say, Fiji or the Maldives or someplace similar. You know, glass-bottomed tiki-hut with burly, tan man paddling up with a platter of island sweet meats and something tasty in a coconut...

But, maybe I wouldn't head for such a location. I'm pretty sure my heart belongs to 30-A (the 20ish mile county highway that Grayton, Seaside, Seagrove, Seacrest, Alys and Rosemary beaches are situated along). And here's why:

1. Beeeeutifaul beach: seriously, no trash. All the beaches in Walton Co. have received some environmental commendation certifying their cleanliness, and all that other stuff that makes them environmentally pristine. Sorry I don't know what it is. But I know that in 4 trips, I've literally seen less than 5 pieces of trash on the beach or in the water. I've seen more wildlife than trash: nurse shark, jellies, crazy fish, dolphins...

2. Little commercialization: no obnoxious condo complexes to ruin the horizon line, none of those ridiculous, trashy tourist shops that sell skeeze and not a nasty, over-priced, kitschy restaurant in site. Instead...

3. Uniqueness and originality: in the form of eateries, recreation, etc. Not one chain dining location on 30-A (that I know of). Rather, smallish, eclectic or wonderfully simple locales like the Shrimp Shack or Pizza by the Sea or one of several Airstream pit-stops selling fresh-fruit daiquiris or BBQ. For fun of the non-eating variety, how about one of the numerous funky art galleries showcasing local talent or a evening on the lawn listening to some lesser-well-known-but likely-way-more-talented musical acts under the stars? All of this is available to you while listening to the waves roll in and smelling that unmistakable sea side air, which you can also do whilst...

4. Biking: like most of the rest of Florida, 30-A is super flat. The sidewalks that line the highway up and down the beach are wide enough to accommodate bikers and pedestrians. There are numerous crossing paths and a large majority of the time, vehicles kindly stop to allow bikers to cross the paths without having to stop and start. There are several bike rental shops in the area that rent the standard beach-comber bike. The bikes are certainly not made for true "cycling" or really much of anything but riding leisurely on flat roads. However, if you really get ambitious, you could take them on a longer jaunt: Tie and I rode 16 miles for a trip just the other day. But, easy strolls are the norm for visitors and many, many get to and fro along the coast on their bikes, stuffing beach bags in the wire baskets on the front and carrying beach chairs on your back. Easy living indeed!

5. Global flair: In addition to the good ole' American patrons of 30-A, there always seems to be a fairly significant number of globe-trotting visitors. There was the Russian waiter at Bud & Alley's (most famous eatery in Seaside). The British ladies working at the new shop in Watercolor (Fuss). And then several other visiting Europeans (I believe) taking in the beauty of 30-A. I really noticed them this time as the cooler weather necessitated their black garb that while certainly keeping them warm, also caused them to stick out a little amongst those of us determined to wear the standard beach attire regardless of the temperature.

Really, there are TONS more reasons why I'm smitten with 30-A. But I think all of them go back to the mellow, quaint and simultaneously cool vibe that imbues everything about the area.

You should go...really, do. Just don't take my beach house from June 26-July 3...k, thanks!

Love & Hugs

I must preface this by saying that indeed, warm blood does flow through my veins, I promise.

However, if I hear one more "I love you" or see another hug exchanged betwixt the high school students whom I am so privileged to teach, I might ralph right in the middle of the floor. At this point, I'm just throwing up in my mouth a little. One more though and it's projectile FOR SURE!

Hugs are exchanged literally for no reason at all. The hug is the new "Hi!" Seriously, it's almost like a glancing blow: going from class to class, instead of "Hey, how's it going? Cool, see you in World History!" It's, "Hey, love you!" whilst hugging and pressing bodies together.

I'm not sure why it bothers me so much. I mean, on the one hand, I think sometimes I'm just sickened by the fact that some of the boys take advantage of (often) innocently given hugs from their friends that are girls. And, there are NUMEROUS ways to express affection, care, concern, coolness, etc. without saying "I love you." Probably, if I'm being honest with myself, I think sometimes I just kinda get embarrassed for them. I remember things I said to people I thought I cared about and looking back, I cringe thinking I was so flippant with my affection.

Really though, it's probably not that big of a deal. It could be worse of course. They could be kicking each other in the chins and saying "Bite me!" every time they see each other.

I guess I'll just have to make peace with love...:)

Up to the Mountain...

I know so many people that admire Martin Luther King, Jr. Certainly said people admire him for various reasons that likely represent values or characteristics that really resonate with them.

I think I admire and respect him for everything he did and said but above all, I admire him for his determination and the decision he made every day, multiple times a day, to live by example, to embody and represent what he desired to have most: love and peace. It is no coincidence that his impact and influence are so great because he lived his mission. He lived the life he wanted others to live. He was genuine and humble and saw each human as a creation of God and deserving of the love and respect that we all owe each other, at Christ's command.

A few years ago, I heard the song, "Up to the Mountain" by Patty Griffin (my favorite artist). It was inspired by Dr. King and his last speech. The lyrics convey the meaning of his life for me: he was obeying God's command for him to bring peace and love by living a life of service and love for others. Thank you Dr. King for your example. Here's the video. The lyrics follow below.



the lyrics:
Up To The Mountain (MLK Song) lyrics

I went up to the mountain
Because you asked me to
Up over the clouds
To where the sky was blue
I could see all around me
Everywhere
I could see all around me
Everywhere

Sometimes I feel like
I've never been nothing but tired
And I'll be walking
Till the day I expire
Sometimes I lay down
No more can I do
But then I go on again
Because you ask me to

Some days I look down
Afraid I will fall
And though the sun shines
I see nothing at all
Then I hear your sweet voice, oh
Oh, come and then go, come and then go
Telling me softly
You love me so

The peaceful valley
Just over the mountain
The peaceful valley
Few come to know
I may never get there
Ever in this lifetime
But sooner or later
It's there I will go
Sooner or later
It's there I will go

So, I went back to school this week (Monday for teacher in-service; Tuesday with the kiddos). After a mere 2 days in the trenches, we have a snow day today. So far, I've seen about 2 flakes. Typical Nashville weather. A lot of bark but rarely any bite.

However, I'm not complaining. In fact, a whole day of nothing (not really) to do leaves all sorts of options for amusement.

Option 1: Sleep late
-a no-go because somehow Tie locked Scout out of the bedroom after he took him out this morning. so, I wake to Scout snorting and grunting at the bedroom door to get in. He comes in...proceeds to root around in the covers and burrow himself into a little, cover-consuming ball of fur.

Option 2: Play in the snow
-also a no-go. See above.

Option 3: Enlightenment
-read Foreign Policy's first annual 100 Global Thinkers of 2009 edition whilst listening to "On Point" on NPR.
-result: I feel stupid, uninformed, pessimistic and hungry. solution? see Option 4.

Option 4: De-enlightenment
-watch E!
-result: guilt, increased hunger.

Option 5: Sudoku
-from a book from Dollar General
-result: winner!

Games...

I lahahuve games! Board/card games that is. Board more than card really.

I have many: Apples to Apples, Mad Gab, Scattegories, Bananagrams, Cranium, Smarta$$, Party Playoff, "Office Trivia", Boggle, etc.

Today, I played Settlers of Catan for the first time. I highly recommend letting someone that has played before explain the directions/rules to you. The instructions are a treatise of confusion! I started sweating reading them.

We played the game thrice. The first time was practice: I won. The second time was for realsies: I lost. The third time was for realsies realsies: I won!!!

Do you like games? Which ones and why come? I'm always in the market for more...

I saw the movie "Brothers" a few nights ago with Tie and his siblings, Tate and Tory. From the preview, it definitely looked like it was going to be an intense flick. Indeed it was. Perhaps a little too intense if you ask Tie. His exact words after we walked out of the theater were "It makes me want to shoot myself in the head."

However, intense, twisted, heavy, depressing movies are some of my favorite. My top 5 include Braveheart (the redeeming qualities outweigh the intensity), Million Dollar Baby (yes, I know I'm the only person on the planet who likes this movie) and Goonies (oh wait...it doesn't fall into this category).

Anyway, the basic plot of "Brothers" centers around a man who is a captain in the Marines (played by Tobey Macguire). He deploys to Afghanistan and bad things happen. Meanwhile, his wife (Natalie Portman) finds comfort in her growing relationship with his ner' do well brother (Jake Gyllenhal). When Brother Marine gets back from war, he has extreme psychological damage which essentially results in the destruction (figuratively) of his family.

One of the main reasons I like intense movies is because they generally make me think about something more so than I usually would. I am embarrassed to admit that it took this movie to actually make me think more deeply about the soldiers that fight for the United States, on my behalf. Tie and I both discussed how we really don't want anyone's family to be ruined in our name...while they fight for us. Is anything worth someone else's life? Certainly my faith is worth my own life. But aren't I the one who has to make that sacrifice? If someone else is making it on my behalf, then obviously I'm not losing anything. In our 20 minute ride home from the movie theater, our conversation only scratched the surface of the issue, which I guess is if and when war and fighting is appropriate and right.

I repeat, it is embarrassing to confess that I think about this subject far less than I should. But, I'm ok to admit that. My admission makes me accountable. It's on my radar. I'm actively thinking about it. I want to resolve my feelings/beliefs about it.

See the movie. It's worth the momentary and superficial discomfort caused by engineered intensity if it causes you to consider the reality of the lives our soldiers lead and the responsibility that we, as citizens of the country they fight for, bear for their circumstances.

(ha...so long that I forgot my username/password combo. lame.)

I'm back in the game. As much as I'd like to pass off my delinquent blogging as a result of busyness, the honest to goodness reason is that I feel all kinds of pressure to say something witty or compelling or even provocative (in the PG way). Yep, that's why. Why waste everyone's time with something boring? That's my brilliant logic.

So, I'm going to lower the expectations. We'll see how that goes.

"New" blog #1: I've decided to trick myself into feeling less complain-y. The past month of school (which I most thankfully have a break from now) has been pretty...well, terrible. No, not that bad in the grand scheme of things but far less than pleasant. I'm a person who needs to find fulfillment in my profession. It ain't happenin' these days. And, no matter how many different ways I've tried to deal with my feelings about it, my solution of the moment doesn't last through the next "episode".

However, my latest and hopefully final solution to feeling under-appreciated/under-paid/overwhelmed/over-worked, blah, blah, blah is to try to appreciate someone more, value someone more, lighten someone else's workload, etc. You know, try to assuage/alleviate someone else's feelings of dissatisfaction. I'm thinking this will a) help someone else feel better and b) make me feel like a chump for whatever I'm feeling sorry for myself about. Thus far, I've employed said technique approximately one time. With smashing success I might add. I'm going to try to make Scout feel less-tired by playing with him. Yes, this is an excellent plan!

Gallery Fridays...

While there are numerous, obvious reasons why Friday is quite possibly the best day of the week...until Sunday...I invite you to add another reason to the list. The Guardian (the British paper that I read) has an awesome "Week in Wildlife" picture gallery that they update every Friday. The quality of the pictures is excellent. They frequently show endangered species of animals and plants. They also frequently have pictures that are flat out hysterical. Here is a sampling of why I LIVE for this gallery on Fridays

from this week's gallery

"Macaque monkeys in Lopburi, north of Bangkok. Thailand started a birth control programme to sterilise male monkeys in the famous monkey town"


"'Footprints'. The entry for the Veolia Environment Wildlife Photographer of the Year 2009 for the One Earth Award category. This and nearly 100 other winning images will go on display at the Natural History Museum in London on 23 October"

last week's gallery

"Two-week-old Ruffles, the red ruffed lemur, investigates a pear at Lemur Land in Blair Drummond safari park in Scotland. It is the first of the endangered species to be born at the park"


"A female hamadryas baboon (Papio hamadryas) and her baby in the ape house of the Hellabrunn zoo, Munich, Germany. The natural habitat for the species can be found in Africa, Saudi Arabia and Yemen"

Speaking of...

You know how most people hate public speaking? I used to think that was me. However, considering the fact that I stand in front of people (granted, they're teenagers so not entirely people) all day long and yap away, I had to reexamine the exact nature of my hatred.

Indeed, I do not hate public speaking. I hate planned public speaking. You know, a written speech, a recited reading, a question during a question and answer session. Seriously, all of these things make me either a) cry b) have a heart rate of 1013 beats per minute or c) have a strange and false feeling of overconfidence resulting in a shockingly embarrassing moment.

Before I reveal these shameful and ridiculous moments, I must, in my own defense, say that I'm pretty good at public speaking of the off the cuff variety. I mean, I do amuse the teenagers with my spitting...I mean speaking. I do disarm anxious parents worried about their child's potential success in my AP class by telling them about the 10 eyeliners I just tried out on my hand (and showing them too, of course). Yep, happened in Target today. Meet parent, tell them how great their kid is and how they're sure to do well in the class, right? No, because that would have been pre-planned and I would have probably wet my pants with nervousness. So, every lady likes eyeliner, right?

As you can see, this post wasn't pre-planned. But, I'm righting the ship. Example #1 of the catastrophe that is my and pre-planned speaking: Some dumb American Legion essay contest I was hookwinked into participating in in high school. I had about 2 days to write the speech. I had to stand up in from of 20 or 30 wonderfully old and patriotic veterans and give the speech. I was supposed to memorize the speech, which I didn't know until I got there. Right... 10 minutes to memorize. Ha. I decide to spend that time crying instead. That was probably the first time I had cried in several months. And it showed. I couldn't even speak when I got in front of the staring eyes. I choked and gasped for air and all the old people gave me sympathetic looks which made it 10,000 times worse. I think I almost died.

Example #2: In church one time (about 15 years ago), I had to go up to the pulpit, stand on the stool, step up to the microphone and say the scripture reading. It was the parable of the vineyard (that's right, I don't know the actual scripture reference, shame on me). I thought I was going to throw up which obviously clouded my judgment and caused me to say, in true phonetic fashion, "VINE-yard" rather than vin-yard. And I did it about 100 times. It was lovely. People at church still remind me of this gaffe. They laugh. I throw up a little in my mouth. Memories...

Example #3: Whilst attending a teaching conference in San Antonio a few weeks ago, I was in a session with about 125 other AP teachers. I had a question for the presenter. Simple enough. I raised my hand. About 5 minutes elapsed between when I raided my hand and when the speaker called on me. Anxiety ensued. I'm pretty sure I could literally see my heart bounding through my shirt/chest/ribs, etc. I promptly worked up a horrific sweat in a room that was 55 degrees. Presenter calls on me. I'm lightheaded at this point and my voice is shaking as I ask the basic question. Yay, it's pretty ridiculous.

It's so bizarre. I've talked to about a million strangers before, unprompted and unscripted. Easy cheesy. But thinking about asking the dentist at my next appointment about the difference between "floss" and "dental tape" shakes me to the core.

Passive Agressive...

So, I wanted to write about nosy people inquiring about when I'll have a baby. But, I decided I didn't really want to open that can of worms. Instead...I decided to share another hilarious blog that I like: Passive Aggressive Notes. So I type myself on over to the blog and what do you think I find? Click here to check it out.


I know this is just coincidental but it's pretty funny...I suppose.

(Wo)Man vs. Salad

Today I chose to torture myself and go another round with one of my most bitter enemies...the salad bar. No, not the kind with a sneeze guard, you know, ala Ryan's or some other disgusting place like that where they serve more fried things with mayonnaise than actual vegetables. Oh wait...this one did have a sneeze guard. But, it was at Whole Foods, so it wasn't a regular sneeze guard: it was organic, vegan, PBA-free and completely biodegradable.

One thing the sneeze guard wasn't though was helpful. Really, I'm going to have to start taking my own food scale with me to the salad bar. Who knew that you could spend so much $ on salad?! The salad is $8.99/lb. and I tried soooooo hard to stay around the $9.50 mark but blast if the darn thing wasn't $12.20. Really Mr. Electronic Scale? R-e-a-l-l-y? This isn't my first time at the rodeo. I don't get lots of tomatoes. They're pretty but heavy little buggers. Lycopene needs liposuction! I don't get broccoli or lots of beans or anything like that that not only hikes up the weight but also inevitably gets stuck in my teeth. I don't rest my purse in the salad bowl and then weigh it...urg! How can hearts of romaine, minor amounts of red onions, green onions, green peas, edamame, chicken, croûtons (my favorite of course), a sprinkling of cheese and dressing cost so much?

It's bad enough that I have to stand in the check out line at Whole Foods without the reusable grocery bag (I ALWAYS leave it at home; Tie's resorted to using them as a lunch box, a bat-bag and a clothing duffel), without some disgusting vegetable juicer thing and without the overbearing smell of petchuli. But to also suffer the mortification of attempting to be healthy and Whole Foods-y with a salad that cost $12.20? Riiiiiiight. Those four little numbers further announce to the hipsters that I just can't cut it in the world of homeopathic remedies, cold-pressed extra virgin olive oil from protected tree-farms and vegan chocolate java cookies.

I guess I'm going to have to start counting peas and croûtons. I'd much rather pretend to be considering terriayki or curry tofu whilst actually counting each pea than continue to suffer the "Stick to Kroger" eye rolls or "That's what she gets for not buying the limited edition organic feed sack reusable bag" sneers I get when checking out. Or maybe someone would like to be my personal salad-shopper? Any takers?

Past in Present...

The title of this post refers to one of my favorite songs, by Feist. The first time I heard it, I understood every word. By understood, I mean BOTH that I could hear all the words clearly AND that I knew what they meant. Mind you, this is no small feat for me. Rewind back to Mariah Carey, circa 1994. "Dreamlover" was tearing up the air waves (yes, I just said that). As I sang along, I heard, "Because I wanna ship a river with you baby!!!!" Of course, this was nowhere near the actual lyrics, "Because I wanna share forever with you baby!" No...I don't know what it means to ship a river. I figured Mariah did and she's the multi-platinum artist, no? When my 9 year old sister accurately sang the lyrics and scoffed at my 13 year old interpretation, you can only imagine my mortification...

Sooooo....here we are with "Past in Present" lyrics. I mean, without hearing anymore of the song, you could probably crack the nut just from the title. But, the vivid symbolism in the short diddy fleshes out the meaning. Why I find it so meaningful is because it pretty much sums up my life's motto. Well, some of it...the rest is still in development.

I teach history. I love it. I mean, freakishly so. Not because I know it very well, not because I think FDR was the best man ever (BARF) or because I stunk at math and science (mostly true...). I love it because it's truly amazing to me how pretty much every decision that we make as people, leaders and nations has been done before. However, each of us is wonderfully and uniquely made. Even though the scenarios throughout time are the same, the problems are the same, the triumphs are the same: we are all different. Thus my fascination at how it all works out.

Which brings me to how it epitomizes the non-work part of my life (which will hopefully balance out proportionally as I teach a little more...) There's so much of my family in me. So much of my friends in me. Our shared experiences. Their experiences that determined how they interacted with me (and vice versa). Some of these experiences I'm aware of, many of them I'm not. All of them, the Past, inform and shape, the Present.

Sigh, how perfect. Well, maybe not for you. Now that I'm reading it and typing it, I realize it seems kinda nerdy or maybe oversimplified. However, I'm sure, at the very least, you can relate to that one song that just does it for you. You get it. It relates to your life. It makes perfect sense for you life. Those are the best ones!

(the lyrics, in case your interested: http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/Past-in-Present-lyrics-Feist/9287312CE11F0D72482572AF00054516)

Closure?

Something has been nagging me lately. I'm pretty good at not holding grudges, letting things go, etc. I mean, just like everyone else, a lot of things happen in the course of my relationships that I don't like. Sometimes I do react, especially if the hurt/anger is instant. More often than not, I internalize, mull over it for awhile and then either let it go or hold onto it for a little longer, rinse & repeat, etc. Generally, I try to consider the value of saying something. Will it change the situation? Usually not. Will it make things worse? A lot of the time. Will I feel better? Maybe for a minute.

Said process hasn't worked on what's currently nagging me. I can't let the issue go and I haven't said anything to the person and what's worse, I can't decide if I want to say something or not. The relationship has ended. It will never resume. So there's nothing to salvage. I don't care what the person thinks of me and while I wouldn't intentionally hurt their feelings, if that happens, I won't lose any sleep over it. The only reason to say anything at this point is so I can move on and be done with it. I guess that's called closure, right? I know a lot of people are all about closure, moving on, yada yada. It's never done much for me. But, I'm feeling it in this situation...

Are there negative side effects to closure?

Beachy Keen...

So...I'm going through a dry spell..obviously. Mostly because I haven't had anything interesting to say lately. But, I've got to break the funk, so I'll resort to updating.

Tie and I went to the beach with our friends Andy & Jenny two weeks ago.

Not just any beach. Seagrove Beach. Sigh...I love that place. If you can be in love with a place, I'm a smitten kitten! We went to the same exact spot last year and had a great trip. I was slightly worried that this year wouldn't be as great as last year but, alas, it was!

Now, the beach and I have had a troubled relationship. When I was 8 or 9, I got stung by a wicked jelly fish! It left a scar on my foot. And, don't let anyone tell you that's not possible. I have proof!

My family went to Panama City Beach when I was 12. I had recently broken my ankle and had to wear a stikin' garbage bag over my cast. Unfortunately, they don't make nude colored bags so, me and my giagunzo black garbage bag were relegated to making sand castles: I'm pretty sure getting sand in crevices isn't anyone's favorite part of the beach. My parents did let me float in a large raft at one point. I nearly floated to Cuba before anyone came out to get me. I was roasted and peeved and my ankle had sweat and as a result itched terribly. Strike number 2 for the beach.

The third strike came during my freshman year in college. I tore pretty much every ligament/tendon in my right shoulder during the first Spring practice for softball. I had shoulder repair surgery right before Spring Break. My family went to Destin the following week with my little brother's school baseball team. Tie and his family went with us too. I was still loaded up on pain meds and my scar was oozy and nasty, etc. I had to wear a ton of gauze on it and the dumb sling. So...no swimming for me. No sun for me. And, to make matters worse, my Mom decided that I needed to be weaned off the meds...she called the trip my beach detox. I was miserable and my medication was being reduced. Oh bother is right!

So...me + beach = flop for awhile. The streak was broken in 2005. My college girlfriends and I went to a place on the outskirts of Destin. It was low key and the place we stayed was super nice. At the time I thought the beach couldn't get any better but...then Tie and I went together last year.

So, this year and last year were pretty much the same, save a few differences. Last year we went it early August. This time, mid-June. It was hot this time but not nearly as hot as last year. We rode the rented beach comber bikes a lot more this year. No one got sunburned this time. But, we still went to Seaside several evenings to ride around the neighborhoods and discuss the houses, etc. We still ate at Bud & Ally's. We still played a ton of games in the evening. Still drank margaritas, wine, beer...no Virginia Gentleman this time though!

Seagrove is great because it's so low-key and non-commercial. It's between Destin and Panama City on a stretch of 2-lane highway, 30-A. It's right next to Seaside, which is extremely picturesque and beautiful. But, it's super expensive and there are some snooty rich people there. With my wine-spilling and infrequent bike rage (seriously, you have to go single file when there's traffic coming at you from the other direction...), I'm not sure I'd fit in!

Anyway, the beach and I have reconciled and we have a great relationship now. I like to go fairly early, stay as long as I can stand it (until I have to potty) and go back for more after that. I like to swim out really far in the water (until Tie says to come in) and I like to drink out of glass bottles (until the beach patrol rides up on the sand.

See, I told you I was a smitten!

Teach Your Children Well...

Since I've started this blog there have been several times that I wanted to write about something that people would likely disagree with, you know, stir up a little controversy (my FAVOURITE word to hear spoken in a British accent...Con-tra-vasee)

Maybe wanting to write about controversial things isn't what I mean. In fact, I guess I haven't wanted to write about them. I've thought and felt things that would likely cause disagreement/controversy were I to blog about them and I've quickly dismissed them as blog fodder.
Strangely enough, I wouldn't say that I shy away from difficult conversations in which people disagree. I don't seek them out either, but I don't pretend to be Polly Peacemaker. I'm pretty sure the reason I shy away from such content is because I fear misunderstanding on the part of a reader and then subsequent judgment based on that misunderstanding. In this forum, there isn't much opportunity to clarify or emphasize with tone or expression, etc.

I say all of that to say this, I finally feel moved enough to say something that people probably won't like. Look at this picture below. It was posted today on by the Guardian, a British newspaper.


-Ramallah, West Bank: Palestinian boys play with toy guns in the Al-Amari refugee camp

The instant I saw this picture, I felt nauseous. My brain registered something so base and vile that I had a physical reaction. Then I felt immensely sad. These children are playing, imitating murder, death, violence. The shadow of the child in the lower left corner seems to show an upturned cheek, as if he is smiling. Enjoying the macabre game. He probably is. He's a kid. It's fun to run around and chase people and "get" them. It's harmless. It's natural.

I'm sad because these children don't have much chance to realize that their
harmless, kid-game and the adult reality of their environment don't have to be the same. They play a game this way because this is what they know as an acceptable and realistic way of life. Who tells them that it's never ok to kill anyone regardless of anything they say or feel or do? How can they be expected to know such things if they don't consistently see this modeled for them in their lives? They can't, certainly. There's little to no hope for children in this circumstance.

Eeeeewww

Vegemite...really? I've never had it so I know I'm committing the cardinal sin of commenting without knowledge. BUT, disgusting! I just watched Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern on the Travel channel. The Vegemite showcase occurred in Australia, where this episode was set.

I love this show. Of course there's crazy weird food, but it always has a connection to the locale and the culture, which is what I really love about the show. Don't worry, I would never offer to stand in for Andrew and actually eat any of the food, I just think it's cool that someone does (someone that's not me). Anyway, prior to the Vegemite segment, Andrew was eating roasted moths, kangaroo tails and emu breasts. Yum.

But, back to the Mite. Apparently, it's made from some yeast residue or something similar that a beer brewmaster thought might be a tasty treat years and years ago. Zimmern described it as tasting like raw beef bullion paste. Ha...run out and buy some NOW, right? He interviewed many native Australians regarding the Mite. It's most commonly eaten for breakfast on "toesat" with "buttah". 9 out of 10 Australian household's have it on hand. Gag gag gag.

DO NOT confuse Vegemite with Nutella. Even though they come in a similarly shaped little jar and even those the consistency is somewhat similar and even though Vegemite is only slightly darker than Nutella and even though they both are enjoyed on continents other than our own, they ARE NOT the same. Vegemite is disgusting. That is all...

Very Proud...

Of my sophomores..Their final exam grade consisted of a project to create a WWII game. They had creative license but many fashioned their game after existing games (as I would have done as well). Anyway, I've included pictures of 4 of the more outstanding games that were turned in. Since they turned in their project during their exam time, I didn't get to see most of them to tell them how proud I am of their effort. So, here's my little shout out to them for their stellar efforts!

To Dream the Impossible Dream...

In an effort to leave less of a "clumsiness" footprint on this delicate earth, I've decided to keep track of my moments of awkward catastrophe. My thinking is that if I'm aware of the more common incidences, I might be able to avoid or possibly even prevent them...

In order to make this a fair fight, you know, give myself hope to continue getting out of bed in the morning, I'll have to allow clumsy moments to be offset by moments of grace and poise. Ultimately, the goal at the end of the day will be a
neutral score. If I fell down the stairs, that's a negative point. If I tripped up the stairs while carrying a McCafe and didn't spill a drop, that's a positive point (only if I already have negative points though...) Hum...perhaps I should go ahead and set point values for some of my more common mishaps...

spilling anything other than water: 1 pt
spilling anything other than water on furniture that doesn't belong to me: 2 pts
running into walls, door frames, coffee tables: 1 pt
causing others to run into walls, door frames, coffee tables: 2 pts
breaking dishes, glasses, cheap plastic jewelry: 1 pt
breaking antique furniture (regardless of ownership): 3 pts
breaking bones (my own): 4 pts
breaking bones (others; unwarranted & accidental): 6 pts
causing damage to a vehicle (minor; via runaway shopping cart, etc.): 3 pts
causing damage to MY new vehicle (ANY & ALL): 4 pts
ripping, puncturing, shredding, irreparably staining clothing (minor): 1 pt
ripping, puncturing, shredding, staining clothing (in an embarrassing region): 2 pts

Unfortunately, this isn't an exhaustive list, just all that I can bring myself to openly confess to the world. Perhaps more unfortunately, I can't really think of one thing I do on a daily basis that could be the first entry on the list of moments of grace & poise (worth positive points, of course).

I shan't be counting points from this holiday weekend. Were I to do so, the tally would be somewhere just north of -7...I'd like to start at 0. And since it's only 10:40 in the AM, I'm probably as close as I'll ever be...let the games begin!