8.30.2006
8.26.2006
Parental Guidance Suggested
The following couple of informational pieces may not be suited for young children (or men of any age or my Very Southern Mother, who would not appreciate the immodesty). Beth, however, will probably love it:
There is, for some reason, a life-sized cardboard cutout of Michael W. Smith standing in the ladies' (single unit) bathroom in the teachers' lounge at school. I strongly feel the need to cover myself up the entire time that I'm, um, taking care of business. I also blush furiously. I mean, friends may be friends forever, Michael, but even my closest ones don't watch me pee. And the only time I've ever even seen you was at Atlanta Fest when I was in junior high. This bathroom coziness might be a little much, don't you think?
***********************************************************************************
Wednesday, at the gym, I was talking to one of the guys who runs the place. He teaches my Buttz and Gutz class (yes, they spell them with z's; it's not really a classy establishment, but it's cheap) on Monday nights and does a great job; I attribute a lot of my toning up over the last year to him. Anyway, he offered to show me around the weight room a little in order to give me some more variety in my routine. I took him up on it yesterday.
We were just starting out, and he was showing me how to do the whole bench press thing (which, by the way, is the one thing I told Cal that I didn't want to do, but oh well). I knew I was in trouble when he told me to scoot back on the bench so that my, uh, well, .... they rhyme with 'ripples' ... line up with the bar. If that didn't embarrass me enough, he then proceeded to tell me just exactly how much I needed to scoot. "Keep going, keep going, keep going... there! that's it!" Uh, yeah.
You know a man invented a particular system when it requires using those as a unit of measurement.
8.22.2006
A new and more evil locker.
I fully and truly believe one thing: there will be no lockers in heaven.
Remember my first day of school story from three years ago? Remember how exhausted I was after my attempt to teach twenty 6th graders how to open locks? Let's just say that three years' experience hasn't helped any.
No, this year, as part of a building upgrade, we get locks that are built-in on the lockers. In theory, it's a great idea. The middle school bullies can't switch a poor kid's lock with someone else's, thus creating chaos during the four minutes we have between classes. Irresponsible students can't lose their locks and force the school to spend extra money replacing them.
However, the administration forgot to keep us, the four little unimportant 6th grade teachers, in mind when they made this decision. You see, the locks cause the lockers to lock. Automatically. You cannot get into a locker without knowing how to unlock a lock. And 6th graders are severely lacking in that ability.
After the Locker Fiasco of 2003, we decided to leave the locks off of the precious lockers until the kids were absolute experts at opening them. Problem solved. This year, however, not only did we have to teach them how to work the locks on the chaotic first day, but we had to teach them this skill at their lockers rather than in the relatively safe and comfortable confinement of our classrooms. Lockers that stretch, stacked one on top of the other, down a really long hall. A really long hall filled with 70 locker-giddy kids.
Giddy, that is, until they realized that they couldn't open their locks without listening carefully to their teachers.
We finally got it all settled with only a few remaining problems. We'd been given wrong combinations for a couple of the lockers, so those kids were out of luck for the day. Another student's lip trembled violently as I told him that the lock that had been installed upside down on his locker couldn't be fixed in the next 5 minutes. You think I'm kidding.
All of this craziness happened right around noon yesterday. It was a half-day, so I went home an hour later at 1, with the hall still filled with excited kids attempting (and mostly failing) to open their lockers so that they could decorate them with shelves and mirrors and stickers. The parents had shown up by that time, and grown men in business suits (obviously coming from work especially for this event) were breaking out their power tools and installing shelves. Leopard-trimmed mirrors -likely monogrammed, but I can't say for sure- littered the floor.
Janet called me at 3:15 when she left campus to tell me that several of the kids and their parents were still there working happily practicing the locks and decorating the 2-feet tall metal cubicles. THREE HOURS LATER.
Oh, if only I were exaggerating.
Remember my first day of school story from three years ago? Remember how exhausted I was after my attempt to teach twenty 6th graders how to open locks? Let's just say that three years' experience hasn't helped any.
No, this year, as part of a building upgrade, we get locks that are built-in on the lockers. In theory, it's a great idea. The middle school bullies can't switch a poor kid's lock with someone else's, thus creating chaos during the four minutes we have between classes. Irresponsible students can't lose their locks and force the school to spend extra money replacing them.
However, the administration forgot to keep us, the four little unimportant 6th grade teachers, in mind when they made this decision. You see, the locks cause the lockers to lock. Automatically. You cannot get into a locker without knowing how to unlock a lock. And 6th graders are severely lacking in that ability.
After the Locker Fiasco of 2003, we decided to leave the locks off of the precious lockers until the kids were absolute experts at opening them. Problem solved. This year, however, not only did we have to teach them how to work the locks on the chaotic first day, but we had to teach them this skill at their lockers rather than in the relatively safe and comfortable confinement of our classrooms. Lockers that stretch, stacked one on top of the other, down a really long hall. A really long hall filled with 70 locker-giddy kids.
Giddy, that is, until they realized that they couldn't open their locks without listening carefully to their teachers.
We finally got it all settled with only a few remaining problems. We'd been given wrong combinations for a couple of the lockers, so those kids were out of luck for the day. Another student's lip trembled violently as I told him that the lock that had been installed upside down on his locker couldn't be fixed in the next 5 minutes. You think I'm kidding.
All of this craziness happened right around noon yesterday. It was a half-day, so I went home an hour later at 1, with the hall still filled with excited kids attempting (and mostly failing) to open their lockers so that they could decorate them with shelves and mirrors and stickers. The parents had shown up by that time, and grown men in business suits (obviously coming from work especially for this event) were breaking out their power tools and installing shelves. Leopard-trimmed mirrors -likely monogrammed, but I can't say for sure- littered the floor.
Janet called me at 3:15 when she left campus to tell me that several of the kids and their parents were still there working happily practicing the locks and decorating the 2-feet tall metal cubicles. THREE HOURS LATER.
Oh, if only I were exaggerating.
Re: Watch out, Lance Armstrong.
Yes, I did it. I bought a bike. It's actually this one, although the image above is the factory picture. But it's this model (a Trek 7.2 FX), color, and everything. Mine's been ordered in my correct size and will be here in a week.I'm excited about it, even though it was a tough decision and a big purchase. What made me finally bite the bullet was realizing last night that the cost of the bike is, more or less, the amount I pay for a year of gym membership, and that doesn't seem so bad. And I hope this bike will last longer than a year.
Assuming, of course, that I have better luck on a bike than I do in a car. Right.
8.16.2006
A thief in our midst
My classroom at school is very dull. I'm not into the whole stereotypical teacher mentality of "Oh, wow, your bulletin board looks GREAT... can you give me tips on mine?" Some folks go all out; you should see our elementary building, for example. It's a Martha Stewart haven, a veritable -and colorful- feast for the eyes of the young children who spend their days there. It's unbelievable.
My room? Gray concrete walls, with the occasional grammar poster that I picked up on clearance at the school supply store three years ago or when a teacher was getting rid of things.
Except for two things: in my room, I had two very cool artists' renderings of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. Not the movie posters, mind you, but colorful and imaginative artwork. I was so excited when I ordered them off the Internet back when I started teaching. The kids love them and always speculate as to which characters each of the drawings represent.
Upon walking into my classroom this morning for the first time since June, however, I noticed immediately that they were gone. Gone! Everything else is right where I left it, including the thumb tacks that were holding the posters up.
I can't imagine the mindset of the person who would walk into someone's classroom and think, "Huh, those are pretty cool pictures, I think I'll take them." Anyway, I was pretty sad about it. Probably irrationally sad. I sent an all points bulletin for them over the school listserv.
Don't worry, I mentioned in my email that I realize and accept my status as a nerd, revealed in my begging for the return of my Lord of the Rings posters. Oh well. If my colleagues didn't know it already, it's time they learn.
So... if any of you come across some cool LotR posters, send them my way, will ya?
My room? Gray concrete walls, with the occasional grammar poster that I picked up on clearance at the school supply store three years ago or when a teacher was getting rid of things.
Except for two things: in my room, I had two very cool artists' renderings of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. Not the movie posters, mind you, but colorful and imaginative artwork. I was so excited when I ordered them off the Internet back when I started teaching. The kids love them and always speculate as to which characters each of the drawings represent.
Upon walking into my classroom this morning for the first time since June, however, I noticed immediately that they were gone. Gone! Everything else is right where I left it, including the thumb tacks that were holding the posters up.
I can't imagine the mindset of the person who would walk into someone's classroom and think, "Huh, those are pretty cool pictures, I think I'll take them." Anyway, I was pretty sad about it. Probably irrationally sad. I sent an all points bulletin for them over the school listserv.
Don't worry, I mentioned in my email that I realize and accept my status as a nerd, revealed in my begging for the return of my Lord of the Rings posters. Oh well. If my colleagues didn't know it already, it's time they learn.
So... if any of you come across some cool LotR posters, send them my way, will ya?
8.15.2006
Watch out, Lance Armstrong.
Ever heard the phrase, "Oh, it's just like riding a bike!"? It means something's easy, right? Like once you figure it out, you'll never not know how. When people say it, they're usually dismissing your concerns about whether or not you can do a particular activity.
I beg to differ with those folks.
If someone were to come up to me today and tell me that something was "just like riding a bike," I'd feel a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. My face might go pale or my knees weak as I started to equate the upcoming event with something difficult, like, oh I don't know... hunting down and killing Osama bin Laden in the caves of Afghanistan.
Over the past year, I've been trying to find some form of physical activity that I actually enjoy, something that will help me to look forward to the time of exercise that I currently dread everyday. I have never been an athlete; I'm fairly uncoordinated, and I'm as slow as a turtle. I have nightmares about being lapped by the other kids as we ran around the playground in 3rd grade PE. I was always picked last for kickball teams, and I'm the only one of my sisters who has ever broken a bone. I've broken four.
In other words, finding a sport that I enjoy is gonna take some time.
My latest attempt is riding bikes. The last time I rode a bike I was in the 2nd grade and I fell off and broke a wrist and busted my chin. I can still remember sitting in my Brownies meeting with my chin all bandaged up and a cast on my arm. Not a fond memory.
However, I decided that I should give it another try. I mean, it's a bike, right? Little kids do it. Surely I can ride a bike. It'll be just like, uh, riding a bike. (ha!)
Two weeks later, and I'm just in from my third go 'round. My legs are trembly, my breathing is labored, and my heart is beating a million times per minute. Oh! and I have scrapes on my pinky finger and my forearm where I ran into a stone archway thing as I was trying to turn a sharp corner. Better my arm getting beat up than Cal's bike, right? Right.
I'm not giving up, though. No sir. I will keep at this in the same way that I've (miraculously) stuck with the gym for an entire year. I will press on with tennis, too, and sign up for a beginner's clinic at the local tennis center this Fall so that patient friends won't have to keep putting up with my emotional breakdowns on the courts as they try to teach me the basics. (Yeah, okay, so I cried the first time we went to play. Stop laughing.)
Maybe, one day, I'll buy a bike of my own. For now, I think I'll take a tylenol and a nap. My pinky finger hurts.
I beg to differ with those folks.
If someone were to come up to me today and tell me that something was "just like riding a bike," I'd feel a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. My face might go pale or my knees weak as I started to equate the upcoming event with something difficult, like, oh I don't know... hunting down and killing Osama bin Laden in the caves of Afghanistan.
Over the past year, I've been trying to find some form of physical activity that I actually enjoy, something that will help me to look forward to the time of exercise that I currently dread everyday. I have never been an athlete; I'm fairly uncoordinated, and I'm as slow as a turtle. I have nightmares about being lapped by the other kids as we ran around the playground in 3rd grade PE. I was always picked last for kickball teams, and I'm the only one of my sisters who has ever broken a bone. I've broken four.
In other words, finding a sport that I enjoy is gonna take some time.
My latest attempt is riding bikes. The last time I rode a bike I was in the 2nd grade and I fell off and broke a wrist and busted my chin. I can still remember sitting in my Brownies meeting with my chin all bandaged up and a cast on my arm. Not a fond memory.
However, I decided that I should give it another try. I mean, it's a bike, right? Little kids do it. Surely I can ride a bike. It'll be just like, uh, riding a bike. (ha!)
Two weeks later, and I'm just in from my third go 'round. My legs are trembly, my breathing is labored, and my heart is beating a million times per minute. Oh! and I have scrapes on my pinky finger and my forearm where I ran into a stone archway thing as I was trying to turn a sharp corner. Better my arm getting beat up than Cal's bike, right? Right.
I'm not giving up, though. No sir. I will keep at this in the same way that I've (miraculously) stuck with the gym for an entire year. I will press on with tennis, too, and sign up for a beginner's clinic at the local tennis center this Fall so that patient friends won't have to keep putting up with my emotional breakdowns on the courts as they try to teach me the basics. (Yeah, okay, so I cried the first time we went to play. Stop laughing.)
Maybe, one day, I'll buy a bike of my own. For now, I think I'll take a tylenol and a nap. My pinky finger hurts.
8.10.2006
My summer, in bullet format.
- Books read: 6
- Best (or at least most thought-provoking) book read: Blue Like Jazz. I've been wanting to read it for some time, and I'm glad I did. Most of y'all probably read it long ago. I'd be interested to hear your thoughts.
- Best purchase: My lilac vintage dress, found while shopping in Athens with Rebecca, who convinced me (so rightly) to buy it. I love it.
- Most exciting event: Cal moving in down the street.
- Most fear-inducing event: Cal moving in down the street.
- Most convenient coincidence: Rebecca's plans to come to Athens on the same weekend that I wanted to go.
- # of Chick-fil-A Cookies-n-Cream milkshakes consumed: Countless
- # of gym visits: 3
- # of pounds gained: 5
- # of pounds to be lost before Courtney's fun, formal wedding reception on Sept 9: 10 (ha!)
- Strangest and cheesiest weekend: Yearbook Camp in Atlanta. I'm not lying. 3 days of Yearbook hype. Gag me with a spoon.
- Churches attended: 6, five of which were in Macon. The search for a Baptist/Presbyterian compromise continues.
- Trips planned: 7
- Trips taken: 3, not including those back and forth to Florida and Thomasville while the move was going on at the beginning of the summer. One to Athens, one to Atlanta (for the yearbook camp), and one to Sautee in NE Georgia to visit my grandparents.
- Regrets: None! I wouldn't have changed a thing!
2 months and 5 pounds later...
... I'm back.
How in the world did the summer pass so quickly? Last year, the time off was my chance to shine on this blog thing, as I had no real obligations and tons of adventures to share. This year, I lost my blogging inspiration, for some reason. Maybe I needed the break? I don't know.
I don't want to do the blah "here's what's been happening" blog that I seem to have gotten stuck on lately. I'm racking my brain trying to think of something creative to write about. I can't. Hmph.
School starts back for me Wednesday, and the kids will arrive the Monday following that. Usually this time of year, I'm looking forward to the routine of it all; this year, I'm not so sure. I am ready to get back to eating and working out normally... the summer and its excess has brought with it five pounds for me to carry around everywhere. Ugh.
However, it seems too early to start a new schoolyear. I didn't go see Kelly's new baby! I didn't make it to Jackson to see Meredith! Asheville never happened, although on one of the two trips I did take, I got to see Rebecca in Athens. Savannah remained unvisited, and last year's "Tour of Countries" by way of international restaurants with Beth was thus unrepeated.
You know, though? It's okay. I think maybe I needed a summer off from traveling; I traveled all year long last schoolyear, back and forth to Florida to see Cal. It's been nice being able to stay put in Macon for several weekends in a row. I've gotten several books read, which is a luxury. And how great has it been having Cal here?!? He bought a great house two doors down from me (unplanned, by the way), and we've spent the summer learning how to live so close to each other as he's gotten settled in.
We joke that his living two doors down and working at the same school could either be really good or really bad. Praying for really good. From 320 miles apart to 1/20 of a mile? Quite a transition. We're handling it well, so far, I think.
So, in less than a week I'll be back to the grind. The early waking hour will hurt, for sure, but it'll be nice to see the coworkers and friends that get put aside during the months off of work. I'm grateful for a job where I have this break, and I still don't know how you folks with "real jobs" do it. I'm hoping to stay caught up (and become more creative) with my posts as my life becomes more active in the next month.
For now... back to Regis and Kelly. Rick Springfield is singing "Jesse's Girl"!
How in the world did the summer pass so quickly? Last year, the time off was my chance to shine on this blog thing, as I had no real obligations and tons of adventures to share. This year, I lost my blogging inspiration, for some reason. Maybe I needed the break? I don't know.
I don't want to do the blah "here's what's been happening" blog that I seem to have gotten stuck on lately. I'm racking my brain trying to think of something creative to write about. I can't. Hmph.
School starts back for me Wednesday, and the kids will arrive the Monday following that. Usually this time of year, I'm looking forward to the routine of it all; this year, I'm not so sure. I am ready to get back to eating and working out normally... the summer and its excess has brought with it five pounds for me to carry around everywhere. Ugh.
However, it seems too early to start a new schoolyear. I didn't go see Kelly's new baby! I didn't make it to Jackson to see Meredith! Asheville never happened, although on one of the two trips I did take, I got to see Rebecca in Athens. Savannah remained unvisited, and last year's "Tour of Countries" by way of international restaurants with Beth was thus unrepeated.
You know, though? It's okay. I think maybe I needed a summer off from traveling; I traveled all year long last schoolyear, back and forth to Florida to see Cal. It's been nice being able to stay put in Macon for several weekends in a row. I've gotten several books read, which is a luxury. And how great has it been having Cal here?!? He bought a great house two doors down from me (unplanned, by the way), and we've spent the summer learning how to live so close to each other as he's gotten settled in.
We joke that his living two doors down and working at the same school could either be really good or really bad. Praying for really good. From 320 miles apart to 1/20 of a mile? Quite a transition. We're handling it well, so far, I think.
So, in less than a week I'll be back to the grind. The early waking hour will hurt, for sure, but it'll be nice to see the coworkers and friends that get put aside during the months off of work. I'm grateful for a job where I have this break, and I still don't know how you folks with "real jobs" do it. I'm hoping to stay caught up (and become more creative) with my posts as my life becomes more active in the next month.
For now... back to Regis and Kelly. Rick Springfield is singing "Jesse's Girl"!
7.12.2006
Something small to appease the masses.
Sorry to not give more now. I've been busy! Here are pictures, though: one of my fun Athens friends, and another of my Macon crowd (including its newest and most handsome addition, of course. Gag with the cheese, I know.). I think they're all just fabulous and lovely. And hurrah! We went and ate Indian food in Macon on my birthday! Whoever said Maconites aren't cool just hadn't met the right ones yet. Yes, I'm including myself in that vague "whoever"...
6.19.2006
Thanks, Bryan, for making me sad.
I just read/viewed Bryan's post on the trip that he took with Val, Oren, and Thomas to Tallulah Gorge. All of a sudden I'm feeling a deep sense of homesickness for my Athens days with my Mellow Mushroom friends.
I'll come up there soon. I need to come up there soon, for a too-long-delayed rejuvenation that only Athens can bring. Any weekends that are particularly bad for those of you still there?
I'll come up there soon. I need to come up there soon, for a too-long-delayed rejuvenation that only Athens can bring. Any weekends that are particularly bad for those of you still there?
6.14.2006
Update
Tidbits of my life of late:
- Tuesday, June 6. School's out for the summer. Hurray!
- Wednesday June 7 - Yesterday, June 13. Cal and I hunt for houses in Macon the entire week, barring my Jury Duty stint on Monday. Did I get picked for that Jury Duty? Of course. One of 12 out of 100 people. Just my luck. Sat and listened to the tale of a lady and her daughter who swore up and down that a car accident over 2 years ago injured their necks and lower backs and that they should be compensated. We decided that it was all a big scam and pretty much awarded them nothing. All very interesting, actually, to watch the proceedings of the judicial system. Interesting for one day, that is. Glad I didn't have to be there any longer.
- Wednesday, June 14. Happy Birthday to me!! I head to Thomasville, then catch a ride with Cal to Florida to help him pack up his house. He's moving Friday. He has very few boxes. I, the Presbyterian, am recruited by Cal, the Baptist, to enter the entire span of liquor stores in the Fort Walton Beach area. Works well, actually, as most of the liquor store managers are skanky, old men, much more willing to bestow their precious boxes upon a young (ahem, 28 IS still young) female than a not-so-young (29 is getting on up there) male. Needless to say, we now have plenty of boxes. Yes sir!
- Tomorrow will consist of box-packing, and Friday will be filled with loading up the Uhaul truck and driving back to Thomasville.
All in all, a busy couple of weeks. Looking forward to using the rest of my summer to make visits to Asheville. And Charlotte. And Jackson. And Savannah. And anywhere else that might include friends!
Congrats to jras and her new little baby girl, Elena, by the way. I can't wait to meet her!
5.30.2006
Photo Shoot
Saturday morning, I got up at 5 am. Why in the world?, you ask. Well, it was for my very first professional photo shoot! What in the world?, you ask.
I was down in Fort Walton visiting Cal for perhaps my very last time before he moves to Macon. Because it was my last visit, and because he won't be there much longer, and because he's an incredibly thoughtful guy, he set up a beach photo shoot with one of his photographer friends. And it was all his idea!
We had a BLAST in spite of the early hour (which was for sun/lighting purposes), and the pictures turned out great. It's amazing what a professional can do, huh? Anyway, I'm including a sample below; these are only a few out of the 250+ that she took.
My mom would probably say that it's vain of me to post these under the assumption that you all want to see them. But you do want to see them, right??? Especially since most of you haven't even met Cal!
I was down in Fort Walton visiting Cal for perhaps my very last time before he moves to Macon. Because it was my last visit, and because he won't be there much longer, and because he's an incredibly thoughtful guy, he set up a beach photo shoot with one of his photographer friends. And it was all his idea!
We had a BLAST in spite of the early hour (which was for sun/lighting purposes), and the pictures turned out great. It's amazing what a professional can do, huh? Anyway, I'm including a sample below; these are only a few out of the 250+ that she took.
My mom would probably say that it's vain of me to post these under the assumption that you all want to see them. But you do want to see them, right??? Especially since most of you haven't even met Cal!
5.18.2006
The whole "pride cometh before a fall" issue again.
Yeah, so apparently my fame is too widespread after my run-in with the radio business this morning. The United States Government found me this afternoon with a jury summons. When do I report? My very first, official day of summer, June-the-stinkin'-12th. My birthday week. 9 am.
Shut up.
Shut up.
Fame!!
Because he's a sportswriter, Cal's kind of a local celebrity down in Ft. Walton Beach. He's been on the radio a few times, namely this morning show with two radio personalities, Scratch and Lauri.
Apparently, one of the running jokes between the three of them (and all of their listeners) is that Lauri, a married woman with two kids, has a huge "Mrs. Robinson"-like crush on Cal. For Christmas, the Daily News sent over to her a poster-sized, autographed picture of him. Pretty funny.
Anyway, since he's leaving town to move up to Macon, Scratch and Lauri had him on as a guest DJ for a couple of hours this morning. I've been wanting a recording of when he's been on the radio, but Cal has insisted time and time again that he doesn't know how to get me one.
So... I emailed Scratch. And guess what?!? They read my email on the air this morning! I'm famous! I got an email back from Lauri a few minutes ago, and they're going to send me some mp3 files of the morning's broadcast. Hurray! Maybe I'll post some of it here, if it's not copywrited.
In the meantime, I'll gladly accept cash or personal check for the autographs that I know you're wanting.
HAHA!!
Apparently, one of the running jokes between the three of them (and all of their listeners) is that Lauri, a married woman with two kids, has a huge "Mrs. Robinson"-like crush on Cal. For Christmas, the Daily News sent over to her a poster-sized, autographed picture of him. Pretty funny.
Anyway, since he's leaving town to move up to Macon, Scratch and Lauri had him on as a guest DJ for a couple of hours this morning. I've been wanting a recording of when he's been on the radio, but Cal has insisted time and time again that he doesn't know how to get me one.
So... I emailed Scratch. And guess what?!? They read my email on the air this morning! I'm famous! I got an email back from Lauri a few minutes ago, and they're going to send me some mp3 files of the morning's broadcast. Hurray! Maybe I'll post some of it here, if it's not copywrited.
In the meantime, I'll gladly accept cash or personal check for the autographs that I know you're wanting.
HAHA!!
Happy Anniversary to me!
One day late, though. Yesterday, you see, marked one year from when I started this silly little blog.
Oh, how things have changed between then and now. More on that to come later, perhaps.
(not anything exciting more, I should clarify, just maybe a commentary on the good things that have changed and the bad things that have changed. I don't know. Maybe not. We'll see if I'm inspired later.)
Oh, how things have changed between then and now. More on that to come later, perhaps.
(not anything exciting more, I should clarify, just maybe a commentary on the good things that have changed and the bad things that have changed. I don't know. Maybe not. We'll see if I'm inspired later.)
5.15.2006
A New Vocation
I thought I'd start out my successful career in real estate* with some free advertising. Just to show my abilities, you know. So...
Anyone want to buy a cute house on a corner lot in Florida, not 5 miles or so from the Gulf Coast? The sooner he sells, the sooner he moves!
Anyone want to buy a charming, brick house with a great, midtown location in Macon? Gently owned by my very anxious-to-sell sister and brother-in-law! Fantastic interior colors!
Anyone want to buy an elegant, traditional home in the heart of Greenwood, SC? Kitchen and upstairs newly repainted by my mother and sister (a different one) and brother-in-law!
*kidding about the real estate thing. Not kidding about the houses for sale.
Anyone want to buy a cute house on a corner lot in Florida, not 5 miles or so from the Gulf Coast? The sooner he sells, the sooner he moves!
Anyone want to buy a charming, brick house with a great, midtown location in Macon? Gently owned by my very anxious-to-sell sister and brother-in-law! Fantastic interior colors!
Anyone want to buy an elegant, traditional home in the heart of Greenwood, SC? Kitchen and upstairs newly repainted by my mother and sister (a different one) and brother-in-law!
*kidding about the real estate thing. Not kidding about the houses for sale.
5.13.2006
5.10.2006
A weekend in Vegas and a groovin' Asian Wednesday
Before you all freak out, thinking that Miriam has moved to Macon and turned into a chronic gambler -going to Vegas twice in one year and everything- I should say that I didn't really spend my weekend in Vegas.
I just pretended like I did. Elizabeth and I both pretended, that is.
We accepted an offer to housesit for a colleague of mine. I say housesit, but I should probably say mansionsit. This colleague and her husband live out on the lucrative Lake Tobesofkee in a house whose master bathroom is bigger than my whole apartment. Heck, its master shower is bigger than my whole apartment. You think I'm kidding. You think wrong.
We each took a suite of rooms in the downstairs "basement", which includes two suites (two bedrooms with views of the lake and a bathroom in each), a HUGE common room with an L-shaped cushy suede couch, a bigger-than-big-screen television (with dvd/vcr/stereo combo, of course) a kitchen, a pool table, and a computer/office area. This is just the basement, mind you.
Elizabeth and I each had busy weekends planned, but we did get to watch Walk the Line on the tv (Johnny Cash was life-size, by the way) and catch some sun on the dock Saturday morning. We even opted to skip Sunday School Sunday morning (gasp!) in order to truly make our extravagant vacation feel real. We felt like we were reliving our Vegas weekend that took place this time last year. Alas... we were only 2 miles off of Eisenhower Parkway, one of the busiest roads in Macon. Oh well.
In other, more exotic news...
Tonight, I attempted my very first Yoga class, much to my anti-yoga mother's dismay, I'm sure. She's been warning me for months that I'll just be opening my mind up to all sorts of demons and satanic forces by trying "that new age stuff". Well, I hope I can put her mind at ease somewhat by telling her that this class was different from most. There was no new age music, no clearing our minds, no deep breathing.
Nope, this was Groove Yoga ("basic yoga moves set to rockin music"). It was me, another girl my age who had never done yoga before, and a 28-year-old teacher who happened to be about 7 months pregnant. I LOVED it. LOVED it. This is only the second thing I can say that about with this gym thing, the first being my Monday/Friday night "Buttz and Gutz" class (yes, spelled with z's.)
Anyway, Groove Yoga is only scheduled for 2 more weeks after this one, unless the other class member and I can convince the gym folks to keep it on. Maybe we can recruit more folks for next week. Next month's new class? "Shake your Assets". Ha! Again, not kidding.
Speaking of things Asian (yoga and such), I just watched a bit of The Amazing Race. I've never seen it before, but these folks were in Thailand, and two of the guys were eating fried crickets and grasshoppers. Gross.
Also, my best childhood friend (Kelly) and her husband (Daniel) had their first little baby, Luke James, last Friday night. Congratulations to them! (by the way, Kelly's brother used to live in Thailand. How's that for connecting it all together?)
I just pretended like I did. Elizabeth and I both pretended, that is.
We accepted an offer to housesit for a colleague of mine. I say housesit, but I should probably say mansionsit. This colleague and her husband live out on the lucrative Lake Tobesofkee in a house whose master bathroom is bigger than my whole apartment. Heck, its master shower is bigger than my whole apartment. You think I'm kidding. You think wrong.
We each took a suite of rooms in the downstairs "basement", which includes two suites (two bedrooms with views of the lake and a bathroom in each), a HUGE common room with an L-shaped cushy suede couch, a bigger-than-big-screen television (with dvd/vcr/stereo combo, of course) a kitchen, a pool table, and a computer/office area. This is just the basement, mind you.
Elizabeth and I each had busy weekends planned, but we did get to watch Walk the Line on the tv (Johnny Cash was life-size, by the way) and catch some sun on the dock Saturday morning. We even opted to skip Sunday School Sunday morning (gasp!) in order to truly make our extravagant vacation feel real. We felt like we were reliving our Vegas weekend that took place this time last year. Alas... we were only 2 miles off of Eisenhower Parkway, one of the busiest roads in Macon. Oh well.
In other, more exotic news...
Tonight, I attempted my very first Yoga class, much to my anti-yoga mother's dismay, I'm sure. She's been warning me for months that I'll just be opening my mind up to all sorts of demons and satanic forces by trying "that new age stuff". Well, I hope I can put her mind at ease somewhat by telling her that this class was different from most. There was no new age music, no clearing our minds, no deep breathing.
Nope, this was Groove Yoga ("basic yoga moves set to rockin music"). It was me, another girl my age who had never done yoga before, and a 28-year-old teacher who happened to be about 7 months pregnant. I LOVED it. LOVED it. This is only the second thing I can say that about with this gym thing, the first being my Monday/Friday night "Buttz and Gutz" class (yes, spelled with z's.)
Anyway, Groove Yoga is only scheduled for 2 more weeks after this one, unless the other class member and I can convince the gym folks to keep it on. Maybe we can recruit more folks for next week. Next month's new class? "Shake your Assets". Ha! Again, not kidding.
Speaking of things Asian (yoga and such), I just watched a bit of The Amazing Race. I've never seen it before, but these folks were in Thailand, and two of the guys were eating fried crickets and grasshoppers. Gross.
Also, my best childhood friend (Kelly) and her husband (Daniel) had their first little baby, Luke James, last Friday night. Congratulations to them! (by the way, Kelly's brother used to live in Thailand. How's that for connecting it all together?)
5.03.2006
Sad News
My little cat, Pip, was killed last night after being hit by a car. Janet found her this morning and called my sister and brother-in-law, who came over and moved her before I saw her. Nick doesn't seem to know yet; he's still his same old fat, lazy self. I suspect he'll figure it out soon enough. So... this one's for Pip!
4.30.2006
Things I learned this weekend
While house-hunting with Cal (for HIM, not US) in Macon:
-Realtors are an interesting breed indeed.
-There are more houses in Macon than one could ever imagine. I saw entire areas of the town that I never knew existed.
-According to the number of House for Sale signs here, everyone is leaving. And no one is coming. (with the exception of Anna! and Cal!)
-People have strange taste in decor. One house, built by its previous owners, had two tiny little kitchens: one in (literally) the den, and one in (literally) the bedroom. Is that so that the den can borrow sugar from the bedroom when it runs out?
-The world doesn't want teachers to be able to buy houses. There's no way I could afford anything worth owning on my salary. Oh well.
*************************************************************************************
Dating a sportswriter has its advantages. One is that he has some awesome ticket connections. We had fourth row (lower level) seats on the third base line at last night's Braves game. For free! Plus VIP passes to the 755 Club, which is some swanky restaurant/bar/lounge area similar to the skyboxes at Sanford Stadium.
We also got to meet up with Aaron Heilman, a relief pitcher for the Mets, after the game. He played baseball at Notre Dame with one of Cal's friends. Pretty cool, huh? Ignore the fact that we looked like dwarves in comparison, please.
*************************************************************************************
Laryngitis is kinda fun the first time or two you have it, but by the fourth bout in one season, it's highly aggravating.
*************************************************************************************
Springer Spaniel puppies are incredibly adorable.
-Realtors are an interesting breed indeed.
-There are more houses in Macon than one could ever imagine. I saw entire areas of the town that I never knew existed.
-According to the number of House for Sale signs here, everyone is leaving. And no one is coming. (with the exception of Anna! and Cal!)
-People have strange taste in decor. One house, built by its previous owners, had two tiny little kitchens: one in (literally) the den, and one in (literally) the bedroom. Is that so that the den can borrow sugar from the bedroom when it runs out?
-The world doesn't want teachers to be able to buy houses. There's no way I could afford anything worth owning on my salary. Oh well.
*************************************************************************************
Dating a sportswriter has its advantages. One is that he has some awesome ticket connections. We had fourth row (lower level) seats on the third base line at last night's Braves game. For free! Plus VIP passes to the 755 Club, which is some swanky restaurant/bar/lounge area similar to the skyboxes at Sanford Stadium.
We also got to meet up with Aaron Heilman, a relief pitcher for the Mets, after the game. He played baseball at Notre Dame with one of Cal's friends. Pretty cool, huh? Ignore the fact that we looked like dwarves in comparison, please.*************************************************************************************
Laryngitis is kinda fun the first time or two you have it, but by the fourth bout in one season, it's highly aggravating.
*************************************************************************************
Springer Spaniel puppies are incredibly adorable.
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