No One's Perfect

Source: tumblr.com via Powell's on Pinterest

As a friend, sometimes we have to put on a strong face.
It's an unscripted duty to be happy for others in their shining moment, even when it hurts our own hearts, because it's the reputable thing to do.

Source: blog.whitneyenglish.com via Hannah on Pinterest

As a friend, sometimes we cry together, but more frequently laugh.
Gut wrenching stitches are derived from both ends of the spectrum, an inevitable part of living.

Source: janrickmerso.tumblr.com via Megan on Pinterest

As a friend, we have volunteered to be a support system.
The simple offering of oneself, even if in mere silence, may help keep someone else from falling apart.

Source: quotediary.me via Mandy on Pinterest

As a friend, sometimes I feel guilty for struggling to do these things, but I know that only makes me human.
All I can do is strive each day for reclaimed nobility.

Source: oprah.com via National Women's History Museum (NWHM) on Pinterest

We all stumble.

But that's why we have eachother, as friends, for balance.

The D is Silent (Project Pretty Week 2)

(Project pretty is a personal commitment to share my weekly journey of keeping my non-New-Year's-Resolution: staying fit to improve quality of life while inspiring others to do the same. Let's all jump on the endorphin wagon!)

Back when Callie was an only dog-child, I always wanted to get another so she could have a canine companion to play with and keep her company for those times when Patrick or myself couldn't be around. When Sumo first came along, Callie despised having to share. She snubbed him in every way. But that boy is a born lover with perseverance and eventually wedged his way into her stubbornly selfish little heart. Now they're a conniving team, combining their individual strengths, weaknesses, and cute-factors to get whatever it is they want. You know that term "two is better than one"? Well, sometimes it's true, and sometimes it's just a pain in the ass. 

You see, my dogs know the difference between regular shoes and running shoes, work clothes and work-out clothes. They know what a damn sports bra is. They even have telepathic powers that can detect when I so much as think the words "outside, walk, or run". They're also full size, athletic yorkies, leaving me with no excuse to leave them behind if I know I'm only going a few miles.

And as much as I enjoy their adorable passion for smelling their way through the world while pretending they're on a mission to hunt down anything that moves, sometimes it's nice to just go out by my lonesome. Liberating is actually a more acutely accurate word. 

So I pushed my guilt aside, had Patrick distract the fur babies, and snuck out to hit the pavement; just me and my Black Keys Radio for the next 45 minutes. Those 4 miles were all about feeling focused (ya, I'm a bit pokey), and I loved every minute of it. (My knees however, did not, and I was forced to walk backwards down the stairs for the next 2 days, despite my prophalactic icing.)

I followed up that me-time with going to the movies for the first time in ages, accompanied by my lil bro to see Django Unchained (the "D" is silent......which I didn't know, and must have sounded like a fool when I bought our tickets) and ate my weight in popcorn smothered with delectable liquid cholesterol.  Quentin Tarantino might have outdone himself on this one; I can't even remember the last time I watched a movie so good. It literally was so captivating, I didn't even notice it was 3 hours long until we got in the car and I had to ask Dusty if his truck clock was correct.

What's the last best movie you saw??

I was Right! I was Right!!

Remember that time Patrick made me feel completely foolish and ashamed for throwing a "hook'em" sign instead of a "rock on" sign? We debated on which hand gesture meant what, my argument being his idea of the "rock on" sign actually meant "I love you". 

source

Being wrong continued to torment me, so I began to research the subject; I don't know why it didn't don on me before. As it turns out, I was indeed, correct. And although used by Texas University for their slogan of "hook'em horns", Patrick was just as much wrong as he was correct. The gesture is called the "sign of horns" or "corna" or "devil horns", a superstitious sign in some cultures, a satanic sign in others, but has been used in pop culture in association with rock and heavy metal dating all the way back to the later 60's early 70's. 

source

Ronnie James Dio with the band Black Sabbith, was the first to establish the now traditional association. (If Black Sabbith is on my side, I must be right......right?)

source

Patrick wasn't the first to get the 2 confused though. When The Beatles album Yellow Submarines came out, people thought maybe John Lennon got befuddled and meant to pose with the hand gesture "I love you". And if you search images on the web, you'll find the two different gestures harmoniously mingling together. 

source

But for us now better educated folks, we can be sure of 2 things: 

1. There's is a difference between the "I love you" sign and "Rock on" sign.

2. There is NOT a difference between the "Rock on" sign and "Hook'em" sign. 

(If you're still stupefied, the very last image is the "I love you" sign, all the rest meaning "rock on"......or for that fraction of the population out there that wish to cheer on the Texas Longhorns, "hook'em")

Ahhh......the sweet taste of victory. Feels good to be right. 

P.S. I wont hold it against you, Hunny, for calling me out. After all, it's a common misconception.

P.P.S. Na-na na-na boo boo!!! Go stick your head in doo doo!  

Sources: here, here, and here

How easily will you bow your head in defeat when someone tells you you're wrong?

Project Pretty (Week 1)

Whether or not it classifies me as a certified snob, I don't make New Year resolutions because I find it severely clique. Oh ya.......also because 99% of the population never follows through with them and the last thing I need is another statistic to fall into. But I was thinking it would be fun and self propelling to start a new project (agh-humm.....fake cough.....NOT a resolution) for 2013. 

I shall call it Project Pretty. 

No matter how I actually appear on the outside, I feel much more confident, when I do something to get my body moving. On the inside I feel accomplished; on the outside my image in the mirror shrinks from a size 9 to a size 6 (not that size matters, but perception is everything). A smile comes more easily when floating through a sea of endorphins, and although I know all of these things, sometimes I still need a little motivation to steer clear of a rut.

So from now on, I'm going to dedicate one post a week to physical activity and see where it leads.......hopefully no where dreadfully mundane. 

 This week I bundled up the dogs and took cousin A to a running trail nestled in the Spring Creek Natural Area. It's right down the road from our home and walking distance from Patrick's work. Pretty corporate buildings on the outskirts, beautiful outdoor scenery on the inside. In other words, the best of both worlds, minus the road noise.....but who hears road noise when they're jamming to their favorite motivating tunes?

On a random note, I'm stoked to find this place, since it means I now have a pretty park close by with lots of shade to run in when the dreaded summer months inevitably make their appearance this year.

Do you listen to different styles of music depending on what kind of workout you're doing? Pandora or playlist? 

Are my Buds Predujice?

If you ever come to my home and look in the refrigerator, there's a few things that will ALWAYS be there: way too many condiments, cheeses of all kinds, and tea.  I've been drinking sweet tea instead of water for as long as I can remember......a dentist's nightmare I imagine. 

source

When I was growing up, my dad always carried this big black plastic Texaco thermos around with him everywhere. Two acres of land with wide open surroundings can seem like a very big place to a little girl, but I always knew where to find my dad's drink.

I don't know if it was the mug, or because it was my father's and not mine, but ice tea always tasted the best coming from that thing. It was always the perfect temperature, with just the right flavor, and poured out at just the right gulping speed. It didn't matter if I had my own glass; if his was around it was my hydration of choice. 

I got my first taste of beer from that mug. I had a feeling it drove him crazy that he couldn't ever have a drink to himself without some "skillet licker" (one of his many affectionate nicknames he had for my brother and me) slobbering all over his favorite cup, but I didn't care. On one hot summer day, I hastily wrapped my grubby tomboy hands around the robust body of the magic mug while my dad wasn't looking, took a big gulp and BAM!!

 What the deuce was that? That didn't taste anything like what I was expecting.........my dad's beloved tea. It was bubbly and smelly and tasted like bug spray. I spit it out as fast as I could, but couldn't shake the lingering bitterness.  "Gross!! What was that?!?!?" I whined. 

"Beer."
My dad. The man of few words, unless it's something he really cares about. Then he has plenty of words, as long as you give him hours to days for contemplating his response between exchanges. 

"Why didn't you tell me?!?"

"Shouldn't have been drinking it anyway."

Touche, dad. Touche. 

I guess you're wondering where I'm going with this?

Why does coffee always taste better when coming from a Starbucks cup? If I close my eyes and try not to think about the origin, I'm pretty certain mine tastes very similar......I actually make it with the same syrups Starbucks does and use the same techniques........but that darn cup changes the whole impression on my taste buds.
The same phenomenon happens when my mom makes gravy. 

I'm just baffled here. 

Are your taste buds prejudice or bias?

Favorites

The blogger world has been swamped with people writing "favorite things posts" from twenty twelve, so I thought for a moment about following suit, because like my sticker to the right proclaims, "Sometimes it's okay to be a follower."

But when I got to contemplating my own list, it turns out I don't have a particular favorite. The things I write about are the highlights of my life. Whether it be a lazy day at the house, a well executed craft, a much deserved vacation, getting blown away by an awesome concert, or even an unplanned mishap, they all play a role in who I was, who I am, and who I'll become. 

Besides, with things like this happening in my house on a daily basis (yes, those are panties on my husband's head and a greasy haired dog-do)...........

.....and needlessly suspensive moments like this one, when I realized my car was running on fumes with not a gas station in site (I debated even showing this picture out of pure embarrassment that my dash is covered in dust, but hey, such is real life).......how can they not all be my favorite?

P.S. If I absolutely had to choose a favorite part, I'd say it was sharing all those moments with my best friend, my love, my husband. 

Did you make a New Year's Resolution?

New Year Lessons

Starting at the ripe old age of 18 I starting work in the Trauma unit, and quickly became conditioned to seeing a slew of horrible things happen to people of all ages. I kept at it for a few years, since then moving on to somewhat happier places, but I didn't move on without a few lessons ingraining in my memory, a couple being: 1. Youth is not invincible. 2. It's best to just stay off the roads during the holidays. 

Also, please be safe and don't attempt this at home. No injuries occurred in the making of this post, but it's poor practice to pose for pictures while using sharp motorized objects. 

I learned a couple of things at the White House NYE slumber party:
1. I am terrible at trivia if it doesn't involve multiple choice.
2. I never want to play the game Trivial Pursuit of the 90's ever again because it made me feel like I have an IQ of 20 or less. 

 Pocahontas and her wind-pant wearing husband blew me away with their legit knowledge on what I have always considered to be useless information, but at this moment, I was severely jealous that I too wasn't full of expendable facts of decades past. 

What I am full of, is love for this guy. 

And I guess there's room for Bobby and Sumo to squeeze in too. 

We've been saying for months we wanted to sing Karaoke, so we finally got around to a ghetto home version. 

And boy did we get in to it!

While we channeled our inner rocker, the boys mostly watched......

Prolly admiring how amazingly talented we are.......

All that dancing really worked up an appetite, so we made nachos and cookies to revamp the enthusiasm.

And before we knew it, it was well past everyone's bed time. 4 am to be exact. 

3. The older I get the longer it takes to recover from an all-nighter. (You'd think I'd know this by now, but apparently it's taking me a while to let this particular lesson soak in, since it hasn't stopped me yet.)

Do you enjoy Trivial Pursuit or any other trivia games? Karaoke: yay or nay?

Breaking Tradition

One day in early 2006, a brand new couple was cruising down the highway when then the following conversation happened:

Guy: I'm hungry, want to go eat somewhere?

Girl: Sure! Where do you want to go?

Guy: You pick.

Girl: I really don't care; you pick.

Guy: No, no, no. It's okay, you can pick wherever you want to go.

Girl: Seriously, it's your turn, I always pick. You pick. 

Guy: Okay, how about Olive Garden?

Girl: If you want Italian, let's go to Carraba's we just passed one.

Guy: I KNEW IT! I knew you really weren't going to let me pick! I don't even know why I tried!

Girl: It's still Italian. Why go to Olive Garden when there's better right down the road?

Guy: Erroneous. 

And I feel the same about Dominos.
We all know I call a lot of shots; it's in my blood. 

So it's become tradition that we never go. Like literally have not been to either in the history of our relationship. And when he's ranting, the subject inevitably seeps out of the water works. 

But for the birthday boy, I sacrificed my opinions for his happiness and surprised him at work with Dominos pizza for lunch. What better day to break a tradition than on a traditional day of celebration?

His face lit up so big, the people he worked with might not have even recognized him. 

And later the next evening I blindfolded him, drove him around in circles to disorient his sense of direction, and took him to the restaurant he's been raving about for the last 7 years. I thanked my lucky stars when we got out of the car and the aroma of Hooters next door and sound of live music down the road threw his senses off even further.

Patrick is a terrible sport when blindfolded. I literally I had to drag him through the parking lot, then contain his unnecessarily wild extremities from knocking anything over once in the restaurant. 

He didn't make it easy on any of us to keep such a big secret, but I think we all pulled it off pretty well.
That morning I almost ruined everything as we were lying in bed and I blurted, "We need to get a birthday card for your sister." Which I quickly followed up with a damage control statement, "To mail her. It will be late, but it's the thought that counts."
"What are you talking about? You know we don't do that. We just call each other."
"I know, but I just thought we'd be extra nice this year." Dang it, woman, pull yourself together!

That evening as I frantically ran around trying to get ready, Patrick yelled up the stairs, "Hey Hunny! Olive Garden called, wondering why you haven't shown up for your reservations yet!"

"They did?" Crap! You know better than to fall for that lie! Your phone is in the upstairs bathroom.  "No they didn't! We don't have reservations at Olive Garden! I told you earlier, just because you keep saying it over and over again isn't going to make it come true!"

I don't know if he really was surprised by the restaurant (even though he promises he was completely kidding when he was pretending to know), but I do know he was super surprised to see his family, which made his night. 

But why stop there?

We were all surprised to read the icing script on the cookie cake. "Happy Day OFF BRITH" What in the world? I think the bakery ladies need to slow it down with those special brownies.......

And we were super surprised when Dusty did something silly all by himself! 

But not very when he feel asleep on the couch in the middle of all the commotion. Oh that chronically sleepy brother of mine......

After some quality family time, our Waco clan went home, but not before our infamous self-timer family shot. 

We finished off a great night of celebration by bundling up to take the doggies on a stroll (I get fancy with my eclectic fashion for dog walks).....

.....and a cup of HoCho smothered in mini-marshmallows while watching.......

....wait for it.....

....wait for it.....

Ted. 

Again. 

Do you have a particular movie you like to watch over and over and over again?

Free Man

My plan was for Patrick's birthday to be full of surprises, which required me to be very vague in conversation, keep a spotless text message inbox, and tell a few white lies over the last week. I had him convinced we were going to look at sunglasses when he got home from work, but instead had a set of going out clothes laying on the bed and scared the crap out of him when he walked through the door by having 4 people scream "Surprise!!!!"

What I didn't plan was for the 4 of us to be twinkies for the night!! I laughed so hard when my accidental mirror image arrived: crimped hair, index finger ring, little black dress, scarf, black boots. I laughed even harder when I realized I owned the exact dress Jess was wearing and showed her the proof in my closet........And then again when we realized how much the boys looked alike (they both even wore grey sweaters over their white shirts).

It's like we know each other really well or something........

We loaded into the car and headed to the next surprise, the almost forgotten streets of Deep Ellum, where exists a very cool place called The Free Man Cafe and Lounge. 

We arrived just before the crowd, picking out the perfect booth for people watching, fantastic Cajun food, and free live Jazz. I know nothing about trumpets.......but the lead horn guy had a hilarious technique of pushing all the valves down rapidly with his whole hand throughout every song. 

We, on the other hand, had our own techniques of playing mouth trumpets when it was solo time, which is always tons of fun. 

I'm pretty good about checking-in to Foursquare when we go new places to see people's tips on what to order.

The experienced don't lie. The wait staff was great and seriously.......best sweet potato fries. Ever. 

And what could I possibly add to the equation that Patrick might think was better than some of his favorite people, live music, and his wife in a little black dress????......You guessed it: sandwiches.
 The Voodoo Chicken Sandwich had so many delicious layers of flavor our taste buds didn't know what to do with it. Jess kept trying to pick hers apart in attempt to figure out what it was made of, but I think this is one entree better left to the experts. 

It was like pulling teeth to get these people to pose for a group shot outdoors. You'd think they were allergic to cold weather. 

Once back home instead of going to bed, we bundled up in our icebox of a living room to watch Ted and drink some warm apple cider, since Patrick was acting like a 5 year old on his first play date. 

"No, I'm not tired! I don't wanna go to sleep. Let's hang out longer!!"

As you can image, same as you might expect with a 5 year old, it wasn't too long after that he was fast asleep on the couch, and we were so thankful he finally gave in!

I guess having too much fun keeps you young at heart. 

Which do you prefer: hot chocolate or warm apple cider?