2012: Highlights

Honestly, 2012 has largely been a blur for me. Let's recap it, shall we, before I lose track of 2013, too.

January:

I wrote story after story and enjoyed a visit from two sets of friends! I got my first real taste of Oklahoma weather, and was deeply touched by a group of local students and their teacher.

February:

We headed to Lubbock to celebrate my only nephew's first birthday, watched my brother jam out with his band, and laughed at the weird books I get in the mail at work. I got a double-dose of Disney, both at work and in Orlando.

Tornado

I can say without a doubt that April 13, 2012 is a date I will never forget. It's not easy to forget your first tornado.

Meterologists were predicting the weekend would have us seeing a lot of severe weather. I got myself so nervous about the whole thing I was sick to my stomach Friday morning. I called in sick.

We were watching the weather all day long, Nathaniel kept checking to see if work was going to get called off but it never happened. I asked him to call in sick anyway, but he loaded up in the car and took off. It wasn't long before his cell phone rang with a call from his boss calling it off. I instantly felt relieved, knowing he wouldn't be on the road...or worse, on the water.

The National Weather Service announced a tornado watch. I realized my dad was on the road and headed toward us. I call him and warn him about the weather. He told me, as he was driving on the road, he has seen semi's blown over on the side of the road. He pulls over.

We were sitting in our living room around 3:50 p.m., studying the NOAA's website, when Nathaniel's dad called. He told us there was a tornado in Newcastle — a town right next to us — and wanted to know if we were covered. Nathaniel laughed, told him we would head to campus in a few minutes to take cover.

And then the siren went off.

2011: Highlights

2011 has been a crazy year, and I honestly cannot believe it's over already. What's even crazier to me is: I have no idea what 2012 will bring. Since I can't predict the future, let's look at where 2011 took me...

January:

We took a road-trip to California that included home-made candies, Disneyland, a dueling piano bar and reminiscing.

I started my last semester of college, part of which was spent as an intern at the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal.

Then I got this crazy idea I should train for a triathlon, which was awesome -- at least for awhile, until health issues and stress got in the way.

I took photos of my pregnant sister-in-law, Becky, in anticipation of the baby boy she would soon deliver.

Family

Turkey Day means we sit around and think about all the awesome things we're thankful for. I won't get mushy on you though...I'll just make you smile:

Isn't my nephew the cutest?

I'm thankful for my family. Blood family, adopted family, married-to family, and future family. They make my lil' heart go pitter-patter.

What are you thankful for?

Always,

Fuzzy Wuzzy (was a bear)

A few years ago my friend, Dana, gifted me a giant fluffy robe. I mean...giant. It's awesome. So the other day I was putting my robe back on it's rightful hook on my closet door, while I sang this song:

From the other room I heard Nathaniel laughing. He walked in and asked me what I was singing. I looked at him, confused, as I answered, "Fuzzy wuzzy?..."

Rushing, Rising, Rivlets

It rained a whole lot the other day in Oklahoma.

In front of our apartment.

I won't pretend like I didn't like it. In fact, I loved it.

And just so you could hear how loud it was:

Always,

P.S.

Kudos to whoever knows the reference in my title.

On Perfectionism

I'm not perfect, but sometimes I think I have to be. I put on a pretty good face for those around me: I'm formally educated, I wear high heels and suck in my gut, I curl my hair and wear makeup, and I'm generally pretty happy. But I don't have a full-time job, my body hurts a lot, I have some weight I need to lose, I've had grey hair since I was a kid, and I'm easily frustrated with the rate in which I am progressing personally and professionally.

I sense I'm not alone.

The polished me. The in-a-robe-before-bed me...not so perfect.

You say goodbye and I say hello

A week ago I watched this cutie for a bit while her momma was feeling under the weather:

Then I woke up Friday morning feeling sick. I won't go into details. It was not a pretty day.

I slept in until after noon on Saturday. Then when Nathaniel and I made a trip to the Redbox, I foolishly left my wallet in plain sight and Nathaniel thoughtlessly left the car unlocked. When we got back to the car we were greeted with a missing wallet and a stranger's pink phone on my car seat in exchange.

Lesson: we're dumb. And people suck -- people suck at thieving.

Mental Illness: Misconceptions

This is no secret to my family and friends: I struggle with anxiety. I'm not talking about OCD behavior that makes me count my pencils one too many times, or feeling nervous because I'm worried about my husband getting home safely from work. When I say I have anxiety, I mean adrenaline-pumping, limbs shivering, heart-pounding, room-spinning, end-of-the-world anxiety. It's not glamorous, people.

Some days I pray just to survive the next 5 minutes. Some minutes I breath as deeply as I can to avoid the onslaught of a paralyzing attack. Some moments I sob because I feel lost, lonely or even terrified that I can't seem to control my own mind.

The ugly truth.

Old Books Find a Home

We were exploring the Goodwill in Norman, OK, the other day, and I had to stop to run my fingers over the shelves of forgotten and unwanted books. I came across quite a few beauties I had to resist, but some...I just couldn't. All I'm sayin' is: they totally needed a home.

When I opened up the Black Stallion, I was a little sad to see that Jill didn't care if Grandma and Grandpa Jackson gave her the book back in '55. But then I was even more sad that the g-rents didn't know how to spell their own names. Maybe they were the ones that needed to keep the book? I flipped through the pages and loved the bold, graphic illustrations.

Stressed Spelled Backwards

While Nathaniel and I sat in the Colorado airport last Tuesday night after the first leg of our trip back to California for Kourtney's wedding, we started visiting with the other travelers in the terminal. We didn't expect that our casual visiting would soon lead to a small adventure.

Cookie from our hotel. Yum.

Lucky Coin

Sometimes lucky coins work, and sometimes they don't work until later.

So I didn't get that job I really wanted. I thought the interview went swimmingly, but I suppose you never really know what someone is looking for. When I left the interview I felt pretty good about it, I didn't stumble over myself nearly as much as I could have considering I had three people staring, smiling, and nodding at me as they furiously scribbled down who-knows-what kind of notes. I even thought I answered all the questions thoroughly, but hey -- if I'm not the one, I'm not the one.

A few days before my interview my dad told me a story about my great-great-grandmother, Valli Walker. When she was a little girl Valli and her family trekked across the country, through Oklahoma and on to Texas. As the around 8-year-old Valli was walking through the then Cherokee territory, she glanced down and saw something shiny. Valli had found a $20 gold coin. Her father, instead of claiming it as his own, told Valli it was her lucky coin and she should never, ever spend it.

The tiny home in West Texas where Valli would eventually live as an adult. My grandma lived here with Valli when she was a little girl, while her mother went to California to pick fruit. 

Answers

My legs hesitated to stretch to their full height as I stepped out of my car, the humid heat embracing me tightly, after six hours in my stale car air conditioning on Saturday.

During my drive.

Job Possibilities

I'm in the middle of the interview process for a job I seriously want. The first part of the interview was just a test -- typing, grammar, writing and editing -- and other than the 98 words per minute I typed, I have no idea how I did. Part of me feels like I won't get the job because I must be competing with my most brilliant peers. I'm sure they performed excellently on the test (okay, maybe not 98 wpm, let's admit it -- I'm awesome). The other part of me is pretty convinced I was the only one taking the test, and the joke is on me. But hey, I guess we'll see what happens!

Since I've been stuck in limbo, hoping to land my first big job, I've been considering what other career paths I could take up if journalism falls through.

The summer I turned 19 I worked two different jobs. One as a food sample lady, and the other as a receptionist for a nail salon. Between a strange woman laying her hands on my belly and "praying over me" while I stood in my apron and hair net, to having Vietnamese women shove delicious egg rolls down my throat at 10 a.m., it's not much of a stretch to say I'd love to re-live my 19th summer every year.

Crowning Glory

When I was born, I was the typical blonde hair, blue eyed baby. And although my mom was disappointed that my eyes shifted to a mossy green color, my hair remained blonde for a good long time. Up until my junior year of high school, I took pride in defining myself as the spunky, short-haired blondie. The ladies in the front office even knew me as "the girl with cute hair" and I loved it. Then I went through my first break up, and it didn't take long for me to dye my hair a deep, moody brown to reflect my roller-coaster, hormonal, adolescent emotions.

During my brown-hair episode I went through a series of dysfunctional relationships (I even refer to one of my ex's fondly as my ex-douche bag), and then when I began to "find myself" again my hair gradually lightened. By the time I went off for college I was a full-blown, spunky blonde. And then -- a break up -- and my alter-ego brunette made another appearance.

My point isn't to tell you all about my hair history, but to analyze what in the world would make me crave such drastic changes in my hair color? Why did I love being defined as the girl with "the" hair? And on top of that, why to this day, does my hair color and style affect my mood, attitude and how sexy I feel?

Well, apparently the answer is a little complicated, but it's okay, Chris Rock found us the answer. Yes, seriously. Check it out:

If you haven't seen this movie, it's a must -- hilarious, thought-provoking and informative.

Potatoes, Peas and All Things Green

At the end of our groceries and the end of our paycheck, I made us some dinner the other day that was both cheap and simple: mashed potatoes, frozen peas and chicken nuggets. This is a typical meal for us. Half because it's what we can afford and half because it's what's easiest. As I swirled my lemon-pepper potatoes in with my sweet peas, I thought about how someday I would be able to afford to cook us more elaborate meals.

Dinner.

A House or a Home

I wrapped our books and DVDs with saran wrap to save on boxes. Plus a box full of books justs gets so darn heavy. Thank you, Mom, for the brilliant idea!

On Weight and Self-Esteem

Between confident, beautiful but larger women who rock their curves, to countless weight loss gimmicks attempting to sell instant results and self-esteem, I think it's easy to say that the media is sending us a seriously mixed up message about body image and health.

I am all for loving your own body type -- be it naturally skinny or extra voluptuous -- and I love that there are successful celebrities of every body type, showing young girls that they can love themselves for exactly what they are. But what does concern me, is part of the consequences of "accepting yourself."

The round-faced 7 year old version of me. And yes, I'm drawing Ursula.

A Word to the Wise on Steak and Strangers

The other day, while my husband was away to Boy Scouts camp and I sat around in his shirt and pajamas with dirty hair piled on top of my head, a man knocked on my door.

After peeping through the peep hole and seeing a disheveled looking man slowly walking away, I cracked open the door and slipped my head out to ask if he needed anything.

His question: Do you like steak?

Of course, I thought to myself, I love steak.

Me: Yes...

Him: Would you like to buy some?

Being the naively-too-nice person I am, I asked him what kind of steak.

Him: Let me show you.

The disheveled man, complete with sun-leathered skin and holes in his grungy off-white polo shirt, proceeded to enter my house with boxes of frozen steaks. And then, he shut the door behind him.

A box of said steak.

So there I stood in my pajamas in my tiny little house, in my tiny little entry way and kitchen, alone with a grungy, strange man and piles of frozen steak.

Of Fleeting Moments, Babies and Documentation

Some days I don't want to record my thoughts. Sometimes they feel sweeter when they are fleeting, brief and only for that moment. 

I don't feel that way about babies though...they need all the documentation they can get. Like this little guy, my handsome nephew, Ethan:

♥ ♥ ♥