Sporty Spice

My little 4lb toy poodle, Zoe, got up this morning and wasn't her usually jumpy Excited To Be Alive self. Instead, she got out of her little bed/cage and sat on my feet. Since my mom and grandma are staying with me, they kept an eye on her when I went off to work and said she was crying everytime she walked.

So, little Zoe had to go to the vet today. The vet said she dislocated her knee cap, and he had to pop both her back knees in. Now she is on prednisone. Yuck.

I'm really not sure what happened to cause this injury. The only thing I can figure is that maybe she's been playing too much volleyball while I'm at work. I heard murmurs of her wanting to turn pro, but she's been debating about holding out to play in the next Olympics.

I guess she threw that all away with this injury. Too bad. She had a mean spike too.

Yada, Yada, Yada ... I didn't get a lot of sleep last night

I met up with my friend Suz and her fiancee Tom after dinner to grab coffee and chat. We all got to catch up at the lovely Coffee Cafe, then went to my house to see their engagement pictures on my laptop.

Afterwards, still battling my ongoing sickness (we're at almost two weeks now kids!), I took a shower and went to bed. I read for a bit, eyes got droopy, rolled over to go to sleep and ... my mind was going a million miles an hour. I was thinking about friends, work, wedding, sickness, family ... AH!

I've been blaming my antibiotics (we're at almost two weeks now kids!) for the restless sleep I've been getting, but this was seriously ridiculous.

That's when it hit me. The nice little man behind the counter at the Coffee Cafe must have ignored that one little word that means so much ....

Decaf.

"I want to put DIAMONDS on my FACE!"

Sometimes I think the episode of Arrested Development where Lindsey wants Michael to spring for some face cream with real crushed up diamonds in it, is really not that much of an exaggeration.

My mom and I went to get our pre-wedding make-overs for my brother's wedding, so we did a trial run with the make-up artist, who is amazing and I love to pieces.

She put some high-end Yves Saint Laurent lip gloss on me and said "it's 24 karat gold!" Thinking this means it's the cutesy name for the lip gloss with a gold lid, I just smiled and puckered up.

When I went to look in the mirror I noted it had some gold shimmer to it. She said, "IT'S REAL GOLD! It has 24 karat gold in it!" This instantly worried me. "How do you not get poisoned consuming gold?!? Is there just so little that it's okay??"

She seemed none-to-concerned, shrugging and reiterating that It's REAL GOLD!

So, yeah ... for about $25 a tube, you too can have GOLD on your FACE. :)

Happy Birthday to Me

I've discovered that the best part about being reminded that you are officially old is that assorted companies have figured out they can win over customers/talk them into spending money that they weren't planning to spend under the guise of Birthday Gift rewards.

So far I have received the following:

DSW Shoes: $5 off
Gap: $15/off with $60 purchase
Victoria's Secret: $10
Express: $15 off (this one expired before my birthday so that one is dumb)
Hallmark: $4 off (I guess so I can buy my own card in case I'm feeling bad about the day?)
Kohls: 15% off

I haven't received birthday greetings from my State Farm insurance agent yet though, so that kind of bums me out.

The test

I recently went to a wedding dress fitting for my sister-in-law-to-be. She bought her dress at the same place where my friend Jen got her dress and I had heard tell from both of them of the guy that worked there and how it was hard to tell if he was gay. In my mind, I couldn't figure out how a guy could work at a wedding dress place without being gay, but then again I have a straight-and-proud hair guy, so you just never know.

So the test began the moment I walked in the door to the non-air-conditioned shop in downtown Orlando. I had to find out. Why I cared about a stranger's sexual preference, I don't know, I guess it was something for me to do while I waited.

The very flamboyant man that greeted us at the door had a bit of a rustic lumberjack beard and pretty brown eyes. Not bad looking, but was wearing some sort of old, really bad semi-Hawaiian button down type of shirt with some Wal-mart-esque jeans.

As Jamey headed back to the dressing room, the radio was blaring. I guess it was the Pussycat Dolls as he asked me if I was familiar with the group. I said I'd heard of them. But he wanted to know if I KNEW them... I was like "Well they are strippers right? They are strippers that formed a pop group."

My stripper accusation seemed to miff him a bit as he went off on how he had seen them live and they were ever-so-talented and just as beautiful as their pictures. Hmmm I can't imagine any of my straight friends singing along to the Pussycat Dolls (except Matty of course), but I can't imagine a gay guy going on about the beauty of female stripper-slash-singers. The puzzler continued.

Back to Jamey: He told her she needed to get some color. She agreed; we all discussed different fake tan or fake bake options.

Then I hit the jackpot.

Wedding guy said he had been at a nightclub recently and one of the male dancers was trying to help define his six pack by putting fake tanner on in streaks to outline the abs, and that it looked just ridiculous. Stripes on the male dancer's stomach. Oh the laughing. Oh the confirmation.

They don't call me an investigatory journalist for nothing.

The blood.

Last week, I was going over the work schedule with someone at our company, and mentioned that one of my favorite freelancer's mother died after a long battle with cancer, and that we needed to give her some grace in getting her work into us. Her response?

"Oh we need to cover her in the blood!"

Not one for discussing or mentioning blood myself (it kind of grosses me out really--the visual of literally covering someone in blood), I supposed that this was just her way of saying we needed to pray for her, so I agreed and moved on.

At least twice since then, she has said the same thing: "we need to pray the blood!" or "we just need to cover them in the blood."

Today I returned to work, admittedly a little grumpy and still not feeling great after my eardrum rupturing incident on Thursday. She blazed into my office, raised her hands in the air and declared "the blood" over me. With my boss standing over my shoulder, I muttered a snippy reply under my breath (which she didn't hear) as she left.

I would bet that she read a book or heard a sermon on the importance of Christ's blood and how it holds the power to answer prayer. For the next two or three weeks, the blood will be of utmost imporatance ... until another pastor or author or radio DJ comes along and tells her something ELSE is the most important, and she focuses on that for a spell.

It's funny how we in the Christian community find these little things and just latch onto them, grasping at any way to better connect with our Lord. Some are great, some are life changing .... others seem to just get in the way of what is important.

Doesn't Jesus/God/Holy Spirit hold the power? Are things like praying the blood getting her closer to God? Or is it just refocusing her attention, making her feel good about her prayer life?

It just worries me when people latch onto things like the blood, as if it is the good luck charm to get you in good with The Man Upstairs. I appreciate someone's effort to think of me in prayer, but I really don't like the idea of someone thinking they have the special key that gets their "prayer emails" pushed to the top of God's Inbox.

Prayer is serious business. Sure, it can be said quietly in your head in the middle of the street or outloud and a huge rally. God is always listening, but we are talking to the creator of the universe, the Savior of our souls ... not a genie in a bottle.

Praying is not wishing on a star or blowing out a birthday candle. Declaring the blood, or praying on a rosary and saying the magic Jabez prayer is not your ticket to get what you want when you want, compliments of God.

Next time she offers me the blood, I'm just going to have to ask why... and I know this will lead to a half hour one-sided conversation where she tells me about the latest book she read. Maybe I'll somehow find a way to tell her how I'm really thankful that God doesn't require magic phrase to unlock his ear. God give me grace. Thankfully, he's bigger than my little hang-ups, too. :)

Being sick sucks. Not only the feeling miserable, but the sitting around for days all by yourself and the consuming of more television than should be legal while becoming one with the couch ... It's times like this that one wishes they didn't live 2,000 miles from family. I guess I'll just enjoy my prescription pain pills laced with narcotics that the doc gave me yesterday (while they last).

A long time coming

Yeah. I'm totally a blog slacker. I have friends traveling across Europe that manage to post blogs at least once a day, and here I am, in front of a PC for 9 hours a day and I haven' t posted anything for a month. It's been a strange stressful time that has both rocked my world while at the same time seemingly nothing has changed. I feel stuck and on a fast track. It's weird.

A few things from the past month:

- Some of the girls at work and I have started doing Pilates twice a week at lunch. We call ourselves the Pontius Pilates. I'm pretty sure we're going to hell for that.
- My brother got engaged to one of my friends/is getting married over Labor Day.
- I have discovered Tab Energy Drink. This stuff is delish, gives a buzz and has 5 little calories. It tastes like a liquid Jolly Rancher or SweetTarts.
- My mom and I booked a cruise to the Bahamas. We found a super cheap rate so we just went for it! I'm excited ... and a little nervous to be on a boat with just my mom for that long. I think we will have a good and relaxing time though. I can't wait to snorkel!
- My friend Suz returned from playing missionary in the D.R. Hooray! We've been working on her wedding and I get to meet her fiancé next week!
- I got a filling fixed at 7 a.m. this morning (Again, thank God for Tab Energy ... zzzzzz). The dentist told me not to brush my teeth for at least 12 hours. I have NEVER heard the words "don't brush" come out of a dentist's mouth.

that's all for now kids ...
xoxo,
-marcia