7.03.2007

he liks to "go fast"!


herb's birthday suprise on saturday.
it was so fun to make him so happy.
we took the "ski train" up to winter park with some friends
and played outside and had a little lunch.
good to see herb with his buddies having so much fun!

in other news . . .
well, not too much time for all of that.
just know that there are big time pictures of
big time projects coming soon.

so, back to alternating between "big time projects"
and big time toilet cleaing, laundry folding, and bill paying.

and of course intermitent trips
to the front porch for some fresh air
and a little reminder that life is bigger than me.

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6.29.2007

Sometimes Life Is Like . . .



. . . the really big hedges
in front of your new next door rental property.
you know,
the one you were really excited about
before you owned and
had to remove the hedges
that were probably planted in 1953,
when the house was built.

those are old hedges,
in case you were not certain.
and so they have really long,
gangly, tangly roots
that twist and turn
and make things unpredictable
and you have to pull them out
so that your rental property is not ugly.

because really,
who likes an ugly rental property?
no one, that's who.

truth be told,
herb has been the one ROCKING the bushes!
so really, from personal experience,
life is more like many layers of 60's and 80's
inspired wallpaper
hung without first priming the walls
because all you can think about is how lovely
the burnt sienna and maize print will complement
you brand new kitchen carpet
with the beautiful faux-parquet wood pattern.
and you don't have time to think about priming.

yep, i said kitchen carpet.
carpet which, by the way,
you felt was a much much better alternative
to the beautiful wooden floors that you covered.
so you secure it with glue and tar
and layers of thin ply wood and foam that will be crumbly
and difficult to peel up in 45 years.

life is sometimes like that.

you know what i mean?

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5.19.2007

My Latonya



my friend latonya never ceases to amaze me!
she is so inspiring.
her love of jesus really has soaked
into the marrow of her bones.
and then oozes out.
she makes me love him more.

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5.13.2007

timely

(sitting in the basement of kelly jackson . . . getting ready to mapquest directions to my cousin's house . . . because even though i have been to kansas city countless times since i was a newborn babe . . . i have NO idea how to navigate this town!)

i have been full of new creativity lately.
little baby blooms
waiting for me to let them burst
into something
colorful and
loud
or soft
or whatever they want to be
whatever they need to be

and it is easy to have ideas
and before you let them out of your mouth or hands or feet
you decide what they are
what they can do
and if they are worthy.

it reminds me of the time i walked through
downtown denver
with my friend andy
(by the way, everyone needs an andy)
and i told him
after my first date with herb
why it would never work
why he would not like what he saw
why my homebody ways and my inability to
remain awake past 10 pm would chase him away
why it was not going to work.
why herb was going to decide it would not work.

and then andy did what all true andy's do well
he stood on a city street bench,
hovering above me
and he told me i was not aloud to decide
for herb
what herb
would decide to think about me.

scary, huh?

yep.

but i did it.
i let me be me.
and i let herb decide what he thought.

turns out he likes me.

so come to me
little ideas
little baby ideas
clever baby ideas
colors and sounds and feelings and dreams
come decide what you will
come say what you will
i won't decide for you.


The real reason i started this entry today . . .
to share this quote i found . . .
at kelly's house.
on her desk.
the one i sat down at 15 minutes ago to mapquest directions to my cousin's house . . .

"each person is created to see a different facet of god's beauty - something no one else can see in quite the same way - and then to bless all worshipers through all eternity with an aspect of god they could not otherwise see."

thanks for that, mr. c.s. lewis

love,
cara

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5.01.2007

I Like Rocks ***elsie challenge***




today, elsie flannigan did a challenge over at creating keepsakes .
the idea was to scrap a page about something you find beautiful . . .
something that is simple and ordinary and everyday.

there are so many things . . .
kids playing on the playground
the flowers in my front yard
the vintage looking label on the brand of coconut milk i buy . . .
my husband's silly smile that he makes after he has made a joke and is waiting for the perfect pause in the conversation to say his next joke . . . .
the beautiful old wooden floors in our home . . .
so many many things . . .

but there is one thing that came to mind front and center -
(maybe because i had a picture printed and ready to go!?!?!)

the truth is . . .
i really love rocks.
when i go somewhere special, i pick up a rock.
when i am having a hard day, i pick up a rock.
if there is something i want to be sure to remember,
you get it . . .
ROCK!

we have a small and growing menagerie of these memories on our window sill.
there is the flat, round one i picked up one day and sat on the top of my computer at work - i wrote "strength" on it (just as a little reminder that god is my rock and my strength)
then there is the one my sister picked up on a walk back in 2003 over thanksgiving - when we celebrated our last holiday with our beloved aunt sara a few weeks before cancer took her body.
there is the heart shaped one i picked up in hawaii for herb the first time i realized i was in love with him . . .
and the little tiny castle shaped one from our honeymoon that reminded me of the watch towers that dotted the amalfi coast (you know, to protect the city from pirates!?!?!?!)
. . . our most recent addition is the two small white shiny stones we gave to each other during a ritual at the marriage conference this weekend.
it is my version of a modern day karin (not so sure of the spelling on this one)
the way i understand it, "karin" is the irish practice of stacking stones to mark a special moment or place or time.
ancients used to collect and stack rocks when they found some sort of victory.
the isrealites used to pick up a stone when god showed himself faithful . . .
then when they started to wonder where he was again . . .

(and i understand this can happen from time to time
when a three day trip ends up taking 40 years
and your god may or may not show up
in the form of a cloud, a bush, or an ass.)

. . . they would just pull out their rock and remember his faithfulness,
trusting that he will indeed be faithful again.
personally, if i was living a nomadic lifestyle, i am not so sure that my first thought would be "rock!"
but hey, they where under a lot of stress . . .

so, there you go.
a little random tidbit about what makes me tick.
rocks.
they remind me to god's faithfulness,
things i am thankful for,
and things i hope for.

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4.27.2007

Reduse, Reuse, Recycle

Here is a post I found while looking back into my archives today.
I really like it so I will post it again here today.

"What Do Your Signs Say?"
Originally published on 3/25/2006

I found these signs during my snowshoe hike yesterday.
I have signs like these . . .
ironically placed in just the right spots to keep people (or even myself) from acessing and enjoying the most beautiful, stunning parts of my heart.
I have signs like these . . . destructively keeping me from entering real life.
Real beauty.
Real freedom.
Signs that cause me to stop short of running into the arms of my Savior.
Signs that cause me to look at Him and Life through binoculars.
Wondering, dreaming.
My faith and my salvation have given me abundance. Yet, I stay seated at the perimeter . . .
obeying these signs that keep me from diving in.
Looking at beauty from a distance but believing the signs that are there to keep me out.
Looking at beauty in the face and feeling forbiden to touch it.
Who taught us to erect these signs?
Whose idea was it to take us right up to the edge of real life and then say, "Don't touch!"
Our mothers?
The media?

Or perhaps it lies deeper within.
As if the result of Eve's "apple gone wrong" fiasco altered our very DNA.
As if from the moment we are born, we are inclined to engage life right up to the fences of the wild and the uncharted.
We will live and engage and play and explore . . .
as long as it is safe, and known, and guarenteed.

I don't want to look at pictures of beauty in magazines.
I don't want to read postcards about peace.

I want to run past the signs and the orange cones.

Don't give me decaf or splenda or reality TV.

I want the real thing
and I want to stand right in the bossom of it all
with head tilted high
and righteous fists raised
and glory dripping from my wide hips and oversized teeth
and say to the spinner of all lies . . .
the one who loves war and death and fashion from the 80's:

"This is mine! This is where I belong! My God sees me and knows me and likes me and loves me and He wants me right here! This is MY time and MY place and I will have peace and I will shout "NO!" to anxiety and I will shout "NO!" to being a whiny victim and I will no longer be a whore to depression & self-hatred and I will find kindness between the cobwebs of my cold, dank heart and then splash that stuff all over the place!
I will sing and dance and weep and shout
and write and cook and breast feed when the time comes
and wear pigtails & the color pink
and I will french kiss in public and talk to strangers if I want to
and go to the little kid's waterpark to ride the Lazy River beacause it brings me joy
and I will love my neighbors
and make love to my husband
and be made love to . . .
and don't you dare try to keep me out again, ass hole!"

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Inspire This!



For the past year or so, I have been mopey.
Getting used to marriage has been a toughie for this girl!
The year before that, I was panicked.
Turns out, falling in love was kind of scary too!
Plus, it turned out that working with adolescent males full time was a little too much for my heart to handle.
And i wilted a bit.
So, there's that.

When you are mopey and panicky, you don't tend to be very creative.
But I am noticing that when you are not very creative, you tend to be mopey and panicky.
And then . . . you get weird.
(As if mopey and panicky were not enough!)
Bummer.

On top of that, I do have some of the traits of a typical first born kiddo (which i am).
I am a perfectionist.
But just to murky the waters, I am also creative and I am a bit cynical and pessimistic.
So, a cynical perfectionist knows that you can WANT to do something perfect . . .
but perfection just isn't possible.

The result?

Stagnation.

Why do anything at all if you can't do it perfectly?

This is the mantra of the First Born/Middle Child Hybrid.

In case you are confused, let me give you some background information.
I am convinced that the egg from my mom that was meant for me was accidentally matched with the sperm from my dad that was intended to go with mom's egg that was reserved for my younger sister Amy.

Does that clear things up?

While this theory is about as plausible as herb's theory about his conception and birth
. . . it just is what it is.

This is me.
Weird, first born-ish perfectionist-ish.

The point?

I have needed some inspiration.
A reason to be creative.
A reason to try, even if trying might mean mediocrity or *gasp* failure.

Every time I try to create lately, I seem to get stuck. Somehow I stopped creating for me and started holding myself to certain standards. That special, free, floaty feeling that i used to have when i created disappeared.

And remember, if you can't do it just right . . .
all together now:
"WHY DO IT AT ALL?"

Very good.

Right.
Why do it at all?

But lately, i have had a few people inspire me to do it - whatever IT might be!
even if you can't give it all of the time you want.
even if you can't do it "just right".
do it.
do something.
do it now.
don't wait.

there is a catchy little tune that has been stuck in my head for a few weeks.
and while it the chorus has the f-word, i believe truth can be found just about anywhere . . . even if it was not intentional on the part of the human who created it.
i have found myself humming it.
and after a while, i found myself believing it.
why not just do it?
do anything?

so, thanks, zefrank!

(if you are not too worried about hearing the f-work word, go right here for this hysterical little ditty.)


otherwise, this will give you the gist. this is part of zefrank's intro to a little song called "Where the "F" do ideas come from?":

"I run out of ideas every day! Each day I live in mortal fear that I've used up the last idea that'll ever come to me. If you don't wanna run out of ideas the best thing to do is not to execute them. You can tell yourself that you don't have the time or resources to do 'em right. Then they stay around in your head like brain crack. No matter how bad things get, at least you have those good ideas that you'll get to later.
Some people get addicted to that brain crack. And the longer they wait, the more they convince themselves of how perfectly that idea should be executed. And they imagine it on a beautiful platter with glitter and rose petals. And everyone's clapping for them. But the, but the, but the, but the bummer is most ideas kinda suck when you do 'em. And no matter how much you plan you still have to do something for the first time. And you're almost guaranteed the first time you do something it'll blow. But somebody who does something bad three times still has three times the experience of that other person who's still dreaming of all the applause. When I get an idea, even a bad one, I try to get it out into the world as fast as possible, 'cause I certainly don't want to be addicted to brain crack."

Funny AND true.
How's that for a double-mac-attack!?!?!
Love it!

And then there is my friend Kelly.
A few years ago, Kelly decided to become a photographer.
So she taught herself.
Then she opened her own studio.
And now she is an artist with a thriving business in Kansas City, MO!

The beautiful thing is that kelly (who i have known now for about 13 year - did the math in the shower this morning, kel!!!) sees more potential in me than i see in myself. And for the past year, we have made a habit of talking every few days or so. Recently, we have been chatting about once a day. And while I know we both benefit from our morning chats, I am beginning to realize that kelly is out to encourage me into greatness. Part of her approach to this is to invite me into the creativity that she has been splashing about for the past few years. So, she subtly slips opportunities my way - sort of disguised as bartering or favors . . . but in reality, she is pushing me to just get out there and do something with my talents! ANYTHING!

It is kind of like she taught herself how to build a roller coaster from scratch and i just walked over and said, "oh, i like roller coasters! can i have a ride?"

The pictures above are of a 12 x 12 canvas I made this week.
Thanks to kelly, i am going to make a handful of these and display them in her studio as an option people can choose when deciding how they want to display the pictures she takes of them and their family! This is my first attempt . . . mostly playing around with paint and adhesive techniques.

and zefrank is right - i know now more than i did three days ago!!!

thanks zefrank for asking the question, "where the f*** do ideas come from?" - even if you are a major potty mouth!
and thanks kel, for inviting me onto your roller coaster!

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1.02.2007

What I Have Been Doing . . .

Snow storms are way fun . . .
snow shoeing through the streets . . .
snuggeling with my honey . . .
drinking hot chocolate . . .

and . . .
apparently . . .
to my dismay . . .
and very different than what I would have been doing 6 months ago . . .
now, granted 6 months ago it was the middle of the summer and there would be no blizzards . . .
and I would be at the lazy river . . .

but I am just saying . . .
6 months ago . . .
never would have guessed . . .
that I would be a . . .

a scrapbooker . . .



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11.27.2006

What Is It We Are Waiting For?

The cool thing about yesterday's Advent mix up is that we just bought ourselves a week to explore the back story.
Why do we acknowledge this time of anticipation?
Why do we celebrate a child's birth that took place 2000 years ago?

I have a few thoughts on all of this . . .

Keep in mind a few things . . .
A) It has been 7 years since in sat in my Old Testament seminary classes. So, I know that I might have some of the Biblical details mixed up. I will try to clarify those as I study more this month.
B) These are my thoughts and words about Advent . . . please enjoy them, use them, pass them along . . . but please don't preach them, publish them, or claim them as your own.

Now that we have all of that cleared up . . .


From the time I became a believer in Christ (in my late teens), I can remember feeling disillusioned during the Christmas Eve service at church. The day would go great up to the point that I sat in the dim old church; squirming around in a creaky wooden pew. We wrapped last minute gifts . . . or in my case, we made our last minute gifts and prayed they would dry on time! And then mom made homemade waffles and ham. After washing down a great day with a tall glass of egg nog, we drove to church.

Eventually, I saw Christmas Eve as a time of worship rather than a special night to wear my new dress and oggle at the women who wore fur coats to the late service.

But I always left feeling sad and overwhelmed.
It was clear that what was being said was important.
What we observed was important.

I knew it must be important because there was a 20 foot tree at the front of the building and hundreds of poinsetas placed strategically around the room. The choir, robed in Burgundy and gold, sang songs learned especially for that evening - often times in Latin. Now, I don't know about you, but in my world, if a person makes the effort to learn something in Latin, it is a pretty special occasion.

They had my attention.
It was clear that Christmas was important.

But I felt hard pressed to be changed in my heart by what had happened in Bethlehem so many years ago. Even as an adult, it has been hard to celebrate something that I don't really understand the origin and importance of. Easter is much easier for me. As violent and agonizing as the story is, I get the whole, "he died for your sins and then overcame them" thing.

What has been more difficult to grasp is the process of "waiting" and "anticipating" that Israel went through so many years ago. It is hard to imagine a time in history when people believed the Savior would come . . . they just didn't know when.

The time of Advent leads up to the crescendo of Christ's birth!
But the message that was told was always too big to fit into an hour long service. There were not enough candles or choir robes or words in the Latin language to sufficiently communicate the message. It was like pouring the Pacific Ocean into a Dixie Cup.

Even if it had been possible for them to sufficiently convey the message in one hour, my heart could not hold it; my mind could not comprehend it. Because the Christmas Story is so much longer than what can be told in one hour. It has so little to do with stars and wisemen and mangers. Those are, in my opinion, vivid but gratuitous details that we have grasped tightly to, with the hopes of creating some symbolance of order out of this holiday.

Most sermons are based on 9 or 10 verses of Scripture. That is, if the pastor even uses Scripture anymore! But this message, really, requires the back story of the entire Old Testament and hundreds of years of relationship between God and man to fully appreciate the significance of a young, unmarried girl who risked her life because she believed that an angel told her the child in her belly was from God.

It doesn't do much good to anticipate Christ's arrival if we don't really understand why we need him. You can't yearn for somebody that you don't know. You can't really celebrate the homecoming of a loved one if you didn't miss their absence in the first place.
I suppose that is exactly what the Isrealites did.

By the time of his birth, Christ had been prophesied about for decades. Some people yearned for his anticipated arrival. Sadly, many people lost hope that he would come at all, and the faithful anticipatory crowd tended to be limited to prophets and others who were considered to be the town crazies and overall burdensome to those who just wanted to live their lives without obligation or boundary.

Why did they need a Savior? Why was this Emmanuel's arrival such a big deal? Why were they anticipating him for so long?

We can trace this all the way back to Genesis. From the time Eve's lips tongue tasted lies mixed with apple juice, we needed some help.

We needed a Redeemer. We were disconnected from God after that whole fresh fruit fiasco, and humanity as a whole was desperately in need of a means of repaying an infinite debt.

Later, the nation of Israel is formed in the form of one polygomist who had a falling out with his brother, so he takes his wives and all of their children away from their homes out of his own fear, and ends up in Egypt, where they are enslaved. All of those people suffered because he was a bonehead. Perhaps he was feeling a little like Miss Eve at that moment.

Yes, I am thinking we need a Savior. Because, don't we all make mistakes like this? (. . . the answer . . . it is "yes".)

Later, there is this whole locust and blood thing . . . kind of gruesome. They finally get out of dodge one night after an angel goes through town and knocks off all of the Egyptians. So, they are free, but far from home. So God earmarks a kid with a lisp to lead the group of ex-slaves to a "promised land". But what should have been a three or four day walk takes 40 years.

These people are wandering around and without a King. They cannot go home and they cannot go to the "promised land" due to political unrest. They don't have a poltical leader to protect them.

And they are desperate for one. Why?

A king, a good king, will represent and protect his people. A good king has a voice that is respected and heeded. A good king helps to maintain order and justice.

This is something we all need. And without a good king, we are either unfairly reigned (a dictatorship) or reigned with a weak hand and left to our own devices. There was disorder and injustice - and they longed for someone to come in to guide and protect them.

One problem is that people have historically been disinterested in resolving the breech between themselves and God. It seems much easier and more comfortable to just keep things the way they are.

Israel needed a king. We need a king. The reality is, they had one - from the beginning, God has been king.

But they chose not to follow him. They did not respond to his direction.

So, God promised them a king they might respond to.
A human king.

And so, we wait, like they waited.
We look inside and we see the ways that our souls are just like the state of Isreal back before the Savior was born . . . scared, without direction, and burdened.
It becomes just a bit more clear that this kid whose birthday we celebrate next month, might actually be worth the wait.

Look inside . . . And ask . . .

How do I need to be redeemed?
How do I need to be led?
How do I need to be protected?

These are the reasons a Messiah was promised and delivered. If we don't know why a Redeemer is significant in our lives, then we have no basis on which to anticipate Christ or to celebrate his birth at the end of this month.

And we are left with a belly full of nog and an empty heart.

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6.22.2006

Simple Pleasures

I am realizing how I MUST MUST live in the "right now" of it all.
I must take joy and peace and pride in what is actually happening . . . actually right now.

Today . . .
Went to the library; saw lots of kids walking and riding bikes to get there . . . some came in with their helmets on.
Ate a crepe with wonderful blue cheese inside.
Helped an old man put a watermelon in his trunk . . . and then he pointed to his groin area and explained that he just had surgery.
Bought and arranged two beautiful bouquets of flowers.
Smiled as a I pulled out a beautiful yellow bowl from my cabinet to defrost chicken in.

Simple pleasures people . . . I have forgotten how much they soothe and feed and nourish and grow and heal . . . keep your eyes open . . . they are all around . . . and my attentiveness is just begining.

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Whatever you do today, look high and low . . . but open your eyes and find your folly whatever that might be.

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6.17.2006

Background Music

Inspired by ESueYoung.

Your Life: The Soundtrack
Opening credits:Beautiful - Nanci Griffith
Waking up:Sunrise - Norah Jones
Average day:Going in the Right Direction - Robert Randolph and the Family Band
First date:Creepin' In - Norah Jones
Falling in love:A Fine Romance - Billie Holliday
Love scene:Moonlight Kiss - Bapp Kennedy
Fight scene:Untouchable Face - Ani DiFranco
Breaking up:Wedding Day - Rosie Thomas
Getting back together:Pale Moon (We Belong Together) - Shannon McNally
Life's okay:Angry Anymore - Ani DiFranco
Mental breakdown:18 Bulletholes - Waterdeep
Driving:Powerless (Say What You Want) - Nelly Furtado
Learning a lesson:Bitter Root - Indigo Girls
Deep thought:Horn - Nick Drake
Flashback:This is Us - Emmylou Harris & Mark Knopfler
Partying:Rose Rouge - St. Germain
Happy dance:ABC - Jackson 5
Regreting:Beautiful Man - Lori McKenna
Long night alone:Save Me - Aimee Mann
Death scene:Dance Me To The End of Love - Madeleine Peyroux
Closing credits:Float On - Modest Mouse
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You've been totally Bzoink*d

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6.16.2006

Bermuda, Bahama, Come on Pretty Mama



Herb planned our honeymoon and it was lovely.
Now it is my turn to plan a one year anniversary trip.
Does anyone have suggestions for a wonderful Caribbean Island get-a-way.

A few requirements:
- must be mild in temperature for my hot blooded hub-a-roo
- must be able to stay in somesort of over the top beach front open-air cabana (at least a night or two)
- rich culture (not too touristy - wouldn't mind if nobody spoke english - would LOVE if we were the only Americans around. that way herb wouldn't feel like he has to speak "fake german" to cover up for our sometimes embarrassing heritage.)
- good food
- snorkeling
- island dancing but not necessarily a huge, loud nightlife scene


Aruba Jamaica ooo I wanna take you
Bermuda Bahama come on pretty mama
Key Largo Montego baby why don't we go
Jamaica

Off the Florida Keys
There's a place called Kokomo
That's where you wanna go to get away from it all

Bodies in the sand
Tropical drink melting in your hand
We'll be falling in love
To the rhythm of a steel drum band
Down in Kokomo

Aruba Jamaica ooo I wanna take you
To Bermuda Bahama come on pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego baby why don't we go

Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo
We'll get there fast
And then we'll take it slow
That's where we wanna go
Way down to Kokomo

To Martinique, that Monserrat mystique

We'll put out to sea
And we'll perfect our chemistry
By and by we'll defy a little bit of gravity

Afternoon delight
Cocktails and moonlit nights
That dreamy look in your eye
Give me a tropical contact high
Way down in Kokomo

Aruba, Jamaica ooo I wanna take you
To Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego baby why don't we go

Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo
We'll get there fast
And then we'll take it slow
That's where we wanna go
Way down to Kokomo

Port Au Prince I wanna catch a glimpse

Everybody knows
A little place like Kokomo
Now if you wanna go
And get away from it all
Go down to Kokomo

Aruba, Jamaica ooo I wanna take you
To Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego baby why don't we go

Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo
We'll get there fast
And then we'll take it slow
That's where we wanna go
Way down to Kokomo

Aruba, Jamaica ooo I wanna take you
To Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego baby why don't we go

Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo

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5.05.2006

Irony, Stellar Store Planning, and the Cycle of Life


Last night, after my counseling appointment, I decided to engage in some continued therapy. So, I went where any gal would go when seeking to enlighten, grow, and heal . . . Target. In addition to finding hilarious, cheap puppy and lion costumes for Levi and Ali's third birthdays and snagging some sassy beaded shoes, I found myself duly entertained by the set up of the store. Completely tailored to the female customer, ages 18-35, your journey begins smack dab in women's clothing and accessories. Next, we move into lingerie . . . which gently and subtly flows into the Maternity section. From there, it is all smoooooth sailing right into baby clothes.

So apparently life is like this:
If you look hot.
You take your clothes off.
Then you look hotter.
Then things get hotter.
Then you're just hot because your body temperature is unregulated for 9 months.
And finally, you breastfeed a small child for the next year of your life, in which you will be covered with baby throw-up and diaper rash cream.
During this time, you will not be hot or feel hot.
You will do nothing hot.
Once baby turns about 18 months, you will begin to regain your senses.
You will still not look hot.
But the mere sight of your husband's hands no longer repluses you and you will want to feel hot again.
So you will journey back to the front of the store.
And the cycle starts all over again.

This, friends is the real reason why we see so many mothers with one toddler and one infant, buying bulk supplies of diapers in the grocery section of Target (which, coincidentally, is just a hop, skip, and a jump away from baby clothes).
Damn marketing strategists!

So, ladies, next time you put on a sparkly tank top or a pair of hoop earrings, think about where this might all be leading you!

(*** i get the same chuckle every time i walk by my favorite lingerie store, Sirens on Third . . . which is appropriately placed right next door to the cutest maternity shop - Belly! ***)

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4.12.2006

Until I Can Figure Out How to Get My Dang PIcture to Show up with my Screen Name . . .


Here is what I love about this picture: It is so real. It shows my huge front teeth, my gummy smile, my squinty left eye, my baby face dimples . . . but I think it is so beautiful all at the same time. It was taken last month in Germany by my sweetie. I would love to tie in that behind me is part of the holocaust memeorial . . . but I am not quite that awake yet.
Yes, I just posted a picture of myself and wrote a whole entry about it. If you are uncomfortable about that, don't be . . . see post below.

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