February 20, 2008 - Wednesday
Current mood: morose
Today I find myself in mourning. I could barely muster the strength to pull myself out of my grief this morning and get out of bed. Begrudgingly, I brushed my teeth, put on a sweatshirt and jeans and gathered my hair into a messy ponytail. In my state of desperation, the bright sun seems dark. The music I am listening to seems like sheer noise. And the cold winter air seems to sting my body as I jaunt out into a world that knows not the pain infiltrating my soul. It's cruel that the world can continue on, oblivious to the tragedy in my heart.
My favorite pants have died.
These were not any old pair of dress slacks. They were not designer jeans. They were not the epitome of fashion and style. My favorite pants were my men's flannel Santa Claus print pajama bottoms from Old Navy.
My sister gave me these pants as a Christmas gift a long time ago. My mind is in such a state of shock right now, that I can't remember exactly when she gave them to me...but I know it was sometime when I was in college.
These pants were very large. There were many times I would be wearing them, and accidentally flash my underwear to the people around me because the pants wouldn't stay up.
They were red flannel, with vintage Santa Claus heads scattered about, spreading Christmas cheer and smiles to everyone who gazed upon them. They were too long and too big for me, but I loved them anyhow. They tied with a red flannel drawstring.
The pants offered me comfort, not only on my body, but in my heart. They were what made me feel at home after a long day. They were the security wrapped around me when I awoke shaken from a bad dream. They were the protection coating my legs if I spilled coffee on myself. They were my best friend.
One might tend to think that, given the holiday theme of these pants, they would lend themselves to only be worn during the Christmas season. But these pants transcended all seasons. They may have been covered in Santa Claus heads, but they were with me throughout every season of my life, bringing happiness and warmth through the good times and the bad.
They were with me through breakups, make ups, spills, cleanups, sickness, health, laughter, crying, anger, joy....these pants have been a sustaining force in my life since that fateful Christmas day when I carefully tore off the paper surrounding the box in which they were encased. As soon as I set eyes on them, I knew we would be lifelong friends.
But the other day, as I was putting the pants on, I noticed something was amiss. And I gasped in horror as I realized what it was. The fabric had worn and I had ripped a giant hole in the upper thigh of the pants!
I feel like I am partially to blame here. I should have known that the pants were getting on in years, and I should have taken into account that the fabric would be vulnerable and frail. But instead, I was so eager for my instant comfort, that I yanked the pants up and they ripped. I killed the pants in my zeal.
This is not how I had envisioned the end. I thought these pants would be with me forever. And if they weren't with me forever, I figured they would eventually be shipped off to Goodwill, so they could bring the same level of comfort and peace to someone else as they did for me. I thought perhaps I would travel to an exotic location and accidentally leave the pants behind, allowing them to live a new adventure with whomever happened to pick them up. I thought that maybe, just maybe, I would one day give the pants to my own daughter when her first boyfriend broke up with her...so that she could experience their healing power.
I never thought their life would be cut so short, and so abruptly. I am so ashamed of my inattentiveness and my lack of concern. But I know I have to somehow...some way, figure out how to move on without them.
My friends, I admonish you, please be with me during this difficult time. Sometimes I need a friend to tell me a joke and cheer me up; and other times all I need is someone to sit with my quietly as I reflect on these pants that were taken long before their time.
Let's all raise our glasses in loving memory of my Santa Claus pants...They will be missed, but forever celebrated in our hearts!
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Spiritual Implications from Bob Ross
February 19, 2008 - Tuesday
Current mood: artistic
I can't wait for spring. Winter has turned me into a TV junkie and...well....a lazy bum. When the weather finally climbs to 50 degrees or so, I will be ready to go outside and run with my arms in the air, screaming as loud as I can for the freedom brought by warmer weather. Of course, I don't run....and I don't remember ever screaming like that. But you know, this is figurative.
During my winter imprisonment, I often find myself flipping the channels, and for some unknown reason, I always stop on the Public Broadcasting Channel called simply "Create". This channel has many different shows ranging in topic from scrapbooking to quilting to making an entire Winter Wonderland themed party kit out of recycled chewing gum, toothpicks, and glitter. My normal routine is to stop on this station, watch for about 2 minutes or so, and then carry on with my channel flipping. One show, however, always captivates my attention for longer...The Joy of Painting with Bob Ross.
Current mood: artistic
I can't wait for spring. Winter has turned me into a TV junkie and...well....a lazy bum. When the weather finally climbs to 50 degrees or so, I will be ready to go outside and run with my arms in the air, screaming as loud as I can for the freedom brought by warmer weather. Of course, I don't run....and I don't remember ever screaming like that. But you know, this is figurative.
During my winter imprisonment, I often find myself flipping the channels, and for some unknown reason, I always stop on the Public Broadcasting Channel called simply "Create". This channel has many different shows ranging in topic from scrapbooking to quilting to making an entire Winter Wonderland themed party kit out of recycled chewing gum, toothpicks, and glitter. My normal routine is to stop on this station, watch for about 2 minutes or so, and then carry on with my channel flipping. One show, however, always captivates my attention for longer...The Joy of Painting with Bob Ross.
Bob Ross is my friend Kim's future late uncle-in-law. We all know Bob's mellow narration and penchant for happy trees. His calm demeanor and soothing voice have occasionally lulled me to sleep. However, when I have managed to stay awake, I have always encountered a slight problem.
I don't trust Bob.
I have seen his work before. I know that all of his paintings turn out great. I have never seen one I didn't like. Granted, they are not particularly the style I with which I would choose to decorate my home, but I can appreciate a work of art when I see one. Give him 25 minutes and Bob can transform a plain canvas into a majestic mountainscape, or a snowy winter scene. He has never failed in his work, and I have always stood amazed at the end of his show.
But every time I watch, I get worried. I think, "Oh, Bob, why did you put that big ugly streak of van dyke brown right down the middle of your painting?" or "Yeah, he's painting all that gray around the edges; it's going to look ugly now." or "How could he ruin all that beautiful water by adding those highlights?"
Now, I know nothing of painting. I've made a few modest attempts, but they have all turned out looking like, well...looking like I painted them.
Somehow, I still feel like I can criticize and scrutinize Bob Ross's paintings, while he is in the process of creating them. I think I can somehow know that Bob is going to ruin his beautiful work by adding this tree here or that highlight there.
But in the end, Bob's paintings always turn out looking spectacular and perfect, and I turn the channel with a renewed faith in Bob and his ability to see beyond my scope of knowledge.
Doesn't this sort of parallel our own lives?
Think of it this way, our lives are the canvas; God is Bob Ross; and we are...us.
How often do we watch our lives unfolding before us and wonder what in the world God is thinking? "God, how could you put that obstacle there, right in the middle of everything?" "Why would you choose to insert this thing into my life, when it was already looking so nice and perfect?" "Why did you smudge this section, I liked it the way it was?"
God has never failed us before. We have seen him create miracles and beauty and fix problems in the world and in the lives of others around us. Yet, in some strange way, we still think we know what's best...and we still think he needs our advice.
In the end, just like Bob Ross's paintings always turned out perfectly, we have to trust that God knows what he's doing with our lives. God is God, and we don't have the capacity to know where he's going next or what he's thinking. It may look like things in our life are getting ugly, or cluttered, or smudged. But we have to trust the Painter, for he has not created an ugly painting yet.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
A Love Story that is Completely Fabricated and Appallingly Sarcastic, in Honor of St. Valentine
February 12, 2008 - Tuesday
Current mood: smitten
Ladies and Gentlemen, I am elated to inform you that I have fallen in love with a rock star. Well, I am not so much "in love", as I have a little crush, and he is not so much a rock star, as the lead singer for a dual-marketed Christian/mainstream light rock band.
Let's call him Buck Hartman. I enjoy his songs and his gruff voice melts me. Buck has long, blonde hair that may or may not be a little greasy. He occasionally wears a beard, and his clothing is typically relatively stylish (except that Don Johnson jacket I saw him wear once). I have never actually met Buck, or seen his face in good lighting, for that matter. But I imagine he smells nice and has a brooding stare. And, being that he and his band mates are from the southeastern part of these United States, I assume he probably uses words like y'all, brisket, sweet tea and ma'am. And he can probably call a woman "baby" without sounding like a creep.
On February 22, 2008, just ten short days from now, Buck and I will finally meet.
My friend Kim has probably been encouraging this crush a little too much, but I don't blame her. What follows has been copied and pasted from an actual email exchange between Kim and me, regarding mine and Buck's potential love story that will begin to unfold on this upcoming Friday evening:
What preceded this email is of no consequence…
Kim: Good job Nic!! That's awesome. Just don't become a floosie. Buck Hartman wouldn't like that ; )
Nicole: Oh yeah, I forgot that I'm going to put all my eggs into the proverbial basket of Buck Hartman. I'm positive that I will meet him and he will instantaneously fall madly and desperately in love with me because in my single word "hello", I will somehow have captivated him more than all the other girls who have been in his life or attended his concerts before...yes, even Haley. Because I am just that magnetic.
Based on my one word, "hello", he will grab me around my waist, pull me into him, and kiss me more passionately than anyone has ever kissed another person before in the history of the world. He will invite me (and my friends, of course), to dinner with them after the show. We will go to IHOP. We will feed each other bites of pancake. We will share a joint orange juice with two straws and both marvel at the horrible taste of the orange juice mixed with the sweetness of the syrup for our pancakes. We will rub our noses together and feel that spark once again.
We will exchange phone numbers and he, because of his unlimited wealth as the front man of a lesser-known dirty rock band, will fly me to every one of their concerts for the remainder of this tour. After the tour, he will spend his weekends in Decatur, wining and dining me to my capacity of wining and dining (minus the wine part, of course).
Then, sometime in July he will ask for my hand, and I will oblige. We will marry exactly one year from now, and ride off into the sunset on a black, diamond-studded horse...because that is just the rocker way.
And so will go the love story of Buck and me. Once February 23 rolls around, if you don't hear from me for awhile, this is why. By February 23, you see, Buck will have so captured my heart that I will have little room for any other social interaction because by day I will be traveling the world with him on his tour, and by night, I will be dreaming of the next day when I will again see my Buck. Please forgive me if I don't return phone calls or emails, but I will simply be too preoccupied with my new love to respond to you. However, you can be expecting a wedding invitation sometime in late December of this year, or early January of 2009.
Kim: Gosh...I love you. You are so hilarious! Do you really want a husband named Buck?
Nicole: yeah...if he plays me songs on his guitar, I'll take a husband named poop!
Currently listening : The Heat By Needtobreathe Release date: 28 August, 2007
Current mood: smitten
Ladies and Gentlemen, I am elated to inform you that I have fallen in love with a rock star. Well, I am not so much "in love", as I have a little crush, and he is not so much a rock star, as the lead singer for a dual-marketed Christian/mainstream light rock band.
Let's call him Buck Hartman. I enjoy his songs and his gruff voice melts me. Buck has long, blonde hair that may or may not be a little greasy. He occasionally wears a beard, and his clothing is typically relatively stylish (except that Don Johnson jacket I saw him wear once). I have never actually met Buck, or seen his face in good lighting, for that matter. But I imagine he smells nice and has a brooding stare. And, being that he and his band mates are from the southeastern part of these United States, I assume he probably uses words like y'all, brisket, sweet tea and ma'am. And he can probably call a woman "baby" without sounding like a creep.
On February 22, 2008, just ten short days from now, Buck and I will finally meet.
My friend Kim has probably been encouraging this crush a little too much, but I don't blame her. What follows has been copied and pasted from an actual email exchange between Kim and me, regarding mine and Buck's potential love story that will begin to unfold on this upcoming Friday evening:
What preceded this email is of no consequence…
Kim: Good job Nic!! That's awesome. Just don't become a floosie. Buck Hartman wouldn't like that ; )
Nicole: Oh yeah, I forgot that I'm going to put all my eggs into the proverbial basket of Buck Hartman. I'm positive that I will meet him and he will instantaneously fall madly and desperately in love with me because in my single word "hello", I will somehow have captivated him more than all the other girls who have been in his life or attended his concerts before...yes, even Haley. Because I am just that magnetic.
Based on my one word, "hello", he will grab me around my waist, pull me into him, and kiss me more passionately than anyone has ever kissed another person before in the history of the world. He will invite me (and my friends, of course), to dinner with them after the show. We will go to IHOP. We will feed each other bites of pancake. We will share a joint orange juice with two straws and both marvel at the horrible taste of the orange juice mixed with the sweetness of the syrup for our pancakes. We will rub our noses together and feel that spark once again.
We will exchange phone numbers and he, because of his unlimited wealth as the front man of a lesser-known dirty rock band, will fly me to every one of their concerts for the remainder of this tour. After the tour, he will spend his weekends in Decatur, wining and dining me to my capacity of wining and dining (minus the wine part, of course).
Then, sometime in July he will ask for my hand, and I will oblige. We will marry exactly one year from now, and ride off into the sunset on a black, diamond-studded horse...because that is just the rocker way.
And so will go the love story of Buck and me. Once February 23 rolls around, if you don't hear from me for awhile, this is why. By February 23, you see, Buck will have so captured my heart that I will have little room for any other social interaction because by day I will be traveling the world with him on his tour, and by night, I will be dreaming of the next day when I will again see my Buck. Please forgive me if I don't return phone calls or emails, but I will simply be too preoccupied with my new love to respond to you. However, you can be expecting a wedding invitation sometime in late December of this year, or early January of 2009.
Kim: Gosh...I love you. You are so hilarious! Do you really want a husband named Buck?
Nicole: yeah...if he plays me songs on his guitar, I'll take a husband named poop!
Currently listening : The Heat By Needtobreathe Release date: 28 August, 2007
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Security
February 10, 2008 - Sunday
Current mood: breezy
There are certain things in life you can always count on.
Regardless of whether Puxatony Phil sees his shadow, February 3rd is still really cold.
Orange Juice, when consumed directly after brushing one's teeth, will always be the most disgusting taste one can experience at 7:00 in the morning.
When faced with the likes of Elmer Fudd, Yosemite Sam, or that big mean dog, Bugs Bunny will always prevail.
Wal-Mart will always have approximately 4 lanes open, out of 57, despite the number of people who complain.
These things in life are constant. They stay the same. And some of them may be uncomfortable or unpleasant, but they still, in whatever strange way, make us feel a little more secure. Like the world is the way it should be.
But there are other things in life that aren't so dependable.
I've been dealing a lot lately with insecurity. Maybe not so much insecurity about myself and my appearance (well....perhaps a little, but that's not the crux of the issue), but more of an insecurity about the future.
I wonder if I'm destined for a life of perpetual loneliness, or whether people think I have everything handed to me because I am employed by my parents.
On a daily basis, it seems a throng of questions race through my mind. Will I ever get married? Should I move back to Tennessee? Am I happy in Illinois? What do I want to do for a career? Should I go back to school? What areas am I lacking in? What aspects of my life need more discipline? How am I ever going to conquer this situation?
And I contemplate. And I worry. And I process. But these thoughts never seem to leave me. I am plauged with them.
Every
Single
Day
As I think about this struggle for security in my life, a few Scriptures come to mind. I know that realistically, if I put the citations down here, most people won't go and look them up...I wish you would, but I know you probably won't. Prove me wrong.
Isaiah 55:8-9
Proverbs 3:5-6
Matthew 6:25-34
Ecclesiastes 3:1-15
The last selection of Scripture is one that is very dear to my heart. Most people know the beginning of this verse. It's the portion of the Bible that was made into that 70's song. For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven...etc. What most people don't understand, though, is that when you read the book of Ecclesiastes, the remainder of the book is quite cynical.
Solomon (the author of the Ecclesiastes), was the wisest and wealthiest man in the world at this time. In this book, he is playing the part of an Aristotle, or a Socrates. He is a philosopher who is deeply troubled by what he sees in the world around him. In this book, we see one phrase repeated several times: "under the sun". When Solomon says "under the sun", he is referring to worldly things. The earth is under the sun. Solomon is speaking of the secular, the earthly, that which is apart from God. Solomon finds great despair in the fact that everyone toils under the sun, day in and day out....and all for nothing. This world is going to disappear and fade away.
Everything that is 'under the sun' will one day be no more.
Solomon, and his book of Ecclesiastes are actually rather bleak. But, in the middle of the book we can find Solomon's answer. His glimmer of hope. His light at the end the tunnel.
Ecclesiastes 3:11-15 (ESV) He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end. I perceived that there is nothing better for them than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live; also that everyone should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil -- this is God's gift to man. I perceived that whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it. God has done it, so that poeple fear before him. That which is, already has been; that which is to be, already has been; and God seeks what has been driven away.
I love this Scripture. In fact, I love it so much that I got a portion of it tattooed on my body.
This, to me, is the essence of life.
Here, Solomon is saying that in all of our toil, in all of our worries and insecurities, God has made everything beautiful in its time. God has set eternity on our hearts, so that we always know there's something more. But he has not played it out for us completely, simply because, we're not supposed to know the future. God has always been God, and He always will be. We need to sit back, live our lives, and enjoy ourselves. We can't allow ourselves to get caught up in insecurity and questions all the time. God is God, and he has made everything (EVERYTHING, me, my job, my spouse, my future, my house) beautiful in its time.
I caught part of an episode of Seinfeld the other day. The main storyline in the episode is that Jerry discovers that nothing truly bad ever happens to him. Whenever something troublesome comes along, Jerry realizes that "it all works out in the end." I think this is essentially what Solomon is getting at. Why let all that worry weigh you down? It all works out in the end.
Lighten up and enjoy your life.
I hope reading this blog has helped some of my readers who, like me, get caught up in the details of life. I know writing it and reviewing the Word of God has been a much-needed self-therapy session for me.
I just have to remind myself that I love God, God loved me first. God will provide. And the rest is just details.
So what if I don't know what I want to be when I grow up? I already am grown up! Why does my career have to define who I am? And who cares if I can't make a decision about Tennessee or Illinois? I should just be happy and live the fullest life wherever I am.
I wonder if there will ever come a day "under the sun" when my life will be so full, my heart so content, that I won't have any room for worry. Probably not, but I can look forward to the future, when I am in the presence of the One who made everything beautiful in its time, and I can thank Him for providing for me.
May we find security in knowing that we don't have all the answers in life. And may we put our futures in the hands of a God who has made and will make everything beautiful in its time.
Currently listening : Pages By Shane & Shane Release date: 28 August, 2007
Current mood: breezy
There are certain things in life you can always count on.
Regardless of whether Puxatony Phil sees his shadow, February 3rd is still really cold.
Orange Juice, when consumed directly after brushing one's teeth, will always be the most disgusting taste one can experience at 7:00 in the morning.
When faced with the likes of Elmer Fudd, Yosemite Sam, or that big mean dog, Bugs Bunny will always prevail.
Wal-Mart will always have approximately 4 lanes open, out of 57, despite the number of people who complain.
These things in life are constant. They stay the same. And some of them may be uncomfortable or unpleasant, but they still, in whatever strange way, make us feel a little more secure. Like the world is the way it should be.
But there are other things in life that aren't so dependable.
I've been dealing a lot lately with insecurity. Maybe not so much insecurity about myself and my appearance (well....perhaps a little, but that's not the crux of the issue), but more of an insecurity about the future.
I wonder if I'm destined for a life of perpetual loneliness, or whether people think I have everything handed to me because I am employed by my parents.
On a daily basis, it seems a throng of questions race through my mind. Will I ever get married? Should I move back to Tennessee? Am I happy in Illinois? What do I want to do for a career? Should I go back to school? What areas am I lacking in? What aspects of my life need more discipline? How am I ever going to conquer this situation?
And I contemplate. And I worry. And I process. But these thoughts never seem to leave me. I am plauged with them.
Every
Single
Day
As I think about this struggle for security in my life, a few Scriptures come to mind. I know that realistically, if I put the citations down here, most people won't go and look them up...I wish you would, but I know you probably won't. Prove me wrong.
Isaiah 55:8-9
Proverbs 3:5-6
Matthew 6:25-34
Ecclesiastes 3:1-15
The last selection of Scripture is one that is very dear to my heart. Most people know the beginning of this verse. It's the portion of the Bible that was made into that 70's song. For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven...etc. What most people don't understand, though, is that when you read the book of Ecclesiastes, the remainder of the book is quite cynical.
Solomon (the author of the Ecclesiastes), was the wisest and wealthiest man in the world at this time. In this book, he is playing the part of an Aristotle, or a Socrates. He is a philosopher who is deeply troubled by what he sees in the world around him. In this book, we see one phrase repeated several times: "under the sun". When Solomon says "under the sun", he is referring to worldly things. The earth is under the sun. Solomon is speaking of the secular, the earthly, that which is apart from God. Solomon finds great despair in the fact that everyone toils under the sun, day in and day out....and all for nothing. This world is going to disappear and fade away.
Everything that is 'under the sun' will one day be no more.
Solomon, and his book of Ecclesiastes are actually rather bleak. But, in the middle of the book we can find Solomon's answer. His glimmer of hope. His light at the end the tunnel.
Ecclesiastes 3:11-15 (ESV) He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end. I perceived that there is nothing better for them than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live; also that everyone should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil -- this is God's gift to man. I perceived that whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it. God has done it, so that poeple fear before him. That which is, already has been; that which is to be, already has been; and God seeks what has been driven away.
I love this Scripture. In fact, I love it so much that I got a portion of it tattooed on my body.
This, to me, is the essence of life.
Here, Solomon is saying that in all of our toil, in all of our worries and insecurities, God has made everything beautiful in its time. God has set eternity on our hearts, so that we always know there's something more. But he has not played it out for us completely, simply because, we're not supposed to know the future. God has always been God, and He always will be. We need to sit back, live our lives, and enjoy ourselves. We can't allow ourselves to get caught up in insecurity and questions all the time. God is God, and he has made everything (EVERYTHING, me, my job, my spouse, my future, my house) beautiful in its time.
I caught part of an episode of Seinfeld the other day. The main storyline in the episode is that Jerry discovers that nothing truly bad ever happens to him. Whenever something troublesome comes along, Jerry realizes that "it all works out in the end." I think this is essentially what Solomon is getting at. Why let all that worry weigh you down? It all works out in the end.
Lighten up and enjoy your life.
I hope reading this blog has helped some of my readers who, like me, get caught up in the details of life. I know writing it and reviewing the Word of God has been a much-needed self-therapy session for me.
I just have to remind myself that I love God, God loved me first. God will provide. And the rest is just details.
So what if I don't know what I want to be when I grow up? I already am grown up! Why does my career have to define who I am? And who cares if I can't make a decision about Tennessee or Illinois? I should just be happy and live the fullest life wherever I am.
I wonder if there will ever come a day "under the sun" when my life will be so full, my heart so content, that I won't have any room for worry. Probably not, but I can look forward to the future, when I am in the presence of the One who made everything beautiful in its time, and I can thank Him for providing for me.
May we find security in knowing that we don't have all the answers in life. And may we put our futures in the hands of a God who has made and will make everything beautiful in its time.
Currently listening : Pages By Shane & Shane Release date: 28 August, 2007
Friday, February 1, 2008
High Heels, A Foot of Snow, and My Hero
February 1, 2008 - Friday
Current mood: adventurous
Last winter I lived in the South. Winter weather is handled very differently there than it is here, and I must say that while I thought I was a tough Illinois chick, the snow nearly got the best of me this morning. I missed the snow last year, and I have been longing for a nice snowstorm since I returned to Illinois. Mr. Snow, however, picked the worst possible weekend to try to win me back.
I have been planning to travel back to Nashville to visit for the first time since I moved back to Illinois. The most convenient time for my friends and me happened to be this very weekend. I searched the Internet time and again for the perfect deal on a hotel, and finally came across something that couldn't be beat. A deluxe King Suite in beautiful Brentwood, TN, in a luxury hotel. The catch? It was a non-refundable reservation.
As I watched the weathermen this week, discussing the inevitable snowstorm that was quickly approaching, I resolved to stay positive. "I'm GOING to Nashville," I thought, "And a little bit of snow is NOT going to stop me." And so in mocking defiance, I glared up at the sky and told the snow to bring it.
Last night as I watched the snow falling down, piling itself on my driveway, I maintained my stance. I would not let this snow hinder my weekend plans.
Even this morning, when I glanced out the window to see that our back steps were not visible and my car was buried, I did not lose heart. I just put on my high heel, knee-high boots, my houndstooth print winter coat, my matching scarf and hat and my gloves, and headed outside to show this snow who was boss. You may wonder why I chose to employ the use of my high heeled boots for this experience...well, these boots are the only ones I have that came up far enough on my leg to where snow would not be able to get in. I do own a pair of snow boots (my sister calls them Spice Girl boots because they are all white and maybe a little trampy), but they only come up to about mid-calf, and I was not in the mood to have frostbite on my feet this morning.
So I walked outside in my fashion-forward yet ever-so-practical winter gear, and began brushing off my car. After I had brushed my car, I decided it would be nice for me to shovel a path from the back door of our house, to my sister's car door. I think it was less about me being nice to my sister, and more about me proving that the snow would not bring me down.
By this time, I had already been outside for about half an hour, but I was not cold. As a matter of fact, I was sweating and gross. And my back hurt. I went inside and called my dad, who told me it would be okay for me to just drive through the snow on the driveway, rather than shoveling the whole thing. So I tried it. I made it all the way up to the front of the driveway and got stuck. My car absolutely would not budge. The snow plows had baracaded me in my driveway.
And now I was angry. This snow would NOT have the victory over me and my trip to Nashville today. And so I stomped back up to the house, grabbed my ergonomic shovel, and stomped right back to my car, where I began shoveling. I shoveled like you have never seen before. Snow was flying everywhere. I was grunting with the force of every heavy shovel full of snow I hoisted into the air. After about twenty minutes of this hard work, I was about halfway finished. People had been driving by and staring at me, I think a few even pointed and laughed. It's not every day you see a woman at the front of her driveway in high heels, shoveling snow.
I was almost to my breaking point when I saw him. He was off in the distance and headed straight for me. My hero was on his way. This knight in shining armor did not ride up on a valiant steed, but instead, he was driving a CAT bulldozer. My hero was not clad in a suit of armor, but rather a flannel shirt, jeans and a ball cap. And as he drew near, his smile made me know everything would be better soon. I began to walk backwards to get out of his way and bumped right into my car, nearly falling face first into the snow surrounding my vehicle. The Bridget Jones in me had to rear her ugly head at some point in this romantic fairy tale, I suppose.
I regained my composer as I watched my Superman pull into the driveway once to gather the snow, and then as he repeated again. Had he rolled down his window and asked me to marry him, I would have been in that bulldozer in two seconds. But instead, he didn't say a word. He just nodded, smiled, tipped his ballcap to me, and drove off into the distance leaving only his memory behind.
I felt like Lois Lane....or a princess. And as I prepare to leave for Nashville today, I will once again scoff at the snow and remember my brave champion who so perfectly rescued me from my distress this morning.
Currently listening : The Heat By Needtobreathe Release date: 28 August, 2007
Current mood: adventurous
Last winter I lived in the South. Winter weather is handled very differently there than it is here, and I must say that while I thought I was a tough Illinois chick, the snow nearly got the best of me this morning. I missed the snow last year, and I have been longing for a nice snowstorm since I returned to Illinois. Mr. Snow, however, picked the worst possible weekend to try to win me back.
I have been planning to travel back to Nashville to visit for the first time since I moved back to Illinois. The most convenient time for my friends and me happened to be this very weekend. I searched the Internet time and again for the perfect deal on a hotel, and finally came across something that couldn't be beat. A deluxe King Suite in beautiful Brentwood, TN, in a luxury hotel. The catch? It was a non-refundable reservation.
As I watched the weathermen this week, discussing the inevitable snowstorm that was quickly approaching, I resolved to stay positive. "I'm GOING to Nashville," I thought, "And a little bit of snow is NOT going to stop me." And so in mocking defiance, I glared up at the sky and told the snow to bring it.
Last night as I watched the snow falling down, piling itself on my driveway, I maintained my stance. I would not let this snow hinder my weekend plans.
Even this morning, when I glanced out the window to see that our back steps were not visible and my car was buried, I did not lose heart. I just put on my high heel, knee-high boots, my houndstooth print winter coat, my matching scarf and hat and my gloves, and headed outside to show this snow who was boss. You may wonder why I chose to employ the use of my high heeled boots for this experience...well, these boots are the only ones I have that came up far enough on my leg to where snow would not be able to get in. I do own a pair of snow boots (my sister calls them Spice Girl boots because they are all white and maybe a little trampy), but they only come up to about mid-calf, and I was not in the mood to have frostbite on my feet this morning.
So I walked outside in my fashion-forward yet ever-so-practical winter gear, and began brushing off my car. After I had brushed my car, I decided it would be nice for me to shovel a path from the back door of our house, to my sister's car door. I think it was less about me being nice to my sister, and more about me proving that the snow would not bring me down.
By this time, I had already been outside for about half an hour, but I was not cold. As a matter of fact, I was sweating and gross. And my back hurt. I went inside and called my dad, who told me it would be okay for me to just drive through the snow on the driveway, rather than shoveling the whole thing. So I tried it. I made it all the way up to the front of the driveway and got stuck. My car absolutely would not budge. The snow plows had baracaded me in my driveway.
And now I was angry. This snow would NOT have the victory over me and my trip to Nashville today. And so I stomped back up to the house, grabbed my ergonomic shovel, and stomped right back to my car, where I began shoveling. I shoveled like you have never seen before. Snow was flying everywhere. I was grunting with the force of every heavy shovel full of snow I hoisted into the air. After about twenty minutes of this hard work, I was about halfway finished. People had been driving by and staring at me, I think a few even pointed and laughed. It's not every day you see a woman at the front of her driveway in high heels, shoveling snow.
I was almost to my breaking point when I saw him. He was off in the distance and headed straight for me. My hero was on his way. This knight in shining armor did not ride up on a valiant steed, but instead, he was driving a CAT bulldozer. My hero was not clad in a suit of armor, but rather a flannel shirt, jeans and a ball cap. And as he drew near, his smile made me know everything would be better soon. I began to walk backwards to get out of his way and bumped right into my car, nearly falling face first into the snow surrounding my vehicle. The Bridget Jones in me had to rear her ugly head at some point in this romantic fairy tale, I suppose.
I regained my composer as I watched my Superman pull into the driveway once to gather the snow, and then as he repeated again. Had he rolled down his window and asked me to marry him, I would have been in that bulldozer in two seconds. But instead, he didn't say a word. He just nodded, smiled, tipped his ballcap to me, and drove off into the distance leaving only his memory behind.
I felt like Lois Lane....or a princess. And as I prepare to leave for Nashville today, I will once again scoff at the snow and remember my brave champion who so perfectly rescued me from my distress this morning.
Currently listening : The Heat By Needtobreathe Release date: 28 August, 2007
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