CAUTION: Woman In Progress

My middle sister (Sis2, if you're new here...or if you're here at all) gave me one of those Amope electric nail file/buffer tools for my birthday. I did not ask for one because I do okay with some clippers and an emery board but she said she was trying to give me something "useful" instead of "decorative" because I was in the midst of purging my house of useless crap right around my birthday. When was the last time I was here, btw? Did you know I had a birthday? I've now got my shoulder pressed hard against 40, y'all and I really haven't started to care yet. Maybe next year when 40 stops pushing back and I fall face first into middle age. (Is 40 middle age?) Anyway, so the fingernail tool thingy. Yeah. If you're ever thinking of getting a loved one something like that, make sure he/she is really into nail care. I am not, in case you haven't figured that out. I have crap nails. They peel and split once they reach a certain length so I ...

I've been sort of walking a bit this week. Not Denise Austin style, but rather, you know, walking. Started last week, actually. Just a little stroll around and behind the drill field. This week, though, I brought some actual walking shoes to wear instead of my flip flops. At first, I felt a little self conscious walking around in my dress slacks and beat up hand-me-down New Balance. But then my feet were so happy I decided I didn't care. I don't think I'm getting a whole lot of what most people would define as exercise. I doubt my route is even half a mile and my pace is rather slow. But I'm out there anyway, plodding along in the warm Autumn sunshine. It feels good just to get out and move after so long cooped up avoiding any melting sensations. And while my knees are still not really on good terms with me yet, they are not unhappy to be up and gently moving. Though there were some nasty words exchanged the three or so times I took the stairs the other day. :-...

For the past two mornings stepping outside has been...well, the temps being 68 degrees at 6:30 am?? One word comes to mind: Bliss. The air has had a taste of Fall in it that has my entire being ashiver with delight. (Ashiver. heh.) While I know without a doubt that it won't last--we have a good five weeks left left to endure 90-something degree temps--my summer weary soul is craving a big pot a chili, an open window of cool autumn air and a fuzzy blanket. I can almost TASTE that chili. It has my mouth watering. Even yesterday afternoon when I left work, the air had a nice crisp breeze in it and the sun wasn't scalding. I thought, Mmmm, wouldn't a big pot of chili hit the spot right now? Unfortunately, by the time I got home, the crisp was gone and the air was thick and heavy again. Drat. So, forgive me but I can't help saying a selfish prayer: Please, God, let Fall come early and last long this year!

...can not walk and carry coffee at the same time. Dribbled coffee all down the hallway at work. But if anyone asks, it wasn't me! Pay no attention to the dark stains on my shirt. ...am not good at making jokes on email. Sis1 totally took me seriously when I told her I'd be furious at her if she didn't spend the weekend with me. Even though I told her I was just kidding. And even though she knows it drives me nuts when she spends weekends at my house. ...give good cookie.  Lyssa told her mama that "Aunt Jana can make me some more M&M cookies for my birfday," when asked what food she wants at her party tomorrow. So. Guess what I'll be doing tonight. ...get too expressive about food. D just laughed at me for describing a cookie as not being as "brown sugary" as another cookie. Brown sugary is totally a food description, right? ...read too many food blogs. My recipe printout drawer is overflowing. Even though I really only read three food b...

I've been thinking a lot lately about how there are some things about myself that I don't like. Some things about myself that aren't true to Christianity. For one thing, I don't study my Bible as often as I should. (Or ever, outside of church. *wince*) For another, I'm a horrible gossip and very judge-y. I criticize anyone who I don't like or understand.  Also, I'm terribly selfish. Are ya'll completely shocked? Or did you already know? Ack! Anyway, Jesus has been dealing with me a lot on these issues lately. They're on my mind a lot and I mentally kick me when I catch myself exhibiting any of those loathsome behaviors. Oh! I forgot one! I'm also horrifyingly self-righteous! I'm just a gol-darned peach, ain't I? *shudder* As I was saying, before I so rudely interrupted myself, He's been dealing with me about these things. I, personally, believe that Grace is often extended when we're ignorantly sinning (even if just a litt...

Okay, so admittedly in prior months I've been shallowly drooling over a particularly muscular (and squickily underage) werewolf via Twilight. Yes, the muscles are droolworthy for sure. But I was team Jacob way before I ever saw Taylor Lautner's washboard abs. I've been thinking lately about the kind of men I'm attracted to. Not that it matters since no one's ever attracted to me but it's just kinda funny to think about what it is that draws me to certain men. Both in real life and in television, movies and books. Probably the biggest thing I've discovered about myself is that physical features aka looks-- while nice-- certainly don't really mean all that much to me. Character does. Take my obsession with Chuck. Yes, Zachary Levi is (to me) physically attractive. But I hadn't really thought of him in that way until I started watching Chuck . And yeah, I had seen him in other movies/tv shows before. He was on Less Than Perfect (sitcom on ABC,...

I often ask myself this. Why do I blog? Why does anyone? For me, I think it's mostly because in the real world (as opposed to this "fake one?" lol) I often don't get heard. I open my mouth, (fairly coherent) words come out but is it truly considered speaking if no one hears you? And not to say that I have a broad audience on the web (hi all four commenters!) but I know that at least four people love me enough to actually hear at least SOME of what I say. Can't say the same for the 100's 10's of people I pass by or speak to face to face every day. And for as little as I seem to have going on in my life, it's nice to have a place I can come to and over share my thoughts. I can get gritty depressed and moan or get all giggly and stupid and rave over Zachary Levi and I don't have to really worry about how silly or pathetic anyone thinks I am. I mean, y'all might roll your eyes or mutter under your breath at me but I can't see or hear you! ...

It's no secret that I do not care much for Valentine's Day. I'm not even going to lie anymore and say that it's because it's a stupid holiday (even though it so totally IS). It's more because I never have (and have never had) a special fella to celebrate it with. It's depressing to be reminded that I'm such a loser that no man wants me. (Let me wallow, people.) What I never expected was for Mother's Day to have a similiar effect one day. Never. I haven't wanted kids of my own since I was in my early 20's. Wasn't even sure back then that I truly wanted them. But certainly, Mother's Day wasn't ever a day for wallowing in self pity at my childless state. It was about Mama. But this weekend...oy. I was weepy and sad at the thought realization that I will never be a mother. Yeah, sure, furbabies are awesome. I so utterly love Libby as if I'd given birth to her. I'm not ashamed to admit that I love her more than I love m...

...a year older. ...suffering from adult acne. It's painful. And okay, so it's ONE ZIT. But please. I'm 31 now. Can I send it back? Please? ...a little fluffier than I'd like to be. Which is saying a lot since I'm normally huge already. ...happy. ...sad. ...thankful for all the awesome people in my life. I wish I appreciated them better. I'm a terrible friend/daughter/sister. ...wishing life came with an instruction manual. ...thrilled that I'm the favorite aunt. ...a little sad that I can't be with my nieces and nephew more. Holding hands with a two-year old is more precious than words. So is a 5 month old who falls asleep on my chest almost the instant I take him in my arms. ...feeling as though I've figured a few things out, growing up and discovering life. ...wondering why I let myself be vulnerable. And wishing I could allow myself to do it more often. ...thinking that a break with my friends is in order. Even though I took...

Sometimes the only time people hear me is when I don't say a word. But should I open my mouth and speak, they go suddenly deaf. There are days, much like today, (and yesterday evening) that my life would have been much richer had I never lived it. It is unjust that the wills of others change the direction of my life without my consent. If our church is a family, then I am the ugly stepchild. Sometimes speaking your mind is like putting ten dollars worth of gas in your car...it might take you a little further down the road but isn't nearly enough to get you where you're going. Somehow the world always knows when I am on the path to healthy eating...it's then that the world throws as much garbage as it can at me. It knows I am an emotional eater and it conspires to keep me fat. I wish chocolate really could cure all. I'd go swimming in it. Compassion isn't just a word. It's an action. If your mind is already made up nothing anyone else can do w...

You know, dogs are fun. They're up in your face, givin' you kisses and sharing their doggy breath. They do goofy things like beg for treats and belly rubs and listen when you talk. But cats...Cats are the feline version of a snotty high school cheerleader. lol I'm not overly fond of cats, really. Don't get me wrong. I think they're adorable. I even look at (and giggle at) LOL Cats. (as witnessed here on this blog.) But cats in "person"? Not really. I grew up with a horde of cats. They're good cuddlers. But they're also painful scratchers. And at some point along the timeline of my life I developed a bit of a fear of them. As in, if I cross paths with one, I go the long way to avoid actually coming near it. And should one take a liking to me? And want to sit in my lap? Or rub my legs? I nearly hyperventilate. I mean, I'll pet it and talk to it but it's with this sort of glazed  get-this-thing-offa-me-before-it-kills-me panic. It may or...

So Friday night during Ghost Whisperer, I gave myself a pedicure. Well, I didn't paint or shape my toe nails. I just soaked my feet and scraped the junk off. (Ewe. Right?) Something you may not know about me (and could probably live happily never knowing...oh well!) is that I have horrible feet. Callouses on my toes and heels, cracked heels--you know those commercials for the Ped Egg when they show really nasty feet? Yeah. Mine are WAY worse. Something about the way I walk (I'm flat footed) makes my big toe on my right foot grow a callous the size of Montana if I'm not dilligent in keeping it scraped. And yeah, I realize this is gross, but bare with me. I do have a point. So anyway, while I was scraping my feet, I had another Paw-Paw memory. Weird, right? LOL But most of the things I recall the easiest about him are weird. We're a strange family, what can I say? Anyway, back a couple of years ago before he got so sick, we were sitting in church chatting like usu...

When I first started my job as a library staff, I was a fresh faced twenty-two year old who had just obtained a BA in Communication. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life upon graduation--no goals or ambition--and I was pretty certain that my timidity would do little toward securing me a job in the Broadcasting field in which I was so newly educated. What I did know was that I liked working at the library. I'd worked there through the entire four years of college as a student assistant in Acquisitions. After the first couple of years I'd begun receiving staff tasks and duties (because the staff I worked with weren't terribly productive) and this gave me such a huge sense of belonging. I loved my job in Acquisitions. I loved the flow of it, the pace--I even grew to be comfortable speaking with book vendors and billing agencies. What I also knew was that I wanted to move out of the folk's house. After twenty-two years of being smothered, I'd had enough. I nee...

Or make us wish we were dead, doesn’t really matter. Or so I feel, anyway. I read this article on MSN this morning about how dangerous wearing flip flops can be. Not because you might slice your toe open or something really dangerous like that. No. They meant because of germs . Yes. You heard me. Germs. Those things that are everywhere and impossible to avoid. Those things that, unless they come into contact with your nose, mouth or eyes or say, an open wound, can’t really hurt you. Yeah, they definitely aren’t good, but you know, things are germy. Feet are germy. Fact: flip flops or not, feet are germy. Granted, yes, the germ factor is raised when your feet are practically bare. But they’re feet. It’s not like you go around licking them. And I never heard of anyone dying from wearing flip flops. So until someone does, I’ll be wearing mine. Thanks. Also, you know all the hoopla about toilets, right? How each flush yields a ton of germ spray? It gets all over everything? I was just re...

I don't write my blogs in quite the same manner that I used to. It's weird, too, 'cause I don't really consider myself to have changed all that much in the past three years. I suppose I have, I just didn't realize it until I started a project that entailed printing out all my past blog entries. In doing so, I've sort of skimmed through some of them from when I first started this blog. I was a little surprised to see that my "voice" has changed a lot on here since then. For one, I finally started remembering to use spell check. Something, I'm sad to say, I didn't do a lot of back in the day. And boy, can you tell it! My spelling is atrocious! LOL I even have a post here somewhere that details that fact but still...if a publisher were to ever read this blog they'd never even THINK of signing me to a book contract. hehehe For another thing my LIFE has changed a lot in three years. I've been injured, gave a dog away, got a new dog, moved ho...

And so it is 2009. So many things to reflect on from 2008. A year of changes behind me, a year of changes ahead of me. 2008 saw me moving from the home I first made for myself at the tender age of twenty-two. The home where independence lived for the first time in my sheltered life. It was a good (ish) home for most of the time I lived there. Not without it's problems, certainly, but it was the house freedom made. At least, that's what it was for me. But as happens often in our lives, a time comes to move on. No matter how comfortable a soul might be, when the bad outweighs the good, it's all you can do. And so I did. It was the biggest, the hardest and the most freeing decision I'd made in a looong time. Here I am seven months into my temporary holding place, praying for a new home in 2009. Possibilities are abundant and my faith is strong. God took me from what had become a personal hell and placed me in a new apartment with new experiences, new headaches and a cleare...

It's hard being a girl. There is so much pressure and expectation placed on girls/women. Find a man. Make babies. Provide grandchildren. For some of us (me) those expectations are seemingly impossible. I always thought my mom was okay with me being (and remaining) single. I thought she had accepted a long time ago that I would never marry or have babies. I certainly did. I guess since I had accepted it (and really, isn't my acceptance of it the important part?) I thought my family had as well. And I don't really know that she hasn't. Just something she said today at lunch. She and I were watching Mr. Food on the midday news and he was showing the "quick and simple" way to set your Thanksgiving table. I remarked that I wondered if anyone actually had those idyllic Thanksgiving tables because certainly we never had. Thanksgiving in my family consists of a counter full of food and a mad dash by two dozen people (or more, depending on which cousins get to come) ...

Christmas is buzzing in library-land. We're having a Gala Showcase tomorrow night and the theme is, of course, Christmas. The library smells wistfully of pine and is elegant in all things green, red and gold. It's all very lovely but... It's early November. We haven't even celebrated Thanksgiving. It feels entirely too early. But, then, this is from a chick who used to start playing Christmas music in October. Who just today bought two new Christmas CD's and the DVD of Garfield's old Christmas special. I couldn't help myself. *sigh* I love the Christmas season. I can't lie. I mean, I could, but I won't. It's my most favorite season of the year. Everything glitters. Everything smells better. There's a sort of excitement in the air that I don't really feel any other time. Granted, the "feel good" of the season has lessened as I get older and the world gets more and more PC, sucking all the joy from it. But that's a rant for an...

To those who have disappeared from my life, I wish you well. You're friendship was a treasure and forever will be. I may never know why you left. May never understand it but I'm sure you had your reasons. I miss you. I may always miss you. For certain, I will think of you often. I will remember all the love and support you granted me, for however brief a time. I suppose there comes a time in each relationship when the purpose for being in each others life is served. At that point we must move on. But know this--whatever your purpose for being in my life, you are loved. You are appreciated. You will be remembered with great fondness for the joy you are. And should we never meet again understand that you will always be in my heart. I take you with me wherever I go, fully resting in the knowledge that our friendship had value, merit and will last me a lifetime, though you have chosen to remove yourself from it. Should you ever need me, should you ever choose to resume the friends...

You want to know something I realized recently? Actual baby moms have all the luck. Sure, sure, they get stuck with whiny, dirty kids and hafta wipe butts and get up all hours of the night. But no one ever looks at them strangely when they ask you to babysit. And the grandparents--they're all over it. Offering to keep the kid, begging for sleepovers, etc. Puppy moms? We're moms who never get a break. And puppies stay puppies the rest of their lives. It's like having a two year old for ten years (or more, God willing.) We must take care of our babies all the time. Dogs, especially, are helpless without us. We must take them out to potty every hour or so when we're home, put up with their begging, play with them, snuggle with them, scold them when they're bad. Sure, I get to put Libs in her crate at night but lately, like clockwork, she wakes me up crying in the wee hours of the morning. We're talking mid-night to 2 am. I don't get a break from being her ...