I hate setting an alarm on Sunday mornings, but I did so I wouldn't sleep through this interview!
Mental note: I need to stop flicking my hair!
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
Tongue-tied
I literally spent so much time talking earlier this week that the words just wouldn't fit together anymore. Typically I'm spot-on with TV interviews, especially the taped ones, but by Tuesday afternoon, forgetaboutit. It was all I could do to create coherent sentences!
Here's a piece from Today Show this morning that I taped on Tuesday. The first sentence out of my mouth was so convoluted I had to listen to it twice. It does make sense, but it's not typically how I would have worded things.
Here's a piece from Today Show this morning that I taped on Tuesday. The first sentence out of my mouth was so convoluted I had to listen to it twice. It does make sense, but it's not typically how I would have worded things.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
'Tis the season
If you have two minutes, you have to watch this TV segment about a little boy's dying wish. It brought tears to my eyes.
Oh, what we all have to be thankful for.
Oh, what we all have to be thankful for.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Crash course
We paused our movie on Friday night for a bathroom break and a trip upstairs for more soda. I was back on the couch snuggled under my blanket when I started to hear strange noises.
thud. bang. crash. groan. smack. yelp. boom. screech...
I crept to the bottom of the stairs, realizing that if someone had broken into our house, I wasn't exactly going to be well-positioned to fight them off. I've always been a wimp.
"Chad?" [silence] "What are you doing?" I imagine the worst.
"Just wrestling with Lucy," he replied.
Of course. Why didn't I think of that?!?
thud. bang. crash. groan. smack. yelp. boom. screech...
I crept to the bottom of the stairs, realizing that if someone had broken into our house, I wasn't exactly going to be well-positioned to fight them off. I've always been a wimp.
"Chad?" [silence] "What are you doing?" I imagine the worst.
"Just wrestling with Lucy," he replied.
Of course. Why didn't I think of that?!?
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
The bird and...the other bird
This seems appropriate given that Thanksgiving is almost two weeks away!
A woman recently received a parrot as a gift. The parrot had a bad attitude and an even worse vocabulary. Every word out of the bird's mouth was rude, obnoxious and laced with profanity. She tried and tried to change the bird's attitude by consistently saying only polite words, playing soft music and anything else she could think of to 'clean up' the bird's vocabulary.
Finally, she was fed up and yelled at the parrot. The parrot yelled back. She shook the parrot and the parrot got angrier and more rude. So, in desperation, she threw up her hands, grabbed the bird and threw him in the freezer.
For a few minutes the parrot squawked and kicked and screamed. Then, suddenly, there was total quiet. Fearing that she hurt the parrot, the woman quickly opened the door to the freezer.
The parrot calmly stepped out onto her outstretched arm and said, "I believe I may have offended you with my rude language and actions. I'm sincerely remorseful for my inappropriate transgressions and I fully intend to do everything I can to correct my rude and unforgivable behavior."
She was stunned at the change in the bird's attitude.
As the woman was about to ask the parrot what had made such a dramatic change in his behavior, the bird continued, "May I ask what the turkey did?"
A woman recently received a parrot as a gift. The parrot had a bad attitude and an even worse vocabulary. Every word out of the bird's mouth was rude, obnoxious and laced with profanity. She tried and tried to change the bird's attitude by consistently saying only polite words, playing soft music and anything else she could think of to 'clean up' the bird's vocabulary.
Finally, she was fed up and yelled at the parrot. The parrot yelled back. She shook the parrot and the parrot got angrier and more rude. So, in desperation, she threw up her hands, grabbed the bird and threw him in the freezer.
For a few minutes the parrot squawked and kicked and screamed. Then, suddenly, there was total quiet. Fearing that she hurt the parrot, the woman quickly opened the door to the freezer.
The parrot calmly stepped out onto her outstretched arm and said, "I believe I may have offended you with my rude language and actions. I'm sincerely remorseful for my inappropriate transgressions and I fully intend to do everything I can to correct my rude and unforgivable behavior."
She was stunned at the change in the bird's attitude.
As the woman was about to ask the parrot what had made such a dramatic change in his behavior, the bird continued, "May I ask what the turkey did?"
Friday, November 14, 2008
Personal space
Every now and then when we're watching TV, Lucy totally disappears.
Sometimes she's wandered upstairs, or has tucked herself in snugly between the footstool and the chair Chad sits in. The other night, here's where we found her.
Maybe she dislikes scary movies as much as I do.
Sometimes she's wandered upstairs, or has tucked herself in snugly between the footstool and the chair Chad sits in. The other night, here's where we found her.
Maybe she dislikes scary movies as much as I do.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Baby mania
We are so lucky to have such great friends who became parents this year. Some for the first time and some for the second or third time. A rundown:
Trippton Pierce: February 2008
Patrick Thomas: February 2008
Cailey Nicole: March 2008
Hazel Matilda: May 2008
Sophie Lynn: July 2008
Claire: July 2008
Eric Matthew: July 2008
Garrett Edward and Brennan Paul--twins!: August 2008
(Then there was a dry spell...or I'm just having a brain freeze)
Sarah Kaitlin: Sunday
and...
Violet Lynne: Yesterday
Is this fun or what? And in the next month, we get to welcome a niece or nephew, plus another wave of friends' babies.
Our fridge is so full with baby announcements, Chad and I had to agree on a "one on, one off" policy.
Trippton Pierce: February 2008
Patrick Thomas: February 2008
Cailey Nicole: March 2008
Hazel Matilda: May 2008
Sophie Lynn: July 2008
Claire: July 2008
Eric Matthew: July 2008
Garrett Edward and Brennan Paul--twins!: August 2008
(Then there was a dry spell...or I'm just having a brain freeze)
Sarah Kaitlin: Sunday
and...
Violet Lynne: Yesterday
Is this fun or what? And in the next month, we get to welcome a niece or nephew, plus another wave of friends' babies.
Our fridge is so full with baby announcements, Chad and I had to agree on a "one on, one off" policy.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Merci, Monsieur Nusbaum
I'm no good at goodbyes. I avoid them like the plague. And if you know me well enough, I've probably tried to dodge a few of them with you, too, with my "Oh, I'm sure I'll see you soon," or "I'll stop by before I leave..." phrases. I don't like goodbyes, so I just look forward to the next meeting.
But sometimes that doesn't happen.
A little less than a year ago, I was told that one of my favorite high school teachers had pancreatic cancer. I spent three years in Mr. Nusbaum's French class (under my French name, Elise) learning everything from proper French grammar to how to make a quiche. Mr. Nusbaum was one of the most quiet, kindhearted men I have ever, ever met. I took French in college and hated it, which was more a testament to how fabulous Mr. Nusbaum was than anything else.
One of my most poignant (yet mortifying) memories from his class came in my third year. It was the beginning of the hour and we were making small talk, as we did every day to open up the class. One of my classmates, a guy who went by the name of Jean-Paul, came to French after gym class and his cheeks were always bright red at the beginning of the hour. Mr. Nusbaum asked me to tell him about someone in the room, and I said "Jean-Paul est chaud."
Mr. Nusbaum literally almost fell off of his stool: I had said Jean-Paul was hot. I was mortified and, as I remember it, Mr. Nusbaum was shaking with laughter (as was everyone else). My cheeks by that point were as red as Jean-Paul's! Though I was embarrassed beyond belief, I look back on that moment with fondness--it was one of the only times I had seen Mr. Nusbaum emerge from the scholarly, steady persona he created for the benefit of all of us.
So then we fast-forward, a dozen years later. It didn't seem possible that someone so young could have a terminal illness. He was younger than my grandparents. Younger than my parents, even! How on earth is that fair!?!
Still, he passed away on Saturday. I grieve for his wife and for all of the students who will never experience his classroom. Selfishly, I grieve for myself, because I never "got around" to sending him a note about what an impression he made on my high school years.
Mr. Nusbaum, who shared his love of French and contagious personality with all of us, was a gifted teacher who was taken too early. He will never know how much he meant to students like me because we didn't tell him in time.
I'm going to make a mental note to do a better job of not shying away from the sentimental goodbyes or the words of thanks, just in case I don't run into those influential people again. I invite you to do the same. I imagine there are a handful of people in all of our lives who might take great comfort and pride in the fact that they meant so much to someone else.
But sometimes that doesn't happen.
A little less than a year ago, I was told that one of my favorite high school teachers had pancreatic cancer. I spent three years in Mr. Nusbaum's French class (under my French name, Elise) learning everything from proper French grammar to how to make a quiche. Mr. Nusbaum was one of the most quiet, kindhearted men I have ever, ever met. I took French in college and hated it, which was more a testament to how fabulous Mr. Nusbaum was than anything else.
One of my most poignant (yet mortifying) memories from his class came in my third year. It was the beginning of the hour and we were making small talk, as we did every day to open up the class. One of my classmates, a guy who went by the name of Jean-Paul, came to French after gym class and his cheeks were always bright red at the beginning of the hour. Mr. Nusbaum asked me to tell him about someone in the room, and I said "Jean-Paul est chaud."
Mr. Nusbaum literally almost fell off of his stool: I had said Jean-Paul was hot. I was mortified and, as I remember it, Mr. Nusbaum was shaking with laughter (as was everyone else). My cheeks by that point were as red as Jean-Paul's! Though I was embarrassed beyond belief, I look back on that moment with fondness--it was one of the only times I had seen Mr. Nusbaum emerge from the scholarly, steady persona he created for the benefit of all of us.
So then we fast-forward, a dozen years later. It didn't seem possible that someone so young could have a terminal illness. He was younger than my grandparents. Younger than my parents, even! How on earth is that fair!?!
Still, he passed away on Saturday. I grieve for his wife and for all of the students who will never experience his classroom. Selfishly, I grieve for myself, because I never "got around" to sending him a note about what an impression he made on my high school years.
Mr. Nusbaum, who shared his love of French and contagious personality with all of us, was a gifted teacher who was taken too early. He will never know how much he meant to students like me because we didn't tell him in time.
I'm going to make a mental note to do a better job of not shying away from the sentimental goodbyes or the words of thanks, just in case I don't run into those influential people again. I invite you to do the same. I imagine there are a handful of people in all of our lives who might take great comfort and pride in the fact that they meant so much to someone else.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Name-calling
I've really been getting a kick out of the names reporters have been calling me these last few weeks. A few of my favorites:
(and, my favorite)
Fortunately, today's USA Today got it right.
If I'm going to be all of those things, perhaps I should consider demanding a higher salary. Or at least be able to expense my haircuts and make-up!
Sunday sacrifices
A big thanks to Chad's Granddad Rhodes for sending one of the funniest jokes I've seen in ages:
One Sunday morning, the pastor noticed a little boy named Alex standing in the foyer of the church staring up at a large plaque. It was covered with names and small American flags mounted on either side of it.
The six-year old had been staring at the plaque for some time, so the pastor walked up, stood beside the little boy, and said quietly, "Good morning Alex."
"Good morning," he replied, still focused on the plaque. "Pastor, what is this?"
The pastor said, "Well, son, it's a memorial to all the young men and women who died in the service."
Soberly, they just stood together, staring at the large plaque.
Finally, little Alex's voice, barely audible and trembling with fear, asked, "Which service...the 8:30 or the 10:45?"
One Sunday morning, the pastor noticed a little boy named Alex standing in the foyer of the church staring up at a large plaque. It was covered with names and small American flags mounted on either side of it.
The six-year old had been staring at the plaque for some time, so the pastor walked up, stood beside the little boy, and said quietly, "Good morning Alex."
"Good morning," he replied, still focused on the plaque. "Pastor, what is this?"
The pastor said, "Well, son, it's a memorial to all the young men and women who died in the service."
Soberly, they just stood together, staring at the large plaque.
Finally, little Alex's voice, barely audible and trembling with fear, asked, "Which service...the 8:30 or the 10:45?"
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Swing state
The outcome of the Presidential election in Virginia is up in the air and it's made living here this last month almost intolerable. Coupled with the fact that we're so close to DC and in a swing state, the election has been everywhere: people trying to talk up one guy over another, signs all over the place, messages left on the answering machine while we're at work... And of course people at work are another story, as everyone has their pet issue that they're sure the next President will make his #1 priority.
I've been lobbied so much for and against certain candidates that it almost makes my head spin. And it's divisive enough that I've passed more than one yard with both a McCain and an Obama sign in it.
I was out walking Lucy several weeks ago and literally passed four different people who were going door-to-door campaigning (the northern part of VA is mostly liberal, so they were all out for Obama). I applaud their fortitude and enthusiasm, but don't bug me when I'm trying to watch football on a Sunday, ok? And don't leave crap hanging on my door or send me junk mail either. Your "clever" t-shirts and bumper stickers knocking the candidates insult me and your rhetoric about how the sky will fall if someone loses makes me roll my eyes. Enough, already!
One of our friends got so sick of people coming to the door in support of the candidates that she put a sign out front that said, "don't bother knocking--we've already voted." (In Virginia, it's really easy to vote absentee and a lot of people did, including Chad.) Why didn't I think of that?
Regardless of who wins--and I do have a preference--I am most excited for Election Day to be o-v-e-r. When I voted this morning at 7 a.m., I closed the book on the whole thing.
Now, if I can only get past Inauguration Day.
I've been lobbied so much for and against certain candidates that it almost makes my head spin. And it's divisive enough that I've passed more than one yard with both a McCain and an Obama sign in it.
I was out walking Lucy several weeks ago and literally passed four different people who were going door-to-door campaigning (the northern part of VA is mostly liberal, so they were all out for Obama). I applaud their fortitude and enthusiasm, but don't bug me when I'm trying to watch football on a Sunday, ok? And don't leave crap hanging on my door or send me junk mail either. Your "clever" t-shirts and bumper stickers knocking the candidates insult me and your rhetoric about how the sky will fall if someone loses makes me roll my eyes. Enough, already!
One of our friends got so sick of people coming to the door in support of the candidates that she put a sign out front that said, "don't bother knocking--we've already voted." (In Virginia, it's really easy to vote absentee and a lot of people did, including Chad.) Why didn't I think of that?
Regardless of who wins--and I do have a preference--I am most excited for Election Day to be o-v-e-r. When I voted this morning at 7 a.m., I closed the book on the whole thing.
Now, if I can only get past Inauguration Day.
Monday, November 3, 2008
The Dog Whisperer
I realized tonight that Lucy actually understands words. Among them:
- Upstairs
- Downstairs
- Outside
- Go for a walk
- Go for a ride
- Dog park
- Sit
- Time to eat
- High-five
- High-ten (thank you, Janice...)
- Bed
- Bone
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