Sunday night while having dinner with a friend and his kids, the conversation topic was (for a brief moment because that's really all you get with three pre-teens at the table) over the use of profanity. Brought up entirely by the kids, but so relevant at the time (i.e. recent struggles with my own child's use of the wash-your-mouth-out kind of language and just a personal offense to the everyday, thoughtless and careless use of such language).
But the oh-so-smart statement that was made to all those foul-mouthed sailors out there....
"using bad words is a sign of your IQ. It just means you can't think of more intelligent words to use."
Love it! Love. it. Love, love, love it!
Don't get me wrong, as my friend Jori would say, there is much appreciation to be had for the well placed curse word. It's the unwarranted, nonessential, flippant use of such words that appall me.
Timely enough, the JHigh pastor over at church, posted a link to another pastor's video on such topic. Just thought I'd share.
The habit of changing is not easy. I know that first hand, habits are hard to break. However, I was given some advice recently that can be applied to so many situations, "we grow more in times of stress. Just like when we exercise our muscles by working out; we strain them and stress them and even deprive them of oxygen in order for them to grow and fine tune, so does our own character."
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
The Swinging Door
Have you ever gotten yourself involved in a project that seems to never end? I'm in the middle of this never ending process to replace my patio door. It seems to be one nightmare after another and I just can't get a minute of peace about the thing.
The back door project is becoming a regular time bugler in my life.
Sad thing is, that I did not intentionally decide one day that "I would really enjoy changing that patio door because...
...it just isn't the right style for me
or
...i'd really like my back patio door to be another color
or
...i'm feeling uber industrious with tons of my time on my hands, so I think I am going to dive into a home improvement project of my choice."
No. Not anything even close.
I have this really great neighbor that lives around the corner from me. He loves me. Really. He. loves. me. One of those guys that would do just about anything for me. He is sort of like having a honey around to do the honey do's, except he my honey.
The deal is that my sweet, dear friend knew that I had been having some problems with water seeping in around the back door during torrential downpours, like hurricane Ike or the recent flood days we had here in West Houston just wanted to do something nice. Something helpful to remedy the situation. Something as simple as replace the weather stripping on the back door.
So, when he showed up unannounced with tools in hand one day and waltzed right to the back door and started working with hardly a word spoken I thought nothing of it. It took him no time at all to remove the door from the hinges and strip off the old weather stripping, when he turned and somewhat solemnly announced that the door was rotted and he would not be able to replace the weather stripping.
You know what that means, right? My ten dollar weather stripping replacement job (that I did not even initiate- keep that in mind) was turning into a door replacement project that I soon found out would run upwards of $700.00 with installation.
Can you say YIKES!?!?
To make this rather lengthy story a little shorter, I'll just tell you that after picking myself up off the floor when I received that extraordinary quote, I humbly picked up the phone and called my real knight in shining armor and household fix it all friend and kindly offered him multiple home cooked meals to help with the door installation process. Guess what? He accepted and I just knew it would be a breeze from here on out.
But I sit here now, writing this post to tell you that I have never endured so much agony in all my life! This door situation has left me thinking that it may have been easier to put a for sale sign in the front yard and just pack up and move to a new home with a nice, tight fitting, weather stripped back door.
The tedious problems that I am having at this point though have nothing to do with said, knight in shining armor who is actually being ever so patient with me, but with my own stupidity. From the shopping process to the transportation of the door home, I have had multiple challenges.
But, the icing on the cake was my painting mishap. I picked out this really great red color to enjoy on the exterior when I am sitting on the patio enjoying a nice cold beer or glass of wine. Hoping that it will enhance the whole patio experience that was actually my original home improvement project for the season (but I was thinking more along the lines of a few potted plants and repainting the patio furniture).
Didn't I say I was making this lengthy story shorter? I need to work on that.
Needless to say, the door was painted, ready for install and looking rather like perfection, if I do say so myself. The knight in shining armor came with tools in hand to replace the door while I was not home. But, I fortunately (or not) came home just as the install process was being finished to see the red side of the door not facing the exterior in order to better enhance my patio experience, but staring straight at me in my living room. ARRRGGG!!!
The door was removed and set carefully back in the garage for yet another round of painting and will then go through another install process. Hopefully, this time without incident.
But, I promise to keep you posted and hopefully pics coming.
The back door project is becoming a regular time bugler in my life.
Sad thing is, that I did not intentionally decide one day that "I would really enjoy changing that patio door because...
...it just isn't the right style for me
or
...i'd really like my back patio door to be another color
or
...i'm feeling uber industrious with tons of my time on my hands, so I think I am going to dive into a home improvement project of my choice."
No. Not anything even close.
I have this really great neighbor that lives around the corner from me. He loves me. Really. He. loves. me. One of those guys that would do just about anything for me. He is sort of like having a honey around to do the honey do's, except he my honey.
The deal is that my sweet, dear friend knew that I had been having some problems with water seeping in around the back door during torrential downpours, like hurricane Ike or the recent flood days we had here in West Houston just wanted to do something nice. Something helpful to remedy the situation. Something as simple as replace the weather stripping on the back door.
So, when he showed up unannounced with tools in hand one day and waltzed right to the back door and started working with hardly a word spoken I thought nothing of it. It took him no time at all to remove the door from the hinges and strip off the old weather stripping, when he turned and somewhat solemnly announced that the door was rotted and he would not be able to replace the weather stripping.
You know what that means, right? My ten dollar weather stripping replacement job (that I did not even initiate- keep that in mind) was turning into a door replacement project that I soon found out would run upwards of $700.00 with installation.
Can you say YIKES!?!?
To make this rather lengthy story a little shorter, I'll just tell you that after picking myself up off the floor when I received that extraordinary quote, I humbly picked up the phone and called my real knight in shining armor and household fix it all friend and kindly offered him multiple home cooked meals to help with the door installation process. Guess what? He accepted and I just knew it would be a breeze from here on out.
But I sit here now, writing this post to tell you that I have never endured so much agony in all my life! This door situation has left me thinking that it may have been easier to put a for sale sign in the front yard and just pack up and move to a new home with a nice, tight fitting, weather stripped back door.
The tedious problems that I am having at this point though have nothing to do with said, knight in shining armor who is actually being ever so patient with me, but with my own stupidity. From the shopping process to the transportation of the door home, I have had multiple challenges.
But, the icing on the cake was my painting mishap. I picked out this really great red color to enjoy on the exterior when I am sitting on the patio enjoying a nice cold beer or glass of wine. Hoping that it will enhance the whole patio experience that was actually my original home improvement project for the season (but I was thinking more along the lines of a few potted plants and repainting the patio furniture).
Didn't I say I was making this lengthy story shorter? I need to work on that.
Needless to say, the door was painted, ready for install and looking rather like perfection, if I do say so myself. The knight in shining armor came with tools in hand to replace the door while I was not home. But, I fortunately (or not) came home just as the install process was being finished to see the red side of the door not facing the exterior in order to better enhance my patio experience, but staring straight at me in my living room. ARRRGGG!!!
The door was removed and set carefully back in the garage for yet another round of painting and will then go through another install process. Hopefully, this time without incident.
But, I promise to keep you posted and hopefully pics coming.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Are we... for sure?
I've noticed recently an increasing use of the phrase "for sure." What is going on here? It was actually several years ago when I traveled to Canada where I found my cousin was inserting the phrase into every other sentence.
Uses like confirming your intent to do something..."I am going to the store, for sure" or when one wants to respond to an inquiry....Question:"Will you be planting the daisy's in the garden this weekend?" Answer: " For sure."
I completely disregarded this unusual language phenomenon to being a Canadian thing, because of course, all weird things done and said in Canada are just Canadian things, right?
When I returned to Texas, I more than welcome the normal use of the words 'fo shizzle' and 'right???' Ahhh, the use of our own distorted urban dialect was more comforting that I ever could have imagined possible. What a relief, right?!
But this 'for sure' phrase has slowly trickled down to some of the most Southern regions of the USA. For whatever reason, hearing that phrase brings me directly into 1981, when Valley Girl talk brought to the All-American lingo terms like 'Totally,' 'Radical.' and 'like tubular.' Wasn't there a 'For Sure' in there somewhere?
I just feel as if the entire phrase would be so much more well received if it was preceded by the word "like"and coming from the mouth of someone dressed in a torn purple sweatshirt with gray leggings and hot pink, fishnet, fingerless gloves and a side pony tail with teased up bangs.
Let the record show that I am not a fan of this phrase today.
Oh dear cousin in the northern regions, please, please tell me that the 'for sure' phrase and fill me in on the latest and greatest fad in urban language!
Uses like confirming your intent to do something..."I am going to the store, for sure" or when one wants to respond to an inquiry....Question:"Will you be planting the daisy's in the garden this weekend?" Answer: " For sure."
I completely disregarded this unusual language phenomenon to being a Canadian thing, because of course, all weird things done and said in Canada are just Canadian things, right?
When I returned to Texas, I more than welcome the normal use of the words 'fo shizzle' and 'right???' Ahhh, the use of our own distorted urban dialect was more comforting that I ever could have imagined possible. What a relief, right?!
But this 'for sure' phrase has slowly trickled down to some of the most Southern regions of the USA. For whatever reason, hearing that phrase brings me directly into 1981, when Valley Girl talk brought to the All-American lingo terms like 'Totally,' 'Radical.' and 'like tubular.' Wasn't there a 'For Sure' in there somewhere?
I just feel as if the entire phrase would be so much more well received if it was preceded by the word "like"and coming from the mouth of someone dressed in a torn purple sweatshirt with gray leggings and hot pink, fishnet, fingerless gloves and a side pony tail with teased up bangs.
Let the record show that I am not a fan of this phrase today.
Oh dear cousin in the northern regions, please, please tell me that the 'for sure' phrase and fill me in on the latest and greatest fad in urban language!
Friday, May 8, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
16 minutes to a lifetime of SMILING!
This will suck you in if you take the time to watch it! Do it. I promise you will. love. it.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Jaw Dropping Experience
Catch up time.
You may be familiar with the 5 year college plan, well I have been living out a 5 year dental plan. Unfortunately I took the A++ dental reports from my childhood for granted and for several completely irresponsible years in those late teens and early twenties did not take the time to brush the old teethies before passing out from one or two too many drinks from the night before. Needless to say, I am paying the price. Both physically and financially.
So, now that you have a run down on the dental history of Amy and are probably completely disgusted, I have to tell you that I spent two and half hours of agony in the dentist chair this last week. To say I hate dental work is a complete understatement. UNDERSTATEMENT I tell you!
My blood pressure goes up, my hands and feet swell up, my stomach turns and I imagine the worst possible scenarios that push me right into a fearful, tearful fit. No lie here, folks. Just ask the doc. He gets freaked out every time the tears flow.
But this trip was different. I went in expecting to just do a simple fix on a front tooth that was chipped from a fight I had with a peanut butter granola bar the week before. A minor sanding and refinishing job. Right?
Wrong! The dentist had other plans that he failed to inform me of until he had the drill in my mouth and was working his way to the furthest regions of my mouth. This by far, was the worst piece of my 5 year plan to correct the youthful negligence. Needless to say I learned the following things during the complete two and half hours of the jaw dropping experience:
1. My dentist, Dr. Mark Gray is the most patient and gentlest man in the world. No matter how much I HATE dental work, he is still the best!
2. No dentist should be allowed to turn a drill on until they have offered you an in chair massage, neck pillow, head phones (even though they are circa 1982, it's better than nothing for those of us with ipods not readily available) and drugs! Gas, pills, multitudes of the injectionable numbing stuff- no matter the form it is a must!
3. Public radio is the bomb! There is nothing more relaxing that a little classical concerto to drowned out the sound of your tooth being ground away.
4. It stinks when the dentist is working in your mouth so long that he had to make stops to check in on his regular well check patients. I think there could have possibly been a quick lunch break in there.
5. In fact, I'm pretty sure there was a smoke break in there for his assistant who's rubber coated, smoke smelling hands suctioned my mouth during the entire process. Gag!
6. Getting more intrusive dental work than expected is a perfect excuse to take the rest of the day off and catch up on a little TV time in a quiet house.
Needless to say, the completion phase of my dental plan is nearing. There is light at the end of the tunnel and 2009 will be that year. As pleasant as an experience as Dr. Gray and his staff attempt to make the process, I fear there is some long lost memory of a child hood experience that has traumatized me to the point of never having what some would call a "pleasant" dental work experience.
You may be familiar with the 5 year college plan, well I have been living out a 5 year dental plan. Unfortunately I took the A++ dental reports from my childhood for granted and for several completely irresponsible years in those late teens and early twenties did not take the time to brush the old teethies before passing out from one or two too many drinks from the night before. Needless to say, I am paying the price. Both physically and financially.
So, now that you have a run down on the dental history of Amy and are probably completely disgusted, I have to tell you that I spent two and half hours of agony in the dentist chair this last week. To say I hate dental work is a complete understatement. UNDERSTATEMENT I tell you!
My blood pressure goes up, my hands and feet swell up, my stomach turns and I imagine the worst possible scenarios that push me right into a fearful, tearful fit. No lie here, folks. Just ask the doc. He gets freaked out every time the tears flow.
But this trip was different. I went in expecting to just do a simple fix on a front tooth that was chipped from a fight I had with a peanut butter granola bar the week before. A minor sanding and refinishing job. Right?
Wrong! The dentist had other plans that he failed to inform me of until he had the drill in my mouth and was working his way to the furthest regions of my mouth. This by far, was the worst piece of my 5 year plan to correct the youthful negligence. Needless to say I learned the following things during the complete two and half hours of the jaw dropping experience:
1. My dentist, Dr. Mark Gray is the most patient and gentlest man in the world. No matter how much I HATE dental work, he is still the best!
2. No dentist should be allowed to turn a drill on until they have offered you an in chair massage, neck pillow, head phones (even though they are circa 1982, it's better than nothing for those of us with ipods not readily available) and drugs! Gas, pills, multitudes of the injectionable numbing stuff- no matter the form it is a must!
3. Public radio is the bomb! There is nothing more relaxing that a little classical concerto to drowned out the sound of your tooth being ground away.
4. It stinks when the dentist is working in your mouth so long that he had to make stops to check in on his regular well check patients. I think there could have possibly been a quick lunch break in there.
5. In fact, I'm pretty sure there was a smoke break in there for his assistant who's rubber coated, smoke smelling hands suctioned my mouth during the entire process. Gag!
6. Getting more intrusive dental work than expected is a perfect excuse to take the rest of the day off and catch up on a little TV time in a quiet house.
Needless to say, the completion phase of my dental plan is nearing. There is light at the end of the tunnel and 2009 will be that year. As pleasant as an experience as Dr. Gray and his staff attempt to make the process, I fear there is some long lost memory of a child hood experience that has traumatized me to the point of never having what some would call a "pleasant" dental work experience.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
The stuff that dreams are made of...
For you Jori and anyone else that delights in or dreams about choreographed dance routines!
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