3. Vortex of Awkwarness (you have GOT to be kidding me)

Ok, I am MAD. I made SURE to take the time yesterday to do my post, even though it was a Sunday funday and I didn't have to work, and my computer wasn't turning on. I did the whole thing on my iPhone, it posted, and then I sign on to do my due diligence today, and WHERE is it? I have no idea what happened, but was able to find it on my phone, copy and paste, and voila! A day late, but posted on time somewhere in the lost wide web.

Just writing this is awkward, as I am doing this post from McMac and writing anything longer than a text on a touch screen is a challenge. I am a dedicated artist, what can I say?

When I was in college, I went to a party that was, in and of itself, awkward. It was a cocktail party in a tiny USC apartment with lots of people I kind of knew but not past very superficial small talk. Not being a fan of those kind of interactions or of dressing up for a cramped space college party with plastic cups, I can't remember what compelled me to go. Maybe it was to prove that I was doing great after being dumped (my first crushing heartbreak). After unsuccessfully remaining close friends and consigning myself to a constant state of sighing despondence, I finally decided we probably shouldn't be hanging out all the time. It is AMAzing to me how little sense I had at 21. Oh well. You can imagine my delight when he turned up at the same party. HAD to get out of there. I gathered my BFFs and we hauled butt (as they say in the good 'ol South). As we walked through the courtyard to the street, I exclaimed with delight how glad I was to free of the 'vortex of awkwardness' when springing from out of nowhere comes Mr. Heartbreak himself and in a boyishly impish and chanting voice he says, 'Vortex of awkwardness, eh?'

It. Was. Hilarious.

Apparently funny enough to be told to friends of friends in the UK, which is how it made this topic list supplied by eLF. Thanks eLF!

Sent from my iPhone






ps-love Paper Heart.
pps-don't blame McMac.

2. My Library

My mom and grandma have become really into their Kindles. I think the idea is really cool, and if I traveled a lot I would definitely want one. For Christmas one of my dreams came true, and one of the first things I did was get a free app of Jane Eyre, which I read in book form and then would take a chapter or two on McMac (yes, that's my iPhone's name) when I was waiting at the car wash, etc. It was really small type, but oh so fun!

But honestly, nothing compares to holding a book, turning the pages, the smell of the paper. Ahhhhhh! But you know what is even better? Reading an old favorite with a glass of champagne with freshly squeezed orange juice and a decadent chocolate cupcake...wearing pink slippers!







Some day, I hope I have a library like the one in Beauty and the Beast, with curly staircases up to the top level, a huge fireplace, leather chairs, an amazing globe and lots of atlases!

Here is a list, in no particular order, of some books that have meant a lot to me:

Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs
Emily San
Jane Eyre
The Outlander Series
Christy
Gone with the Wind
Hard Times
Crime and Punishment
Babysitters club
Nancy Drew
Boxcar Children
A Swiftly Tilting Planet and the other 3 Madeline L'Engle books
Harry Potter
The 11th Hour
House of Leaves (the SCARIEST book I've ever read)
The Count of Monte Cristo
CS Lewis--Narnia, Mere Christianity, The Great Divorce, Space Triology
The Crucible
The Importance of Being Ernest
Lord of the Rings

1. Triskaidekaphobia

Fail.

OR clever blogging illusion? Yesterday was the first day in my epic 2010 Blogathon with eLF (check out her status at ndawonye.wordpress.com). You may have noticed that my post did not exist. The irony is that I THOUGHT about it all day. I thought about it as I cleaned my whole apartment, as I did four loads of laundry, as I cleaned my own carpets with an awesome vacuum/carpet cleaner thingy, and planned/executed an successful mini-dinner party. I blame the party, which meant I spent so much time cleaning, cooking, and making these:



That I failed to actually DO the post. But if you think about it, it's kind of perfect--because of people's fear of the number 13 (for all of you who were avoiding looking up the definition of said blog post title) hotels often emit the 13th floor, etc. SO my post was kind of clever. And delayed. And lame excuses...

So people are freaked out by the number 13. You know who isn't scared?



I'm not either. I think it is sad, but predictable, that people are afraid of a number. Superstitions have always baffled me, mostly because of this, and also because I think there are so many ACTUAL things one might be scared of instead of worrying about if a black cat walks by a ladder that leads to a broken mirror on Friday the 13th when there is a full moon and you have a dream about a narwhal swimming in a river of tears...

Not being too familiar with the fear of 13, and obviously more than a little confused about other traditional superstitions, you might think I would dedicate this blog, and my time, to researching the roots of this fear, the historical implications, blah blah blah. But I'm not going to. INSTEAD, I'm going to tell you about another, similar, yet totally different fear that I think people should be talking about:

I give you, Ontriskaidekakainconcinnusphobia. WHOA. Let's break it down.
On-Greek for "being"
Tri-Greek for "3"
Kai-Greek for "and"
Deka-Greek for "10"
Kai-again for "and"
Inconcinnus-Latin for "awkward"

So basically: Being 13 and Awkward Phobia. Seriously.



I am well past 13, and I still shudder to remember. The growing out bangs awkwardness. The retainers. The pre-contacts. The bratty girls and stupid boys. Can't drive, no longer a cute little kid, middle school to high school transition, weird new hormones. 14 couldn't come too soon!

This fear is real ya'll, a lot more real than a number coming to kill you in the night. I feel for you, kids of 1997, and I promise you it can only go up from here.

3. Vortex of Awkwardness

Just writing this is awkward, as I am doing this post from McMac and writing anything longer than a text on a touch screen is a challenge. I am a dedicated artist, what can I say?

When I was in college, I went to a party that was, in and of itself, awkward. It was a cocktail party in a tiny USC apartment with lots of people I kind of knew but not past very superficial small talk. Not being a fan of those kind of interactions or of dressing up for a cramped space college party with plastic cups, I can't remember what compelled me to go. Maybe it was to prove that I was doing great after being dumped (my first crushing heartbreak). After unsuccessfully remaining close friends and consigning myself to a constant state of sighing despondence, I finally decided we probably shouldn't be hanging out all the time. It is AMAzing to me how little sense I had at 21. Oh well. You can imagine my delight when he turned up at the same party. HAD to get out of there. I gathered my BFFs and we hauled butt (as they say in the good 'ol South). As we walked through the courtyard to the street, I exclaimed with delight how glad I was to free of the 'vortex of awkwardness' when springing from out of nowhere comes Mr. Heartbreak himself and in a boyishly impish and chanting voice he says, 'Vortex of awkwardness, eh?'

It. Was. Hilarious.

Apparently funny enough to be told to friends of friends in the UK, which is how it made this topic list supplied by eLF. Thanks eLF!

Blogathon 2010

Last week I was at dinner with my fun friend eLF and we were talking about our respective blogs when she challenged me to a blogathon. The Rules: 10 topics, chosen by the other, 10 days. I don't THINK it's a competition with a clear winner, however I guess you can be the judge. I will post a link to her blog tomorrow, day 1 of the challenge. Let me warn you--we are both silly, quirky, and whimsical, so I wouldn't count on any sort of rhyme or reason or cohesion of topics. I'll do what I can. All in all I hope you enjoy, and I hope we all learn something about our world and ourselves. BAhahahahahah I totally didn't mean that last sentence, I just wanted to write something dramatic. Save it Wayman, you've got 10 long days ahead.

I'll leave you with this: Sometimes you've just got to act like there's a giraffe on your head. Enjoy.

Following your heart

Confession:

I love watching the Bachelor. I know, I think I've already confessed this on here...but you can never be too "ashamed" of admitting something like that. I love the cheesy lines, the over-dramatization, the all-consuming madness that they create in the contestants by creating a vacuum dating world filled with glamour, skimpy bathing suits, and a LOT of alcohol. Yeah, I'm so proud.

One thing that drives me CRAZY is when people say "I just need to follow my heart", which gets said a lot on that show. It sounds so warm and fuzzy on the surface, until you realize that YOUR HEART IS A SELFISH LIAR. OK, I'm not pointing fingers. MY heart is selfish. My heart is a liar. My heart wants immediate gratification, constant giddy heights, whatever works for ME right now. Remind you of anyone?



And look what happened to her? OK, maybe she was following her stomach, but that's a pretty great analogy to following your heart. I don't know about you, but if I followed my stomach without filtering it's demands through my head, I would be eating pizza, bread, and popcorn for every meal, inevitably ending up as round as greedy blueberry girl. My point is, that although the heart can sometimes lead us in a great direction, and obviously should be factored into our lives, let's not be stupid and follow it's whims blindly. Let's not be hasty hobbits. Let's be as wise as serpents and as innocent as doves, because we are amongst wolves my friends, and sometimes our heart can be a sly and devastating as a wolf! (Matthew 10:16)

A Dallas Christmas

Suffice it to say we had a bountiful, joyful and blessed Christmas. AND we got a white Christmas Eve and Christmas Day! By far the best part was when my precious nearly 3 year old niece performed/told us the Christmas story with the aid of our family's nativity set. Her father had taught her well, she even knew how to correctly pronounce frankincense! Plus, in the fashion of a child used to being taught new words by repetition, she told each bit like this:

Zoey: Then Mary and Joffuff (her pronunciation!) went to the inn. Say with me, Mary and Joffuff.
The entire family: "Mary and Joffuff"

Not only was it hilarious to hear us all repeating all the words with her, but it moved me beyond words to see her so excited and proud to tell us the story of Jesus' birth. I am certain that it moved God's heart as well!