Never Forgotten.

A sophomore at Texas A&M on November 18, 1999, time stood still when I got the call - Bonfire fell.   'Bonfire fell?  What do you mean bonfire fell?  I just saw it 6 hours ago leaving campus and it burns in a week!  How will they ever rebuild it in time!'  I couldn't wrap reason around the words that followed - it didn't just fall, it took down Ags with it and people are dead.   As I tried to make sense of those words through a sleepy fog, an eerie wave of realization sunk in as I remembered Sid's foreshadowing words as we'd passed, "Bonfire is leaning, that can't be good."  Less than 2 hours later, our Aggie world changed forever. All we could do in those horrific next few hours was drop our knees to the earth around the sacred site and pray. 

Some of my greatest memories in life have that ol' stack as the backdrop and my remaining Aggie years were never as full without Bonfire.  Standing with over 100,000 Aggies in a circle around that stack of logs, lifting spirited voices into the wind, united in our love of Texas A&M University - you can't put those moments into words. As we say, "From the outside looking in you can't understand it.  From the inside looking out, you can't explain it."   I've always grieved for the future Ags who would never know what they were missing because without a doubt, Texas A&M University changed forever that day. 

We will never forget.

Some may boast of prowess bold
Of the school they think so grand
But there's a spirit can ne'er be told
It's the Spirit of Aggieland.

Gig 'Em, Ags!

Extra! Extra! Read All About It!

I come from a long line of avid readers, dating back to my great great great grandmother, a beautiful Cherokee woman who started the first library in her tribe, which united all the tribes in the land and inspired the very first book club, The Cherokee Reading Circle.  Her photo still hangs on the wall of that old library today. Oh alright, I'm pulling your leg.  Well, except for the Cherokee great great great grandmother.  That part is very true.  And maybe she really did love to read, who can know?

I have been obsessed with books since childhood.  When I was toddler, Randy kept a library of books on a shelf in his room, imprinted with his numbering system on the inside cover so he could keep track of the missing books I checked out.   When I started grade school, my favorite subject was reading and next to recess, library time was most sacred.  I loved the smells, the rows and rows of multicolored book-spines,  the crinkly sound of protective plastic book covers, the sweet librarians who somehow always knew what I would love best and the date stamp on the inside card that promised possession for 2 weeks.  Before Barnes and Noble and Borders, there was Waldenbooks and B. Dalton, and as I grew older, trips to the mall were much anticipated, not for the clothes or the toys, but for the precious time I spent strolling the aisles at the bookstore (oh sure, boys and shopping would soon change my definition of 'mall rat').

Sweet Pickles and Dr. Seuss to Shel Silverstein, The Stupids and Berenstain Bears; Judy Blume to the Babysitters Club and Sweet Valley High;  Christopher Pike and R.L. Stein to Dean Koontz, John Saul and Stephen King. I never did discover classic literature all those years ago, but I do remember my Mom putting Anne of Green Gables on my pillow and telling me it was time to graduate from the Babysitters Club.  I never read Anne of Green Gables but I do owe my parents for infusing a love of reading right into my bloodstream.  I still remember the peace of mind I cherished at night, as I read a scary book before bed,  knowing that the light spilling underneath their door would illuminate the hallway until at least 10 or 11pm, when they would finally place their books on the respective nightstands and turn out the lamps. 

A few days ago I remembered that my Mom had packed up my "old books" and sent me home with the box, which became part of the 18 million random boxes on shelves in our garage.  Curious to discover what she meant by "old books" we tore into the treasure chest and discovered these:

I'm not sure what happened to my junior high and high school collections, but like the little girl I used to be, I giggled and grinned as I reread some of my old favorites this weekend.  The origin of my love for mystery tales was uncovered, as I flipped through books of ghost stories and tales of brave detectives, pages yellow with age but alive with mystery. I chuckled at my handwriting on several books, one in particular where I'd practiced spelling 'decisions' on the back of a poor book, oh so Leigh-like. 

What books did you love to read when you were a kid?  If you're anywhere close to my age, I bet a million dollars you loved Babysitters Club, too!

Mom Makes her Blogging Debut

Mom posted these photos on her blog yesterday and I nearly peed myself.  My brother and I had some BAD hair, which she now blames on Mom Induced Bad Hair Syndrome.  Don't be fooled - it's not a real syndrome, she invented it to liberate herself from the shame and blame.  Randy got the worst of it, which is surely because by the time I was old enough for haircuts, she'd heard his cries for help (from the bad hair AND a nipped ear, if I'm not mistaken) and sought treatment in the arms of a hair salon.  She swears she never put a bowl on his head and trimmed around it, but that is bowl hair if I ever saw it.  In fact, I think his hair inspired the Jack in the Box commercial seen here:

 

I'm channeling Farrah Fawcett in the next photo and I look fabulous, don't you think? 

Photos not included in this blog are the Bang Fiasco of 1993, self induced (think one inch bangs spurting from my head) and the Great Chop of 1988 (Leigh+short hair = somebody please lock me in the basement for 6 months until this blows over). 

Ahhhh.  Bad hair, good times.

Hump Day List

A list of utmost randomness:

1. There are some things in life you count on to be true: it will always rain when Sid is out of town; the dogs will always come in muddy after I've mopped the floors;  my cell phone will always ring when I'm juggling a purse, keys, book and latte; and especially relevant today, my mom will always be out of town when I really want to talk to her (no offense Mom - it's not your fault!). 

2. After some witty banter with an enthusiastic Starbucks barista, I step aside and wait patiently for my tall 3 Equal latte, catching a smile from a seated gentleman who appears to be chuffed by this humorous exchange.  "That's nice," I think. "Barista and I WERE a good comedy team. We could go on tour, even." Then I notice the blue tooth in the seated man's ear as he looks down at his laptop, nodding uselessly as if the caller can even see him.  If a comedy duo makes a funny and no one hears, is it still funny?  No, I guess not. 

3. I think little Dixie is losing sight in one eye, but the moment I start to pine over her elderly age, she does something amazing, like climb the stairs with the speed of an Olympian, or follow, with her poor little eyes,  a tiny house fly as he zooms around the living room. Yesterday Sid says, "I think we need to speak more clearly and always with a comforting tone since it appears she's relying more on her sense of smell and hearing."  So what does Sid do not even an hour later?  He hollers, "Dixxxiiiiiie!" and makes exaggerated monster movements under the fluorescent light at the top of the stairs, which throws murderous shadows all over the walls. It's a little game he likes to play with her, but clearly it's a violation of his new rule. And also just plain dumb.  Poor Dixie.

4. Are you guys watching Community on NBC Thursday nights?  It is Bril. Liant.  So much so that the very word has to be divided in half so it is properly pronounced.  The humor, much like my very favorite show 30 Rock, is multidimensional and clever and subtle but hilariously obvious at the same time.  And let's be honest with one another, Joel Mchale is delicious!  My favorite laugh out loud moment from last Thursday: 

Brita: Those faucets are beautiful.  You know what they would go great with? A HOME! Which you no longer have! You need to move on with your life!

Jeff:  Yeah, move on with my life?  Shmove shmon shmith shmy shmife!

Okay, okay.  One more!

Abed:  Lucky Charms?

Jeff: How are you so satisfied all the time, Abed?  Don't you ever want anything more out life than just cereal?

Abed: Sometimes I like to pour hot chocolate mix into cold milk and drink it with hot cocoa, I call it special drink

Jeff: And some day you will know it by its true name, diabetes

Who's laughing?  I am!  Here's a clip if you want it, which has both quotes in it.  Awesomeness with a whipped cream and 14  cherries on top.

5.  My brain is t'ard.  (translation:  tired with a Southern spin)  I love my new job.  Love, love, love.  I'm treating it much like I did my college coursework:  prepare, prepare, prepare, study, study, study, always look in the mirror before walking through the office doors to check for ink stains.  Old story alert!  I stayed up all night studying for my history final freshman year - totally aced it, by the way - and when I made it back to the dorm after the essay final, Sid and Jesse who were visiting, and Kena, my roommate, bursted into fits of belly laughter and commanded me to look in a mirror.  I had more ink stains on my face than freckles and that's saying something. My history final was on the other side of campus, meaning I walked the entire campus with belly-laughter-inducing ink stains all over my face.    Lesson learned? Always be prepared: mentally and facially. My brain is thankful for the new challenges, but needs to catch up on her zzzzz's. 

6.  Glee tonight!  'nuf said!

Woke up this morning (da na na na na)

My alarm buzzed at 6:30am and naturally I hit snooze because I am a snooze-button-pusher, so much so that I wonder why I bother to set the alarm at all.  Sometimes I'll hit snooze 7 or 8 times, in fact, but not on really important days like today.  Today I woke up with that jittery dread you feel before an exciting event - wedding, job interview, vacations. Throw a heap of excitement and a handful of terror into a bowl, mix it up, throw it in a 325 degree oven for 30 minutes and voila - that was me this morning at 6:39 when my alarm buzzed for the second time.

I had three hours to prepare for my first day as the Marketing/PR intern for a real deal book publisher, and first things first, I needed to stop saying things like "real deal book publisher" or I might as well walk into the office and shyly stammer, "Hi, I'm Leigh!  I've got butterflies in my tummy and I'm super duper happy to be here at this big ol' office building.  Grandma says I've made it big.  Will someone warm me up a bottle of milk?"  So, after vowing to be as calm and cool and mature as possible given the circumstances, I faced the day:

6:39 - tumble out of bed like a drunk and mutter good mornings to Sid and the dogs

6:42 - take a shower

6:52 - throw on some lounging-around clothes

6:58 - enjoy coffee and conversation with Sid

7:45 - read

8:45 - jump out of chair as though attached to a rocket and make exaggerated motions and mutterings about reading too long when I should be getting dressed

8:47 - blow dry hair, roll hair, file/paint fingernails and apply makeup

9:19 - grab two shirts from closet to iron since I can't make up mind which to wear

9:21 - realize that very expensive cardigan has a hole near the neck

9:23 - discover a water stain on shirt #1 and a rip in shirt #2

9:24 - mentally curse myself for not taking better care of my clothes

9:25 - iron pants

9:27 - polish boots

9:30 - get dressed

9:35 - master the obstacle course of my hallway, staircase, and living room, avoiding dogs and dog hair at all cost.

9:45 - avoid mud and dirt climbing into Jeep

9:47 - hit the road, Jack.

10:30 - officially start my new job
1:30 - hit the road for my other job

Are you curious about what happened between 10:30-1:30?  No?  Okay, nevermind then.   I'll just say it was a fabulous start to what I feel, deep down in my tummy, will be a life-changing experience.  It was baptism by fire, as promised in the interviews, and I kinda like it that way!

I got an Award, I got an Award!

It's Friday, I had a delicious brunch with a friend, a latte from Starbucks, a bath with a good book, a long phone chat with Mom, kisses from little Dixie, NO WORK, had a box full of new clothes from Ann Taylor Loft waiting on my doorstep when I returned home, and [drumroll] I got an AWARD from one of my favorite blogger friends who while I've never met her in person, I'm convinced we could be BFFs in real life.  So, Thanks Melissa for nominating me! 

 

Here are the rules:

1. Thank the person who nominated you for this award.  (Check!)

2. Copy the logo & place it on your blog. (Check!)

3. Link to the person who nominated you for this award  (Check!)

4. Name 7 things about yourself that people may not know. (We'll get to that.)

5. Nominate 7 Kreativ Bloggers:

        1.  Cindy

        2.  Mom (cats out of the bag, Mom!  Start bloggin'!)

        3.  Stacey

        4.  Amanda

        5.  Anna

        6.  April

        7.  Allison

6. Post links to the 7 blogs you nominated. (Check!)

7. Leave a comment on each of the blogs, letting them know they've been nominated. (Really?  Is that necessary?  Sounds like a lot of work, so...maybe.)

And now the highly unanticipated 7 things you don't know about me. 

1.  I hate when people misspell words to be cutesy.  For instance, Kreativ Blogger.  Huh?  Creative starts with 'c' and ends in  'e'.  It isn't cute to use a 'k' and drop the 'e,' it's just bad spelling.  Like the little store near our town square - Bobcat Kuntry.   Kuntry?  Really?  Why not erect a giant billboard on the highway telling passerbyers what a bunch of hicks and morons we are?

2.  I start a new job on Monday!  It's a part-time internship with a book publisher, can you even believe it?  I  spent several months feeling down in the dumps about my lack of career, the reality that I'm a creative bird who keeps locking herself into a tiny office-cage, and the gloomy psychological diagnosis hiding under the covers in my mind - FEAR.  I decided one day that enough was enough, attached a ridiculously unimpressive resume to a heartfelt letter and hit Send.   A week later the biggest surprise of my entire life was delivered over the phone wires - a call from the publisher/CEO herself!   And she actually LIKED my letter and my writing!  WHAT?!?!  After a couple of interviews and phone calls, I'm officially the marketing/PR intern for a real deal book publisher!  I will be doing a whole great big bunch of fun stuff and I am T-H-R-I-L-L-E-D!  (And very much looking forward to the celebratory dinner with the hubster Monday night!)  I'm also really looking forward to being part of an office family again.  Isolation in the workplace is the pits!

3.  4 out of 5 of Ann Taylor Loft items I received today fit.  I used to be an "Ann" pant style and now I'm a "Julie," apparently.  Ann - "a classic fit, sits slightly below the waist."  Julie  - "a curvy fit, sits slightly below the waist, flatters the hip and thigh."  Fantastic. Because every girl dreams of having thighs and hips that need "flattering."  The pants are fabulous, though, so cheers! 

4.  I had a dream last night that I was on a love trip to Fredericksburg with.....Clint Eastwood.  We were strolling the streets in the rain, hand in hand, and stopped to listen to David Allan Coe performing "You Never Even Call Me By My Name" in the street, where a very overweight version of Pat Green was spotted in the bleachers, rockin' to the beat.  I'm pretty sure this means I need therapy.

5. I've gained 8 pounds of the 35ish that I lost last year, and while I've vowed to shake it off and get back up on that weight-loss wagon, I'm terrified about the approaching holidays and Manhattan vacation.  Deep down, I know the 8 pounds is a just a little bump in the road and since I still fit into my clothes, I refuse to break down and sob like a chubby baby, but the worst part is the bloat around my middle and in my face that is more a product of poor eating than the 8 pounds.  THAT bums me out.

6.  A few days ago, I picked the nail polish off my toenails instead of using nail polish remover like a normal person.  I haven't had a pedicure in 6 months.  Guess how pretty my hobbit feet are right now? 

7.  Sid's list contribution:  I have crazy nicknames for my pups that I sing to them daily.  For instance, when I come home from work, I throw open the door and greet Bear and Dixie, who naturally run to greet me, with, "Hi silly willy pilly tilly milly dilly chillys!  How is my Bear-bear-chair-bear and my Dixie Swixie Trixie?"    They totally eat it up.  That is one of a million nickname sing-song scenarios. 

Makenzie Tales

Sid and I, realizing through a sleepy fog that we are wearing identical Aggie t-shirts walk to the second floor banister and greet the family below.  Nana laughs, Ken Ken doesn't.  I head for the breakfast table and before I can lean over to hug my Ken Ken, Nana says, "Leigh Leigh, can you believe that Daddy ate her leftover special donut?"

Sidenote:  Sid and I took Makenzie to Starbucks the morning before and she thought it was such a treat, we had a grand ol' time singing loudly with the windows down, giggling at random.  She led us to Shipley's Donuts (the girl knows her way around town) and when we get to the drive-thru window she says, "Daddy always gets me a twisty thing, about this long, with chocolate and sprinkles."  We repeat this to the Shipley's girl, who has never heard of such a thing, but she disappears momentarily and returns with exactly what Ken Ken described - she made it special just for her.  (When we got home, Cindy laughed and said, "She totally made that up.  She's never had a donut like that."  Randy confirmed later that evening when he got back from work that he's never ordered said donut.)

Leigh:  Oh, Ken Ken!  I'm so sorry!  I can't believe he ate your special donut without asking you first!

Makenzie: [sad little tears streaming down her cheeks]  He never eats Ryan's food!  He only steals MY food!

Leigh:  Well, baby, Ryan's food is nasty, baby food.  You've got the tastiest food in the whole house.

Makenzie:  [Silence]

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When we first arrive in Spring, we head to Makenzie's school to have lunch with her.  We see her class lining up and Nana, Sid and I rush over near the line to give her big hugs and kisses.  She grins and starts to run, only she's running away from us and holding up her finger in a "just one sec" kind of gesture, grabs her lunch card and runs to the cafeteria line.  We stand there like dissed idiots because it's Pizza Day, afterall, and well, the girl has got her priorities.  The whole cafeteria laughed and pointed at us, standing there like rejects.  No, they didn't, but they wanted to.

------------

Leigh:  Ken Ken, what do you want to be when you grow up? (I ask her this every time I see her, because I love how the answers change.)

Makenzie:  Welllll, (like the answer is just SO obvious) I'm going to take care of animals during the summer and teach kids the rest of the time.

That said, we spent many hours this weekend playing school, with Makenzie as our teacher.  She is the most precious blend of bossy and tenderhearted.  She handed out clipboards and papers and passed around some crayons and commanded us to draw a picture of a garden, and she would grade our papers and select a winner. She declared Aunt Leigh Leigh the winner, and Nana pretended to have her feelings hurt, so without skipping a beat....

Makenzie:  So, Leigh Leigh won first place, BUT, the person with the lowest points is also a winner!
-------------------

Sunday morning before we left, Makenzie and Siddy could be found on the sofa, giggling at some private joke.  A few minutes later, my cell phone dings with a text message.  Makenzie hijacked Nana's phone and the following text conversation takes place:
Makenzie:  Leigh I hope you have a happy halloween.
Leigh:  Makenzie, I had a GREAT Halloween!  I loved trick or treating with you!
Makenzie:  I had a grat halloween.
Leigh:  I'll miss you sooooooooooooooo much.
Makenzie: We miss u 2.  Leigh leigh ur so crazy!
Leigh:  Send me a photo of your fish latwer, okay?
[Sid and Makenzie burst into giggles at my misspelling of the word later.]
Makenzie: Leigh i hope you have a happy year.
Leigh:  You too, love bug!

It should be noted that Makenzie knows how to unlock the Blackberry, find a name on the address book, and then compose a text, without any adult help.  She also learned to use my big, complicated camera all by herself and took some really great shots!  She's 6.  I swear, their generation is going to build a city on the moon or something.
---------------

I adore my husband and the kiddos adore him too.  But I spend half my time giving him that raised eyebrow look when he says stuff like, "That's dumb, Ken Ken."  ("You can't say dumb, Sid.") or he sticks his tongue out at Ken Ken and makes tooting noises and then she copies him, and the SHE gets in trouble because her Mommy didn't know that Sid started the whole thing.  Sid is an instigator, for sure.  So we're driving in his rental car with Kenzie in the backseat and:

Sid: Hey, look at the little locked compartment in the seat next to you, Ken Ken.  It's a secret passage to the trunk!
Leigh: [in hushed tones] Sid!  You don't point out secret passageways to trunks to kids!
Sid:  Um, it's really hot and stuffy in there, though.  Not a place you'd want to be.  Ever.
Makenzie:  Yeah.
Sid:  And if someone ever tells you to get in the trunk, what do you say, Ken Ken?
Makenzie:  NO WAY JOSE!
Leigh:  [in more hushed tones] Sid!  I don't know if they've had the kidnap talk yet!  Abort!  Abort!
Sid:  So, what are you going to eat at Chick Fil A?

Cindy, my apologies!  Let the damage control commence!

----------------

I can't wait for Ryan to start talking up a storm!  Those two are going to be hilarious together!

Happy Halloween

November 2 is much too early for Christmas tree greetings, but I walked into my office building this morning and sure enough, a Christmas tree bid me a good morning, before I've even posted my Halloween photos.  But, that is a topic for another blog so don't get me started. 

By some small miracle, I made it to Houston by 12:30am Friday morning.  What should have been a 20 minute drive to the airport and a 45 minute flight turned into a 10 hour nightmare - 2 hours on the runway, 2 hours in the air only, to end up right back in Dallas with a 4 hour drive in my future.  Why I continue to fly American Airlines is beyond me, but again, that's another blog. 

By Friday at 11, we were in Spring with Cindy, Ryan, Mom, and Makenzie having lunch with our favorite 1st grader and we didn't slow down much between then and Sunday afternoon when with a teary start, I made my way back to Dallas, with Sid in a separate car. 

As usual, I had so many funny things to share that flew out of my brain the moment I sat down to write and like clockwork, the stories and dialogue will flood my mind the second I publish this blog.  So, how about I just post some pictures for now?

Many more photos over on the photo blog. Click Here!

Letters from Leigh

Dear Wind,

What are you trying to prove?  You're a powerful force of nature and rain can't hold a candle next to you (get it?  Because you'd just blow it out?)  You can knock down power lines and destroy hairdos and overturn 18-wheelers, and we're all very scared and impressed but frankly, we're really annoyed with very bad hair and delayed flights, so can you cut it out already? 

Love,

Leigh

-----------------------------------------

Dear Pro Comp tire maker,

The Pro Comp tires you charge $300 A PIECE for are the worst tires in the history of all tires in the entire universe and my steering wheel shakes and I look like a lunatic to passing cars and you should be ashamed for ripping me off.  May your road always be bumpy and the sun always in your eyes, buttface.

XOXO,

Leigh

------------------------------------------

Dear John Mayer,

"Say What You Need to Say" is a beautiful lyric and a haunting message, so, bravo!  But, um, I kinda got the point after 5 or 6 "Say what you need to says" and the additional 527 times you sing that phrase makes me want to stab something sharp into my eardrum to make the madness stop.

All the best (you need it, obviously),

Leigh

-------------------------------------------

Dear Fellow Dallas Tollway Driver,

I drive a Jeep that is underpowered and shaped like a box.  I am never EVER going to drive over 80 mph because the engine would explode and the top would fly off and hit your windshield and frankly, that would be a huge drag.  So, how about I continue to drive in the right lane minding my own business, singing along to the radio, and you can select from one of two very lovely, pothole-free lanes for your drive into the office.  Mmmkay?

P.S.  We all know that your secondhand 3 series BMW cost less than  $30k, even though YOU think that WE think you're really rich because you can afford a German sedan.  It's a lovely car,  a wise vehicular choice, spectacularly engineered, but you're not fooling anyone. 

Hugs and kisses!

Leigh

-------------------------------------------

Dear Self,

You're a little grumpy today, what's up?  It's the bad hair, isn't it?  I knew we should've gone with a pony tail.  Cheer up because in less than 24 hours we'll be eating lunch with Ken Ken and Ry Ry and they could care less how flat and dull your hair is!

Peace and love,

Self

Pinch Poke You Owe Me a Coke

My name is Leigh, I have an irrational fear of jinxes and...I have a job interview today. I'm only telling you this so that if I'm rejected we can blame it on a jinx and instead of, "Aw, Leigh is a pathetic loser," you can instead say, "Aw, poor Leigh. She jinxed herself! If only she hadn't posted that blog."

I had to dress half-fabulous/half-hobo today - slacks and heels with a ratty cardigan. That way if my boss shows up unannounced he'll be so distracted by the hideous cardigan that he won't notice the fabulous blouse, pants and shoes.   As soon as I leave the parking lot, the suit jacket comes out!  Viola!  I'm a genius.  Or a lunatic.  Either way, it's a great plan.

I don't know if you know this but I have a parking angel.  It's true - ask any family member or close friend and they'll confirm with bitter jealousy that I snag a spot wherever, whenever.  Christmas time at the busiest mall in Dallas?  No problem, there'll be a spot waiting for me near the entrance.  This morning, however, in my ratty cardigan (sidenote - I totally wrote this blog in a dream.  Major deja vous. Creepy!) and my clinging-to-life high heel (I'm pretty sure that stuffing said heels into a grocery bag and shoving them in suitcase where they remained for a week...I lied, two weeks...I'm not an efficient unpacker, okay?...was more than the left heel could take and she is crying out for her revenge this morning), I could not find a single parking spot.  Not a one!  I drove around for 5 minutes.  And then another 5.  And then I wanted to cry because if my parking angel abandoned me today, what does that say about the rest of the day? 

After a detour to Starbucks for a muffin to go (hey - I had to cure the coffee-on-an-empty-stomach jitters) I did find a spot.  In the parking garage.  17 miles from the building entrance.  And then, I got the sweetest email from my brother and I watched my favorite Liz Lemon montage (I laugh out loud EVERY time), and the world is right again and my parking angel just took a potty break when I needed her most (when you gotta go, you gotta go), and my left heel doesn't want her revenge, she's hanging in there because she believes in me.