Weekend Warriors - Ha!

We had a marvelous, unspectacular weekend - the kind you look back on with realization that nothing significant was accomplished and if the hours could be tallied, the ones spent sitting on butt watching meaningless television, surfing the web for abslolutely nothing in particular, and sleeping like a bear in hibernation would win - hands down.

We kicked the weekend off Friday morning with a road trip to Fort Worth to see my friend of seventeen billion years, Joanna. She had her first baby early Thursday morning and we could not wait to feast our eyes on her gorgeous little boy (we knew he would be gorgeous - he has fantastic genes). Joanna holding Elijah brought a flash flood of memories to my mind - meeting at Jenkins Park in the 5th grade and asking her to "be my best friend," sleeping in the closet because we were scared of the boogeyman but responsibly sticking a post it note on the door so my Mom would know where to look for us in the morning (and then the lightbulb moment - "Oh crap! We led the boogeyman right to our hideout!"), millions of passed notes signed "from your bestest friend in the whole world," our priceless home videos (my favorite - Joanna stopping in the middle of our signature newscast to tell me I was totally hogging the camera), and one of my all time favorites - sitting on the couch in our college apartment after midnight when we hear an intruder, we throw ourselves at the front door to escape his murderous wrath as Joanna literally throws me out of her way to exit first, we burst out screaming for help and our neighbors run to our rescue. After a thourough investigation, they capture our stalker - a pizza box that was sloppily tossed on top of an overflowing trashcan who finally spilled it's contents all over the floor, sounding like an crazy pyschopath bursting through a bedroom door. Ah, great times but Elijah is beautiful evidence that the best is yet to come.

As previously mentioned, the majority of our weekend was spent proving how lazy and unproductive we could be, however, we did manage to put out the scarecrows. That took about 10 minutes, so give us a pat on the back. Saturday night we had Cheesecake Factory and saw Tropic Thunder. I think the people in the audience made me laugh more than the actual movie itself, and lucky us, we were surrounded by the most obnoxious people in the entire theater. We had annoying-30-something-man-with-wife-and-parents directly in front of us. We gave him the award for most laughter during unfunny or inappropriate moments AND for his inability to use his inside voice. Behind us we had goofy-man-with-date (or wife/girlfriend) who wins the award for the loudest, most obnoxious laugh of all time AND the use of said laughter throughout the entire film. We also gave him the award for exceptional hearing, because we had no idea how he was able to physically hear the funny dialogue onscreen over his booming laughter. Good times.

Just for the record, I'm down 21 pounds total. I had a few weeks with very little to no weight loss, but after reeling myself back in and getting back on track, I'm down three pounds this week and I walked a grand weekly total of 15.6 miles. Yah me!

P.S. Here's a picture of Sid when prompted to "look psycho" while posing by our scarecrows.

I Can Bring Home the Chicken, Fry it Up in a Pan....

I just love it when you literally throw a meal together and it comes out of the oven all scrumptious and beautiful. Tonight was one of those nights where I had zero desire to run to the grocery store, and all of those cans in the panty who've been picked over and rejected for months, crying "pick me, pick me!" each time I open the pantry door - well, tonight was their time to shine.

Throw a little chicken and some onions in the skillet, add can of cream of chicken soup, can of northern beans, can of corn, crunched up tortilla chips, salsa (hey, I needed some tomato and green pepper), top with cheddar cheese, bake in the oven, and viola! You've got cheesy chicken casserole, or at least that's the title I gave Sid to distract him from the obvious realization that when served on a plate, my casserole very closely resembled a puddle of vomit (it was beautiful in the casserole dish, at least). It was delicious, though, and I feel great knowing I gave those cans in the pantry a purpose.

"Cooking is like love, it should be entered into with abandon or not at all."

Harriet van Horne

Goals for My Butt

Ahhh, fall is here beckoning me to throw on the ol' Nikes for a refreshing morning walk. Oh, who am I kidding? It's already 80 degrees and muggy as a seaport town.

I've renewed my weight loss vows. I have 12 weeks until our trip to New York City. I plan to step off that plane weighing 20 pounds less than I do at this very moment. That's only 1.7 pounds per week - totally doable. Everyone take this moment to pray that God will shrink my waistline. I'm not kidding. Do it now. (please?!)

Everytime I drag my hiney out the door for a walk, I imagine my butt is beautifully wrapped in a smokin pair of jeans, my slimmer body hugged by a fabulous to-be-determined coat (I've got my eye on four or five) and I'm gliding up 5th Avenue, my head thrown back in raucous laughter as Amanda and I insist to the pursuing paparazzi that despite our devastating beauty, we are NOT the two new Victoria Secret models and our husbands following a few steps behind are NOT James Bond stunt doubles..... oops, got a little carried away there. Too bad it will take more than 20 pounds, some plastic surgery, and stilts to push me into lingerie model territory.

Think I can do it? Of course I can!

Where did the Gray Go?

I am worried, the sick-to-my-stomach, headache-slithering-down-my-neck kind of worried. Maybe worried isn't even the right word - irked, bothered, disgusted, annoyed,terrified, all of the above?

If I didn't know better, I might start believing I've lost touch with the American people, that a line has been drawn between conservatives and liberals and I'm the lone ranger on the conservative side of the line. That's what the media wants me to believe, calling to me like the Devil, "Leeeeiiiighhh.....step over the line. Everyone is doing it, you know you want to join us." (I don't really believe liberals are from the devil, so spare me the hate comments)

Thank God I know better. My conservative values don't classify me as closeminded any more than a liberal's are unquestionably openminded. I'm not out-of-touch, and I'm certainly not a minority. What I am is exhausted and I've had it with the media shoving their agenda down my throat, with celebrities using fame to convince me of their political expertise (ha!), with the hypocrisy on both sides of the party line, with the intolerance for differences in opinion, with the media trying to convince me that my moral values don't fit in today's society, for the interpretation that "free speech" doesn't apply to someone with conservative viewpoints.

I'm scared, shaking in my Target flipflops, scared. My greatest fear is that we're all so afraid of the fuzzy gray areas that the tragic result will be a society that only accepts the black or the white. No debate. No tolerance. No yummy, gooey middle. I've always felt very proud to live in a country with freedom of religion - that I could lift praises to my God and Jesus Christ, while others could choose to worship as they so desired or not at all. I've never felt censored, nor have I ever wanted to censor others. I feel censored today, friends.

If I believe in the teachings of the Bible, which lists homosexuality as one of many many sins, I'm a bigot. Let's not even consider that I question God (and he loves it when I dig in deep and search for Truth) about why some people are born feeling trapped in the wrong body, at how something could be a "sin" when it's a part of some people from the day they are born, or that sins aren't rankable - we all sin and our sins are equal in God's eyes and I'm thankful it's up to God to judge in the end, because I certainly don't want His job. Regardless of the fact that I haven't the tiniest ounce of hate in my heart for men and women with a different sexual orientation than my own, I am a bigot.

If I pray for a society with fewer abortions and more choices for life, I am a dangerous threat to women's rights. Let's not even talk about the fact that my heart hurts for the women who, at this very moment, are sitting in their homes or a clinic or in their offices tearing their souls apart searching for the answer of what to do next. Is it so dangerous for me to pray that those poor, hurting women choose life? I think it's more dangerous to believe this issue is so easily decided.

Sarah Palin is Lucifer's daughter because she believes creationism should be taught in schools alongside evolution. SHE is closeminded for wanting all theories presented to students, not the liberals who only want THEIR beliefs taught in school. I believe in the Big Bang Theory. I believe in evolution. And I believe God is the force behind it all. Oh, but that fuzzy gray stuff has no place in schools, does it? And I am a crazy, dangerous conservative and someone better shove a giant hand over my mouth before I infect others with my "disease." How dare I advocate that children be taught to question and debate and make their own choices about what they will believe.

I'm all typed out, so I'll end my blog by sending hugs and kisses to all, even my friends who will think this blog entry is hogwash. Just remember to wash your hands so you don't catch my conservatism.

Hurricane Ike - Newsworthy or Not?

Has anyone noticed how little coverage Hurricane Ike is getting? Is it just me? Seriously, correct me if I'm wrong because it's not like I sit in front of the TV all day watching the news, but with Hurrican Katrina, we were bombarded by it all day, everday, from every possible angle because the world recognized the horrific aftermath the storm left for it's Lousiana and Missisippi residents.

Do people realize how bad it is? Do people understand that entire neighborhoods on the coast are simply gone? Our old beach hangout, Crystal Beach, where we'd go camping, where we rented beach houses for prom, where we'd spend weekends lounging on the beach or watching idiots "surf" down the beach (and by idiots, I mean Sid, Ryan and Jesse and by surf, I mean riding cardboard on the sand while being pulled by a truck) - it's all gone - the Bolivar Peninsula is now an island (so I've been told, not like I can prove it for myself). Houses, businesses, gas stations - gone. Do people realize that power could be out until Thanksgiving - not just for Galvestonians, but for millions of people throughout the entire region? That thousands of businesses can't open because they either no long exist or they're damaged or they have no power? And schools can't open due to damage and no power? That thousands of people are sitting in a shelter or in the home of a loved one, with absolutely NO idea if their houses are still standing? That thousands of workers from throughout the country are leaving their families (thank you Zac!) to risk their lives as they rebuild the infrastructure?

Where are the celebrities? Where are the telethons? Where is the news coverage? I've heard that the Red Cross is pratically begging for donations! I read some comments recently of people who were posting on YouTube videos and hurricane damage photos saying things like, "Why should we care about you rich white people with your vacation homes?" Is there a more ludicrous time to play the race card than in the midst of a natural disaster? Are there really people out there who feel no sympathy for the lives lost, for the families who won't have Christmas at home this year since "home" is no longer standing simply because they are white or "rich" or both? I find it just as sick that during Hurricane Katrina, I read similar comments of disinterest and hate against the "poor", black communities that were truly suffering. I am stunned. Truly, disgustingly stunned at the ignorance people so publically display.

Crystal Beach Before:

Crystal Beach: After

George? Is That You?

The weather is absolutely glorious. The ACs have been switched to the "Off" position - hopefully for the rest of the year (though highly doubtful), and we've been sleeping with the windows open, as temperatures have dropped into the 50s for the past few nights. Last night, with a tiny thrill, I slipped under the covers to warm my chilly feet, placed my sleepy head on my fluffy pillow, let my tired eyelids slide ever so gracefully shut and...son of a biscuit, either a psychotic madman was stalking our street or World War 1 of the neighborhood dogs had just begun. But the barking and howling and yipping (oh my!) could not overcome the powerful magnetism of rest and in minutes, I was sleeping a magnificent sleep, dreaming happy dreams, I'm lounging on a sandy Hawaiian beach and George Clooney is rubbing suntan lotion on my back as he whispers.....son of a freight train, I'm awake! And it's morning. And George Clooney is snatched out of my fantasy and back on some Italian Villa or billion dollar yacht or whatever heavenly place he came from while I listen to the surviors of the canine war still barking, still howling, still yipping. Goodbye George, goodbye beach, hello reality. Sigh..............

It's Friday, It's Friday!

I met Stacey for lunch at Ra for sushi. Wowser - it was incredible. We both stuffed our faces and then laughed about finding someone to roll us to our cars. The lobster roll was my favorite, although the spicy tuna gave it a run for it's money. I could eat sushi everyday. Maybe I will. Maybe I'll eat so much I'll turn into a fish. Wait, if I'm a fish I could no longer eat sushi because that would make me a cannibal. Nevermind.

Lots of Hurricane Ike chatter today. I'm glad my parent's moved away from Baytown, because our old neighborhood was already flooding before the worst even hit. Sid has been in touch with his parents and his two best friends, Ryan and Jesse, and I think he's a tiny bit jealous he's not there to join in their hurricane party fun. But, we'll be glad not to have all that cleanup, although I guess if it's really bad, we'll have to drive down to help. Stupid hurricane. We're supposed to get 2-4 inches or rain tomorrow but we're a little worried about the predicted sustained winds. Last nasty wind storm that blew through destroyed our roof and demolished our storage shed. I guess we're blessed not to be on the coast - at least we'll still have a house.

I cleaned the house today so Sid and I can be lazy turkeys tomorrow, as the rain invades the area, without being swallowed up in dog hair. If only there was a magic vacuum that would roam my floors, keeping them dog hair free. Oh yeah. It's called Roomba. Maybe I should buy one.

That's all I have to say. I'm not very exciting lately. Sorry.

Annie Found Her Family

Our special house guest didn't stay long. Her owner called me this afternoon and described her perfectly. We met him at the Post Office and "Annie" ran over to him, her tail wagging, and jumped up on him as he kneeled down to greet her. He said that their entire yard has electric fence except a 6-8 inch gap and apparently that's how she escaped. He seemed really happy to have his girl back, and we were happy for life to go back to normal. Dixie and Bear were thrilled when we came back through the door and "Annie" was nowhere in sight. We really were not interested in adding dog #3 to the family, but would have fostered her for as long as it took find her family or place her in a loving home if she wasn't claimed.

After all of our rain-soaking, sign-making, sign-posting, driving all over town, "Annie's" owner found us through Animal Control. We reported her "found" this morning, and she went into the searchable database at Animal Control. When her owner called me, the first question I asked was, "What's your dog's name." I laughed aloud when he answered, "Dixie," as I looked down at my OWN Dixie laying at my feet. I put him on hold, ran to the bottom of the stairs, hollered, "Dixie!" and sure enough, she came pouncing down the stairs like the house was on fire. We've been calling her all sorts of things to see if she would respond. Annie, Brandy, Lucy, Daisy, Bealle, Blue, Maxie, Baby and on and on, with not even a tiny head movement of recognition. And all along, everytime we said "Dixie" to our own Beagle, she was thinking, "Ooooooh...okay. These people know who I am. It's cool."

One of my favorite songs of the moment is "That's Not My Name" by the Ting Tings and now I will always think of Dixie the Bluetick Coonhound when I listen to it. I've been singing the song with the appropiate edits ever since we found out Annie's real name:

"...With nothing to consider,

they forget my name, name name.
They call me Bealle.
They call me Annie.
They call me her.
They call me Sam.
That's not my name! That's not my name! That's not my name!

They call me quiet girl.
But I'm a riot.
Daisy & Lucy.
Always the same.
That's not my name! That's not my name! That's not my name!

And as usual, I'm including a Youtube video because if you haven't heard the song, you need to! My Ting Tings playlist is the best workout music ever.

Our Special Guest

We have a special guest in our home. We found her wandering the highway in our little town, causing quite a scene as she hollered at passer-byers and refused to move from the path of speeding automobiles. She doesn't speak English, so we don't know her name or where she's from, but we call her "Annie" and she doesn't seem to mind. She's obviously the product of good breeding but she's pushy and drools a lot. Oh, and she drinks from the toilet.

I probably didn't fool you, did I? Our guest is a purebred bluetick coonhound (her photo is on my photo blog), and bless her heart, she didn't grasp the danger in her daring decision yesterday to walk right in the middle of one of the busiest streets in our area. As cars screamed past, she howled and barked and cried her little heart out, and she was clearly terrified and confused. We pulled into a parking lot, rolled down the window and whistled to her, and the sweet girl trotted right to my window and jumped up to greet me. She wasn't wearing a collar, and we knew we had to take her home or she would be hit by a car in minutes.

We drove around for a bit, thinking maybe she got loose as her owner was taking her for a walk, or that maybe she jumped from the back of a pickup, but no one appeared to be searching for their lost companion. She hit it off with Bear and Dixie, but they are starting to show signs of fear that maybe this visitor is here to stay.

Miss Annie is AWESOME! She is the most affectionate dog I've ever seen, and that's saying a lot because Bear Bear gives lots of hugs and kisses. When it was time for bed, we brought Bear and Dixie's old kennel into the bedroom but left the door to it open so she could sniff and explore. In one graceful movement, she was on our bed with her face tucked under my arm and she nuzzled and nuzzled until she was as close to me as possible, whimpering and crying the entire time. When it was time for lights out, she unwillingly went to the kennel, and she didn't like it one bit. This morning, Sid opened the door and before I knew it, she was nuzzled next to me in bed. with her head on my pillow as if to say, "THIS is where I want to sleep." We had to leave this morning for an hour or so (to hand out posters to local vets and post signs) and when we came back, she howled at us while simultaneously kissing our faces for at least 5 minutes.

We have signs all over town, so hopefully her family will claim her. If not, we're confident we can find her a loving home. The local police chief swore that Animal Control would take care of her and find her owners or a new home, but the vets around here told a different tale of euthanization after 4 or 5 days. That is NOT happening to Miss Annie.

If you've never seen a bluetick coonhound or heard them bay, you have to watch this video I found on Youtube for an illustration. They are the coolest dogs and their bark is hilarious!

I starred in a Disney cartoon today

Waking up to the melody of rain tapping on my window seems to teleport me into a Disney movie. I hear my plants serenading me outside, I hear the grass sighing in relief, I see myself on the lawn wearing a beautiful raincoat and dancing with an umbrella, and this morning I felt the promise that autumn is only a heartbeat away. I love rain, maybe more than I love a heaping portion of Luby's macaroni and cheese, and that's saying A LOT.

With the rain comes cooler temperatures, and I decide to tackle my walking early so I can spend this evening buried in a blanket on the sofa watching 90210 (and eating Luby's mac and cheese, perhaps?) Still feeling like the girl in the Disney cartoon, I step out the door with my headphones stuffed in my ears and feet wrapped up in Nikes and I hit the street with a happy face. Up the street I go with my ponytail swinging in the breeze and Eminem blaring in my ears (okay, not exactly Disney soundtrack material). I make my first righthand turn when suddenly the voice in my head breaks through my cheery optimism and screams, "It's freaking humid out here! What were you thinking, Snow White?"

Ignoring the rude interuption, I keep on walking...and walking....and walking...and sweating. I make a left turn on the longest street in history, which happens to be my favorite part of the walk because it's a long uphill stretch, followed by an equally long, glorious downhill and at the end, I get to turn around and follow it back home. Just as I make my turn around, a friendly little bug decides to join me, buzzing around my head like a long lost friend. How fitting for my Disney movie! I bet he's enjoying my presence and singing a nifty tune like, "Hi ho, hi ho, it's up the hill we go. You stink like sweat, but you're sweet I bet, hi ho, hi ho, hi ho."

So, up the hill we travel together, my new friend sweeping by my face and then swooping by my ears. Oh what fun we're having! After about a mile, the fun is over and I'm sending telepathic messages to my friend, "Oh, buu-ggg, I think I hear your mommy calling you. Fly away! I don't think we can't be friends anymore." I'm keeping it cool and calm on the outside, because I don't want people to think I'm crazy and start shutting their blinds and locking their doors everytime I pass by. Finally I get a look at Mr. Bug and I'm pretty sure he's a bee and wants me dead. I'm also really ticked by this point because he doesn't seem to be getting the message that the party is over. My arms start swinging, my hands start swatting, I'm slapping my face when he buzzes by, and I know I look like an escaped mental patient having her ultimate meltdown.

Finally a change in wind direction takes Mr. Killer Bee far far away and this ticked off, melting Disney princess makes it to her castle and lives grumpily ever after.

My not so bloggy blog

Wow, I haven't posted in a long time. I bet all of your are bubbling over with grief and having serious Leigh withdrawls. Fear not - I'm back. Granted, I have nothing very exciting to share, but I'm back, nevertheless.

We had a nice, relaxing weekend. I kicked it off with lunch Friday with my buddy, Amanda, at our usual place - Cafe Express. I looked down at my cell phone and realized we'd been there for two hours. I love my Amanda time, what can I say! NYC here we come! (well, not quite YET, NYC, but in a few months...)

Saturday we ventured to the scrap yard in south Dallas to say goodbye to our friend, Mr. Cherokee (see my photo blog for Mr. Cherokee's final photo). His life was tragically terminated after 30 years of servitude to human drivers. He was faithful, he was kind, but mostly he was rusty and his body needed rest. As they say, however, energy cannot be created or destroyed, so thanks to recycling, he will oneday live again as a refrigertor or another automobile.

We joined Scott, Stacey and company Saturday night for a delicous meal prepared by Stacey and my introduction to the world of Ultimate Fighting. I spent the first hour muttering things like, "OMG-they are rolling around in each other's blood!? Are they going to clean the mat after every fight? Have they been tested for AIDS?" and "Wow, this is a pretty intimate contact sport, look at where he just put his face - ewwww!" and "Ooooh, I'd like to wrestle that guy!" (The boys mostly ignored the comments of appreciation we girls dropped every five seconds). By the end, I was...entertained, but not quite a fan. And by the way, Chuck Liddell is not that cute AND he got knocked out. Not sexy, Chuck. Not sexy at all.

The biggest highlight of my Sunday was True Blood, the new HBO show based on the Southern Vampire Mysteries by Charlaine Harris. After reading the Twilight series, I was in need of some vampire replacements to fill the void in my heart. I had two great choices (thanks to my Google research) - the Kerrelyn Sparks vampire series or the Southern Vampire Mysteries by Charlaine Harris. Imagine my thrill when I saw that a series based on the Harris series would debut in September! With plenty of time before the premiere, I decided to save the Harris books for September, and sure enough, I finished "Dead Until Dark," book 1, just in time for the show's premiere. I fell head over heels in love with the characters, especially deliciously dangerous Bill and quirky, adorable Sookie and I thought the actors did a beautiful job breathing life into my favorite characters. While True Blood is good, the book is better, but when is that NOT the case?

That's all I got, folks. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel more bloggy.

The Way I See It, Growing Up Stinks

I think the universe is trying to send me a message via my Starbucks cup, for I've received the same "The Way I See It" message on my last 17 billion lattes.

The way I see it # 39

Every morning when I brush my teeth, I look at the aging face in the mirror and think, wake up, honey, it could be worse. It could be happening to you.

- Philip Levine (Pulitzer Prize-Winning author of numerous poetry collections including The Simple Truth.)

The first time I read it, I laughed outloud and thought, "Pretty clever, Mr. Levine, even though you call yourself honey." (If I ever hear Sid call his twin in the mirror "honey" I might be the tiniest bit worried). The second time I got the message, I giggled and joked to myself that maybe the cup was a sign that I've turned into an old lady. The third time, Sid laughed; I didn't. The fourth, I almost threw my steaming hot latte out the window (except I really hate for good things to go to waste). By the 17 billionth time, I'm really thinking God is speaking to me through my Starbucks cup. But what exactly is He saying? I'm not really old at 28, am I? Is my face aging already? Are my looks really so bad that I would speak to my reflection with such envy that we're unable swap places? Sigh....

The way I see it, growing up stinks.

Labor Day Celebration

We had a fabulous Labor Day weekend, with one tiny complaint - it was too short. Actually, I'm lying, because I could easily complain about the gas prices and the fact that I could rent a motel room for what we pay to board our dogs per night, but all things considered, we had a marvelous holiday. We made our way down to Navasota Saturday morning to joined our family at a cabin in Camp Allen for two nights. Lovely cabin, on a the lake, in the woods...perfect!

First things first, we made a quick stop in Aggieland, having lunch at one of our favorite old hangouts - Koppe Bar and Grill (not the original, but the new one is yummy too)- and a latte from another beloved spot - Sweet Eugenes. We always love visiting College Station and it will always feel like "our town" no matter how long we've been gone. Driving by our old house across from campus makes me long for those cool autumn mornings when the Aggie Band practicing was our alarm clock. After driving through town, however, it's obvious that new Aggies don't live in the same Aggieland we did. Most have never seen the real Bonfire burn, never eaten at Tom's, Garcia's or Bullwinkles, never sat in the horseshoe at Kyle Field, never walked across the Rainbow Bridge, never had ice cream at Swensen's. It's insane how many new restaurants and shops have been added since we left 6 years ago. They have a Chick Fil A on Texas Ave, for Pete's sake! But, "we are the Aggies, the Aggies are we" regardless of how much our town has changed over the years.

We joined up with the fam around 4 on Saturday and spent the rest of the day and evening relaxing and playing catch up on the back porch. Sid and I planned to pick up Makenzie on Sunday and deliver her back home on Monday morning, but the stupid sensationalized hurricane destroyed that plan. We worried that traffic might be tricky with people evacuating and also the slight possibility that Gustav could turn West and pose more danger to Houston. That would've left Makenzie separated from her parents and that was a risk no one wanted to take, so we'll see her and Ryan in a few weeks. [Sniff] Sunday we did lots more relaxing, the boys kayaked and fished, Deena and I took the kiddos swimming, played some Hearts and Spades, a hilarious game of Pictionary, stuffed our faces with junk food galore, and Sid and I slept like a rock when the day ended. We headed back home early Monday and caught up on chores.

Hope all of you had a relaxing Labor Day as well!