The REAL Reason I Am Not Yet Married. It All Goes Back To One Thanksgiving...

My cousin Jessica and me

I always loved holidays as a child, especially Thanksgiving, when fall hung crisply in the air, and my entire crew of relatives packed into Aunt Martha's white, A-framed house, each family bringing a dish or two, until her crowded kitchen was filled with abundant aromas of enough food to feed a person for days. After a huge lunch and a brief pause while everyone sat around relaxing until their bodies could hold some chess squares or chocolate mousse for dessert, the day was filled with laughter and talking, games and reminiscing. When the early nighttime came, the cozy glow of soothing yellow lamplight filled the little house at Aunt Martha's.

Do YOU Have Big Jammers?

"Big Jammers."

That was the label printed on the box they came in.

Every afternoon when my co-workers and I closed the dentist office where I worked in my early twenties, we slid the "Big Jammers" under the doorknobs, hoping to prevent our office from being robbed, like some of the neighboring offices had been.

Well, if the Big Jammers could make such a difference for our office, I decided I wanted some for my home too. After all, I was a young single female living in a little old house, with no dog and no man. I needed to feel protected and out of harm's way! So one Saturday afternoon, my cousin Linsey and I set off on a shopping trip, one of our destinations being Lowe's, where I planned to make a purchase to help keep my home safe and secure.

We searched the store endlessly, up and down every aisle. We found tools, paint, kitchen cabinets, insect spray---but no Big Jammers. Unsuccessful. Finally, I spotted two store employees standing in the middle of an aisle talking with each other.

Play Wheel-of-Fortune With A Seven-Year-Old and A Ten-Year-Old, And These Are The Kinds of Puzzles You Try To Solve

"Seth and Mattie and Lori Brooks and Misty Butler home alone with a chance of meatballs and with Hello Kitty!!"

(Exclamation points included.)

When You Don't Know What Else To Say, So You Just Say "Thanks"

Their words might sound like compliments or politeness---yet they make you pause, and puzzle your brows as you think:

"WHAT did they mean by that?!"

Have you ever experienced those moments?

Years ago, an old boyfriend sweetly whispered to me, "I really like you. You're so ordinary."

Huh?

My Newest Random Skill

I am a woman who wears many hats.

I teach music.
I play piano for dancers.
I run errands for little old ladies
and tutor a boy with autism.

And that is just what I do for work.
My repertoire of what I do for fun is just as varied:
writing, weight-training, playing in bands,
spending hours practicing music or hours trekking through the woods.

But this past week, I added a new activity to my list of random undertakings:

One Of The Strangest Prayers I've Prayed

The past week I have spent my reading time before bed getting wrapped up in some of the most interesting books I've ever read in a while:

my journals.

I've been re-reading entries I've written over the past eight years. And let me tell you, in all seriousness, they have been page-turners. Better than some novels I have read. I should probably publish those babies and make some serious money---if not for the utter humiliation they would bring me.

Some of the entries were quite lovely---filled with beautiful prayers written carefully in my best penmanship, thoughtful poems, and original song lyrics---things I would even re-read when I need to give myself some encouragement. I wrote some of the same thoughts over and over----requests for God to bring me to the other side of the most recent heartache, or to help me with the music I was learning that week. Other entries were, well, not quite so poetic.

What Did You Say?!

WARNING: For those with delicate ears (eyes), I must forewarn you that, to most effectively relay this (true) story, this post does contain----a "bad" word.

The three of us sat on their living room floor---me, a nine-year old boy, and seven-year old girl---absorbed in a competitive game of Uno.

The little boy drew a card from the pile and, it not being to his liking, exhaled emphatically while flinging his card to the floor, "Well, DAMN!"

"What did you say?!" I glanced up in surprise. He and his sister were always full of random, humorous outbursts. But this was a first.

Look At That Girl With The Hot Bite Splint!

"What happened to my face?!" I thought in panic as I looked in the mirror.

I recently discovered I'm having TMJ problems and, a few weekends ago, experienced my jaw locking shut for the first time. It was excruciating. My mouth wouldn't open enough to allow the smallest bite off a fork into my mouth. In tears, I used my finger to push a tiny, smashed bite of a peach into the corner of my mouth, and mashed it up with my tongue, since my chewing mechanism was broken. Trying to talk was a huge ordeal, so I kept my mouth closed and slipped my words out like a ventriloquist---a ventriloquist without a dummy.

What I saw in the mirror wasn't any more comforting. The right side of my face had swelled up and, from my temple to jaw, my cheekbone jutted sharply out, a drastic contrast from the smoothness of the left side of my face. Would I have one protruding cheekbone forever? Completely bummed out, I wished for my usual face back. My normal, ordinary, what I had often considered boring, face.

Life Lessons From My Time As A Kisser

Senior year. I had become terribly ill with a case of the flu, which would take me a few weeks to kick. For once in my life, I actually hated to miss school. I had my first boyfriend. The two of us, along with our group of friends, had a select spot where we hung out in the mornings as we waited for the bell to ring---seated on the floor leaning against the lockers in the Business hall. I was an upperclassman, ranked 9th in my class, got to leave school after lunch and drive in my own car to a co-op job where my minimum wage made me feel rich....and I had a boyfriend. Life had never been so amazing.

Then the flu slowed me down for a few miserable weeks. But my distress turned to embarrassed horror one afternoon when my boyfriend called, and his groggy voice croaked, "I'm sick. I think I've got the flu too. I had to leave school early....They're all joking, you know...since we're both sick. They're saying we got it from kissing."

American Idol---In My Living Room.

That's what was going on at my place last night.

One of my nightly medicines has interesting side effects. I become very relaxed and unguarded, honest and unconcerned with anyone's opinion of me. As much as I hate needing to take it, I sometimes wonder if the 'me' who emerges afterwards is the true 'me,' the self that appears when nothing is holding me back.

I had taken my medicine last night, but my mind was still spinning around a song I had written. My roommate was catching up on some tasks in the kitchen. Her dog was cozily relaxing on the floor. I knew I needed to crawl into bed, but my keyboard looked like it was waiting for me. Just once, I thought to myself. I'll run through that song just once. 

I Started A New Fashion Trend That Spring...

I dressed carefully for the Good Friday service at the church I grew up in. I was in my early twenties and loved the Easter season, all that it celebrated, and the first signs of spring bursting into life all around me. I put on a dainty, pastel top and nice pants. I slipped on a pair of delicate, dressy white and gold sandals---the first time I had worn them.

Unfortunately, the weather ignored my hopes for a beautiful spring night. When my boyfriend and I left church after the service, winter's chill stubbornly clung to the night air. Still shivering after getting inside, I tried to burrow my frigid feet into the cushions of his couch, realizing that I had pulled my spring outfit and fragile sandals out of the closet way too early.

Valentine Schemes

February 14. It isn't a day I stress over, and it doesn't make me feel acutely aware of being single. If people want to spend the day paying special attention to a partner or celebrating with friends, I have no objections. I do enjoy asking my students about their Valentine parties and, of course, love receiving hand-made cards from them.

One thing that does crack me up is the number of people who publicly post gushy love sonnets to their partners via social media for Valentine's Day (or on frequent days, for some people). I know, there really is nothing wrong with that, so if mushy online conversations help keep the sparks alive for you and your significant other, go for it. It's simply one of those things that tickles my funny bone.

One Little Letter

Don't you hate that feeling you
get when you realize your error 
the split second you make it? 
When you see your keys locked 
in the car right as you slam the 
door shut. When you hit "Send" 
on that text message just as 
you realize that AutoCorrect has 
given it an entirely different meaning. 
When you try to gracefully drink a
glass of wine at a wedding reception
just to move awkwardly and spill
it all over a carefully selected
dress. 

Thankfully, not all errors bring 
tears and regret. Some just
bring laughter every time we 
remember.

From Dentists To Grinches

I lay stretched back in the dental chair on a rainy Monday morning as the friendly dentist poked around my mouth with her sharp little instruments. Glancing sideways at the hygienist, she remarked, "Well, she really doesn't get any build-up on her teeth at all, does she?" A simple comment regarding the health of my incisors, but I felt as pleased as if she had just introduced my mouth as the winning smile on the cover of a magazine. Ah, the little things you feel proud of when you are truly and officially an adult.

A Little Something Extra For Lunch

Soon I will be changing my place of employment, after about six years at my current location. Realizing I would have to make this transition hit me quite hard; this was, by far, my favorite place I have ever worked. I know a lot of that is due to the people I work with---people who I first viewed as simply co-workers...then friends...and, ultimately, family.

 
Knowing I have approximately two weeks remaining before saying those dreaded goodbyes, a lot of memorable, light-hearted moments continue to pop up in my mind.

Stick It Out More!

Having been a member of a gym since I was 19 years old, I rarely get embarrassed or self-conscious working out in a public place. I love the freedom of walking in with my hair pulled back, wearing comfy workout clothes and no make-up, yet looking right at home with everyone else. I've grown at ease walking into the free weights area and doing my bench-press, barely even noticing that I’m the only girl in a group of tough, muscular guys. I didn’t even get embarrassed a few years ago when I dropped a 25 pound weight on my foot. I picked it up and went on as if I was fine---although I thought I would pass out. I stubbornly finished my workout, then when I got to my car, took my shoe and (bloody) sock off to check out the damage.

But I was recently badly embarrassed at the gym.

Why My Co-Workers Call Me "Old"

Last weekend was Halloween, and a couple of my co-workers asked me if I would be going to the Halloween concert downtown. I actually had thought about it, even halfway planned to, earlier in the week. But it was Friday afternoon, and I was tired.

I'd had a rough week. The concert didn’t start until 9:00 p.m.. That meant I would have to stay dressed up for several more hours, instead of taking a hot bath and snuggling into pj’s.