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Friday, December 30, 2011

wee wee wee, all the way home

i'm a complex woman. (how's that for a loaded sentence, i can just hear the men laughing.)

i can, and prefer to, do a lot of things for myself that i could let a man do--change my own tire, cut my own grass, and...sheetrock. i possess a strength that sometimes surprises even me.
however...i am sensitive in a way that is completely out of character for this outer strength i display. in short, i am a big ole cryin' baby. which brings me to today's tale:

recently, i was spending time with my favorite person on earth. i knew that i was going to "pick up a pig" in a cattle trailer, but i dressed nice anyway. (i hadn't dressed nice in 2 days due to my vacation from work. you women are nodding who like to get gussied up...& i like for my man to like what he sees, which is also helped by the "nice" outfit.) back to the story.....i'm in an old pick-up truck with a large cattle trailer on the back. gussied up, comfortably between my only sunshine and his first cousin.

we rode a lil ways, laughin & talkin. and then we pulled up to a farm where a very large pig was sitting in another cattle trailer. as we approached i could feel my insides gettin worked up. there he was. "wilbur." my chest got tight. i started breathing heavier. "some pig." i could feel the tears stinging behind my eyes, just wanting to be free. "don't do it" i told myself. i wanted to do that hard cry that i mentioned before in a certain post about bustin my tail at the farm bureau insurance office. but this time i felt for him, not for me. an even worse cry. as i watched that handsome, tall drink-ah-water tap that pig on the hiney to get him to walk over into our trailer i whispered aloud, "oh my goodness, oh my goodness." and then, with the inner strength that surprises, i said out loud, "get a grip, chrissy. you eat at little pigs barbeque once a week. by yourself. you clean your plate. you smile. you feel satisfied. this is life. the circle of life. stop it." and i did. i sucked it up. just like that.

when the boys got back in the truck i said something really dumb and girly in a sad voice like, "aw....we're gonna eat him."

they were none the wiser, never included for one split second in my intense inner struggle.

and i will, eat wilbur. i'll just try not to think too much about it.

Monday, October 10, 2011

a short, but true, story

on my way to get my nails filled in after school (sigh...i should really give that up.....)
but anyways, on the way there i talked to my mother. i love my mother. the older i get the more i realize she is right (more about that some other day). she was cooking breakfast for supper, and said that she would wait for me but i insisted i would be fine.

the guy who did my nails was painstakingly slow, but i wasn't complaining because i had no where to be and meticulous can easily be translated "beautiful nail" (yup, singular. if you've ever been, you know why that's funny.)

so...sorry, momma. after all that talk of breakfast, i did wind up at the waffle house.

all by myself.

and it was glorious.

on a monday evening. at the high top. just me and the staff and a few other patrons.
but the waiter, my waiter, looked like a model. i kid you not. he was the kind of cute that makes women not be able to make words. i coughed when he approached me because i had to in order to wipe the cheesy grin off my face. hilarious. i really felt like a 7th grader. i texted 2 of my friends (one of whom, will not be named, asked me to sneak and take his picture, LOL. what's more, i tried, but i felt horrible and couldn't go through with it.) And everytime he came over to talk to me, i was really in awe that this bird was working in the waffle house.

and then, he opened his mouth.
again. and again. and again. (boy, sometimes less really IS more, i need to remember that.) while he tried to talk to me for the next 20+ minutes, i figured out WHY he was a waffle house employee. not that it's not a respectable job, i'm just sayin...surprising.

but fortunately there was another thing there, from beginning to end, that was all that i dreamed it would be and all star special: 2 eggs scrambled, grits, toast, 3 pieces of bacon and the waffle for "dessert." mmmmm......

so i went back to dreaming over my food and the man i really would like to have in my life.

the. end.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

my very own steel magnolias

truvy says, "Honey, time marches on and eventually you realize it is marchin' across your face."

i feel like it is marchin across mine some days, but at least i have my own clairee, m'lynn, ouiser, shelby and truvy's to hold my hold while it does...

recently a close friend of mine experienced a death. her daddy died. i'm close to her and her momma. we were sitting around the table, days after and she remarked, "what do people DO during times like this who don't have a church family...?" i thought about that for a minute. and it's true. God's people do tend to rise up in times of crisis. if you have a church family you know that you have an automatic, guaranteed support system, some vigilant workaholics. and they are sincere in thier desire to minister.

but i must admit, God gives families in all sorts of ways. i know that those same church people will fly to my aid when my daddy dies, but so will another group of ladies.

my friends.

in no particular order, but as soon as they can, i know, i KNOW that my core will come.

when i watched those church ladies, my friends, i saw you in thier eyes....

claire and carrie, making sure that everyone had a place to sit or a napkin under thier drink.

fran and sarah, cleaning that kitchen just as hard as they could, washing dishes and mopping the floor.

jo anne and barbara, collecting money and planning meals for the next week for the family.

kelly and lisa, sitting in the living room telling the stories that make us howl with laughter through our tears.

ashley and renee
, sitting next to me, in strength not saying a word, just being near.

kim, hugging.

and no doubt, there would be more...

thank you, girls. thank you for crying with me now, while i wait for mr. right, and discover, yet again, that wasn't him. thank you for encourging me not to give up on my dreams. thank you for writing me love notes and buying me housewarming gifts and for "hooting and hollering" when i was on that stage as teacher of the year.

thank you for being steel magnolias kind of friends.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

man! i feel like a woman

it's funny being a woman. to say our mind is complex is one of the grossest understatements one could make.
and the way we let ourselves worry...what a waste of time.
i like to lie to myself and announce to others aloud that i don't worry about things like "other women do." and i don't worry like many of my female family and friends do, but i do worry just plenty. for example...
a couple of weeks ago i was at my favorite asian-flavored nail salon getting a pedicure and a fill-in. the lady who sat in front of me asked me how i was doing, how school was going, if i was happy to almost be out for the summer ...and made lots of other small talk. and then it happened. (now keep in mind, i'm a frequent flyer in this establishment.)
"would you like eyebrow wax today?"
what?! an eyebrow wax!? i've never had my eyebrows waxed. i over-pluck them on my own occasionally and thank you very much. do i need my eyebrows waxed? oh my word, what must they look like for her to ask me that? maybe i DO need my eyebrows waxed....
so for what seemed like an hour (which was probably the next 5 minutes, tops) i worried myself to death about my eyebrows and kept non-chalantly trying to look around my suggestive "friend" to see my own reflection in the mirror behind her. it was really to far away for me to do an honest assessment...dang.
finally it was time for me to get up and wash my hands. i walked across the room breathing deeply awaiting the close-up view of these monsters...and just as i suspected. they were fine. thin and needing a FILL IN themselves at the very least.
good grief, charlie brown...all of the things i COULD have been thinking about during that time. should i get an ice cream or not when i leave here? what should wear to church this sunday morning?sometimes i wonder why i even vote... is oprah really retiring if she is going to have that whole network? won't that be more work for her? why couldn't i have been oprah? if i had that much money i would......

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

sometimes those who ride high need to be knocked down a notch...

To whom may care/be interested/or even be sinisterly, secretly happy about my mishap, here goes the story...

i got the (left) 4-inch leopard print heel stuck in the sidewalk. thinking back it was the kind of occurance that seems like it's happening in slow motion...i was walking REAL BIG, like i do, (if you know me, you've seen it and i'm sorry...) and that tiny excuse for a foundation wedged itself in one of those on-purpose cracks in the sidewalk. my ankle rolled to the outside, all the way down until it touched the ground. i winced without making an audible sound and then as the ending of this one fluid motion i pushed against the tiny heel, forcing it all the way back upright. and i just knew someone had seen it. i knew there was no way he would miss it...

he? oh yeah, sorry...i was @ farm bureau @ the time of aforementioned mishap (which is another story involing a deer & the civic) and the claims assessor (who was cute and telling me all about his upcoming vacation to the jazz fest in new orleans) was walking back in didn't see a thing. i kid you not. not the heel stick, not the roll, not my left hand on the ground, not even the awkward wobble and quick steps forward to "right" myself. i wasn't even "caught."

He opened the door for me and I, in severe pain, smiled real extra big and sat in the lobby thinking funny things so as not to shed a tear when i really wanted to do that girl thing of cry real hard, as hard as i could force tears out, and wail "ooooowwwwwwwww-wuh!" and then stop. abruptly. and wipe my tears while i laugh at how ridiculous the whole thing was. you know the cry.

so now i'm @ home with an iced and elevated ankle and i'm contemplating which "outfit" i'll wear with my "fancy" flip flops tomorrow...

i'm so vain. i probably think this post is about me.

Monday, February 21, 2011

i love pictures that look different.
and i plan to get better at taking them,
but for now i love to edit them..

prone to wander

i love some new christian songs, contemporary, they're called.
and i could list some of them and how thier lyrics move me to tears...they do.

and yet, after growing up in a southern baptist church, and returning to the very same one now as an adult, i must admit, the old hymns are what really get me.

last night i was sitting beside my daddy, looking up at my sister (and others) leading in "come thou font of every blessing." i love that song, but some of the old hymns words are like the reading the king james version of the bible to me. too complicated initially, too much, require thought...

but when you do listen to them, think on them. oh the truth in them...

the verse that gets me every time is this,

oh to grace

how great a debtor

daily i'm constrained to be

let thy goodness like a fetter

bind my wand'ring heart to thee

prone to wander, Lord, i feel it!

prone to leave the God i love...

here's my heart, oh, take and seal it.

seal it for thy courts above.

i could have written that. easily. i feel like i've spent my life begging God to help me, to help me stay close to Him. (And i've learned that He's given me what I need to stay, I just need to use it. To do it.) "prone to wander, Lord i feel it, prone to leave the God i love!" i do love him and i do still, sometimes, want to wander. i'm amazed after all he has taught me how i still sometimes want to go my own way. sometimes i consider it for a moment and sometimes for days i'll struggle with his lead...

but......there is nothing new under the sun...the writer of this hymn in...(hold on, whilst i google when it was written...) the 18th century was a pastor and hymnist?? Robert Robinson...a pastor? he wanted to run the wrong way in the 18th century, like i do today, in 2011? that is somewhat relieving.

some other old hymns bring me to tears too...

-it is well with my soul: "my sin, not in part, but the whole. is nailed to the cross, and i bear it no more. praise the lord! praise the lord, oh my soul!"

-great is thy faithfulness: "thou changest not, thy compassions they fail not. as thou has been, thou forever wilt be."

-blessed assurance : "Jesus is MINE, oh what a foretaste of glory divine! this is my story, this is my song. praising my saviour all the day long!"

-how great thou art: "and when i think, that God, His son not sparing, sent Him to die, i scarce can take it in. that on that cross, my burden gladly bearing, he bled and died to take away my sin, then sings my soul, my savior god to great thou art, how great thou art.................."

what hymn gets you everytime?

sing it today.

sing it right now at your computer for Him.

and sing it more often.

Monday, February 14, 2011

a 31 year old's valentine's...

life can be painful.

i am 31 years old. i am currently single. i love valentines day. i love ridiculous romantic displays and i love how much children say "i love you" to me at work, because i know that they mean it.

i have made some stupid decisions. i have made some wonderful ones.
today, @ 31, i am the sum of those decisions. both good and bad.
and i am determined not to get in the way in of my life...what it can be.
and when i came home today to run with my lab, i felt painfully, excrutiatingly, sorry for myself.

and then i went to my parents house. my intention was to give to them, i cleaned her house and cooked dinner for them and then my sweet father came home...
he made me feel special, made me feel small (in the best kind of way). he has always had a way of doing that. and today, as he so often does, he did it, without saying a word...i can't even type this without tears streaming down my face, but i suppose that's the best part. his card spoke of remembering a little girl who cut out construction paper hearts to make homemade valentines and how much he loved her...and how much he still does.

and then my whirlwind of a nephew blew in. "CHRISSSSYYYY!!!!!!!!!" he yelled and then said, "here" cocked his head and said, "i love you." and we played for the next hour. he wore me OUT.

so, with a 52 year old and a 2 year old who love me more than they can really put into words, my 31 year old valentine's day wasn't quite so sad after all...

Tuesday, February 8, 2011


i've been reading about the crucifixtion. that's why He came. it blows my mind. so much about the bible, about Christ, i believe. i accept, even though i can't wrap my mind around it. what He endured for me is unfathomable. recently our youth pastor asked us how we would live every day if we had to watch the passion of the christ every morning before we started our day. that movie messed me UP. in the very best way. it was moving. i would live life differently...

mark 14:65 says, "they blindfolded him and beat him with their fists."
beat him with thier fists.
beat. him.
i've never been beaten.
i've never even been hit once in a way that really hurt.
i can't imagine having the crap beat outta me, while i can't even see where or when it's coming.

and another thing bothers me. pilate was a pawn.
there are things about God that are sometimes hard to swallow. he is no less God and because he is God he can do whatever he wants to.

pilate seemed regretful @ releasing barrabas instead of Jesus, talking about "washing his hands" of the whole thing. the bible is clear that pliate thought christ was falsely arrested and he basically said to the crowd, more than once, "are you sure...?"
pilate never made a profession of faith that was recorded. he was used and wasn't one of God's treasures. his chosen. this is hard for me. it doesn't seem fair. but life is not fair. God is not fair.
so i guess the only thing i can take from this is that God can do, God can use, whatever, whomever, He wants to. and i need to be focused on being grateful that he chose me. saved me. loves me. uses me.

Saturday, February 5, 2011


this past fall we had a girls weekend. only the 3 of us. it was glorious.

on the way to our destination we joked about blogging about our trip.
i told them i would do it. (this was when we all had taken a facebook haitus.)

so i started saving things that we thought were hilarious in the notepad on my blackberry.
(and don't you hate when others don't find something funny that you, at the time, busted a gut laughing at...?)

lindsay said that she would blog too, but not really. like on paper. she would use a gluestick, literally "cut and paste" her photos in her blog. kinda like ole dolly. (there. that was one of the aforementioned funny things that we right nearly peed in our pants over.)

#1. ChickFilA 10:45. we had no comcept of time really because we were "winging" it on some of this trip. there were exactly three chicken minis left from breakfast, thank GOODNESS. however, after my sililoquy in the car on the WAY to chickfila about how glorious thier hashbrowns are and how they're better than anyone else's, lindsay got the last. dang....but she did save two for me. but none for mama. only we didn't even know mommer wanted one until she registered her complaint when got back in the car. we took a picture @ chick fil a...

please note that i have on no makeup.

#2. After being back in the car Gail said, "Chrissy, it's 11:43, put on your makeup."

#3. outlet mall shopping on day 2. mom (in a back brace, not important, but she was.) child in a stroller. stroller front sign: peanut allergy. stroller rear sign: peanut allergy. child bookbag hanging from stroller: peanut allergy sign. wow spelled backwards is still wow.

now i'm an elementary school teacher and i understand the severity of the peanut allergy.

however, he was with her. were the signs that much trouble to take off? did she think that someone was going to grab him outta there and shove something peanutty down his trap? it was just really too much. sadly, i did not get a photo of that.

#4. rack room. late afternoon. one of us, who will remain anonymous, said, "y'all, i tried on some of them frye boots. they are so expensive. fine, they're $180. can you believe that? i told myself that when i lose 30 lbs, i've gonna buy 'em for myself. i think i'm safe."

#5. i'm going to teach my mother to use a blinker if it KILLS me. "why won't they let me OVER?" "because they can't read your mind momma..."

#6. Disney store. (man, apparently all we did was shop!) weezie. is she cheap or thrifty? smart of over the top? upon our viewing of the halloween disney costumes my sister announced, "the pajama versions of most of these costumes are just as good as the $100 'official' costume. for real." i agreed with her. and then someone i bought a $21 red scarf at the gap. but it's a beauty and i knew i would "get a lotta wear out of it." (and now that it's feb i can say honestly that i did!)

women. who are related. we cover the gammut. (sp?) silly girls...

non dog lovers

people who don't like dogs or don't understand dogs act like they don't know anything about animals. this summer i spent a lot of time outside with zeva. and one morning i was reading and one of my neighbors made me really mad and really entertained simulataneously...

he looked at zeva and looked away, looked, looked away...and while he was walking away he kept looking back over his shoulder at her. so i say to you dear neighbor, "first of all, you know there is an invisible fence between you and her. you watched us put the thing in the ground. you have seen her avoid it like the plague for weeks. but even if there wasn't a fence, do you not understand that your repeated nervous eye contact is like a challenge to her? whether she interprets it as a game or a threat, she is a LOT less likely to just walk the other way if you will just walk away and stop looking. seriously don't turn around, good grief.

small town living

a few weeks ago i was at "the" ingles. i was feeling particularly haughty that day and was taking inventory of all that annoyed me:

-this persnikity (sp) old broad taking the 2nd magazine off the rack. i'm sure she'd heard the research on how many people touched that first one...

-the 16 year old who kept repeating loud enough to impress me, "i caint wait to git drunnnnnk tonight."

-the percentage of overweight people who passed me by

-and a woman who pinched the crap outta her misbehaving kid really got my insides going, but then...a wonderful thing happened.

one of the bag boys was pushing the buggy for a sweet frail ole bird back to her car. he was asking her questions, making eye contact and appeared genuinely interested in what she had to share with him. he wasn't too busy while they walked to her trunk.

sometimes small town living is more beautiful than anything else...


maemae inspired me to get back in the blogging game.
i have a lot to say.
i need to turn off my tv and read and write more.
lindsay r inspires me too...

so i start, tonight, after my date.
not with a guy.
girls night out date.