"Those Damn Dawson's River Kids..."

Okay, a somewhat vulgar title, but come on, great 10 Things I Hate About You quote! And seeing as I intend to talk about Dawson's Creek I found it only fitting. Now I know some of you know of my love of The Creek, as I so affectionately refer to it, and judge my poor choice in television watching, but I still maintain that everyone is allowed their own guilty pleasure and this just happens to be mine. There is something about teenage angst and contrived witty repartee that really just make me quite happy and content. I also think that there's a bit of nostalgia attached to the show seeing as I started to watch it the first year Herb and I were married, which is actually appropriate because that leads me to the real point of this blog.

Today I watched my all-time favorite episode of The Creek while working out. This episode is all about nostalgia and helping friends out in a jam. In "A Weekend in the Country" the assorted characters come together to spend a weekend at Joey's families' newly opened Bed and Breakfast to help impress a critic. Sounds cheesy, yes, but in the scenes to follow, they all end up gathering around the fire sharing smells which trigger wonderful memories for them. This scene alone is wonderful as each person shares their most powerful smells and memories. My favorites though are Gram's tale of sitting by the fire every night for 46 years with her husband reading aloud to her; she explains that every night he would fall asleep by the fire and she would watch him sleep, knowing that she truly loved him. The other story that hits a chord is when Joey shares that bacon sizzling reminds her of her mother and her mother's dream of opening a B&B. If you are a Creek fan, you know Joey lost her mom to cancer when she was young. Ah, yes, sappy content, but it gets better...

My favorite scene echoes with the sound of Joni Mitchell's "Both Sides Now" (a fabulous song for powerful movie and TV moments a la Love Actually) as Pacey sits by the fire watching Joey sleep. His actions echo Grams' words about her husband and we know in dramatic irony that Pacey truly loves Joey. I know it's totally intended to tug on my heart strings, but it does in a powerful way I can't explain. After watching this episode I just feel more optimistic about life. I don't know if it's the simplistic view of what love is or if it's the warm feeling of cuddling next to the fire sharing stories, but this episode makes me feel at home, in the safe, warm kind of way.

(By the way, my favorite memories triggered by smell come from the smell of Ice Plant climbing the hills in Palos Verdes, CA. The moment this smell enters my nostrils I'm in the comfort of my grandparent's home surrounded by family and love. There's nothing like that smell!)

So I start my day off with a little more comfort, an echo of hope in my heart. Even if it is silly, I think it is important to take comfort and peace where they come. Embrace those moments of hope, no matter how minor, for they are intended to lift our hearts.

What kind of sandwich are YOU?

Just thought I'd spice up the blog with an interactive session! Go to the hyperlink below, answer the questions, then post your type of sandwich and description in the comments section.
Here are my results:

You Are a Turkey Sandwich

Conservative and a bit shy, you tend to stick with what you know and trust. You are very introverted, and you prefer to blend in whenever possible. Though you may be hard to know well, anyone who does know you considers you a true friend. Your best friend: The Ham Sandwich Your mortal enemy: The Tuna Fish Sandwich

What Kind of Sandwich Are You?

The F Word

So being home all week and weekend didn't help my writing productivity seeing as I've wanted to write this particular blog since last Sunday. But I've decided to attempt it anyway, even though the idea isn't as fresh in my mind. So here goes...

I am not usually a fan of the F word. I find it vulgar, unoriginal and generally offensive. Of all the swear words, it makes my skin crawl and I feel a strong aversion to the actual meaning of the word. But there are times, yes there are times, when I feel that it might be the only word to express my emotions, and last Sunday was one of those times.

It started as a normal Katie day. If you've spent any time with me you know that I am a klutz to match all klutzes. Herb is often afraid of my love of cooking for fear that I might cut off a finger or burn the nerves in my hand off. So in true Katie style, I'm standing in my parents shower (we were in Phoenix for D-backs games) grabbing the towel to dry off when the world goes to pieces...well really just the towel rack. As I grabbed the towel, the rack completely came apart sending the rod sailing through the air to land vertically on the top of my foot. So now I'm standing there naked, on one foot crying out in pain. My foot swelled and there's still a gorgeous bruise there 7 days later. I thought that this was bad enough, but I refrained from using the four letter F expletive. It just didn't seem appropriate at that moment in time (perhaps because I am developing some sort of parental filter, perhaps).

(And here I make an addendum, I would just like to say in my defense that while I'm accident prone, in this particular situation it was wholly not my fault that the rod came apart at that moment. In this particular case, some sort of cosmic force was out to impale me with bathroom fixtures and I was not seeking this injury of my own accord. Now that I've defended myself, I will present instance two where I was definitely responsible for my own fate.)

Sunday night, Herb and I found ourselves home round about 7 o'clock after a gruelling D-backs loss. I dropped Herb and our worldly goods off at the house and hopped back in the car to head for the grocery store. As I was chatting with Melinda on the phone, I reached in to grab a jar of tomato sauce from the shelf and as I pulled my hand away, low and behold my finger scraped across the top of the shelf. I had effectively ripped open the knuckle on my pointer finger and now I was bleeding everywhere. I went to first aid at the front of the store where I bled all over the counter and finally managed to get a band-aid around my finger. I hadn't eaten in 6 hours so I was beginning to feel a little light headed, but hey, I'm me, and I went back and finished my grocery shopping. It was at this moment, as my finger was throbbing, my foot was throbbing, and I felt like I was going to vomit that I felt the F word to be appropriate. I could find no other word to truly express my frustration and pain and anger at my predicament.

It didn't sound very ladylike and it wasn't very couth, but it was all I could conjure in that moment of weakness. I will continue to dissuade others from using this vulgar term as an unoriginal way to speak (you know the types, the types who want to use it as every part of speech because they think it makes them sound gangster, or whatever). But I will not begrudge those who need to use it as I did, in a moment of frailty when there are just no more words available to your brain. In that very rare case, I say, use that vulgar word and it will fit in just that moment and that moment only. And honestly, it feels pretty good for letting out all of those frustrations, but I can't imagine it feels that good all the time. I think the guilt would get to me...I am a role model for language and for moral behavior in general, and that word just lacks imagination. I want my words to have power, positive power, and the F word just falls short.

Maintenance

For very valid and worthwhile reasons I have been in Phoenix for the last three weekends. First to comfort my sister, second to see Tim and Faith and this weekend we have had the chance to go to two D-backs games with old friends (Aaron Mertz) and new (some friends from work). What great opportunities for fun! But at the same time I am growing weary. There is something about not being in my house on the weekends and not being in my house during the week that causes a great deal of stress. I've decided what is lacking is maintenance.

The things that we do on a day to day basis that allow us to maintain our lives are super important, but we don't really realize their importance until we don't have the time to do those things anymore. For example, every Saturday I like to take the bills that have come throughout the week and file them away. Because I haven't seen my house on a Saturday recently my basket full of bills is overflowing. I haven't been able to upkeep my house in the manner which I've come accustomed. Not that my house would be perfect or clean, but I might be able to see the pattern on my tablecloth.

I also haven't been able to maintain my sleep pattern. If you know anything about me, you know I love sleep. In fact, I consider it one of my greatest joys to climb into bed every night, I can't stay awake past midnight to save my life, and if I don't get enough sleep I don't cope with everyday life very well. Usually I aim for eight hours on a week night and then I catch up on the weekends, but as of late I haven't had my catch up hours and my ability to cope is waning. So it's time to get back onto a sleep maintenance schedule, tending to my body (and thereby my soul) to help me deal better with everyday life.

School Katie has suffered as well. I like to do some upkeep activities on the weekends, enter in spare grades, make sure I have lesson pieces assembled, and keep up with my readings for class. As a result of being absent from my apartment, I have had hectic weeks trying to catch up on these maintenance activities while also trying to accomplish my weekly tasks as well. I need some time to maintain my school life so as to keep my sanity during the work week.

But I think the hardest for me to not maintain is my relationship with Herb. I try to use the weekends to recharge and reconnect with him. We like to spend Saturday mornings relaxing and connecting, and we haven't had that opportunity. We've also been trying to play catch up during the week, but with Herb's return to school it's going to be more challenging. So that increases the importance of maintenance in our relationship.

All of this to say, it's time to stay home for a while (at least for a weekend) and work on maintaining my life. It's time to get ahead instead of play catch up. And maybe, just maybe it'll give me space to blog more. (Sorry for slacking.) Who would've known that maintenance was so important? Without it the structure begins to deteriorate and fall apart, but with it the structure continues to stand strong. So here's to maintaining and standing strong.

Faith and Tim

We're on a first name basis now that I stood four feet away from them Friday night at their concert! That's right, my amazing Mom bought my sister 6th row tickets to the show and my awesome sister invited me to come along! I happen to think that Kevyn is the only person in the world I could have truly, truly enjoyed the show with (and probably my mom) because we have such a deep love for these two performers. I think Kevyn is a bigger Tim fan, and I'm the bigger Faith fan, but we both love them both. And more than loving their performance and their music, we love the two of them as a couple. I'm sure this isn't a rare thing amongst country fans, but their deep affection for each other as evidenced in their music and on stage are just inspiring.



It's hard to explain the most amazing parts of this whole evening because it all was priceless, but I'll give it a shot. Both Faith and Tim, but especially Faith, are the "most beautiful people you'll ever see up close" (to quote Never Been Kissed). Faith's beauty just resonates from her voice (still gives me goosebumps to think about), to her graceful movements about the stage, to her tender way with the fans. I cried when she squatted down to speak with a little girl who had made her a picture and in response Faith took off her scarf and placed it around the little girl's neck. Such goodness of heart! To my great joy she sang "Lucky One" while on our spoke of the stage! (The stage has four spokes, and we could see three of them--the fourth was beyond our sight--but the one closest to us allowed us to be inches away from touching Faith's hand! In fact I took a rather ungraceful fall in attempts of touching her hand. Oh well, that is truly the Katie way of doing things.)






Tim is one of the sexiest men I have seen live and in person. Not only is he gorgeous to look at (let's be honest, what man in a cowboy hat with a guitar isn't?) but his voice just seals the deal. We were so close we could see all three of his tattoos (a cross, Faith's name and a Jesus fish) and his belt chain, which had the initials of Faith and his three daughters. Talk about intimacy! Tim is an amazing performer because he gets the crowd all fired up. We were a very lively crowd and as a result he did "The Ride" version of "Real Good Man", which isn't an every night occurrence. And of course I completely teared up when he sang "Lay Me Down". Those weren't the only tears; Tim, like Faith, has a great heart, and he serenaded an older woman sitting near the stage. As she sat mesmerized by his attention and gorgeous voice, he gave her a kiss on the cheek. What a once in a lifetime experience! On our side of the stage Tim sang "She's My Kind of Rain", one of my favorites! Ah, I again have goosebumps.











But I think the highlights came whenever they sang together. "It's Your Love" was my favorite, but they opened with their own version of "Chasing Cars" that was awesome! "Angry All the Time" is one of my favorite songs, so them singing that together was amazing. But the most sensual moment of the concert was when they rose up out of the stage on chairs facing one another. Sharing a mic they sang "I Need You". While Tim sang, Faith looked lovingly into his face. While Faith sang, Tim leaned his head onto her shoulder. And as Faith held out the last note for over a minute the tension mounted between the two, and as the note faded away they shared a passionate and fiery kiss! So hot! I've decided that the best way to a steamy marriage is to sing duets together!







So thank you Kevyn and thank you Mom for this once in a lifetime experience full of goosebumps, tears and singing at the top of my lungs! I will never forget it as long as I live!

Essays, Done!

I was a bit worried about my stack of 110 essays when I hopped in the car to spend the weekend with my sister. But my philosophy this year (or the one I'm trying desperately to adhere to) is that God will provide the time I need to get things done and the rest I need to care for my body. So although I worried, I hopped in the car and let it go.

Worry crept back Monday night as I sat down to grade and only got through 30 essays. How was I ever going to finish the rest of the stack by Thursday? I have so many other things scheduled in my week, things I'm not willing to give up (Bible study with Lori and Young Marrieds Bible study, dinner with Jon and Kirsten who just moved back to town, phone chat with Lindsay), but all of these essays...

Yesterday I became the essay grader wonder woman! With uncanny speed I read through 80 essays yesterday and still managed to get to bed on time. This must be God! He supplied for my need. He knew my schedule; He knew that He had important places for me to be and relationships to build on this week and He took care of my worry. He also was aware of my new philosophy and my propensity to give up if I don't see results, and He showed me results.

God so intimately knows my heart and needs. He is well aware of my schedule and what needs to be done, and He will take care of it if I put my faith in Him. So I'm elated to say that my essays are done and God has cleared my schedule for more important things, like my relationships with people. God so totally rocks, dude! (If you missed the Disneyland reference there, you need to come on our next trip! I'm sure it's on the horizon!)