Happy Turkey Day to Me!!!

It's official...I'm going back to school! I somehow slipped past the DTS board and received my acceptance letter today! Classes begin January 15th...go ahead and start praying for me now!
Woo hoo!!!

How to Approach the Subject of a Blind Date

This is the hilariously sneaky email my mom sent to me yesterday. At first I thought it was one of those goofy forwards, until I realized she actually made this up out of her head and was seriously trying to set me up! It was just too good not to put on the blog!
*Also, names have been changed to protect the innocent


M.O.S.D., Inc (Mothers of Single Daughters, Inc) is a non-profit organization devoted to being on the lookout for potential (cute) suitors. Following is an anonymous survey we request you (heretofore un-named daughter) fill out.

1.If heretofore un-named mother were to encounter a potential suitor for heretofore un-named daughter, would said party choose A, B, or C:
A.I am not even slightly interested - mind your own business.
B.I am slightly interested - tell me more.
C.I don't care if he's a monkey, I'll date him. (heretofore un-named mother is pretty sure this choice would not even be close!)

2.If heretofore un-named daughter chose B, read on.

3.Heretofore un-named mother has friend (Bobby Joe's* nephew) to be described as follows:
-lives in Coppell (very close to heretofore daughter's work place - possible lunch encounter comes to mind?)
- heretofore mother has seen said nephew and...very cute!
- said nephew's profession is believed to be advertising (currently interviewing w/Fox News or something to that affect)
- said nephew comes from a Christian family and attends church
- according to all reports, said nephew has an excellent sense of humor
- said nephew is not dating anyone seriously at the moment and according to the secondary heretofore un-named mother belonging to M.O.S.D., Inc, is usually open to (oh, no...the dreaded words...) a BLIND DATE! Ahhhh!

M.O.S.D., Inc is not responsible for any happy ever afters or dates from h--- connected with this survey. Thank you for considering our survey.

You Are Mexican Food

You Are Mexican Food

Spicy yet dependable. You pull punches, but people still love you.

What Kind of Food Are You?

I'm not really sure how I feel about this.
See what kind of food you are! www.blogthings.com/whatkindoffoodareyouquiz/

Christmas...seriously?

I was in Garden Ridge THREE weeks ago, and they were already playing nonstop Christmas music. A mere 2 days after Halloween, I heard a commercial on KLTY saying that this time last year was when they started playing nonstop Christmas music on their station.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for having the Christmas spirit all year long and all that, but the day after Halloween, seriously? Or if you work at Garden Ridge, three weeks before Halloween??? I do NOT remember things starting so early this time last year.

Whatever happened to the weekend after Thanksgiving being the official put-up-your-christmas-tree date? I seem to remember a time when you were publicly scorned if you had christmas lights on your house earlier than Thanksgiving. And you know what people, that's the way it should be! If you are putting up your Christmas decorations and calling KLTY to tell them to start playing Christmas music, stop it right now! You don't understand the potential Christmas damage you could cause. You think it's great now...but when you're throwing up 2 weeks before Christmas because you are so cotton-picking tired of hearing Bing Crosby sing about the White Christmas that never actually appears in Dallas, Texas, you'll be sorry. Or when you realize your October electricity bill is through the roof not because of your heating bill but because of the christmas lights, you will be ready to take them down before Thanksgiving even comes around. Or when you gain your holiday weight in early November, you’re gonna be up a creek come Turkey Day.

See my point, people? There is a reason we wait until after Thanksgiving. At this rate, this time next year kids will be hearing non-stop Christmas music in August on the bus to their first day of school! And then the year after that, in May while they're taking their finals! And then the year after that, the colors of Valentines Day will morph from pink and white to red and green. Five years from now we won't even bother taking our decorations down because New Years Day will be when it’s time to put them back up again. Then we will have found ourselves living in a saccharine-soaked, willi-wonka, lollipop life where it’s Christmas every day and let me tell you something people, there is no place for negative blogging in days like those.

What is "the fear of stupid things"?

Sometimes I'm brushing my teeth, and I think about when one day, I'll be married, and what if I don't want my husband to see me brushing my teeth with toothpaste foam all over my mouth?
Or what if I talk in my sleep and he hears me...or what if I snore!
Or what if I'm tired of being the insect warrior and just trap the spiders under a cup until he comes home...would he mind??

Married life seems so complicated.

Did you know...?

The fear of staying single is called Anuptaphobia.
Coulrophobia is the fear of clowns.
Necrophobia is the fear of death.
Homilophobia is the fear of sermons.
Panophobia is the fear of everything.

The fear of long words is Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia.

I kid you not.

Adventures in Housesitting, Day 7

Another little life lesson I've learned from housesitting...

Just because the dog barks at 1am does not mean there is a rapist at the door.
Sometimes it's a Q-tip.

Scorpion Watch 2006

For those of you keeping track, it's drawing near the end of week 1 and the score is Crys 1, Scorpions 0.

Also, a few scorpion afterthoughts:
1. Brown-colored scorpions blend in very well on hardwood floors.
2. Never walk barefoot during a scorpion invasion because of #1.
3. In life, never take the cockroaches for granted, or else God will give you scorpions. He has a funny sense of humor that way.
4. A fully stocked refrigerator and free internet, direct tv, and lets face it...free electricity...make a few scorpions seem not so bad after all.

Goodbye Cockroaches, Hello...

So I'm housesitting my parents place for the next two weeks. I came over last Friday so my mom could show me where the dog food and extra pillows are kept. She tells me everything I need to know in order to keep their house from burning down while they are gone. And at the end, she adds "oh yeah, and one more thing. Not to creep you out, but we have...scorpions. I haven't seen any in a long time, but I just wanted to let you know." So basically, I've traded my apartment full of cockroaches for a house full of scorpions. I haven't quite decided which I prefer yet. One the one hand, the cockroaches are bigger, and more disgusting. I get a shiver just thinking about them. BLEH. But on the other hand...I'd prefer not to have any organism in my house that the Crocodile Hunter may have once pursued...and avoided.

So I think to myself...oh well. It is what is it. So I moved in on Sunday to be greeted with a long list of reminders so I am sure not to forget things like how many flakes go in the fishbowl.
As I continue through the house, I keep finding little post-it notes everywhere...like one on the dishwasher that instructs me which buttons to push...and one on the space on the counter where the mail should go...
Then I find a little plastic baggie...I read the post it attached that says "not to freak you out, but here's what they look like..." and in the baggie...yep, you guessed it...was a dead scorpion!!!! I'm just wondering if anyone else's mom stores dead venomous insects to show their kids?
Of course then I realize...she doesn't either. Which means she had to have found it between Friday when I was there with her, and Sunday when they left...which means her comforting "I haven't seen any in a long time" statement is now null and void.

So if I'm late for work anytime over the next two weeks, it's because I'm protecting the house from the deadly scorpions that are descending on it.
On one hand, I hope I don't see any. But on the other hand, I almost want to find one and put it in plastic baggie, and when I leave I can put a post-it on it saying "here's another one for your collection..."

My Brush with the Law

Let me set the stage for you...it's Monday night, 9:30pm. My girlfriends from our accountability group left my house at 9. I change into my pjs...shorts and a tshirt...pile my hair on top of my head, and pull out my guitar for a few minutes of out-of-tune-plunking before bed.

Then...a big knock on my front door. Odd, I think...no one usually comes knocking this time of night. I look out the peephole and see nothing. Now I wouldn't normally open the door this late at night because I’ve read the emails that flood my inbox about women who live alone and open the door to a serial killer. But since the girls just left, I wonder if it’s one of them and they accidentally left something at my house, so I open the door.

To my surprise, a cop steps around the corner! And by cop, I don't mean your average, run of the mill policeman. I mean a very big black man with the words "fugitive patrol" embroidered on his uniform. I suddenly find myself very aware of the fact that I did not shave my legs that day (why that’s the first thing I think of, I do not know).

So the giant fugitive patrol man says he's looking for “Gary”, I say I think he has the wrong apartment. He holds up a picture of some guy I've never seen before and I tell him there's no one here by that name.

Then he tells me that “Gary” is a felon, and that giant man has a search warrant and needs to come in. By then every piece of spam email I've ever gotten about men impersonating cops in order to get in women’s house, stop them at gas stations, or pull them over to the side of the road only to take advantage of them suddenly flood my brain. Cue adreneline rush! Uh, no, you can't come in, I say to the giant black man standing at my door. He gets a little irritated and reminds me that he has a search warrant and because this is a felony matter, he doesn't need to stand here and discuss it with me, and as a matter of fact had I not answered the door, he would have kicked it in.

So I explain to him that I will be happy to let him in except that I live alone and I need to know he is a real cop…I think, if he’s a real cop, he would understand this…and I ask if he has a partner so it’s not just me and some strange man alone in my house? In response he tells me, in a way that is subtly meant to inspire fear, that his partner is at my back door. I think to myself, ahh!! There are TWO rapists and they’ve got me surrounded!!! I eye his ginormous muscles, I think to myself that yes, I am in fact superwoman, but I’m pretty sure I can’t take him. However, he has yet to assure me that he is a real officer and not Joe-Rapist off the street.

About this time, officer #2 circles around my apartment to join giant man #1 at the front door, I assume to find out why he hasn’t by this time kicked the door in, guns waving and bullets flying. I repeat why I haven’t let the giant man in, and officer #2 pulls out 2 government IDs along with his badge. I gladly let them in. I wonder, was that so hard??

Officer #1 proceeds to search my house looking for “Gary”, while officer #2 explains all the fabulously wonderful things this Gary had done and why they are looking for him, and apparently he lived in my apartment before I did. By then both officers were very nice and even said they appreciate women’s concern like mine, even though it can get in the way sometimes.

Later that night as I replay the scene in my head, I wondered what would have happened had I not answered the door?? Here I am, a frail and meek little woman, sitting in my pajamas, minding my own business, when giant black man claiming to be a cop breaks my door down!!! I would probably scream, jump to my feet and grab my cell phone, rush to my room and lock my door. As I frantically call 911 and grab the mace off my nightstand, officer #2 would run around to my bedroom window, while giant officer #1 would be working on breaking my bedroom door down because they still assume “Gary” lives here and I am either harboring a fugitive or trying to escape thru the window. Then, hearing the commotion, officer #2 would break thru my window with a Chuck-Norris type karate kick and roll onto my bedroom floor. Giant officer #1 would be through the door by now, and both would tackle me. They would be caught off guard with what a worthy adversary I am and I would definitely maim both of them…but they would win in the end (dude…you should have SEEN his muscles…). They would handcuff me and search the rest of my house for “Gary”, before finally realizing there is in fact no “Gary” here at all. Then they would be embarrassed that they broke 2 doors and a window, attacked an innocent woman, and my cat probably would have run away through the broken door, when all they had to do was check with the apartment complex the day before to see that “Gary” had moved out 6 months ago.

And I would sit there handcuffed, still embarrassed that I didn’t shave my legs that day. Oh…the things I worry about…

Suggestions?

Since February, I have totally changed my lifestyle and eaten healthier and started exercising. This is not because I have some skewed self-image problem and think I am fat and need to lose weight, as most people think whenever a girl says she wants to start working out. I truly want, and need, to live a healthier lifestyle. Weight loss is simply an added bonus. And so far I’m doing pretty good. There’s still plenty of room for improvement, but I can’t begin tell you what a huge difference I’ve seen between February and today. And not just in body shape, but I just FEEL better. I sleep better. I have more energy. It’s greatness.

But here’s the problem I’ve run into and maybe someone out there will have some good advice. I’ve tried to start incorporating running into my cardio workouts, and I’m finding that instead of dropping body fat, I tend to be bulking up my lower body instead. (now don’t get onto me about body fat…like I said, I have no illusions of being overweight or needing to lose weight, but I have no illusions of athleticism either!) After talking to some other women, I’m finding a popular opinion about running…that some people can run and the weight just falls off them, but other people can run and they suddenly become the Incredible Hulk. I’m just wondering why this is. Maybe I have too much protein in my diet? Maybe some particular body types, like mine, just need a different kind of cardio workout, in which case, does anyone have any suggestions? Or maybe this is just God’s way of turning me into Supergirl, because my undiscovered calling is to go Chuck Norris on all bad guys and sexual predators lurking in parking lots and alleyways?

All thoughts and comments welcome.

When you need a smile...

Because sometimes you forget that yes, it could indeed be worse...

As they say in the theatre world...

Well, my season as a small group Hometeam leader has come and gone…last Sunday, after 2 years (exactly!) of being a hometeam leader, I stepped down from my position. It’s kinda weird. I keep thinking things like “oh, I have to be sure to write this in the weekly email” or “I better get with Ross to see when our next planning meeting is” or “we should use that example for the next lesson”…except I don’t have to do those things anymore. And that’s how my brain has always worked…hometeam has always been so close to my heart that it’s never very far from my mind. I could be driving down the road and suddenly think of something I need to do for the hometeam, or be in the middle of work and suddenly have some great idea for the next lesson. Ross knows all about this, because when those random thoughts hit me, guess who gets the first phone call!

I know there are like 3 people who read this blog, but I want to give a shout out to the ever-evolving hometeam that has held such a huge part of my heart for the last 2 years. First of all to Erick…had he not been a hometeam leader himself, and such a selfless servant-hearted one at that, I never would have gotten plugged in to hometeam, to Fellowship Church, and to Christ. He taught me everything I needed to know about becoming a Christ-follower to being a baby Christian to growing up to a woman of God. And to Matt, who taught me what it meant to encourage spiritual leadership, rather than trying to do it all myself! To Amanda, who reminds me everyday what it means to have a childlike faith, and to Brad, who can’t help but instill his contagious hunger and passion for the Lord in everyone he meets. To Jami, who inspires other with her perseverance and persistence thru all obstacles, and to David who always reminded me to laugh. And finally to Ross, my most recent co-leader, and to whom I leave all of hometeam in his ever-capable hands. Of all the leaders I have teamed up with, Ross probably saw me at my worst (well, with the exception of Erick, who saw the pre-Christ Crys!). Ross saw me through those last few months of hometeam…when I was so tired that the last thing I wanted to do was meet up with him to plan the next lesson, and he energized me. When I felt defeated because only a few people showed up to that week’s meeting, and he pointed out all the awesome things I had done. When I just couldn’t figure out God’s will for my role in hometeam, and he was the prayer warrior above all warriors. And when I said I was leaving, he was supportive even though he didn’t like it.

And to everyone else who I didn’t lead with, but rather attempted to lead, either successfully or not, you as well have touched my life. Last Sunday people like Ross and Matt told me how much they learned from me or were influenced by me, but I have to say that anything I may have done to inspire people, the hometeam has given back to me ten-fold. My life has been changed and is improved because of the people I met there. If you go to Fellowship Church and you are reading this blog and not in a hometeam, get in one NOW! (which is unlikely because the 3 people that read this blog are all in my hometeam) My life would never have the abundant blessings of God that it has now without the influence of hometeam, and I am so sad that I am no longer going to be leading anymore, but I know it is of God and because of that his peace surrounds me.

So as my hometeam leader season comes to a close, there’s only one thing left to say…

Aaaaand…scene.

WHAT I love...

Last year me and some friends took a road trip to New York. To pass the time, we made up a game where we all say things we love starting with every letter of the alphabet. So thus begins the game of ‘what I love…’ (not to be confused with the post ‘why I love…’)

A- Aaah…I already can’t think of something for A. We’re off to a good start.
B- Broadway Shows…specifically Dirty Rotten Scoundrels and Les Mis.
C- Crys! You say conceit, I say healthy self-image. So there.
D- Duncan! I would say Duncan is my cat, but in reality, I am his human.
E- Emperor’s New Groove, one of the best movies ever! Llamaface!!!!
F- Fried stuff. Chicken. Okra. Mushrooms. Pickles. Who needs moderation?
G- Gum. Less because I love it, more because I need it. Yes, oral fixations abound.
H- Hugs. And real ones, not those sissy side ones.
I- Ice Cream!! Perhaps my biggest vice. Ben and Jerry’s Neopolitan Dynamite. Or Baskin Robbins Peanut Butter and Chocolate.
J- Jesus! (You didn’t think I was going to leave out the Sunday School answer, did you?)
K- Kelly Clarkson. I don’t follow a lot of music but she’s one of my faves. And she’s from Texas so she’s already cooler than most.
L- Laughing. It’s just fun. And you burn calories doing it.
M- Mapquest. Seriously, how did we ever get anywhere before it existed?
N- New York City…the place I would live if it weren’t in Texas
O- Organization. And all the cool bins and containers, notebooks, and labelmakers that go with it. And yes, I am an office supply dork. Show me a desktop organizer and I’ll show you the many wonderous categories of the pen.
P- Playing guitar. I’m currently taking applications for groupies.
Q- Quiet time with God every morning. With my cup of coffee on the patio. Greatness.
R- Red Robin. Mmmmm.
S- Starbucks. Or really, coffee in general.
T- Texas! I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.
U- Underwear. It’s very important people. You shouldn’t leave home without it.
V- Very good workouts. Yes, that counts for V. As much as I hate to say it, I like working out. (but running sucks)
W-Wheat Thins. I will OD on those things.
X- X-Men. Ok I’ve never seen the movie, but I would make a killer superhero, so I figure I would like it if I saw it. (Hey…you think of something you love that begins with x!)
Y- Ok I don’t have anything for Y. Or Z. I was stretching with X. But I’m the only one playing the ‘what I love’ game so I still win. The end.

Why I love...The Web Office!

Welcome to the latest installment of “why I love…” and today I love the web office! Boy…that web office is really cool. I mean, it has windows and Ikea furniture. And you never have to turn the fluorescent lights on, and the walls are really white.

Ok, what I really love are the guys IN the web office. Why? Because it was there that I was first welcomed into the Fellowship family with sarcasm and mockery…I mean brotherly love and affection. It was there that I learned that to be really important at Fellowship Church, you had to have TWO computer monitors, eat Quiznos like it was going out of business, and whoever dies with the most water bottle caps wins. I also learned all about Bradittude, which I would explain if I thought you could handle it, but you can’t.
I also love them because I can come and visit them any time I want and they are always happy to see me! At least, they pretend to be. I think they are really just hoping for cookies. Or an invite to lunch.
Brian is a super cool boss because he lets them print out giant posters of him and tape it to the door. He’s also really smart and talented and has been published in the wall street journal. We’ve discussed the intelligence of his blog and how much more smarter it is than mine…I would insert a link to it here except I’m not that smarrt.
Brad is also super cool because he does things like curling (the human-sized shuffle board thing they do in the Olympics) and swim to Alcatraz in shark-infested waters. I don’t know anybody who can say that. He also leads a hometeam, and hometeam leaders in and of themselves are cool.
Andy seems pretty super cool but I gotta say I don’t know him very well since I got booted out of the office when he showed up so he could have a desk (seriously people, priorities). But I do know that he’s always at the tone & tighten classes at lunch so he can probably beat up Chuck Norris.
And of course there’s Jeph, who even if you don’t know him, you already know he’s super cool because he spells his name with a PH. People with alternative and confusing spellings of their names are always cool. Jeph also has the best sense of humor out of anyone I know, and he says it’s pronounced “porsch” instead of “porsch-A”. Try it next time you see him. He likes it, I swear.

So, web office, that is why I love you. Never change your unique blend of witty, jovial, cynical, clever, chuck-norris kicking, weird name spelling, smart blog typing, bradittuding fun because you guys are great!

Oh yeah…and I like bread.

Florida is stealing my friends.

Stupid Florida. It steals all my friends. First the Bradquester and now Ryan King and who knows who else around here will be boxed up and shipped off to Florida.

Ok don’t get me wrong, I love the fact that we have a new church in Miami, it’s amazing in ways I can’t even fathom. And so stinking exciting. I love it. Every minute of it.

But Florida is not allowed to steal any more of my friends. None. No more. That’s it. El Fine.

Dinner for One

How to Eat Alone
by Daniel Halpern

While it’s still light out set the table for one: a red linen tablecloth, one white plate, a bowl for the salad and the proper silverware. Take out a three-pound leg of lamb, rub it with salt, pepper and cumin, then push in two cloves of garlic splinters. Place it in a 325-degree oven and set the timer for an hour. Put freshly cut vegetables into a pot with some herbs and the crudest olive oil you can find. Heat on low flame. Clean the salad. Be sure the dressing is made with fresh dill, mustard and the juice of hard lemons.
Open a bottle of good late harvest zinfandel and let it breathe on the table. Pour yourself a glass of cold California chardonnay and go to your study and read. As the story unfolds you will smell the lamb and the vegetables. This is the best part of the evening: the food cooking, the armchair, the book and bright flavor of the chilled wine. When the timer goes off, toss the salad and prepare the vegetables and the lamb. Bring them out to the table. Light the candles and pour the red wine into your glass. Before you begin to eat, raise your glass in honor of yourself.
The company is the best you’ll ever have.

This piece of prose I discovered in college and always enjoyed what it had to say. This week my one evening off was on Tuesday night, and as I stared blankly into my refrigerator wondering what to eat, this piece popped into my head. So I turned off the tv and turned on my soundtrack to “The Piano” and cooked up a real dinner...there wasn’t even anything that got put in the microwave! I pulled out the pretty silverware and lit some candles and set the table as if someone important were visiting. When I sat down with my food, just looking at the way it all was set and how nice it looked made me peaceful already. I enjoyed the stillness and quiet and totally loved it. Ok, so maybe the chicken wasn’t exactly 4-star restaurant quality and there was 2% milk in my wine glass, but it was still greatness. And I realized that so often we are always so concerned about not offending others, or how everyone else feels, and if we’re treating our neighbors as ourselves. Which is all well and good. But sometimes you have to take a step back and treat yourself as others would treat you. A good quote to go along with this… “if you had a friend that talked to you the way you talked to yourself, would you continue to hang out with that person?”

I would challenge everyone I know...especially all the single ones...not only to treat others the way they'd want to be treated, but also to treat yourself how you want others to treat you! Because whether you realize it or not, you're teaching them how to do it right now. And why wait to get married before somebody starts treating you right??

Ed says "Say Tech-NO!"

Oh what a terrible blogger I am. It seems that since I have moved out of my parent’s house that was a wireless hotspot of internet activity allowing me to blog to my heart’s content, into my new, internet-free zone that I call my apartment, it sure is a lot harder to keep the blog updated!!

But I have a good excuse…you see, a few months ago when Lisa Welchel came to speak at Fellowship, she told a story about how she tried to buy her Mickey Mouse Club ears off Ebay, and she was willing to pay up to $500 for them. When she didn’t end up winning, she felt convicted to donate the same $500 to a church or charity, hearing God’s voice saying to her “if you are willing to give $500 to Mikey Mouse ears, then you are willing to give $500 to my kingdom…”. Well that comment really spoke to me and in the midst of making Town and Country giving commitments, God got my attention, albeit on a somewhat smaller level…

As I looked at my new budget which included the new apartment and all the bills that go with it along with a new T&C line item, I thought about my cable and internet bill and heard a small voice in my head that said “if you are willing to give for cable and internet, you are willing to give to Town and Country…”. So I made the decision not to get cable or internet in my new apartment and add that amount to my monthly Town and Country offering. This meant no news reports while I eat breakfast, no Whose Line is it Anyway while I work out, and no daily Friends before I go to bed. And no internet with which to blog. And while every month brings a temptation to use some of that T&C money to bring the internet back into my life, I often don’t even miss most of that stuff if I'm totally honest. Because now when I eat breakfast in the morning ,I can sit in peace and quiet before facing the noise that is the day, and when I work out at night I can let my mind process everything from the work day, and when I miss Friends…well I can pop in a DVD of any one episode from all of my 10 seasons (you didn’t REALLY think I could give up Friends completely, did you?). But the internet is a little trickier…it’s definitely hard to keep the blog up. And it’s hard to resist the urge to come in to work on the weekends when previously I could just check up on things from my computer at home.

But I know that giving up a few tv shows and having a slightly smaller blog are small potatoes compared to listening to the tiny voice in my head that is the Lord’s.

And if you are sad that the blog seems lonely and collecting cobwebs these days...well it’s all Lisa Welchel’s fault! BUT…if you would like to make a donation to the “Save Crys’s Blog Foundation”, I’ll be having Brian Bailey install way to help you donate online to this noble cause…

O Blogger, Where Art Thou? or S'more Better

May17th??? I can’t believe that was my last post. Oh, the shameful blogger that I am. Well, to keep you posted on the life and times of Crys, I went camping this past weekend and had a blast. And in all my camping experiences, the most valuable lessons learned always seem to revolve around the s’more. So should you ever go camping, remember these things…

*Toasting marshmallows is good. Toasting twinkies is bad.

*Always eat dessert first in case of rapture. (ok, this is just a good rule to live by in general). But when camping…if you toast your marshmallows first, THEN use the same stick to cook your hotdogs, you will have a yummy marshmallow-flavored hot dog.

*Do not be deceived by the raccoon who wants a bite of your marshmallow. This is a ruse, do not fall for it. Unless you have enough marshmallows for all the tiny woodland creatures of the forest.

*Should a fly find himself trapped in your bag of marshmallows, do not try to get him out by pounding your fist on the side of the bag. This will only result in the undesirable smashmallow/fly combination.

*Always remember to store the chocolate bars in the cooler…especially when camping in Texas…in June. However, should you forget, it is perfectly acceptable to soak up the melted chocolate with your toasted marshmallow.

*Never try to eat the toasted mallow off the metal stick you just cooked it with.

*Should you drop you mallow on the ground, the 5-second rule does not apply.

*Always splurge on the mallows when camping. Do you realize there are only 90 calories in 4 mallows??? 4!!!

*To torch or not to torch…that is the question. Whether tis nobler to patiently brown your mallow, or take arms against a sea of fire, and by opposing, blacken thy mallow…

Finally, the most important thing I’ve ever learned on a camping trip, is how to IMPROVE the s’more. They said it couldn’t be done. I call it the S'more Better. But I warn you…the secrets I am about to share are not for the faint of heart…

To make your S’more Better…Use your toasting stick to bore a small hole thru the middle of the mallow. Insert the chocolate into the hole, then proceed to toast as usual. Warning…be sure not to burn the chocolate! If you are like me and you prefer your mallows flaming pieces of carbon, this is tricker...but it can be done! However if you are more patient and do not believe in torching your mallow, this will be easier. Once the mallow is toasted, and the chocolate is all melty and gooey, proceed to mash onto the graham cracker and consume as usual. (uh...graham cracker optional)

Why I Love...My Mom!

Welcome to the next installment of ‘Why I Love…”, and today is Why I Love My Mom! My mom is great and here’s why!! (So it’s a few days past mother’s day…something tells me my mom will still enjoy this just as much!)

When I was 1, she sacrificed sleep and sanity just because I whined.

When I was 2, she tolerated endless hours of Sesame Street.

When I was 3 she gave me a new toy…I mean new brother.

When I was 4 she made me a Winnie the Pooh costume for Halloween. In addition to the Butterfly, Minnie Mouse, and Unicorn costumes in subsequent Halloweens after that.

When I was 5 she joined the Sad Mommies Club because I started Kindergarten. It’s true.

When I was 6 she wallpapered my entire bedroom with clouds so it would match my Care-Bear theme.

When I was 7 she made me a Rainbow Brite birthday cake (in an attempt to top the previous year’s Care Bear Cake).

When I was 8 didn’t make fun of my Sally-Jesse-Raphael glasses.

When I was 9 she sat with me for hours on one end of the room while I stood at the other, to prove that when the teacher held up my painting in front of the class that day and made fun of it, no one could have read my name.

When I was 10 she choreographed the greatest talent show skit the world has ever known.

When I was 11 she spent hours learning my algebra homework so she could help me with it.

When I was 12 she bought me braces…and then let me join a hockey league.

When I was 13 she helped me build ridiculous science fair projects…and they all won 1^st place.

When I was 14 she helped me get ready for my first car-date.

When I was 15 she came to all my drill-team dance recitals and contests, even when that meant sitting on hard bleachers through boring hours of other dancers just to see me do the same 2 minute routine for the 15^th time.

When I was 16 she helped my dad surprise me with my first car.

When I was 17 and dumped by my date the day before the senior prom, she helped cheer me up and gave me this really goofy card that said "even though you’re having a bad day, here’s a list of things that could be worse..." and one of them was “your butt could fall off”.

When I was 18 she let me drive to college orientation all by myself…and cried. Then cried again when it was time for me to actually leave for college.

When I was 19 she was there when the “love of my life” broke up with me.

When I was 20 she still sent me Halloween and Easter candy (and she still does to this day!).

When I was 21 she was there when the 2^nd “love of my life” moved away.

When I was 22 she was willing to pay for a Master’s degree at Yale.

When I was 23 she let me convince her to audition for the theatre I worked for.

When I was 24 she let me move back home rent-free when I lost my job.

I love you Mom, thanks for everything!!!

10 Easy Steps To Be Cool Like Me

Brian Bailey recently brought to my attention how everyone wants to be cool like me. I don’t blame you, because I am a cool person. If I were you, I would want to be me.
And because I want you all to live happy and fulfilling lives being cool, here are 10 Easy Steps to Be Cool Like Me…

10. Obsessive-compulsively disinfect your desk and all contents on it at least once a week
9. Learn absurdly cheesy jokes. A good example of this is…There are 2 muffins in the oven. The first muffin turns to the second muffin and says "Boy, it's hot in here". Then the second muffin says "OH MY GOD, A TALKING MUFFIN!!!"
8. Organize the clothes in your closet by style (ie sweaters, longsleeve short sleeve, dressy, casual, etc…) then within each style, arrange by color from lightest to darkest. Do the same with your shoes.
7. Ignore what Oprah says…makeup should consist of powder and chapstick. What does she know anyway.
6. Alphabetize everything.
5. Quote “Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail”, “The Emperor’s New Groove”, or “The Princess Bride” as much as possible. This never gets old, and no other movies matter anyway.
4. Declare war on any insect or rodent that dares to enter your house, car, or workplace.
3. Refuse to have anything to do with the color pink in any and all circumstances
2. When in public at respectible places, tear off tiny pieces of your napkin or straw wrapper and roll into little balls creating a small paper-wad arsenal. You friends love it when you throw things at them and they have nothing to retaliate with. And if you're at Red Robin, find things like lemons and parsley and sugar wrappers and leave them in that cardboard box by the ketchup. See if they're still there the next time. Waiters love that...I swear.

And the number one way to be cool like me….Be as dorky as possible in any and all situations, and ignore anyone who makes fun of you for it.

Why I'm Moving to Vegas

A handful of us here at work recently took a trip to Vegas. It didn’t take long for me to come to one conclusion….for some reason, I’m hotter in Vegas! And I don’t say that egotistically….I have many witnesses who can back me up on this phenomenon of multiple men just...staring. So this was a running joke for a few days, and I wondered why on earth it seemed so many men took notice of me there more than anywhere else. Shoot, I thought, I’m moving to Vegas!!

Then I realized…..everyone’s drunk in Vegas.
Ahhh....now I get it. :)

I've Been Thwarted

That’s right, I used the word thwarted. Last week I was sufficiently thwarted. It all started when I tried to put down a deposit on a new apartment…

Last Wednesday afternoon I found an apartment I really liked. Problem was, it was a little more expensive than I wanted to pay. I was hoping to keep all my bills within 60% of my income, and this new apartment would make all my bills use up 65%. I debated and debated about this all day, and talked to a lot of people who I consider smart with their money and they all agreed that to have a variance of 3-5% here or there would be ok, in fact normal. So I faxed the application and decided to take the plunge.

Later that night there was a big storm, and the news threatened hail. So I moved my beloved truck to my parent’s barn, where it would be safe. We’ll come back to that in a minute.

The next morning, I still felt a little uneasy about the whole apartment thing. So in my quiet time, I told God that I was planning to go to the complex that morning on my way to work to put down the deposit, but if for any reason I was not supposed to commit to this apartment, to please “thwart my efforts”. Now, I don’t know who uses the phrase “thwart my efforts”…but I did.
Fast forward to an hour later…my mom drives me down the back alley to the barn where my truck is parked. We turn the corner find half a tree blocking our way, it had been knocked over from the storm the night before! We had to get out and take 10 minutes to move the tree out of our path! Keep in mind we are both on our way to work, and it’s still wet and raining. So she drives me the rest of the way to the barn and drops me off, and leaves for work. I get in my truck, drive out of the barn, and immediately get stuck in the mud. I’m not talking just a little stuck, I’m talking the mud was up to the running boards! And yes, I’m still in my work clothes and heels. So I try getting some momentum and rocking back and forth to get out of the mud. Nothing. I get out and grab some boards to stick under the tires. Still nothing. I call one or two friends who may or may not have time to give me a hand, and only one of them can show up in a few hours, but not before. I seriously consider hijacking the tracker, also stored in the barn, to pull the truck out. I was actually sitting in the tractor, fingers on the ignition, when I pictured all the things that could possibly go wrong with this plan. I give up.
So I walk back up to the house, in my work clothes and heels, in the rain. When I get to the house, I find my parent’s puppy has broken out of her crate and has proceeded to play in the wet bushes and muddy puddles. So 15 minutes and a few choice words later, the puppy finally gets back in the crate.
I go back in the house and suddenly realize…I’ve been thwarted. Knocked down trees, immobile trucks, and muddy puppies have all been pawns in God’s Master Thwarting Plan!! I can’t believe it, but yes, I’ve definitely experienced a divine thwarting.

*Note: Through yet another series of not-so-coincidental events within a few hours of all this happening, I found a place I like even better, and the rent just so happens to bring my total bills to exactly 60% of my income. Coincidence? I think not…

I Had No Idea I Was So Popular

Ok, so this post is a little lame considering I haven't posted anything in two weeks....and I could give you excuses about how I've been buried under a giant Easter Bunny, but you don't care, you only want more of the Blog de Crys... "Give us more!" you cry, "More blogging, because our days are filled with boredom and doldrums, and you are the only light in our dark and listless cubicles!!" ( I don't know what a doldrum is by the way...except you might want to have it checked...) So here, take this random morsel of humor for now and I promise to resume the Blogging de los Locos.

So I ran across this website a few days ago and it just made me laugh. Maybe I should make a guest appearance or something...

http://www.crysretreats.com/

Everything On The Internet is True

I wanted to share this email I've received a few times this week. It says:

On Wednesday of this week, at two minutes and three seconds after 1:00AM the time and date will be 01:02:03 04/05/06
This will never happen again in our life time.

My response: until 12 hours later at 1:00PM and the time and date will again be 01:02:03 04/05/06. THEN it will never happen again in our lifetime.

But don't worry...other than that, everything you read on the internet is true.
:)

I Was Wondering...

If a spider kills himself, is it called insecticide?
Or if a plant kills himself, is it herbicide?
I was just wondering.

Unsettling Discoveries...

I’m a pretty clean person. One would think that any place I inhabit would not be a suitable home for any sort of rodent or insect. However, I have recently discovered that my truck has become a hospitable environment for some sort of mutant, radioactive spiders.
I don’t think they started out as mutant, radioactive spiders. Because the other day when we went camping, Michael astutely noticed a very small spider crawling up the inside of the windshield. Gross. Yet squishable.

You must understand my opinion about insects. I don’t mind them…they’re creepy, but typically harmless. But…should one make the mistake of entering my humble abode, whether it be house, apartment, or car, it is all out war. And trust me, the insect will lose, no matter what it takes. So, of course, I mercilessly squash the tiny little spider. But then, no less than an hour later, a slightly larger spider is seen crawling up the windshield! Again, disgusting, yet disposable.

Then, just last night, I’m driving down the road, and suddenly, a much larger spider, perhaps an inch to an inch and a half in diameter, is crawling up the inside of the windshield! Now while all spiders that enter my personal space are sentenced to death, I am still a female. And while it is socially acceptable for me to, well, scream like a girl, freaking out is less desirable when you’re driving down the road. But since I already mentioned that I refuse to lose the spider vs. human battles, the spider must die a horrible death. So I kill the giant spider. With my bare hands. Ok hand…the other one was still driving.

But what disturbs me is that I can’t help but notice that the spiders keep getting bigger and bigger. I fear that there may have been some sort of spider-Ford reaction that is mutating a nest of ordinary spiders into giant, Crys-eating insects. One of these days I expect to see 8 giant hairy legs in my rear view mirror creeping over the top of the driver's seat, seeking revenge for his smaller brothers and ready to squish me with a giant kleenex.

Adventures in Camping

So this past weekend I was looking forward to going camping and enjoying a peaceful, relaxing, quiet time. Just to be able to drive away from civilization, leave it all behind, and go somewhere quiet to recharge and reconnect. So me, Jami, and Michael left after work on Friday to East Texas to do just that. It took almost three hours to get there, but we'd been on longer road trips together! Besides, I figured the farther we drive, the farther from civilization we'll be. So we drive thru Podunk City and Nosepick, Texas and finally arrive in Tatum, home of Martin Creek State Park. (Note, none of us have camped here before, our first choice being Tyler but it was already full and this was the next closest)

We drive up, everything appears normal. Lots of trees and cricket sounds...and we take the twisty turny drive to our campsite, number ten. But what's that rising above the trees, it looks like...three smokestacks...? But that's impossible, we're in a state park in the middle of nowhere! And what's that thru the trees...there seems to be an abnormal amount of light for this time of the evening...hmm.
We continue driving and counting down the campsites to ours...13...12...11...and as we round the corner, we find the perfect lakeside campsite, number 10. But only slightly more overshadowing was when turning the corner revealed that on the opposite side of the lake lie what can only be described as a fully active, fully functioning, nuclear power plant! We're talking this thing was lit up better than the Griswold's christmas tree. Plus three giant, clearly working, smokestacks. And it gets better. On the smokestacks were the bright flashing lights to warn airplanes of their presence. Such bright lights in fact, that you could see them reflecting off the trees above our campsite! The place could have doubled as an airport. And to top it all off, the occasional foghorn. We assumed to warn of impending meltdown doom. Needless to say, we won't be revisiting Martin Creek State Park or recommending it to anyone else, either!

Ahh, nothing like spending time with mother nature and coming home with an extra arm growing out of your head.

THIS is the peaceful and serene view from our campsite on Saturday morning.

And the Winner Is...

Ok, so I just read Kara's post about the Oscars and how she listed who she thought who should have won, and it gave me an idea. So in the Crys McDonald Show, here's who the Oscars would really go to...

Best Dressed...Always Kara. Miss Fashion Fabulous herself.

Best Picture...Amy, because let's face it, she's gorgeous.

Best Chick Flick...Sara, because she can embrace all the girly stuff that I'm not always good at.

Best Shoot 'Em Up...Ross, because he looks a 4 ton pissed off bull in the eye at least once a week and then says "that was fun!"

Best Actor...Erick. Make him sing and you'll understand.

Best Speech...Matt, because he always has something great to say. It might be wise, or it might be cheesy, but if you need advice Matt's always got some ready. And chances are it will rhyme.

Best Supporting Actor and Actress...my parents! Not just because they are literally supporting me financially right now by letting me live with them and eat their food, but because they are continually supportive in all the things I do, from probably 20 years ago when I said "I want to work in theatre" to about 2 months ago when I said "I'm gonna go work for a church!"

Best Friend in a Recurring Role: Blake Rodgers because he has always been there for me time and time again. I joke that I don't like to have him around my christian friends because he's got all the pre-Fellowship dirt on me and says things that give me heart attacks like "remember the time when..." but the truth is I love when he's around and I love him so much and am so blessed that he still puts up with me, and now we get to share our faith, too!

Most Inspirational Role: Brad Saab, who went off to Florida to save the world.

Best Tech in a Trilogy: My friend Kyle from college. I say Trilogy because like Blake, he too has been around quite a while and I am so blessed that he's still a part of my life. And Best Tech because that guy can build anything. And when he did, we entertained ourselves by seeing how many pieces we could break it into, find the farthest city we could drive it too, then try to put it back together again. Hours of fun people.

Best Soundtrack: Jason, because time and time again, no one ever gives me better advice than that guy, and he always knows what's right or what to do.
Drives me nuts.

Best New Artist: My office mates Brian, Jeph, and Brad who continually entertain and remind me not to take things too seriously! Brian is always sure to ask how you are or how your weekend was, Brad is always good for a useful piece of knowledge, unusual story, or a sarcastic poke at Jeph, and Jeph is great if you have a water bottle lid or sunflower seed shortage.

Lifetime Achievement Award: I can't have an awards show without giving this award to the one and only Jesus Christ. I am daily reminded, humbled, and amazed at what he has done with my life, and accolades are truly due to someone who worked so hard to get me here!

Its the Little Things

So I've been living with my parents for a few weeks now. There's very little I don't like about my current living situation, but it's funny when I think of what I thought would be the greatest thing about living here, and what I actually get the most pleasure out of are two different things.
(Before I continue...let me add the disclaimer that I'm speaking purely of material things. Yes, I love the fact that I actually get to spend some time with my parents after so much time away at college, and no, no material thing is better than that. That goes without saying. So that being said...)

I thought living in a beautiful, ginormous house would be fabulous enough in itself compared to my little apartment. I thought having access to a nice quiet lake to escape to would appeal to me daily. I thought living rent-free for a few months would bring tears of joy. And I wasn't wrong, all those things are very true. But what's surprising is that what I notice more are the little things. Like the fact that the cereal is brand name and not generic. And the fact that when I pack my lunch, I don't have to save the ziplock bags to wash them out and reuse them, or be careful not to crinkle the brown paper bag too much so I can use that again, too. Or that when you want to blow your nose, you don't have to use the toilet paper because tissues are a part of bathroom decor. For that matter, there is toilet paper on the roll, and you don't have to resort to paper towels! And the fact that you can throw away twist ties because there's a magic drawer with more. Or the fact that paper plates even exist, or how there are actual napkins instead of (again) a roll of paper towels. And bottles of water instead of reusing the bottle and filling it with tap water every day. And nothing here has been fashioned from an old cardboard box, or held together by expertly placed rubber bands and safety pins.

Someday when I'm rich and famous in my own home, I'll be able to do all those things too. Isn't it funny that you know you've finally made it not by looking at the size of your bank account, but by the fact that you can buy real Cherrios with the little bee and everything instead of "Sugar O's".
It's funny how regardless of all the things going on around you, it's the little things that matter.

My Secret!

I have a confession to make. I wasn’t going to blog about this because I was embarrassed at first but it’s just too funny not to.
So last month I decided to….cringe…join eharmony. I confess. I did it. I have paid someone money to find me a date. A date that could turn out to be the unibomber for all I know.
Not that eharmony is a bad site or anything, in fact as far as internet dating goes, I’d say it’s the site to go with. I just never really saw myself doing the whole internet dating thing. And don’t worry…I’m not so much concerned with finding “Mr. Right” and settling down and start popping out rug rats, but just that it might be nice to meet someone outside of the 8 people in my hometeam (yes, even though no one I meet could be better than you guys so keep the smart comments to yourself!)

So I join eharmony. I give them my credit card number and sign my life away. I pay them money. Actual, hard earned dollars that are rightfully mine. I fill out their twelve billion question personality profile that discovers your twelve billion levels of compatibility. I learn that one of my twelve billion personality traits is I’m not very patient in taking twelve billion question personality quizzes. (By the way, I never exaggerate. Never ever ever.) Ok so here’s where it gets good.
I hit “submit”. Up pops a little icon that says “searching”.
“Searching”
“Searching”
“Searching”
And then a page that says “We’re sorry, but there is currently no one in our database that is a suitable match for you. But please don’t give up because literally thousands of people are joining eharmony every day and we will continue to search for your matches”

So it’s true. I have the proof right there. I am incompatible with “literally thousands” of people! No wonder I can’t get a date, I’m completely incompatible with anyone in the DFW metroplex!! And to top it all off, I am listening to the radio a few nights later and there is a commercial about eharmony, and they are advertising that they have 4.5 million members in their database!! So it’s not just “thousands” of people I’m incompatible with, but millions!!!

Well you can’t say I didn’t try. I guess it saved me the time of dating “literally thousands” of people.

All I have to say is Mr. Right better not be a member of eharmony. :)
(And yes…I see the irony of this posting on the heels of the valentines day post…)

Happy Single Awareness Day

Yes, that's right, Single Awareness Day. Otherwise known to the rest of the world as Valentine's Day. Valentine's can be great when you have a boyfriend or girlfriend to share it with. But what about the singles of the world? What about the independent, content with their current boyfriend-less lifestyle, future cat ladies of the world? Don't worry, I'm not going to go off on one of those feminist "I hate men" rants because that's just silly. But really...everyone focuses on the fabulousness of Valentines Day for those lucky enough to be coupled up. But does that mean, by default, that everyone without romantic plans has to be depressed with their pathetically unfulfilled single life?

I say that's ridiculous. I say if you want to throw yourself a pity party, the other 364 days of the year are just as good. Just because this one happens to be called Feb 14th doesn't make it any more pity-party friendly. I say count your blessings. Think of all the money you're saving by not buying somebody a gift that will either wilt in three days or add 5 pounds to your hips that have been sticking to your new year's resolution for a month and a half. Think about how you don't have to share the bathroom with anyone. What about how when you put dishes in the dishwasher or laundry in the hamper, they magically stay there! Or how when there's dirty underwear on the floor, you know for sure it's definately yours. Or how you can take a 2 hour bath if you wanted to and no one will judge you for it. Or how there's no one on the other side of the bed who sets their alarm 30 minutes before yours so you always end up waking up earlier than you wanted to anyways.

I'm not saying it's not fabulous to be in a relationship. I'm just saying that just because you're not in one doesn't mean your life is incomplete. I already know that I am loved deeply and taken care of and thought of as beautiful...that comes straight from God. I don't need another person to tell me that. Would it be nice to have a guy say that to me? Sure! But he doesn't have to for me to know that it's true. Because what if one day he changed his mind...because people do that since we aren't perfect...where would I be then if all my happiness and security lay with him? But if I know the truth...then when a guy comes along that happens to believe that same truth too, well that's just icing on the cake. Until then, I'm not focusing on how I'm "missing my other half" or how I can't be happy or complete until I'm in love. I'm a complete person because of God, not someone else's opinion, and until he brings me that very lucky guy :)...I'm thinking about all the awesome blessings I've already got and don't even deserve....and not focusing on the one single thing I don't have! (get it...single...) So future cat ladies...or cat gentlemen...of the world, rejoice! Life is awesome, don't miss it while you're too busy trying to find it!

The World According to JC Penny

So last week I decided I needed some new clothes. Let me preface by saying I hate shopping for clothes, and the last time I did it was probably about 4 years ago! One might ask, ‘but you’re a girl, doesn’t that mean you enjoy shopping?” The answer is a resounding NO! I hate clothes shopping because not only is every woman’s body different than the next, every BRAND of women’s clothing is different too! You might say that’s a good thing. I say give me some consistency! Size 6 in Levis jeans should be the same as size 6 in Calvin Klein! And what ever happened to the odd numbers, wasn’t there once a store called “5-7-9”? And don’t even get me started on the “low rise” and “boot cut” nonsense and that stupid thing your pants do when you sit down and suddenly there’s a 2 inch gap between your waist and your pants!
But, unless we all revert back to fig leaves (which I’m gonna go ahead and say is a bad idea!), the shopping must be done. So first I journey to Ross, where you never have to pay more than $3 for an article of clothing. I tackle the jeans aisle. Sigh. I don’t even know where to start. The one pair of jeans I currently own are a size 9 and a million years old. They are also too big and held together with a safety pin (I can see Kara hanging her head in shame now). So step one, I estimate I am now a size 6. Step two...eliminate any jeans with flowers, bedazzles, or anything pink. Step three…with the remaining selection, guess at random which ones will fit.
So with an armload of size 6, non-flowery, non-bedazzled, and non-pink jeans in tow, I head to the dressing room. 20 minutes later I walk out empty handed. Sigh. Already I wonder what is so abnormal about the lower half of my body that no pair of pants will fit it! How dare the jean companies of the world make me question my superior physical shape!!!

Next I tried Thrift Town and TJ Max to no avail. I resigned myself to the fact that I may have to pay more than $20 for an article of clothing, which is against everything I believe. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s in the bible. So I cringe and make my way to….sigh…the mall. Yes, the mall, a fishtank of teeny bopping girls and pant-sagging boys who try to act cool as their parents drop them off at the food court. A place filled with overpriced clothes that no one else has ever actually worn before. A sea of clothing racks and accessories that only the hip and trendy can identify as “cool” or “uncool”. Yes, that is where I go.
I once again find myself overwhelmed in a sea of jeans. I load up on all different sizes and brands, not quite daring to look at the price tags. Then I make my way to the dressing room and begin the process again. One after another, each jean is rejected. There are a few that seem to fit, but even those are about 6 inches too long for my apparently abnormally short legs.
The next pair I pick up is a size 4. How ridiculous, I think. I can’t fit into a size 4. But considering the vast definition of what a size 4 actually is depending on who you ask, I try them on anyways. And what is this? They seem to emit a soft golden glow, and I think I hear a choir somewhere singing “aahhh”. I turn around back and forth to see if it’s true. Yes, they actually seem to fit! I look for ripped pockets or busted seams. None! I don’t know what kind of space-time-continuom I seem to have passed thru where my giant butt can fit into a size 4 jean, but I’m not asking questions!
And believe it or not, I find even two more pairs that fit as well! The gods of JC Penny have smiled upon me! Then I dare to look at the price tags. Yikes. Ouch. No bueno. Perhaps they are not overly expensive to your skilled shopaholic, but for someone used to the prices at Ross….well let’s just say we’re not in Kansas anymore Toto.
But I decide for the amount of times in a year that I actually buy clothes, and the amount of times I actually FIND clothes that fit, I should probably make the investment.
So I painfully walk to the counter with my 3 pair of jeans, and what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature price tag and good news for my ears!!! It seems that these particular jeans are on SALE! Never before have I understood the excitement those four little letters can bring to a woman’s ear. I have found the holy grail.

Now I must add a side note for all the men who read my blog: Yes, shopping is a spectator sport, and there are times when you are the lucky spectator, just like we are when you want to look at cars or video games. However, I warn you, avoid going clothes shopping with your girlfriend whenever possible!! Now you may be saying to yourself, Crys, of course I know better than that. Why would I ever do that. But when you’re out with your girlfriend and you pass a store and she gives you those big brown eyes and calls you pookie and asks to go in for “just a few minutes”, you and I both know you are going to cave. And during my quest for the perfect pair of jeans, I have seen the casualties of shopping firsthand. Too many men are sitting outside of dressing rooms with defeated looks in their eyes holding purses. Don’t say you haven’t been warned.

Stability Balls and Answered Prayers

So this year I jumped on the “get in shape” bandwagon and my New Year’s Resolution was a healthier lifestyle (which, by the way, I’m totally rockin the casa on). So I bought one of those big rubber stability balls to help me get in shape.

First of all, I would like to note for the record that these so-called “stability balls” can truly be described only as “fall on your giant-out-of-shape-butt" balls. If you have ever used one of these things, you would agree that these suckers are anything but “stable”. My first exercise was to sit on top of the thing and do a sit up. Seems easy enough. So I sit on top, cross my arms over my chest, start to lean back, and before I know it, I’m upside down on the floor and the ball is chasing Duncan across the living room. But I am determined to get in shape, so I try again. Second try, I manage not to fall off (score one!), however I discover my true wimpiness (strike two!)...I can’t even do a full sit up! My muscles simply don’t work, and I only make it like half way up. But I am determined, so I do as much as I can.
So the next exercise is push ups. These are the same as regular push ups except that your hands are on either side of the ball instead of the floor. I quickly find my push up arms more resemble that of a newborn horse just learning to walk than actual push ups. And once again, before I know it, the ball has quickly rolled our from under me and I’m munching on linoleum. I swear I hear that dang ball giggle as it rolls away. But nothing can stop me and my quest for health!
And this seems to be the theme of my work out plan…make feeble attempts at what I think is probably cake for most anyone else, and end up backwards and upside down, but getting up and trying again every time.
I discovered that less than a week later, I’m easily doing 40-50 crunches and pushups and all kinds of other little exercises on that sucker! Now I am supremely impressed with my extreme physical prowess, as all should be, and I don’t intend on quitting!

On a totally unrelated note (but watch me tie them together!) I was recently offered a job at the church, which is a totally answered prayer as I’ve been unemployed for the last 3 months, applying to everything I can find, wondering what exactly my next career step should be. I looked for theatre jobs as well as corporate jobs here in Texas, wondering if God was calling me to a new field. I looked in New York too, wondering if it was time for me to finally move, a step I’ve dreamed of my whole life. I wondered if God was asking me to give things up…and if so, would it be my dream of moving to New York, or the things I love in Texas...the best church and the best friends I’ve ever known.
It’s funny…for the last 2+ years, I’ve known I would leave this church and my friends and family and move to New York eventually. And for the last 2+ years, I wondered how I would ever say goodbye to the people who mean more to me than anything else. Well it turns out I got my answer…I can’t. At least not yet, and I accepted the job at Fellowship Church! Turns out that my God is a faithful God, one who knows me better than I know myself and knows where I will be happiest. And right now, it’s right here! Turns out that my God has a plan for my life that I can’t analyze or try to predict, but rather roll with and find out small pieces of his plan when the time is right. I hope that New York is not totally out of the picture, but just on a later page in the scrapbook. But what I do know already is that this job is the perfect place for me now and I am so stinkin excited to get started!!

What does this have to do with stability balls, you ask yourself. Well, get ready for this...just when you think your on top of your game, just when you think you’re on top of your world with everything figured out, just when you think everything in front of you is cake and you’ve got it in the bag, suddenly and before you know it, everything is pulled out from under you and you’re on the floor, upside down and backwards and you never even knew it was coming. But here’s the important part… if you’re going to accomplish what you set out to do, you have to have the strength to get back up and try again. You have to have the courage to look that dadgum stability ball in the eye and say it’s you or me sucker and I ain’t losing! And you have to have the faith in yourself that you can do it, and trust in the faithful God that will come thru just like he said he would.
And that, my friend, is all you need to know about stability balls and answered prayers.

Why I love...girlfriends!

Welcome to installment number two of "Why I love..." Today, I love my girlfriends. Yes, that statement just came from the lips...er, fingers...of Crys McDonald.
A little over two years ago I barely even had girlfriends, finding myself much more at home in a construction shop surrounded by the "prove your worth" machismo of boys...sorry, men. I loved being able to hold my own among them, being challenged every day because there was always someone who didn't think I could hack it, and then surprising the heck out of them when I did! And they would show their acceptance of me by being comfortable enough to grab themselves in my presence or by holding me to the same expectations of every other guy. They had cool nicknames for me like "Queen Bee", and I'm sure some less appropriate ones that I never heard. And while they often had physical advantages over me in that environment, every now and then the fact that I was the smallest and lightest would come in handy, or a project would come along that just needed a softer, more intricate touch. The fact that I was the same as them yet stood out as someone totally different excited and motivated me.
But I've also learned to love being around girlfriends just as much, if not more. They unquestioningly accept me for who I am without needing to prove it, and understand me like no other guy ever could. They challenge me in different ways, but because of them I've grown more than I ever could without them. And I still enjoy proving myself to people and surprising them with the things I know or can do. But with my girlfriends, if I fail to meet a challenge or "prove" myself, that doesn't change their opinion or acceptance of me. They don't know me for what I can do, but who I am according to what's in my heart. They aren't comfortable enough around me to grab themselves...but instead they are comfortable enough to cry in front of me and share their own heart. They don't hold me to the same expectations as everyone else...but instead to what they know I am capable of even when I don't believe it myself. But strangely enough, just like the guys, they see that I am the same as them, yet I stand out as someone totally different, and they embrace both unquestioningly and without judgement.

I was reminded of these things this weekend at Amanda Johnson's wedding reception. I was riding home with Kara and Sara and we had been ridiculously goofy all night. Building wedding cake sculptures, lip-synching into water bottles, and taking silly pictures with the disposable cameras at the table! On the way home while we were giggling and singing terribly at the top of our lungs to whatever song came on the radio, I stopped for a second to realize how much fun I was having. Which sounds weird...stop having fun to realize how much fun your having...but for just a moment I reflected on how lucky I am to have such incredible friends, but most of all such incredible girlfriends that know me so well and are just as ridiculously dorky as I am! So to all my girlfriends, this blog's for you!

The Labors of Unemployment

My my, I have been a slacker, haven't I. It seems that since leaving my job at Casa Manana, I'm just not much of a blogger. One would think that with all this extra free time on my hands, I'd be just a blogging away! But truth be told, there just isn't much happening that's blog-worthy. But it seems that my fans are hungry for more, so in good blogger form, I shall regale you with the tales of my days...

Yesterday morning I was very busy ensuring that the mattress on my bed was not too overstuffed, and that the small valley that exists where I sleep in the same place every night was properly proportioned to my body. I also needed to make sure my blankets were the proper temperture. It's a well known fact that it's very bad for blankets to spend too much time being chilly and should be warmed regularly.
Afterwards, I thought it necessary to rid the world of a few cups of coffee. Everyone should do their part or else coffee beans will soon take over the world. Then I realized I should really be sure that my refrigerator is not overstocked. So I alleviated some of the fridge-pressure by sacrificing my own body fat index for the good of the fridge. Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do.
That afternoon I was very busy making sure the couch cushions and pillows were all properly stuffed. This is very important for when company comes over. That's right, I'm doing this for you, people. I also made sure all the channels on my tv were working properly, and that the tv was functioning correctly in conjuction with the dvd and vcr.
It was also important to make sure my telephone, laptop computer, and ipod were all working up to par. Next I found that my clothes were strangely devoid of cat hair, so I thought it best to take a nap on the couch with Duncan to ensure proper cat-hair coverage.
Later that night I realized my friends must be going thru withdrawl symptoms by not seeing me in a full two days, so I thought it best to grace them with my presence and help them rid the world of a few more cups of coffee.
Finally I return home, after a long day's work, only to find that my mattress is once again in need of squishing. So, in a gesture of self-sacrifice, I find myself returning to the arduous task of mattress-overstuffing-prevention and blanket-warming.
Ah, what a long and busy day, only to wake up the next morning to do it all over again...will the cycle never end??