The Handbag Meme

I've been tagged by Jewel over at "Down in My Little Valley" to do this short and sweet little meme. Whenever Jewel tags me with a meme, I always want to do it. I think it has something to do with the homey, comforting feel of her blog. Her blog is like homemade blueberry muffins, fresh out of the oven. Like sipping hot cocoa topped with whipped cream while wrapped in a snuggly blanket, warming yourself by a cozy fire. So, here's my current handbag:

Truth be told, this bad boy cost me nada. Zilch. Bupkis. Nary a cent. It was given to me as a gift by a . . . more well-off-than-me benefactor. I didn't use it for months after it was given to me because, honestly, I'm not really into the hype of brand-names. I was fine with my previously worn street vendor tourist trap purse I bought for 5 euros in Spain:

I switched over because out of the blue, I felt the urge to match my purse to an outfit. Because I normally don't obsess over matching purses and such. I'm a girly girl, but not exactly a fru-fru, everything-must-match girl. Guess I was too lazy to switch back.

But my favorite purse (and the one that gets the most compliments), hands down, is this one:

I got it for two dollars at Goodwill. Sho did. (You better believe I hit up Goodwill. Unashamedly.)

I hereby tag Kim and Shana. Now, I KNOW y'all have some purse stories. ;-)

The Georgia State Trooper Blues

Cue the soundtrack for this post, the oh, so appropriately titled "Trouble" by Coldplay:



Okay. I just dropped my friend off at the Atlanta airport. It's gray, rainy, and depressing. Coldplay songs like this one are rolling through my head. I started out the day with vivacious waves in my hair but because of the blasted depressing rain and humidity, I was already on slumping with matted chunks. I was imagining the confused looks on my student's faces while attempting to explain to them the differences between the two past tenses in Spanish, the preterit and the imperfect. But, why did God create me with a lead foot? Why did I buy a car sans cruise control? Like, how did that happen, as road trip prone as I am?

I'm sure you can guess what happened next. Yep. Got served up a blue light special. Georgia state troopers are quite cunning. The last few speeding tickets I've gotten were in Georgia. And I live in Alabama! At least he didn't write it for speeding in a construction zone, which would have been double. (Yipe! Thank ya Lordy.)

O no, what's this?
A spider web, and I'm caught in the middle,
So I turn to run,
The thought of all the stupid things I've done . . .

Blago is Wacko

I was almost brought to tears laughing this morning after reading about Gov. Blagojevich's impeachment hearings beginning today. He's taken to the TV circuit in the meantime, though, and this is what he had to say about his arrest on the Today Show (according to this article on cnn.com):

"I thought it was actually a friend of mine who was playing a practical joke," he said of his arrest. "Unfortunately it wasn't. And then the day unfolded and I had a whole bunch of thoughts — of course my children, and my wife — and then I thought about Mandela, Dr. King, Gandhi and tried to put some perspective in all of this and that's what I'm doing now."

Like, seriously? Nelson Mandela, Dr. King and Gandhi compared to you getting arrested for trying to profanely sell the Illinois senate seat? Yeeaa—no. But this is when tears sprang to my eyes:

He told ABC that he had been considering many candidates for the position, including TV talk show host Oprah Winfrey.

"She seemed to be someone who had helped Barack Obama in a significant way become president," Blagojevich said. "She was obviously someone with a much broader bully pulpit than other senators."

THAT'S funny. Come on. Oprah as a senator? Even Oprah was floored when she heard that one. It just seems like he's making up outrageous stuff as he goes along to milk as much as he can out of the rest of his pre-impeached life. Man, I needed that laugh.

Prove Me Wrong

These are the lyrics to an ancient song by Caedmon's Call. I forgot how much I love it. Click here to hear it in its entirety.

Prove Me Wrong
Sometimes I fear maybe I'm not chosen
You've hardened my heart like Pharaoh
That would explain why life is so hard for me
And I am sad Esau hated
Crying against what's fated
Saying father, please, is there any left for me
Chorus:
Cast out my doubts, please prove me wrong
'Cause these demons can be so headstrong
Make my walls fall, please prove me wrong
'Cause this resentment's been building
Burn them up with your fire so strong
If you can before I bail, please prove me wrong

I fear maybe this is all just a game
Our friends and our families all play too
Harness the young and give some comfort to the old
(Chorus)
Don't let my doubts prove true
Draw me close and hold me near to you
Keep me still until the day you
(Chorus)

Today God proved me wrong. It never ceases to amaze me when He does. He cares about my concerns and doubts. He knows I'm headstrong, knows I'm a skeptic, knows I'm emotional. But none of that is off-putting to Him. He cares. God, continue to prove me wrong.

My Cabinet Crush in Action

Here's my cabinet crush debating an energy bill June 26, 2008. This is what I'm talking about right here. Tellin it like it is! Authoritatively laying the parliamentary smackdown! I love it when he refuses to yield and I love it when he gets really passionate near the end. Super sexy.

My Cabinet Crush

Okay . . . I'm going to finish this abolitionist-feminist post-colonial Latin American novel in a minute. It's uber-Romantic. Not as in Valentine's Day, but as in the literary movement. Lots of sighs, melancholy, fits of passion, exclamations, rapturous obsession, self-absorption. Kind of reminds me of this blog. Har, har.

Anyway, as I am wont to do, I am briefly procrastinating at Panera Bread before getting down to business. (Free wi-fi. Heard you.) I'm trying to figure out what it is about Obama's Chief of Staff, Rahm Emanuel, that is so appealing to me. He's an incredibly sexy Chief of Staff, but why?

He's got rugged good-looks, distinguished-looking salt and pepper hair, and he's kind of a bad boy. You know, he has a reputation for being brusque and foul-mouthed and sort of thuggish in his approach. This NYT article may be proof that he's cleaning it up a little, which is fantastic, but still, it's got to be more than his hair and his bad boy edge. The power that he wields and the legend that surrounds him is intriguing.

Most of all, I think it's that, when I see a picture of him, something communicates that he's handling it. That he's got it under control, and that whatever he wants done WILL get done. That authoritativeness is what I find attractive about him.

God help the guy I end up with, but whoever he is and wherever he is, he must have a backbone. I want him to have a little bit of, "Honey, I'm handling this." But not too much. Naw.

My Boy Gets Testy

I'm very happy with my new president. I think he's doing the right thing to begin the process to close Guantanamo Bay. Whoever you voted for, I think most can agree that it wasn't exactly the paragon of American justice. I will admit that there is a bit of policy I'm not exactly jumping for joy about (I'm pro-life), but I knew that going in. Anyway, I was trying to think of something I didn't like about my boy specifically. Like if someone said, "Tell me what you don't like about Obama right now, or I'll slash your tires," I'd probably say my boy could work on not getting testy.

When reporters ask him questions that get under his skin, he gets a little testy.

Wanting to be left alone on his vacation:


(It's funny though. He says "just trying to be left alone" almost cheerily. I also think the way he says the word "scripture" is SO Obama.)

On asking about his "change of heart" concerning Hillary (about a minute into the clip):


(I would have hated to have been that reporter. "The fault, dear reporter, is not in your stars, but in yourself, that you are an underling. I dismiss your question with a presidential chuckle.")

On asking about filling Senate seat:


(I would have hated to have been this reporter too. My boy's basically just like "I'm not even gonna let you finish asking it. SEET down." Burn.)

I'll admit it makes me snicker, but ultimately, it's something he could stand to work on. I don't want him to lose his reputation for being cool under fire.

Delight

Just finished my lesson plans for Elementary Spanish II. When one of my students called me Miss Smith the other day, I had a flashback from my former life. The life where I made a little more money and lived in the "real world."

Out of the responses I got in trying to peg the moral of my coat story, the one that gave me the most hope was, "Delight thyself also in the LORD; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart" (Psalm 37:4). I hereby crown Jewel Queen of Spiritual Implicationdom. lol.

I've heard that promise all my life. It's something I do hold to dearly. It's something that has been fulfilled at various times in my life. And the fact that it has been fulfilled before gives me hope that it will continue to be.

Here I am in my present life. Lowly GTA, pressing towards the mark of the Masters degree, juggling laborious reading and teaching responsibilites, wondering what my next life will entail. I have a couple of ideas swimming around in my gray matter. Well, there's France. I doubt I will follow a classmate's advice to become an existentialist. But after that? I want a change of scene. I could go for the gold (the PhD) as many have suggested I do, and I've even considered going to seminary (UGST), hoping I'll figure something out there. There's so much I could do. But there's a part of me that is craving an ethereal beam of light to illuminate what it is that I should do.

(Points to anyone who can tell what that's a picture of! Hint: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.)

Happy New President Day!

I witnessed a piece of history today. Live. (Not in person, of course, but watching it live is close enough.) I'm glad that I didn't have class or any other commitments today during that time so that I would be able to.

My boy's speech was much more somber than I expected it to be. I suppose he felt it appropriate for his tone to match the gravity of some of the hardships our country is experiencing. I appreciate the fact that he emphasized responsibility and sacrifice, and I feel that he captured the seismic mindset shift of this era with the messages he had for other parts of the world:

"To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict or blame their society's ills on the West, know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy.

To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history, but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.

To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds.

And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to the suffering outside our borders, nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it."

The world has changed, and we must change with it.

As a child of the postmodern, I have a tendency to connect the external with my personal experience. Obama's speech, more specifically, his reflection on our country's ideals accompanied with a call for a different approach, made me reflect on my faith.

The world has changed. But the principles that the United States of America was founded upon have remained the same. What it means to be an American has remained the same. The rights and reponsibilities of American citizens have remained the same. But, as Americans, the way in which we respond to the world must.

The world has changed. But the principles of the Word of God have remained the same. What it means to be a Christian has remained the same. The blessings and the responsibilities of being a member of the Body of Christ have remained the same. But, as Christians, the way in which we respond to the world must.

Changing with the world is not, as some fear, disturbing the solid foundations that define us as a people, be it as Americans or as people of faith. Changing with the world means adapting method and mindset without compromising message.

(P.S. To participate in a contest of "spiritual implications," scroll down or click here.)

Happy MLK Day!

An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity.

--Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

(P.S. Scroll down to participate in a contest of . . . spiritual implications.)

Name That Spiritual Implication!

I'm not usually a person who thinks that every minute thing that happens has a spiritual implication. But in this case, I do. And I'm going to need your help.

The Story

I wanted this coat SO badly. (But in black.) I saw it at New York & CO and fell in love with it. But 1. I didn't need it because I have a couple of other coats, and 2. I need to save my money.

A few weeks later I was at the mall with my dear mom, and saw it again. This time it was 50% off. "Aw, mom," I gushed. "I loooove this coat." I tried it on. I sighed. "But I don't need it."

A few weeks later, I go home for the weekend, and I still have my mind set on that coat. I tell myself that if it's still there and in my size, I'm going to take it as a sign that it was meant to be. I go to both New York & CO's in town. All sold out. Dejected, I look online. None in the color I want in my size. I even called a couple of stores in Birmingham. "Sorry, we're all sold out." I wanted that coat! Waahh! I even cried to dear mom about it. (Not literally. Come on.)

After I finished pouting, I came to the mature, rational, spiritual revelation that I didn't need it. It's a material thing. How could you get upset about not being able to find a dumb coat? You already have more than enough coats. You don't need it. I let go.

Today, before I leave to go back to Auburn, Mom comes home from the mall. I walk in the living room to see The Coat lying on the sofa. In the color that I wanted. In my size. "Mom!" I cried, "How did you . . . where did you get this from?" She calmly replied that she got it from the mall. Apparently, someone had returned one. It was still 50% off, and she got it for an extra 10% off because it was missing a button. It had an extra attached, and she expertly sewed it on for me.

"I don't mean to spiritualize everything," Mom begins, "but I think this has a spiritual implication."

"Yeah, I know! I was thinking the same thing!" I exclaimed, and I began to relate what I thought the moral of the story was.

My Take

Okay, so I wanted this coat really badly. I went all over town, on the Internet, and even called stores in other cities to see if they had it. I realized the vanity of my desire and let it go. But God knows our needs and our wants and He cares. I was trying to do it on my own, but He wanted to show me that He cares so much that He can make things happen once I gave up trying to do it in my own might.

Mom shook her head disapprovingly. She related what she thought the moral of the story was.

Mom's Take

I think it has to do with passion. You were so passionate about wanting to find that coat, weren't you? You went all over town, looked on the Internet and even called stores cities away to try to find one. Well, if you can get that passionate over a coat, you should be that and more over the things of God.

Dear Reader

Dear mom has a point, even though I like my version better. And this is where you come in, dear reader. I'm still convinced that this story has a spiritual implication. I'm less concerned with whose take makes more spiritual sense than I am with whether there is some other deeper interpretation that neither of us considered. (Although you may feel free to judge which one of the already givens makes the most sense if you'd like.)

If I happen to get some interesting responses, I will choose the most convincing and crown the winner King or Queen of Spiritual Implicationdom.

So, have at it. What is the moral of the story to you?

Obama et moi

Oui, nous pouvons!

Taking Care

Okay, this post may edge toward girliness. You've been forewarned.

My priest friend Padre is back in one of my classes this semester. He's really busy and has a bit of a drive to get to class. Our class starts at 6 p.m. and I know he probably doesn't have time to eat anything before getting to class, so I delight in bringing him stuff to eat.

Before class I was all in the kitchen, toasting bread to make a perfect sandwich for him. I also packed him a granola bar, some wheat crackers and a couple of cookies. I was so happy, because I knew he would probably welcome the snack.

I'm sitting here laughing at myself because it seems . . . I don't know, funny that I would be so happy at the prospect of bringing someone food. But I like it. I like doing little things like that. But really, I like the idea of taking care of someone.

Here's where the girly part comes in . . . one of these days, I'd like to have someone to take care of. To do little special things for them. And I suppose I'd like to be taken care of too. Awww. Warm Curious George lavender sunflower chai tea caramel snuggly chocolate chip cookie fuzzies.

What Kind of Muffin Are You?

I found this quiz over at, well . . ."What the Muffin?" How pleasantly appropriate. It turns out that I'm a chocolate chip muffin. Mmmmm . . . .

You Are a Chocolate Chip Muffin

You are an interesting set of contradictions. You are innocent yet bold. Funky yet predictable. You are a bit dramatic and showy. You love attention. And you know how to charm people into giving you what you want. You are very determined and ambitious... but you're also lazy. Success tends to come easily for you. You often "luck out".

What Kind of Muffin Are You?

Blessings (Thank ya)

1. First I was scheduled to teach Spanish 1010 at 8 a.m. I wanted to teach Spanish 1020, and I didn't want to teach that early! Before the semester started, I was switched to teaching Spanish 1020 at 2 p.m. Thank ya.

2. I had a gazillion books to buy for a particular class I'm taking. It just so happens that a classmate of mine who'd already taken that professor lent me all of the books I needed. Thank ya.

3. When stress abounds, my face retaliates unmercifully. This semester is even more stressful, work-wise (taking two classes and teaching one) and program-wise (comps!), but I wake up every morning and am pleased to see a zitless me. Thank ya.

4. My procrastinatory side has taken a backseat this time around. I'm keeping up with class reading and lesson plans, and I've got a good start with preparing for comps. Thank ya.

5. I have some direction about what I'm going to do with myself when this gig is up. I'm excited about the future rather than unsure. Thank ya.

6. The people in my program are so funny and supportive. I had one of the best laughs ever after Golden Age lit today. Tears were running down our cheeks. It's nice to be able to work with a great group of folks. Thank ya.

7. I'm not worried about things as much anymore. Thank ya.

8. Thanks to my little cousin, my Curious George now has a big brother. Thank ya.

I Felt Like Getting Ghetto or How I Can Relate to Rumpelstiltskin

Okay, I have a pretty little watch that has needed a battery for aeons, so I figured I'd handle it while on a random swing by Wal Mart.

I hereby dub the lady at the jewelry counter the most unhelpful jewelry counter lady EVER.

Lady: (mumbling, barely audible, and unconcerned) Canihelpyou.

Me: (Bright and cheery despite her nonchalance) Hi! May I get a new watch battery please?

Lady: (Takes my watch, looks at it briefly, then hands it back) You didn't get this here.

At this point, I'm not taken aback or anything. A while ago, I went to a Wal Mart for a watch battery change, and the person said she couldn't put it in herself, but sold me the battery and gave me the little pop-off tool to do so myself.

Me: Oh, okay. But can you give me something to help me so that I can do it myself?

Lady: No, 'cause you didn't buy yo' watch from here.

Me: (A little perplexed now) What? So, you can't even sell me a watch battery?

Lady: (rolls her eyes and sighs) What kind of battery you need?

Me: (starting to seethe inwardly, exasperatedly blinking) How long have you had this policy? I mean, I've bought a watch battery and had help changing it at a Wal Mart before.

Lady: (unblinking) We had this policy for a while now.

I begin to unsuccessfully pop off the back of my watch with my thumbnail to see what kind of battery I needed. I mean, how many different kinds of watch batteries are there? Fearing a broken nail (which would have increased my exasperation), I stop. I lost hope in unhelpful lady and walked off in search of the toilet paper aisle muttering "This is ridiculous."

I'm usually kind of like 'whatever' about stuff like that, but this time, for some reason, a part of me rose up and wanted to go off on old girl (sans profanity) and demand justice. I felt a rare tide of ghettoness rising up in me. What? I know you ain't talkin to me like you crazy. GIMme that watch battery pop-off thing 'fore I pop off on yo' head, must be crazy talkin' 'bout some "We had this policy for a while" like you can't sell me no watch battery and I'm at Wal Mart. Ol' UNHELPFUL behind.

Though I walked away calmly muttering, deep down inside, there was a teeny-tiny Rumpelstiltskin-esque miniature me stamping her feet, throwing a tantrum, sobbing hysterically, "I WANT MY WATCH BATTERY!"

Okay, it's over. I can officially move on now.

The First Semester of Spanish Spanish Love Song

This semester I'm teaching Elementary Spanish II. Basically, the second half of the Elementary Spanish textbook. After going over the syllabus and going through all of the preliminaries yesterday, I played this youtube clip for my students before they left and said, "I hope you guys learned more your first semester of Spanish than this poor guy." If you've ever taken any Spanish, you will completely relate, because this is actually the kind of stuff you learn to say first starting out. It's HILARIOUS. And his awful prounciation makes it even funnier. My favorite line is when he sings, "No remembro how to say eleven." Enjoy!

Don Miller: Speaking Something into Nothing

So, I'll add this blog post to the litany of reasons I love Don Miller. Here's an excerpt from the post that spoke to me the most:

I often find myself thinking complaints about life, about business or politics or relationships. Anymore, though, when I complain, I am starting to realize that, in part, every ounce of nothingness in life is my fault, because I always have the ability to speak something into it, to create a different reality. A theory that life is meaningless is just an excuse not to try. It’s safe. It’s risk free. It may end in ruin, but it is a ruin we can control, and we know with certainty what will happen. We will be bored. Or worse.

Reading this is such an encouragment to me on the day I head back to Auburn. The day I resettle into my grad student life, rife with work and stress and wondering. But it could be a life of productivity, learning, discovery and opportunity. It all depends on how I choose to view it.

Despite my procrastinatory nature, getting work done has always happened for me. Making the grade, acing the test, all the nerdy brick and mortar things that go along with being successful in school have happened for me. But the hardest thing for me to do is to change the way I think. It's confounding that mindpower has been one of my greatest assets, but also one of my greatest limitations.

I realize that there are many circumstances beyond our control. But I'm tired of letting those things be my excuse to sit idly in resignation. I'm tired of letting them be my excuse to not even try. I can't_____, because I'll just end up being disappointed. That's garbage. Like Don Miller said, that type of thinking is safe and risk-free which = controllable and certain. Even if it sucks, it's a suckiness you're comfortable with. I don't want to be that way anymore.

I have the ability to speak something into nothing and to create a different reality.

New Year

2009. Newly waltzed into my life, ladened with great expectations, promising a sharper sense of direction, intoxicating all in its path with the romance of beginning. Of starting. Afresh. Anew.

Have you ever been presented with a word or a phrase or an image repeatedly in random contexts and wondered if there was any greater meaning behind it? Take, for instance, "argyle sweaters." The first time, I was laughing heartily at my having conjured the image of a leering old man donning an argyle sweater in my lament over attracting weirdos. Next, I was presented with a description of a college classmate wearing an argyle sweater in Barack Obama's memoir, Dreams from My Father. Then, a rather stylish lady from church comes over in a sweater quite similar to one I own, and even though the brand was different from mine, "It's the pattern," she said. "Argyle. It's that argyle pattern." Argyle. Why has the image of argyle sweaters dominated my mindscape lately? Is there some kind of cryptic, celestial, spiritual message behind which I will uncover my ultimate destiny? Must I crack the argyle sweater code to get a glimpse of what 2009 will bring?

I've settled on a New Year's Resolution. I used to be hardcore and would draw up a dutiful list, but in recent years, I've slimmed it down and turned the focus from checklist/task-oriented to big picture/state of mind-oriented.

I will trust God.

Simply put, yet deceptively difficult to do. Or is it actually deceptively simple? Why is it so hard to convince myself that God knows what He's doing? It seems like a no-brainer. Omnipresent, omniscient, omnipotent being versus a temporal conglomeration of cells. Which would you rather trust? Common sense says go for the being. But the conglomeration is exasperatingly stubborn.

Maybe this is it: I'm used to seeing Him through my life. Good things happen = Good God. Bad things happen = Mean God. I don't know what's happening = Silent God. I have to switch that around and starting seeing my life through Him.

I need God. I'm reminded daily in whispering ways of my insurmountable need for Him. My need for Him has never changed. But my point of view must.

Happy New Year, everyone!