That's my cap for my Masters graduation. "Why a palm tree?" you might ask. You will especially ask this if you heard the story of how much I am not a cruise or beach person, so since you asked (whether you did or not) I will tell the tale.
It all started about thirteen years ago in a little town called Ardmore. It was the day of my high school graduation and my friend Ashley had decorated her cap for graduation that evening. Hers was pretty and sparkly and said "gimp" as she was hobbling around following an injury during the senior powder puff football game. When I heard about this I thought "I need to decorate my cap too!" and after a quick thought I came to the idea of a palm tree. You see my high school show choir had just gotten back from a cruise on The Big Red Boat and our prom theme had even been "Bon Voyage" with a cruise ship in the background of our formal pictures. It seemed natural. So I grabbed some paper and markers and drew a palm tree, cut it out and taped it to my cap.
Then the drama unfolded.
I must say that I didn't feel too much of a closeness to my high school class through our four years at AHS, but that all changed the night of graduation. We bonded. We bonded over the ridiculous rules of our administration. Now I have to admit that I already had some "issues" with our current principal (who had taken over the position the second semester of my senior year), but we'll just leave it there.
We all walked in, Ashley and I were the only decorated caps. Our lovely former principal, who was now an assistant, pulls me into the office of the field house and explains that if I don't remove the palm tree from my cap I will not be allowed to walk.
SERIOUSLY?!?!?
This is MY high school graduation, not his, or the other principal's. They wanted to keep this ceremony very serious, I suppose. I guess it was supposed to reflect the maturity of the school and whatnot. Well, funny story, we might not have been a class that got along, but by gosh we came together that night to make our high school graduation memorable and very unique to us.
After he tells me to remove the palm tree (and wouldn't let me take it with me), in one of my more rebellious moments in high school, I slammed it on the desk, said "this is the biggest bunch of bullshit I've heard", and stormed out. Now I am not advocating that every high school senior does this, but I'm also hoping that the administration of your school respects you more than ours did and allows you to be individuals and take ownership of a ceremony that is meant to celebrate you.
After that I was furious, just as I had been many other times in the past. Luckily we had two pretty amazing teachers that calmed us all down. Ashley had to walk without a cap at all (since hers was done with glitter and paint), but Alex was the smartest of us all! He had a paint pen or a white out pen and as we were walking used it to write "#3" his class rank (he thought, along with most of the rest of us, that he would be valedictorian). Ah, we were a smart class and in the end we won.
Through the ceremony we also had four beach balls that were blown up and bounced around, one friend who got up in the middle of a forty five minute speaker's speech and started applauding, and a silly friend that danced across the stage and left the president of the school board with a perplexed look on his face. Overall it was probably my favorite memory of high school, so for that I'm glad. I'm glad that were able to come together against a common enemy. You might be reading this thinking that I'm crazy or at least disrespectful to authority, however I believe that in order to get respect you must first give it and the administration had little respect towards us through our four years at that school.
Now all of this being said, last year I was at Haley's convocation and saw all the caps that were decorated. That was when I got the idea to recreate the palm tree, only better! I spent ten months planning. The Friday before Graduation Gear Up I went and got the jewels. The first day of GGU I bought my cap and gown, pulled the cap from the plastic, found a palm tree in clip art, made it the right size and started laying out the beautiful jeweled palm tree above. I am quite proud of it, even though the cruise that I went on before graduation this year was kind of a bust, it was perfect. A lot of people figured I would have the New York City skyline or something of that nature, but what can I say? I hold a grudge.
Disclaimer: This post might not be appropriate for all audiences...proceed with caution. And if you do read it and don't like it don't say you weren't warned! :)
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Last Friday night I had a little girls night in the pool with my friends Kristin and Becky (with Travis crashing later in the evening). Becky's birthday was on Sunday and she had gotten NKOTBSB (New Kids on the Block/Backstreet Boys) tickets for the night of her birthday. I commented that I wished I had gotten tickets to which Becky said, come with us and we'll find tickets! So that was the plan.
Now I have a long history with New Kids on the Block. It goes back to age 8 in the third grade. Obsessed might not be a strong enough word to describe how I felt about NKOTB. I had tshirts and buttons and dolls and fashion plates and even a sheets and comforter set (to this day I cannot believe my parents actually bought these). My best friend in third grade, Kristin (a different one :)), and I dressed in our NKOTB "ensembles" every Tuesday. Down to the earrings we matched (except for my Donnie stuff and her Joey stuff).
I remember when my mom surprised me with the "Remix" album one Friday after school at my friend Lindsey's house. I was so excited I dropped it and broke the tape box.
In fourth grade my mom and my friend Meredith's mom got us tickets to the show in Oklahoma City. I don't remember a lot about the show, but we had really high seats, so they were itty bitty. Nonetheless they were fabulous.
My freshman year of college during Christmas break my best friend Crystal and I decided we were old (you know we were the ripe, old age of eighteen). We found an old NKOTB concert video and proceeded to sing the entire thing over and over. We then went to Hastings and bought a few used cds.
At the end of college some friends came up from Austin and we came up with an "Austin Soundtrack" and Hangin' Tough was on that (I'm sure there were more reasons, but I don't quite remember them).
Overall New Kids on the Block were a large part of my childhood and kind of define our generation. And onto Backstreet Boys. That was high school. I hear those songs and think about Heather's house and boyfriends and tanning at Tropical Tans and TRL and Haley. All kinds of fun memories.
So that is my NKOTBSB history. Now onto the concert!
Becky and Leah picked me up around 4:30 and to Tulsa we went. I had skipped lunch so stopping for food was must. Becky asked what we wanted and I said "this may sound silly, but can we get McDonald's because the first time I saw NKOTB we got McDonald's and it was the first time I ever had fries and sweet and sour sauce." So we did!
I made a NKOTB/BSB birthday mix CD for Becky since it was her birthday and it started with this:
We rocked out to the classics to Tulsa. I learned something new about my friend Becky that day: she has a bit of road rage. :) We had to go to Owasso first to pick up there tickets and then headed to BOK. We attempted to park and ended up a little close for Becky's big ol' car, so this is how she got out:
(and yes that is the shirt she made that said "I heart NKOTB" on the front and "birthday girl" with a 30 on it on the back...fabulous)
The next step was to find me a ticket, since I didn't have one. We ended up buying a pair and then sold the other one:
Not the best seat in the world, but for not having a ticket until 10 minutes before the show I would say we did quite well! I also made friends with (aka got molested by) a lovely drunk lady next to me. When the show started it didn't matter though.
There was some band that opened the show. We missed them. Oh well. I made it to my seat and there was a video commercial with Matthew Morrison and Jane Lynch from Glee. I didn't think much of it until I heard the first notes of "Sway." To say I freaked out might be an understatement. Matthew Morrison was opening. He is a beautiful, beautiful man with a beautiful voice and beautiful dance abilities. I was great at this point WITHOUT NKOTBSB. If you remember correctly he was mentioned here as one of my celebrity crushes. He was AMAZING. He's a singer, actor and dancer and his last song was called Keep on Dancing and was dedicated to his three idols: Gene Kelly, Patrick Swayze and Michael Jackson. The end of the song was a dance break where he did a Gene Kelly routine, the famous last dance from Dirty Dancing and all of MJ's classic moves. It was FABULOUS. I really could have stopped the concert there and been good, ah, but it didn't. Here is MM:
And the real show started. To say it was fabulous, wonderful, amazing, breathtaking and all of those words would be an understatement. All nine guys came out (Kevin from BSB didn't want to play...oh well). From a technical standpoint it was amazing. They performed together and then NKOTB performed, then the lights went out and BSB came out, then the lights went out and NKOTB was back. It was fabulous. The transitions were flawless. The lighting was amazing. My tech nerdness totally came out and I loved it.
So back to the men. Oh the men. I don't really care if most of the members of NKOTB are over 40, all I can say is: DAMN. Let's just say the concert was aimed towards their original fans (anywhere from age 22-40ish). There was a lot of, shall we say "sexual content" (pelvis thrusting, hips gyrating, crotch grabbing, cameras on previously mentioned crotches). It was, well, in a word: FABULOUS.
Donnie was my favorite. As I grew up and realized he was the "bad boy" I thought maybe I should have liked Jordan or Joey because they were the "cute" ones, but Donnie was it for me. Can I just say Donnie Wahlberg is the sexiest man on the planet? Yeah he is. Even Becky, who was die hard for Joey, admitted the sexiness of the Donnie.
They did all the fabulous songs from my childhood and we all danced and sang. One thing that was a bit different was the "bedazzled" nature of the clothing. I'm pretty sure several bedazzlers were killed in the making of the tour. The last song NKOTB did was Hangin' Tough (I could talk about all the songs, but I'll spare you). They came out in bedazzled Celtics jerseys (oh THAT's why I've always loved the Celtics, now I remember...I may even turn into a Red Sox fan for this). Then BSB came out in bedazzled Orlando Magic jerseys. It was amazing and I really can't say enough wonderful things about it.
At the end of the show we got back in the car (gushing about the sexiness of Donnie Wahlberg...who cares if he is almost 42, and yes after 20+ years I remembered his birthday without looking it up...wow). We then decided we needed to find the after party (because my friends that went in Dallas either ended up at the after party with Mr. Wahlberg or on his tour bus). So we drove around Tulsa looking and ended up back at the back of BOK where the buses were. Then a couple of vans pulled out and I saw a red and white trucker hat. I KNEW it was Donnie (my psychic connection from when I was eight came out, I guess). We tried to back out to follow them (yeah, we're nuts), but we lost them.
Then Twitter came into play and I started following them all and found out that he had gone to the airport to head out because he was filming the second season of Blue Bloods early the next morning. :( We were sad.
We headed back to Norman talking the entire way about the fabulous time we had just had. It was a fabulous, fabulous time and Becky is my new most favorite person in the world for making me go!
Now the goods, here are some pics from the show:
precious Joey
Jordan singing
Please, don't go, girl...you will ruin my whole world
and the sexy, sexy man himself
It was amazing. Really it way. You may think I'm nuts, but it was. There is just this wonderful thing about reliving your childhood. When we got back I did feel kind of sad. There is a good chance this is the last time I'll ever see them live (well, not if Becky has any say in it...we're going to be groupies!). Just another piece of growing up. It was a fabulous way to celebrate Becky's 30th birthday and to kick of my birthday season.
PS
The name for this post because one of my friends asked me how they aged and I said "like a fine, fine wine" (maybe I should have said a fine, fine, sexy wine!).
As a general rule I don't go too far into Christianity on my blog. I could probably name 100 reasons why (which I won't right now). I am a Christian and that is a fact that I am proud of. I am very sure in my faith, even if I don't spout out verses on facebook every day (not that there is anything wrong with that, just not my style). I am very active with my church (CrossTimbers UMC, you should come try it because it really is the best!). I will probably be the first to invite you to church because I really think it is that great (because it is).
I did not grow up going to church besides the occasional visit on Easter or with a friend, VBS at a few churches most summers and two trips to Falls Creek. It wasn't until my senior year of high school when I went with my two best friends on a random Sunday (and I'm pretty sure it was because two of the three of us felt guilty for something). After church we had lunch at El Chico and ran into our music teacher (my, now, dear friend Lisa) and she said we should come to youth choir at the Methodist church (Crystal regularly went and Heather and I are not going to be winning any talent shows with our singing ability). We went, then we went to youth afterwards. I had been to youth there a few times with Crystal, whose early high school boyfriend was a member. Clearly I loved youth choir because it was Lisa and it never failed, any time I showed up at youth it was some super serious event usually involving the lights being off and candles. That night was the exact same, specifically a feet washing thing. I spent the evening in a room with one of my childhood guy friends talking about God and life and faith and stuff. We were seventeen.
From that night I went to choir and youth every week (if we had perfect choir attendance we were going to see Jekyll and Hyde in Dallas two months later!). We had our first performance at church a few weeks later. We sang a song called "Beyond the Open Door." Until I got to this point in the post I had not heard that song since that day, but I wanted to include a video, so I looked it up and through the marvel that is the internet found it and listened to it again and it was a really, really, really, really fitting song to be the first song I sang in church.
We stayed for most of the service before heading out to Crystal's church. I really enjoyed the service. Kind of surprising for someone who didn't go to church. So the next week instead of going with Heather and Crystal to the Baptist church I went to Sunday school and church at the Methodist church. Don't get me wrong I had a ton of friends there and was making more every week, so it wasn't the craziest thing ever and my friend Katy's dad was the pastor. On the sign in book it asks if you are interested in becoming a member and one week I checked yes. I got a call from the associate pastor and little did I know everything was all kinds of set up for me to join! Before the conversation was over I learned that Katy had already offered to sponsor me! I think it was the next week I joined the church and was baptized (by sprinkling, because one of my issues with the Baptist church my whole life was the submersion process in baptism...it scared the living daylights out of me and I wanted nothing to do with it. To be honest it still freaks me out to think about).
So now I was a full blown Methodist. The summer was spent with all my new (and old) friends at FUMC Ardmore, then going to Chrysalis (which is a story for another post) and some stuff after that and then I headed to college. It was a given that I would go to the Wesley Foundation (United Methodist student center) and I did. I made a lot of friends and got involved very quickly in a Christian sorority, two Bible studies, the freshman group and freshman leadership.
I won't go into all the memories and events from Wesley. There were a lot of friends made and even more lessons learned. I graduated college in 2004 and didn't really have a church home. I had on and off gone with my friend Sarah to a new church in Norman, but it didn't completely stick. In September I started dating a guy at home, so I was all about going home to church any time I could. I love my home church and I still do. The friends that I had in youth morphed into adult friends and I loved seeing them every week. Most were in the choir and I enjoyed going to performances and was very sad that I was in Norman and they were in Ardmore. It was this amazing little group and I so wanted to be a part of it full time and not just part time. At that moment in time I truly thought that I would marry this guy and life would be complete, with me in Ardmore and being a part of that group.
God had other plans. Some stuff happened within that group of friends and then we broke up, again, in May and I started dating someone else, in Norman. When that happened I wanted nothing to do with Ardmore. All the activities that the ex and I had shared interest in were immediately out of my life. I wanted nothing to do with them. I wanted to start this new life in Norman, where I knew my home would be.
My boyfriend and I tried to find a church. We would get into a church mood and try to find something that we agreed on (he was Baptist, me Methodist), but it would last a few weeks and we would stop going for this reason or that reason. I tried, a lot, but nothing ever stuck. That was the first year. Another problem is that I am stubborn. I wanted to go to a Methodist church because I love it. I love the doctrine and the way the conference is set up and the camps and the liturgy and the hymns and everything about it. Hindsight is 20/20 and I probably should have been a little more open minded, but I wasn't.
After we got engaged I met this very nice girl at work and asked why she had moved to Norman (Moore) from Tishomingo. She explained that her husband was asked to start a church, a United Methodist church. Well hot dog! Here was something that we could be a part of from the beginning. Apparently my stubbornness had rubbed off on the fiance and he wasn't having it, however I ended up on the mailing list for "new Moore church" (which is what CrossTimbers was before it was CrossTimbers). Jennifer had applied for several jobs and was offered one a few weeks into her job with me that worked better with her desire to get her Masters, so she left. We were friends on facebook though so we kept in contact, plus I was getting all the church emails.
The next six months were not the best of my life, but they are a very important part of it. If you have been reading my blog for any time you know that we broke up 41 days before the wedding, leaving me sad and broken. At some point during that six months I had watched Fireproof (Christian movie with Kirk Cameron and really bad acting, but a really good story). In the movie the premise is based on a relationship that is in crisis and likely to end in divorce. The main character is challenged to do the Love Dare, a relationship exercise that lasts 40 days and is based on 1 Corinthians 13.
When I woke up the morning after the break up I just KNEW that God wanted me to do the Love Dare. After all it was exactly 40 days until the wedding, so it made perfect sense. I knew that God was a key component that was missing from that relationship and I figured this was His way of telling me that and showing me how to fix it (oh and I am a fixer). So I started it. What came out of it was not us getting back together, but a huge change in me.
Shortly after the break up I messaged Jennifer with what had happened and asking if CrossTimbers (had a name by then!) had anything going on. There was one small group meeting and it wasn't anything I was interested in (again, hindsight is 20/20 and I SO should have jumped on board that one, but oh well, I still needed some time and to learn a few lessons). That was the middle of May. The first Sunday in August was my birthday and it was not a good day, at all. It also happened to be the second to last Sunday that CrossTimbers was meeting in the school where they had been conducting services. They had a building! She invited me to the last Sunday.
The day before that last Sunday the women's group, Breathe, was meeting. Some stuff happened that day that signaled I needed a change. We were supposed to RSVP to the pastor, so I did. Now this is a HUGE thing for me. I HATE calling people. And I really hate calling people I don't know. I don't really like talking on the phone to people I do know. So I called Chris, who probably thought I was nuts at the moment, and who told Jennifer that her friend Wendy from her first Norman job was coming to Breathe that night.
The plan was to make tshirts at one of the girl's houses. Dinner was provided, but we were asked to bring dessert. I whipped up some no bake cookies, because really who doesn't like them? I found the house and drove around until I saw Jennifer's car pull up (I also hate going in places where I don't know people). I met Jennifer in the yard and walked in with her. Well it turns out that I loved the girls. The guys met up with us at the end of the night and they seemed okay too.
The next morning I walked into the school, in a dress, and sat down next to one of the girls I met the night before, whose husband played the drums. Then in walked Valerie and Ashley (JJ's parents) and they came and sat with me. If you ever need someone to make new people feel welcome Valerie is the person. She just loves making new friends. I looked around and noticed I was pretty much the only one in a dress (except, thank God, for Brittany). Then the music started. I have already mentioned drums, there were also electric guitars, not an organ in sight. A bit about me, at that moment, I was NOT a fan of contemporary worship. I like it, but NOT for Sunday morning. Clearly I couldn't just get up and walk out and I was so disappointed because I really liked all the girls I met the night before. I was in a pickle. I just didn't think I could handle this contemporary church, what to do, what to do?
Then Chris did his sermon. It was the second Sunday of the text message sermon series. We got our phones out and looked though our texts and what they said about us and who we were talking to. Well if THAT didn't make me question things then I don't know what would (some of the people I was talking to at the time I should NOT have been talking to). I was so intrigued by his sermon. At the end of service I told Jennifer that exact thing: that at the beginning I didn't think there was any way I could handle contemporary and I fully planned to thank them for their time and never walk back through the doors, but then Chris did his sermon and I was hooked.
If you want to hear what I really thought check out this video from Annual Conference 2010.
When a church meets in a school it means that everything starts in a couple of trailers, is unloaded each Sunday morning, set up, then torn down, and put back in the trailers. Well this Sunday was different because it was going to be torn down, loaded up and then taken to the new building. I didn't have anything better to do so I helped them load up and move to the new building. On my way over I called my friend Mary and told her that I had gone to this new church and I really liked it, but I wasn't going to get super, over involved (because I have a tendency to do that).
I helped unload and was pretty excited about the next Sunday. So....I wasn't going to get over involved? Sunday number two of Wendy at CrossTimbers I talked to Jennifer about starting a prayer card ministry (something my friends and I did at Wesley in college).
Yeah you can pretty much say that was history. I didn't have a prayer of not getting super, over involved. It's just who I am. Oh well. When it comes down to it I do love it. It is very rare for a sermon to be preached that doesn't hit me in some way. I can't count how many times I left church thinking about a sermon and driving and bawling for hours after. Or crying through a song during communion. There is something very, very special about that place. I love the people and the service (I got over my hatred of contemporary service and you can read about that here) and absolutely everything about it. It is an amazing community of amazing people, most of whom are family now. I know that if something happens in the middle of the night I can call Chris bawling and he will be there (though I generally schedule my meltdowns a bit better than that ;)). I have people that call just to check on me and worry about me. I have amazing people that have let me into their families when I really need that.
We come together in joy celebrating weddings and new babies. We are there for each other when things aren't going so well. We come together to support each other. We are learning and growing with this little church.
Today I got a call that rocked my world. It left me in shock and sadness. It is the kind of thing that makes you really question what on earth God is thinking. Yesterday I was struck with the sadness of poor little Jamesie and this one isn't any better. It is another child taken entirely too early.
Through the last two years I have grown immensely in my faith. I may have questioned God's intentions when my wedding was cancelled, but I am completely confident that it was the right thing. I know that everything had to happen exactly the way that it did in order to get me to my ultimate calling. I know my purpose in life. I know what I am meant to do. I am only 29 (at least for a few more weeks) and I know exactly what I was put on this earth to do. If everything hadn't happened the exact way that it did then I wouldn't be here.
I know that these two families that are grieving right now will eventually understand God's plan and why it had to happen the way that it did. I know that and I fully believe that. But even as strong as I am and as much faith as I have I don't understand this. I don't understand why people get so sick and I really don't understand when they are just innocent children. I don't get it. I probably never will. My heart absolutely aches for these families. I don't have any comprehension of how they are handling things right now because it is so far outside of my realm of reality.
Yesterday my sweet friend Karen Chaffin (an Ardmore FUMC friend and mom of two of my high school friends) posted this on her facebook:
I've never forgotten being told that God doesn't give you the ticket for the train until it's time to take a ride. Grace is given as grace is needed. Lysa TerKeurst posted: I am not equipped to handle what others have—both good and bad. I am, on the other hand, completely equipped to handle what I’ve been given. And the more time I spend being thankful for my life, the less I look around wishing for something else.
I cannot imagine a post that could be any more true for what I am feeling right now. I cannot imagine going through the things that these families are going through and I pray that I will never have to, I'm strong, but I don't think there is any way I could ever be that strong. I am aching for people that I don't know and for events that did not directly affect me and I am handling it horribly.
When I have to step up to do things in these situations it is very rare for anyone to see how it is affecting me. I don't cry at funerals. I am the strong one. I have been known to tell people that if they need someone to go to a funeral with them then call me. Death doesn't bother me. Well it bothers me, of course, but I can handle it very well. I have always understood death. Long before developmentally and psychologically I was supposed to. That's how I've always been. Need a meal? I'll cook it. Need a lunch planned? I'm your girl. Need someone to hold your hand while you cry? That's me. I am afraid my track record for this is about to be broken. Honestly I don't know what is going to happen in the next few weeks and I don't know how I will handle it. I fully believe God doesn't give us anything that we can't handle (though sometimes I really wish He didn't trust me so much), but this may be a true test to my faith and my ability to keep it together.
Please say a prayer for these two sweet families. I apologize for not giving details, but it is not my place to do so at this time. You can say a prayer and I promise God knows all the details. Selfishly I also ask that you say a prayer for me in some situations that I will face over the next few weeks. Pray that I am able to be strong for the people that need me.
I just read the most recent post on Jamesie's blog and cannot stop crying. I cannot imagine what they are going through. I can literally feel my heart breaking for them. I want to feel lucky for everything I have in my life, but I am so overcome with emotion for the people that I know are hurting right now that even that is hard to do. Usually when I write it is to release emotion and when I go back and read it I can see how far I have come and it makes me happy. This post is different. This one is full of grief and sadness and emotions that I don't even really understand. I pray for a miracle. That is still possible for one family. Medical science says it is impossible, but nothing is impossible with God. For the other family I pray for peace and healing. I pray that all that know or have been touched by both situations will know peace and comfort. I'm not really to a stopping point, but it is getting very hard to see the computer screen through the tears, so I will end with this:
Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.
Clearly I am referring to where I was when the bombing at the Murrah building. It was a Wednesday.
That Friday my mom and I went to Oklahoma City for the weekend because I was performing at the National Cowboy Hall of Fame. I remember being at dinner on 63rd and watching the death toll rising.
Who can forget the Pulitzer Prize winning photographer of firefighter Chris Fields carrying out poor little Baylee Almon? Can you believe that she would be driving now if this atrocity had not happened? Thinking about which colleges to go to. Planning for prom. The bombing happened the day after her first birthday. Do you think they had her party planned for the following Saturday?
Can you even begin to imagine being excited for your baby girl's first birthday party and then lose her a few days before? I think as I reflect on this, with as much desire as I have to be a mother, it is harder to get a grasp of the evil that plotted and executed this act.
As the years passed after the bombing I have as many memories.
My sophomore year Mark Medoff premiered a play at Ardmore Little Theatre: A Christmas Carousel. The story, based on Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, centered around the bombing, with Scrooge played by woman, specifically played by deaf actress Phyllis Frelich. This was when my interest in American Sign Language returned (I've always loved ASL and can remember an interest since I was little). The show was amazing.
Three years later, my freshman year in college, I was part of the theatre department (albeit just by taking a Stage Crafts class with a professor that wanted to prove the point that non majors could be an asset to the department) and they were doing A Christmas Carousel, again with Phyllis starring. The show had changed some in the three years since it premiered in Ardmore, but it had only gotten better. The scenery was very simple, designed by Phyllis' husband, and the infamous fence was a part of it. I was honored to be the assistant stage manager for this amazing show. The show is written in an amazing way where the entire show is spoken and signed simultaneously. One of the most awe inspiring moments was that the ghost of Christmas past looks at Scrooge and says "9:02 that morning...boom", one night during a dress rehearsal we looked down and it was 9:02 pm. It happened like that every night.
That semester I was also taking an architecture class (yeah I was a little major challenged that semester). We were honored to have Torrey Butzer, the wife of the husband and wife team that designed the memorial. We got to see all her sketches. I still remember President Clinton dedicating the memorial on April 19, 2000.
I remember going to Mexico with friends in high school and some of the locals in the market asking where we were from. When we responded Oklahoma they said "ah yes, Oklahoma, big boom."
I am sad that my state is remembered by many only by this act of evil, as we have a lot more to offer, however I am proud of the way our state pulled together for one another following this disaster. I am proud to be an Oklahoman on this day more than any other.
Two friends posted this on facebook today, and I have to share it as well. President Clinton said this April 23, 1995:
"If anybody thinks that Americans are mostly mean and selfish, they ought to come to Oklahoma. If anybody thinks Americans have lost the capacity for love and caring and courage, they ought to come to Oklahoma."
I know my children will ask where I was when April 19 happened.
Eighth grade, English I, Mrs. Graham's class.
Those of us that remember are a part of history. Like those that can answer "where were you when Pearl Harbor happened" or "where were you when Kennedy was shot," we are a part of history. It is crazy to think of how many people I know that weren't even born when this happened and how many don't remember it because they were too young.
If you have never been to the memorial you should go, it truly is one of the most powerful places ever. If you can talk to someone who worked on the site, listen to their story.
When I was in New York a few weeks ago we went and saw Promises, Promises. This was an awesome show. Basic storyline is this: boy works with girl, girl doesn’t know his name, boy falls for girl, boy rents out apartment to married coworkers to have affairs, boy’s boss finds out and wants “in”, boy realizes that boss is having an affair with girl, girl gets heart broken, but then realizes that boy is much nicer than boss and all live happily ever after (except maybe the boss because his wife kicks him out and his girlfriend won’t give him the time of day!). In the show is a song called “I’ll Never Fall In Love Again.” I have somewhat become obsessed with this song (as I have a tendency to do when I find a song that I like).
Here is a selection of the lyrics:
What do you get when you give your heart
You get it all broken up and battered
That's what you get, a heart that's shattered
I'll never fall in love again
Don't tell me what it's all about
'Cause I've been there and I'm glad I'm out
Out of those chains those chains that bind you
That is why I'm here to remind you
I'll never fall in love again
So this has gotten me thinking about this phrase “fall in love.” Let’s dissect this a bit. The first word is “fall” as in face first, crazy stupid, over the top, ridiculous, liking a person way too much when you hardly know them. Then you have “in love.” When you put them together they lead to the idea of becoming in love very quickly. How can you, when you hardly know someone, “fall” in love with them? I am a hopeless romantic, self proclaimed, but really? I love watching sappy movies and reading chick lit where the couple fall head over heels on the first date and it’s fate and then they live happily ever after. I love that, really I do, but I know it’s not lasting. You will notice that it is very rare that we see what happens after that "fall in love" moment.
To really be in love with someone is to get to know them, to build trust and respect for them and let those feelings turn into that emotion that we all love to love: love. So many times you meet someone and you decide that he or she must be “the one.” Now, let us take a moment to look at “the one.” Do I believe that there is someone out there that we are all meant to be with? Well yes, I do, but, just a note, I also believe everything is predestined and in fate and signs all that stuff, so yeah, in the end I think there is “the one.” Do I think that we necessarily know that the person we are with is “the one”? Absolutely not. What if, I fall madly in love with some guy, we’re together for 25 years, he dies, I grieve and then fall in love with someone else? Which one was “the one”?
Do I sound cynical yet? Probably, but I’m not, really, I'm not. I am truly optimistic about love and relationships. I have had my fair share of relationships where it has seemed that the stars have aligned and all the signs are there and clearly, finally, fate has stepped in and given me that chick flick of a love life that we all want. You know what happened with those relationships? They sucked. Of course not the whole time, but in the end they were not healthy relationships that I should have stayed in. Thank the Lord they ended when they did.
That being said, do I regret them? Heavens no! Those relationships have all put me in a place where I really think I can be in a healthy relationship, in the future. Is right now the right time for me to be in a relationship? Clearly not, because I’m not in one! Could tomorrow be the right time for me? Sure. We’ll see, time will tell, and as psychic as I claim to be I cannot predict the future, so I have no idea when this will happen.
Now, what do I want in a relationship? Do I want to cosmos to align and the fates to bring a great guy to me in a way that Reese Witherspoon, when she is playing me in the movie version, would be proud to love? Honestly, no. When the time is right, whether that is in the next 24 hours or the next 24 years, I want to find someone that I can be totally myself with, that will not “fall” in love with me. I want to get to know a man, and him get to know me. At the end of the day I want him to realize that before he falls asleep he wants to talk to me, and only me; and I want to feel the same way. I want him to sit back and think: I really want to spend time with her, I have fun with her, I enjoy talking to her. That is where a relationship needs to start.I don't want someone that from a first date is planning the rest of our lives together (and I'm pretty sure no guy wants that either). I want it to progress naturally; in its own time. I want to have fun, be honest, learn to respect each other, and as we are getting to know each other have a relationship that grows into love. I have no desire to “fall” in love. I want to gradually ease myself into love, not fall. Falling hurts. Let me give you an example:
The year was 2003. I was 22 and in my second senior year of college (I got to the end of my first senior year with all the requirements to graduate, but wasn’t quite ready for the “real world” so I decided to take a victory lap and get another full degree, so I have two full Bachelor’s, enough justification, back to the story). My best friend, Melinda, and I were going to OU/TX; which in general is a very crazy weekend. I had sold my ticket, so we could drink through the game. Very long story very short, we started drinking in Ardmore , had around 10 drinks (including going through the “beer-through” in Gainesville ) and by the time we got to the friend’s house we were staying at we were a little, well, tipsy...and she had margaritas waiting on us. After Melinda spilled the margaritas and sucked the alcohol off the counter with a straw (now that’s a funny picture), we went to the West End; to Dick’s Last Resort. And I drank more (dumb), but eventually realized that I needed to be cut off, so I cut myself off. The next part of the story I have just pieced together (large amounts of alcohol to blame), but I remember it had been raining and I was wearing flip flops. The next thing I remember is the nice police officer asking if I need an ambulance, me saying no and then picking up my tooth (front one, of course) and putting it in my purse. Here is what I think happened: I was walking, slid on the wet sidewalk in my flip flops and crashed my face into one of those huge concrete light posts, thus breaking my front tooth out. Ouch! (Well not really ouch, I was so drunk that I didn’t feel a thing, nor do I remember this particular five minute span, no matter how hard I try!) The next part of the story I was hysterically crying and then spent the game, drinking beer through a straw at a bar.
Needless to say I don’t like falling. Falling is all the same. If you are careless about it the next thing you know you are going to black out, not know what happened and wake up with something broken and in a lot of pain. How many times have we looked at something that seems like such a good idea (like that six pack at the “beer-through” in Gainesville ), but you just end up getting hurt? Falling in love is no different.
After this happened did I stop drinking? Well of course not. Immediately following, I just drank beer through a straw because the cold beer hurt the exposed nerves. Was I more careful when I drank after that? Sometimes yes, sometimes not so much. Do I look back and regret that? No, because it is a really funny story to tell from college. I do try to be a little more careful, at least when wearing flip flops and drinking.
Love is the same way. I have fallen, to the point of figuratively crashing my face into concrete, and I have gotten hurt and had my heart broken. Do I want to do it again? Of course I do! Who doesn’t like the feeling of being in love? Simply, though, I want to gradually ease myself down that road rather than falling into it. After the fall I had to use that straw, even with beer (and yes I looked silly), but the nerves were exposed and I didn't want to cause myself anymore pain. I think in relationships we should do that too: use something as a buffer to keep ourselves from getting hurt when we hardly know someone, sip on love instead of chugging it. Whether that is taking a budding relationship slowly or dating several people at the same time, we can use these as ways to realize who it is we want to win out at the end of the day.
The time will come again for me to be in love. Maybe it will be with someone that I have known forever. Maybe it will be someone with that I have never seen before. Maybe it will even be with someone that I have met recently. I just don’t know yet. I do, however, know that when it happens it will be amazing and I’m excited for that. For the time being, though, I am just living and enjoying life, sipping through a straw, and not wearing flip flops when it rains.
Today I went to the celebration of the life of Soroosh Davani. Soroosh passed away on Christmas day and was the loving husband of one of my college friends, Rosemary. He courageously fought cancer and in his words: "I did not lose my battle with cancer. I won my battle with life by living my life to the fullest."
My first memory of Soroosh had nothing to do with him at all, actually. My freshman year of college I pledged a Christian sorority, Kappa Phi, and one of our first activities was a progressive dinner. One of our stops was Rosemary's apartment. She had this beautiful table scape (on the floor :)) with beautiful linens and dishes (not your typical paper plates) and had all this amazing food, specifically, tabouli and hummus. I grew up going to Jamil's Steakhouse in Tulsa, a steakhouse that also served classic Lebanese food, so I was in heaven with this stuff! Rosemary explained that she had learned the recipes from her boyfriend's mom. When I told my mom about all of this she said I needed to make friends with this girl to learn how to cook this amazing food!
My next memory, and the first of Soroosh himself, was at our Hayride a few weeks later. In walks this couple. The best word I can use to describe them was dashing! They were beautiful! They certainly did not look like they belonged in Norman, Oklahoma; maybe at some fashion show in New York or LA, but not anywhere that I was, for sure! They both had on long leather coats and at least one of them had a fancy hat on. They were just beautiful. I remember seeing them, with my eyes wide open, thinking that there was no way this fancy couple would ever be people I could be friends with; they were just way too sophisticated for this small town girl.
Well this would be an example where first impressions are not always correct. Rosemary and Soroosh were certainly as beautiful and sophisticated as they seemed, but as I got to know them I learned that they were also two of the nicest, most genuine loving people I have, to this day, ever met. It was so easy to see how much they loved each other, even as young as we were (though they never seemed as young as me because they just carried themselves with such maturity).
One of the most interesting things about them is their religion. As previously mentioned, Kappa Phi was a Christian sorority and Rosemary was devoutly Catholic. Soroosh was Muslim. When I have told people about them, in the last week two weeks and since I've known them, people always question how on earth this worked. Both were very strong in their faith, but they had such a respect for each other and each other's faith that it just worked. I know many, many couples that are of the exact same faith that couldn't get it together like Rosemary and Soroosh! They were truly perfectly matched soulmates that were lucky enough to find each other.
I lost track of them for several years in there and then found her on facebook a few years ago, after his diagnosis. I was shocked when I saw it. She sent me a message with the story and it just made me so sad. They married in 2006, after he finished law school and were living in Arizona. It just seemed so unfair. They were beautiful, both inside and out, and had their entire life ahead of them, and then were struck down with this horrible disease. It makes you really step back and think. It makes you think about your own life and mortality and what all we can do with our lives.
His celebration of life, the Norman version, was today. I really hoped to not cry, but I did. Heck, I cry at everything. I would like to think that these were tears of joy knowing that I was lucky to enough to have known this great man; and knowing that I am lucky enough to consider this beautiful, strong, amazing woman a friend and sister.
There were two passages that were said today that really stuck out to me. One was by a deacon from Rosemary's church. I don't have the exact passage, but I'll paraphrase.
A man was at the point in his life when he was to die. He began asking those around him who would go with him. His wife and children said they could not. His friends said they could not. The grain of the field that he worked could not. When he was buried and went to heaven all that went with him were his actions, who gladly made the trip.
Wow. That was really powerful to me. It reminded me of a quote by one of my favorite people, Grace Kelly:
I would like to be remembered as someone who accomplished useful deeds, and who was a kind and loving person. I would like to leave the memory of a human being with a correct attitude and who did her best to help others.
I pray that I can be that person. I know that watching Rosemary and Soroosh, when I was around them and watching their journey on facebook, certainly has made me a better person. Rosemary attributes her strength to lessons she learned from Soroosh, but I think, while that is true, she is also one of the strongest people I have ever had the pleasure of being around and that strength comes from inside her. She shows that strength to everyone that she encounters and will continue to share that strength for the rest of her life.
The second quote that was shared was by Robert Frost:
Happiness makes up in height for what it lacks in length.
Well isn't that certainly true? I pray that I can find a love and have a relationship that is half as happy and filled with love as the one that I was so privileged to witness in Rosemary and Soroosh.
If you are someone who prays please keep Rosemary and Soroosh's family in your prayers in the next few days, weeks and months. They are amazing people, but a few extra prayers for strength has never hurt anyone.
I leave you with a photograph of the happy couple from our college days, at some fun Kappa Phi dance. They are smiling and happy, which is how I will always remember them.
I had a big research paper due yesterday which took all my writing ability! I'll try to catch up three days today!
Two may talk together under the same roof for many years, yet never really meet; and two others at first speech are old friends. ~ Mary Catherwood
Perfect quote to describe this friend. In fact my senior year of college at the Wesley Foundation retreat she came up to me (we'd known each other about a month) and said "Just so you know we have the same personality." My initial thought was: "Dear God, there's two of me!" This thought both terrified and excited me.
It was pretty much from that moment that we were the best of friends. There is something about having a friend that completely and totally understands how you think. She and I can go for days, weeks, months and it seems like we just talked.
One of the funny parts of our friendship is the path that both of our lives have taken. We were both political science majors in college and both planned to go to law school. I think we both would have been great at it too, but alas it did not happen and thank goodness! She had a stint in youth ministry and though I'm pretty sure that I said I never would I know find myself as a leader of the youth group at my church now. I worked with underprivileged people which has turned into the passion that is driving what I want to do with my life. She is currently working with underprivileged and at risk teenagers.
Our lives seem to mirror one another, though sometimes (most times really) I think she figures it out before I do!
I am super excited that she is coming to spend the weekend after her birthday with me next week!
What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies. ~Aristotle
My first victim, er, friend and I have been friends for 18 years. We had six of eight classes together in sixth grade, but that's not where we bonded. Our bond came at the YWCA Charm School that fall. I guess we realized that we had classes together and that Charm School was kind of silly (though quite entertaining and fun at the end when we got to be in a fashion show!).
To say we've been through a lot together is a drastic understatement. There have been times in our friendship that we have not been the best of friends. I think she and I had some competitiveness when we were in high school. Many times it was over other friends and who was closer to this person or that person. She introduced me to one of the biggest thorns in my side (who has stayed that way for about fifteen years, though I wouldn't trade it for anything!). We went through destructive habits together: bad relationships, stupid fad diets, really bad clothing!
We went on vacations together, I spent more time at her house than mine most summers, we got into trouble together (Mrs. Patman's Latin class and the band room and that one time we went to the lake with boys without telling my parents!). I think in many ways our friendship is more like sisters than it is of friends (neither of us having a sister). When we would spend too much time together we would have to be away from each other and wind down and then would go right back to normal. There are many things that she introduced me to and many things I introduced her to; some good, some bad!
Freshman year we went to different schools. By different I mean huge rivals. Her family would always jest at my allegiance to OU (they still do actually!) which is just a normal part of our banter. Growing up her family was an extension of my own family. During the second semester of our freshman year we were working a Chrysalis weekend and I met a boy (don't most hugely dramatic tales begin with "there was this guy..."). He was a nice boy, I thought. She'd known him for some time. We dated for a week! (Huge monumental relationship, huh? :) It actually really was...I'm quite certain he will come up in later chapters!) Then we broke up the next weekend. I was devastated (I look back now and I'm not quite sure why). At any rate something happened and being the overly emotional person that I am my feelings got hurt. Clearly it wasn't that big of a deal as I cannot recall the exact events, though I know it had to do with that boy. We did not talk for a few months.
Somewhere after that we made amends, probably without actually saying anything, that's just how things go. Sophomore year she joined a sorority and I discovered football. I had my friends, she had her friends and we didn't talk as much as before; nothing was wrong, we were both just busy. The summer after junior year we were in a play together in Ardmore (well she was IN the play and I worked the play backstage) and I guess we connected. The third of our threesome of best friends got married that summer and there was a reconnection for all of us. When we got back to school it was much the same as it had been: both busy with separate lives.
She graduated the December after we were "supposed" to graduate (I took the five year plan and graduated the following May, but with two degrees!). Nothing was really said about the other's graduation, it just was what it was. Somewhere after I graduated we started talking regularly again. It might have been because of the guy I was dating (ugh...why is it always a boy???) or who knows why. I remember when the afore mentioned boy and I broke up (for probably the third time) I went and visited her and spent Valentine's Day with her and her brother, just as an escape from life at home. Things were great and wonderful!
The following summer I had the final breakup with that guy and started dating the next. I remember he and I going to visit her at her parents' house just after we started dating. We were already talking about marriage and I remember she and I talking about being in each other's weddings. That afternoon I remember her talking about this guy that one of her friends wanted to set her up with, but she just wasn't all that sure about him.
Well they started dating a short time later. This is the part of my tale where we "broke up and got back together", so there was a bit of tarnish on my seemingly perfect relationship. I had built things up that this relationship was perfect that I was in no way, shape or form going to admit that we may have hit a rocky patch. That summer my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. We went through all the preop stuff and the surgery. I remember when I was at the hospital after surgery I got a text message announcing that they were engaged. Really??? Engaged??? They'd known each other a millisecond! I'd been in a relationship longer! This was not fair! To say I was jealous might be an understatement. To top in off while she is in wedding planning mode we went through "broke up and got back together" again! I could not bear to admit defeat and couldn't bear to tell her that we'd broken up, especially since I KNEW we would get back together (and we did).
I remember laying in my bed at my old apartment when she called and told me I'd be serving cake at her wedding. I was floored. Serving cake? That's the job you give to that person that you have to give a job to and you don't really like them. We're best friends! How could she? I was upset. (We have since talked and laughed about this, by the way!)
A sidebar to this story: I will now reveal my love languages, if you know anything about the five love languages. Mine top two are Quality Time and Words of Affirmation. I can think back on countless times that my feelings got hurt because I was not given the quality time that I desired (like being a bridesmaid!).
The reality of the situation was that she asked her cousins (clearly), his sister (clearly) and two of her sorority sisters, who in reality were her best friends at the time. During this time in my life I kind of felt like everyone was out to get me (I am in a MUCH healthier place now!) and this was just a manifestation of that. I did go to her wedding and was jealous of the relationship she had with her new sister in law, her sorority sisters and her cousins. To say that I wasn't hurt would be a lie.
The months rocked along and we didn't talk all that much. She was a newlywed and I was trying to sort out my relationship. About a year after they got married she got pregnant. I found out on MySpace (granted, she posted it and then called or text messaged me right after, so that was just crappy timing). I was hurt and angry about that too. It wasn't so much that she didn't tell me, but it was hard watching her other friends know and me not know. It was hard not being that person that she told things too. It made me sad.
That summer I missed her baby shower because I had surgery a few days before. I am sad that I did. Maybe I should have ridden with our other best friend, maybe I could have taken another pain pill and made it through the day, would it have made any difference? Coulda, woulda, shoulda...what can you do about those now?
The morning after the baby was born (an adorable boy!) she called me (he was born at like 2:00 am, she called at 11:00 am, no one is going to be upset about that time lapse!). I remember where I was when I got the call. We talked for a few minutes and then hung up. Her mom asked who she had been talking to, when she told her, her mom said "I think that's the shortest amount of time you two have ever been on the phone!"
Everything changed that Easter (doesn't it always come back to Easter with me? See World Communion Sunday for more on my history with Easter!). She sent out a mass email from her dad about their annual Easter Egg Hunt. The Easter Egg Hunt was a huge thing for us in high school. This is a serious hunt! In the good ol' days (before the economy bottomed out!) there would be hundred dollar eggs and they would be hidden all over their land. There was tons of food and family and friends. At this particular hunt her son was to be the guest of honor! Well I wanted to go! I convinced the boyfriend that we had spent the last two Easters with his family and we headed to Ardmore for it. We had a blast (well she and I did, don't know about the guys!) I guess this is where our friendship got back on track.
My mom and I went to her son's first birthday party; something I cannot even think about missing! When I got engaged I did not ask her to be a bridesmaid. I would be lying if I didn't say it was partially out of spite. I pray that even subconsciously this was not my primary reason. I did want to prove a point, with the whole stupid wedding, though, that I had moved on from our hometown, thus I asked no one from home (sans the little sister type person). She and our other best friend would be "honored guests" instead, along with two of my best friends from college.
Once again, Easter happened. On Maundy Thursday, to be specific, there was an "issue" (we'll just leave it at that) with the fiance's family and myself and though we were supposed to spend Easter with them I could not bring myself to go. I called her bawling and asked if they were having the Easter Egg Hunt and if I could come. Pretty sure she rolled her eyes when I asked this and said of course.
I knew I was invited. Her parents' house is like my house and the door is always open. I just had this need to be "wanted"; I needed to know that they wanted me to be there and cared that I would be there and I needed to hear that (back to those five love languages). Her mom even said that she thought I was ridiculous for asking if I could come. I explained this idea to her and she said, well we'd rather you be here anyway! It was a great day.
A few short weeks after that they wedding got called off and our friendship became even stronger and is where it is now. There is no competition of any kind anymore. I don't know when that fell away. It is part of growing up.
The single best testament to what an amazing friend she is happened when she told me about her second pregnancy. It is no secret that I have had some issues with people in my life being pregnant and some problems with life not being fair and being jealous. She and I talked about this, many, many, times as she was trying to get pregnant and had a little trouble. She told me that she was pregnant via text message. Now this may sound similar to when she was pregnant with her first, but alas, it was very different. This time she sent it and said, "So I thought I would message you so that you don't have to pretend to be happy because I know it will deep down make you sad but #2 is finally on the way". I am fairly certain I cried when I read this. I was nothing but elated for her. I mean I am so very excited about this baby! I called her and told her all of this. The caring that it took to hold back her excitement to consider my feelings is what I see as a true best friend. I am busy planning her baby shower with such excitement it is ridiculous!
I cannot imagine my life without her. In two years we will celebrate our 20 year "friend-iversary" and we are supposed to go on a trip. We are both embarking upon different stages in our lives, but even with 180 degree differences we are closer now than we have ever been. I would not trade one fight, squabble, jealous moment, competitiveness between each other for anything. She has made me who I am and I have made her who she is. We have come out stronger through it all. There is pretty much nothing that the two of us cannot accomplish or figure out if we put our heads together (which can be a little scary!) It is now strange for us not to talk every day (in fact we're talking on facebook chat right now!). I think we have both grown up a lot in the last ten years (me especially!) and there is no worry about what others will say, think or do and we just call each other out on our bullshit and move on. We don't say what the other one wants to hear, rather we say what we need to hear in a kind and loving way. She is usually the first person that I call when I have a problem and she is the first person I call when I have a new crush (which she can usually figure out with the first guess, tricky little devil!).
My predicition for the future: we will be the ones that when we are 99 years old will be sitting in a nursing home gossiping about the little old men chasing after the little old ladies. Who knows what technology will be in place for us to figure things out then! :)
Last night after Junior League general meeting I was driving around talking on the phone (BAD cell phone reception at my house) and happened to drive by the Wesley Foundation around 9:00, which happens to be when Vespers starts, I decided to stop by!
In I went. This was the first time I had been to Vespers since I graduated college in 2004. There was a change in directors during this time. The current director and I started college and at Wesley at the same time. The service was nice, the worship was nice, and overall it was about the same as I remember. A whole different group of students, but there was a familiarity to it: kind of like going home again.
At the end of the service I sat down with Janey, the Associate Director (who I have become friends with planning the CrossTimbers/BridgeView golf tournament), and some of the girls. They could have been my friends and me when I was in college. One of the girls has a relatively unhealthy (in a fun way!) crush on a certain OU football player. I have NO idea who she might be like from my group. [Insert whistling and looking around from me] I told fun stories of sitting in a certain class because a certain football player was in the class and even taking tests. (In my defense I was friends with the teacher, so I could do that and he thought it was funny.) There was the girl in the very serious relationship (they were married already and none of my friends got married until after graduation). There was the girl that was super involved with church outside of Wesley. There was the super cute girl who I can't really make specifically compare to anyone in our group personality wise, but she could have fit in!
Overall I ended up staying there talking and laughing until way too late at night. In a weird way it felt like visiting with my old college friends. It is funny how the faces have changed, but the little groups are exactly the same. The sermon was part one of two, so I will be going back for another little visit down memory lane next Tuesday (any college friends that want to come with me, come on! Pizza is at 8:30 (I think?) and Vespers at 9:00, which is REALLY late for this old lady!)
