100,000

A few weeks ago my odometer rolled past the landmark of one hundred thousand miles. In fact, I didn't notice it until about fifty miles past the magic number. And while this huge number marks a lot of wear and tear on my poor car it also chronicles about 5 years of my life. Thankfully it's a Toyota so I'm convinced it will work until I drive it off of a cliff "Thelma and Louise style".


I remember buying my car which was, of course, my first grown up purchase. Before this, I had driven, wait for it, a Dodge Caravan and Chevrolet Caprice in high school (my coolness overwhelms you, I know) and then a Plymouth something-or-other and a Ford Taurus. Wow, I drove old lady cars. I will say that I have some great memories from those cars though. You'd be surprised just how many people you can pack into a Caprice, it's astounding.


When I was able to purchase my own car I steered clear of the land barges and soccer mom vehicles. Instead I wanted something grown up and yet fun that would outlive me if possible. A car is so utilitarian on one hand and a status symbol on the other. We pour over miles per gallon (now more than then), maintenance requirements, cloth or leather seating, power locks vs. the ancient crank windows, and then moon roof, sun roof, no roof. Even the color is important, do you want to blend or stand out? In my case, my speed while driving makes me stand out so I went for a blendable color, white in case you were wondering. We think through leg room, head room, and trunk space for those dead bodies we might one day haul or groceries if you live a boring life. We contemplate how high up or low to the ground we will sit, I guess choosing if we want to actually squash people in smaller cars or maybe skirt through the undercarriage of a semi.

The one thing I didn't think about as I signed away five years of car payments was where my car would take me. Those 100,000 miles represented payments and gas tanks but more than that, they represented the places I would go (insert a Dr. Seuss reference here). From the everyday drive to work or the grocery store to road trips and family visits, my car has taken me all kinds of places.

I like numbers, they give a sense of measurement and history. With each mile tallied on my car comes the history of where I went and why. Trips to south Texas for holidays, birthdays, funerals, and family events all add to the big number. Those twice weekly trips to Dallas for bible study from which lifelong friendships grew. A long drive in my car on a Saturday afternoon when I wanted to think or not think and just listen to music with the windows down.

Memories, stories, and miles all represented in that six digit number right there on my dash. What if other things in our life kept a tally: shoes that marked the steps taken exploring New York City, phones that log the hours spent having a heart wrenching talk with a friend, a stomach that counted all those calories resulting from chocolate chip cookies, keyboards that keep track of the words written in a lifetime.

One hundred thousand miles and counting.

It's like Christmas

I just wrote an email to the group leader for my weekly Bible study in which I explained to her that I was going to sneak out early so I can watch election results. Yep, I'm a nerd.

Her reply included the party line by the large group leader about polls not closing until 9, and I already voted so I couldn't change anything, and yada, yada, yada. She then mentioned that she thought of me during that whole discussion and how I had skipped out early on the same Bible study years ago to catch the end of the State of the Union (did I mention I'm a nerd?) So I responded with my ever growing rebellious tone that I'm a freak when it comes to politics and governement and Election Day is like Christmas to me and I had no problem skipping out early on Bible study no less.

Seriously, it doesn't matter that my vote has been cast already or that polls won't close until 9pm CST, I want to watch it all happen! It's like opening Christmas presents, most of the fun is in unwrapping them and being surprised. I want to listen to the commentators talk about exit polls and put up precinct reports. I want to watch as the states turn from gray to blue or red. In fact, if I would have planned better I would have made my own electoral college counter with a big map of the US and a state cut-out in red and blue that I could then tap to my wall. I would tally the electoral college points and tally after each state was called.

This is my holiday people and I want to celebrate it my way.

So if you haven't, go out and cast your vote. Do it now, do it because you can, do it because someone actually gave their life so that you had the freedom to have your voice heard and counted. And then, when you're done, you can come and sit on my couch with me and watch the results come in.

Stumped

It's funny for me to think that for almost two years I wrote a blog post practically daily and yet for the last two years I've been averaging one or two a month. I'm not sure if it's that I have less time to write or I have less things to write. Or maybe, it's a combination of both.

Oh I still think, boy do I think. But my thoughts are often left to rattle around in my brain than to go from pen to paper, or in my case, keyboard to screen. I do miss writing though. For being a more analytical, practical, administrative type person, writing always seemed to be my one creative outlet. It was a place for all the thoughts, questions, ideas, etc. that crowd my ever turning mind to find release.

So, I'm going to try to write more. Trust me it won't be a post a day, I've got too much going on for a goal like that. But maybe just a post a week. So if you're still out there internet I'm going to start speaking again. And if you're gone, that's ok, honestly I never wrote for you but more for me.

In shock

Below is a picture, post-Ike, of the coastal town of our family's beach cabins - Canal City. Devastation isn't really the right word to describe that there is ONE home left standing from a neighborhood of dozens. It's a bit surreal to think this beach house, built by my grandfather and his buddies over 50 years ago, was obliterated by wind and water.

The comforting thing is that I know all the many memories I have of this beach house and time there with my family there can't be taken away by a hurricane.

Olympics

Since the 12 hour time difference between China and Texas has led to many a late nights watching the Olympics I've had some time to ponder what event I would be able to compete in if I had a chance at a slot on the Olympic team.

Running is most definitely out. I'm more of a turtle than a hare.
Swimming is probably a no-go since I never learned how to breath and swim at the same time.
Gymnastics has no chance since balance is my mortal weakness.

Hmmm what does this leave? Weightlifting - nope, fencing - good idea but not sure I have the skills, maybe I need to look at the more non-famous sports.

I found it! Yep, I know what I will try out for next Olympic go-round. I would be perfect as the person that yells out "STROKE" in the crew competitions. I'm loud, I can keep tempo, and it requires really only those two things.

So in four or maybe 8 years, I might have a medal in hand for being the best yeller to keep time there is in the world.

Nature or Nurture?

In my case . . . . BOTH!

My mom is throwing a wedding shower for her best friend's daughter and I am the go-to expert. This expertise is assumed by my mom because as she says, "You're young and always going to parties, so you know more than me." By the way, I've been waiting my whole life to hear my mom say "you know more than me", though I wasn't imagining it to be in relation to showers.

Last night on the phone, she mentioned an email she had sent me with some information on invitations. Then she commented "You'll probably blog about me after you read it." With a comment like that, how could I not?

So today after reading the email, this line stuck out to me "since I'm quite anal and long winded - you might want to print this email (sorry about that)!" Ha, if you know me than you know that sentence is pretty much a great description of me too.

So if there is ever any question . . . . I am my mother's daughter.

The power

Ok, so being a Children's Ministry Director doesn't come with a whole lot of power and stature. But there is one week where I inherit ultimate power with endless possibilities. The type of power that allows me to require my co-workers to dress up in crazy costumes that include gold jeans, leather pants, and shiny lizard-skin shirts. Now pull your mind out of whatever gutter you've found yourself and realize that our VBS theme is about special agents in space. Hence the gold, leather, and lizard skin.

Obviously since it only happens once a year, I'm getting lots of pictures of this hilarious event. Maybe I'll use them as blackmail for a new playground or more cheerios. Hey, a girl's gotta use what she has available to her.