The Man is at the game edition

Did I ever mention the results of the Weblog Awards? It was a strong third place finish for Chatting at the Sky. Thank you all for voting. Receiving 2,891 votes is no small feat. And even though I lost by a good six thousand votes, I am happy with a bronze medal finish. Would be even happier if I actually got a bronze medal. But whatever.

Speaking of Lost, it comes back this week, Wednesday on ABC. It is going to be a premiere event, so you won't want to miss it. I love it when they add event to the ends of things to make them more important.

I went shopping with June today. She has a wedding to attend next month in cold, icy, shaped like a mitten Michigan. And North Carolina June has nothing to wear to a fancy, freezing, Michigan wedding. So we shopped and we searched and she sparkled. But no luck. At least not in the dress department. I consider myself extremely lucky to have spent some time with June, though. She is full of wild hilarity, that one. She once asked Does this dress make me look dead? It did not.

So even though we didn't find a dress, we were able to enjoy a fantastic lunch together. Well, I enjoyed a fantastic lunch and June stirred her soup a few times because the woman has no appetite, as her migraine medicine has changed her taste buds so that soft drinks are paint thinner and food is uninteresting. At least she doesn't have migraines.

Speaking of migraines, I hope this post hasn't given you one. I know it isn't the usual type of post, but The Man is at the Tarheels game so I have no one to talk with. Aren't you lucky?

still voting?

Thank you all so much for voting for Chatting at the Sky in the Weblog Awards. We are holding on to a solid third place position, which isn't too shabby considering that the competition has wielded some pretty strong endorsements, not the least of which is Keira Knightly. You know, the hot actress? With lots of fans? And lots of computers?

Remember you can vote once per day per computer. Feel free to ask your readers to vote too, as I know my winning a very nice but somewhat meaningless award is certainly at the top of your bloggy priority list. Thank you June, Kendra, Dana and Daisy, Laura and Nester for already doing this! You are so great.

And just think: if all my readers AND all your readers voted once a day for the next four days, it could really make a difference. Throw in the entire state of Rhode Island and we just might win this thing.

Voting continues until Monday January 12.

Here's a peek at my ballot for some contestants in other categories:

Best Parenting Blog: Blissfully Domestic

Best Diarist: Velveteen Mind

Best New Blog: Blog Nosh Magazine

Seriously, this has been fun. The begging for votes, the shameless promotion, the general selflessness of it all is quite refreshing.

As a thank you for voting, here are some before and after shots of my house. (Do I know my audience or what?)
The twins room the day we walked through the house for the first time and our heads began to spin...
And the twins room after our Fairy Godmother showed up to ready it for the ball. Cleans up nice, huh?
The downstairs hallway leading to the kitchen before we moved in. Check out the wood paneling.
The downstairs hallway now...with a little peek into some recent cabinet painting. But that's another post. Curious? Good. Now go vote.

hands across America

I am so impressed with the Internet. Last night The Man and I began watching Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (No, I have never seen it. No, I have not read the book. No, I do not know what happens in the end.) Anyway, at one point we took an ice cream break and I checked my email and peeked in on the voting. I have to admit, I had a moment. I began to think about all the people I've met since I've started a blog.

At the risk of sounding cheesy and stupid, I have to tell you that I was overwhelmed with thankfulness for my Internet friends. I got emails and tweets of support from a bunch of the coolest people in webland.
Take June, for example. My sister discovered her last year and quickly became a worshiper I mean fan. Shortly after finding June online, we got to meet her in real life and now she lives close by. I couldn't have imagined meeting Internetty people in real life a few years ago.

It wasn't so long ago I remember hearing the the phrase windows on the computer and was totally confused. The Internet was not a vocabulary word I recognized even my senior year of high school.
Contrast that with last year at She Speaks, I walk into a room full of bloggers and these two blogging sisters walk up to me in recognition. From my blog. From the Internet. I keep up with Megan and Jami through their blogs and I'm so glad I met them.

I didn't have email until my sophomore year of college, and even then I remember sitting in my dad's office at our house, waiting for AOL to dial up. It took seven minutes just to connect. And that didn't even include actually sending an email.
Now, people I meet online end up being friends in real life. Like Kimba from A Soft Place to Land. She has a sister who lives nearby and when she came to visit, a bunch of us scrambled to meet her for real like. And Jen, who I've known of for years, but only since she's had a blog have I really gotten to know her.
The ultimate crazy is this: I was so sad when my sister moved out of town. But then, oh joy! She started a blog and now we have all kinds of bloggy adventures together.

I never would have imagine writing on the scary internet. Or reading what other people write on the scary Internet. But now, I can't get enough of Jennifer P. and Mindless Junque and Chickadee and Through A Glass Darkly and Out on a Limb. And then there's that weird Twitter that I'm still trying to figure out, with friends like Fussy and Karla and Robin.

There are so many more. Bloggers and non-bloggers alike. So thank you. For not being scary. For writing and entertaining and being funny and supportive and thoughtful and useful and all the other 'fuls. And thank you for voting for this small blog. I promise to have a post tomorrow that doesn't mention voting. As long as you keep voting. Every 24 hours. Hallelujah and Amen.

stuck much?

Need some perspective on that next load of laundry or the dreaded trip to the grocery store? My bloggy friend Laura linked up late to Monday's Everyday Unwrapped post. I'm so glad she did.

Because even though I have been so encouraged by reading all the everyday moments from all of you, I have still gotten stuck in the daily drudge a time or two this week.

Her post is one of the things that helped unstick me. Here is an excerpt:

A death in the family tears you off of your feet and out of the everyday, unwilling, stunned into silence, glancing over your shoulder at what should have been as you begin walking the rut of the mourner. Gather at Mom's house, wash dishes, murmur reassurances of eternal life through Jesus that land on unwilling ears...If only we could be grocery shopping, solving math problems at the school table, putting in the next load of laundry.

I'm almost convinced that circumstances are generally neutral. It is our perspective that causes them to be either a blessing or a curse. Hop on over to Laura's site and read her eloquent and vulnerable account of finding life in the midst of death.

those creative women in living color

Those Creative Women had their show on Saturday and, since I have no goods to sell, I did my best to capture the work of their creative hands.
Kendra at My First Kitchen sold her homemade spices. Just look at these tiny jars. They were my favorite.
The Nester celebrated her birthday by selling her lovely tassels. Doesn't that chocolate lab tassel look like a real chocolate lab? As in, let me bite your head off on Easter?
Kendra's mom of Imagery Limited was there with lots of stained glass lovelies. I wanted all of them.
Here are some of the necklaces Melody makes. I wanted to buy one but guess what I left at home? That's right. ALL MY MONEY. Who comes to a show like this with no money? The tagalong little sister, that's who.

As much as I loved all the creative goods, my most favorite part of the day was mingling with all of the women who came to the show, both new friends and old.
Here's Sissy from Out on a Limb getting a quick consultation from The Nester. Yes, she brought photos from home. And she wasn't the only one who did this, by the way.
Look who else came. It's June from Bye, Bye Pie! She had a tassel on her head within 25 seconds of entering the door. Full of laughs, that one. And she evidently she can't keep her hands off her chest.
Students came too. See that one there in the middle? She reads Bye, Bye Pie during school hours and then calls her classmates to gather round the computer and laugh. So June, don't be surprised if you are nominated for a senior superlative because these cool kids are totally into you.
These girls may get the award for who traveled farthest (furthest?) for the show. Pink and Polka Dot and Everyday Grace (who has a private blog) drove from out of town to chat, mingle and browse. They may or may not have bought tassels. They may or may not have brought us presents. It may or may not have been my favorite part of the day. I just love the blog world.

In closing, let me leave you with some of the families involved in the day:
Here's Kendra with her beautiful sister Hannah and their uber talented mom, Cindy.
Look! It's Lauren with her lovely sister Amanda. She also brought her fiance Justin who was semi-famous among the women at the show as he was A. one of the only men in attendance and B. we've all seen his photos on her blog.
Kristin and her mom smile for me just after making their purchases. Don't they look happy? If you missed out on the show but would still like to buy a few gifts for Christmas, all these girls have Etsy shops so check them out.

I felt compelled to share these photos, as it was my craft for the day. Thanks for reading and happy shopping.

spontaneous blessings

In the name of being spontaneous (yes, I'm still being spontaneous), a trip that was supposed to be two days long has turned into six. I feel 10 years younger. Especially since my mom has done my laundry. Twice.
These girls are one of the many blessings I have received on this spontaneous trip. The Nester and I made plans to have lunch with Lysa TerKeurst of Proverbs 31 Ministries. I attended several of her sessions at the She Speaks conference in June and was immediately drawn to her girlfriend speaking style and her willingness to speak truth with the perfect blend of confidence and grace. Sitting across the table from her, those qualities were displayed even more. She has a unique ability to cast vision for others and encourage them in that. If you don't know anything about Lysa or Proverbs 31, let me encourage you to check them out.

Kristen of Beautifully Imperfect called me an hour before lunch. Spontaneously. She has never called me before. She even had to track down The Man to get my number. I am so glad she did. She is a friend from my hometown who is recently married and new to this big city (some of you may remember these photos from her wedding). She heard I was visiting and hesitantly asked if we could get together. Within the hour, we were sitting for lunch together and I truly believe it was a divine appointment. She is a writer. And as we listened to her talk about how she reluctantly decided to begin writing again through blogging, I felt as though I was watching the beginning of a dream take hold in her. I can't wait to continue to know her better through her writing.

This week has been crazy and unpredictable. I'm still not home and I have a spontaneous road trip with my sister to look forward to. That's right. I am thankful for the blessings available even in the midst of chaos. I am thankful for the money to buy new underwear because I didn't pack enough. I am thankful for a sister who lets me borrow her cool clothes because I didn't bring any. Speaking of chaos, check out my first attempt at taking the above photo with the remote. I need to practice being inconspicuous.

fiction

What began as a favor to a friend (sure, I'll read the first book in that series by the end of November so you will have someone to see the movie with even though I'm not sure if I will be interested or have time), has turned into a two week long fascination (I'll read every spare moment I can find until I finish this book because I am so incredibly interested).

I should have told myself this would happen. Because when Myself gets involved in a story, Myself cannot put said story down. Well guess what? Myself has gotten herself involved. So involved, in fact, that what was supposed to be one book has turned into four.

I have now read all four books in the Twilight series. I know.

I'm still processing what I think of them and will talk about that in a separate post (sorry to drag this on for you who haven't read these books). But one thing reading so much fiction lately has me thinking about is what makes a good story.

Stephenie Meyer says on her website that the idea for Twilight came to her in a dream a little over 5 years ago. The morning after her dream, she was compelled to record as much as she could remember of it, only to discover as she went about her day, more of the story would unfold.

The story continued to demand an outlet: "Bella and Edward were, quite literally voices in my head. They simply wouldn't shut up." Her fictional characters came to life in such a way for her that the very mind who conceived them could hardly keep up.

Writers of fiction are fascinating to me. I believe with my whole heart that fiction is the most difficult genre to write. Rephrase: good fiction is the most difficult genre to write. To create a story that is compelling, that moves, that is both believable and magical: grounded in the facts while flirting with the fantastic. It feels risky and vulnerable, the thought of writing fiction. I think we owe a debt of gratitude and respect to those who are willing to take that risk and allow their imaginations to be exposed to a world full of critics.

Now I'm off to work on my critique of the Twilight series.

kimba's in town!

Lucky me got to have brunch with Jen, Kimba, Jill, Nester, Kendra and Lauren. This is the after shot. Before brunch, I was about 20 pounds lighter. Seriously. And we are working on Jill to get a blog because it is no fun to not have your name highlighted. We had a great time together and I am so happy to have met Kimba in real life.

soaked and smiling

We made it back from the fall retreat in one piece. I did dive in as the last post suggested and got very wet. As in, it rained half the weekend. But I also had a great time with these students and so enjoyed their company. It took me a few hours to transition from mommy to youth leader. I think by midnight of the first night, the transition was complete. And because I cannot process life without photos, here are a few for your viewing pleasure.
These are the girls in my cabin. Y'all. Could they be any cuter? Seriously, I wasn't that cute in high school. Were you? I think people are getting cuter over the years. Survival of the Cutest.
We did a lot of walking this weekend. Lots of hills. And mud. I don't think the students even noticed the walking. And then there was me who was calculating how many days I could skip on the treadmill because of all the exercise I was getting.
There was also lots of silliness which is kind of my favorite. I think this is one reason I like students so much.
In between the silliness, there was serious as well. Each student received a block of wood in which they wrote down a negative word they believed was true about themselves. By the end of the weekend, these blocks were burned in a bonfire. An appropriate thing to do with lies, don't you think?What fall retreat would be complete without a square dance? Not only were there cowboy hats, overalls, pigtails and freckles, we also had a genuine square dance caller guy. You know, the one who tells you exactly what to do: Go-to-the-middle-and-BOW. Now-face-your partner-do-si-do. Now bow to your CORner, not YOUR girl she's the OTHER one. It was so awesome. And look who I got to dance with.
In my haste to capture this moment, I cut off his cowboy booted feet. Isn't he lovely? Don't you want to place the lives of your children in the capable hands of a youth pastor wearing a camouflage Waffle House shirt? Good times.

diving in

The Man has been in youth ministry for over seven years. During the first few, I was with him for nearly every ski trip, small group and sleepover. When the twins were born, it was time for me to shift my main focus from students to babies. But today, the high school students leave for their annual fall retreat. And guess who gets to go with them?

That's right! Chatty Emily will be hopping on one of four buses carrying 170 students out of town for the weekend. I'm looking forward to the opportunity to get to know some of them better. I'm excited about leaving the little ones in the capable hands of my parents so I won't have to worry. But I'm feeling old, y'all. I got an email last night with the minute by minute schedule for the weekend (I love an organized youth ministry). I read it slowly, picturing everything in my head, planning accordingly. It wasn't until I noticed the amused look on the Man's face that I realized I had been studying the schedule for...kind of a long time.

It was then that it hit me: motherhood has slowly sucked the spontaneity right out of my personality. I now have the need to plan, to know, to not be surprised. But anyone who works with teenagers, has teenagers or is a teenager knows that no amount of planning can insure a plan. Life simply doesn't work that way. Especially not in youth ministry.

So I have my bag packed, my phone charged, my camera ready. I'm trying my best to take off my mom-to-three-preschool-students hat and put on my laid-back-friend-to-high-school-students hat. Most importantly, I'm beginning to release my illusion of control and to instead allow Jesus to live through me, love through me and maybe even surprise me.

Hollywood, North Carolina

In my last post I mentioned that the reception for the beach wedding was held in downtown Wilmington in this great old brick building.
But the important part is that it was situated right across the street from the wall Pacey bought Joey during Season 3 of Dawson's Creek. And with that, I know some of you just decided to remove me from your readers.

I didn't start watching the show until about halfway through the series. I spent many Wednesday nights rushing to Sissy's apartment by 8pm so I wouldn't miss the beginning. There were no DVRs for Dawson. It was kind of nice, though, as Sissy and I spent the commercials catching up on our days really fast until the show came back on. I like watching shows with friends.
There's me with Joey's wall. See how big it is? Wilmington is the home of the largest sound stage east of Hollywood, Screen Gems Studios. How do I know this? Duh, because when our wedding duties were over, we took a tour of it. Aside from being the former home of Dawson's Creek, the studio also films CW's One Tree Hill, which is the actual set we toured. I've never seen one episode of that show, but it was still pretty rad to be on a hot set of a current show. I know all the lingo.

While Joey's wall is a genuine brick wall in a real town, the brick they use to make porches on the set is really only painted wood. The granite counter top in the kitchen is painted wood. The sinks are painted wood. Kidding. The sinks are real, but they don't really work. Unless, of course, they drag the hose inside and hook it up, letting the water drain into a bucket underneath, out of site of the cameras, of course.

Now the actors, they really are painted wood. Pretty talented set designers if you ask me. So tell me: have you ever been on a set tour? a live taping of a show? an extra in a movie? I want to hear all about it. Especially if the show was Friends. Just being honest.

Balancing Beauty and Bedlam

There is a family at our church whose oldest son is a freshman in high school. They have 5 children and have figured out at least one of them will be in our youth group for the next 15 years. Needless to say, we are getting to know them.
We drove out to their house on Labor Day. While the guys went to play golf, we girls stayed home and made pizzas.
Well, Jen and the kids made pizzas and I took photos because that's just what I do. Some of you may recognize her from her blog, Balancing Beauty and Bedlam. Let me be the first to tell you: she does. Look how happy she is balancing all that bedlam!
This family is living their dream (and maybe mine as well). They live on 10 bajillion acres with their grown siblings and their spouses and between them have 10 bajillion kids. Or 19, but still. Here are some of the older ones taking the younger ones to the field.
They have lots of fields on their land. Fields and trees and kid-made forts. A dream, I tell you. Their family is adorable, their love for one another is contagious and Jen manages to weave her sweet, carefree spirit in and around every aspect of their home. She is a homeschooling mom who has purposed to choose joy even in the midst of chaos. She loves yard sales, coupons and family traditions. If you haven't met her yet, head on over and check her out.

Through A Glass, Darkly

We met during the fall semester of 1997. I was a junior in college and she was a freshmen. She is one of those girls who I've always liked but haven't always known well. And then one day a few years ago when I was isolated from the outside world because I was home nursing twins all day or something like that, she told me about her blog. (Here she is last fall in NYC. Her husband took this photo and I kindly stole it from their flickr site.)
I didn't know much about blogging, so she explained it to me, as she had been blogging since February of 2004. That's right. 2-0-0-4. I think in blog years that makes her like, 68. So wise in the ways of the blog, that one. I looked her up and discovered another side of Kari that I hadn't known before.

I was immediately drawn to her vulnerability, insight and dry humor. The parts of her personality I already enjoyed were even more vivid in her writing, like a favorite book marked up with a hi-liter. I love learning things about my friends in real life that may never come up in conversation but are communicated naturally on a blog. Her voice inspired me to find my own, and I am thankful to her for that.

She is a reader of real books. One hundred and fifty-two of them last year alone. She often reviews them on her blog. She hosted a party for the series finale of Gilmore Girls and gave away fantastic prizes, including a Rory and Lorelai CD mix. She loves the farmer's market and makes pies from scratch. Her husband is a teacher. She does not like dogs or card games. She is a firm supporter of not washing the dishes before you put them in the dishwasher. She has faith in God and believes he is big enough to handle hard questions.

Kari is also a writer. When you are a reader and a writer and you blog consistently over four years, your blog is bound to reveal growth and insight that only reflections over time can bring about. That is one of the many things I love about Through A Glass, Darkly. Each time I read one of her post I do one of three things: laugh, cry or nod my head in agreement. I encourage you to check out my friend in real life.

the heart of a hero

She wanted another son. She and her husband already had one baby but struggled to conceive another. They chose to adopt. And so she waited. She dreamed. Then, she waited some more. She fought hard against insurmountable odds that culminated to a dark and hopeless hour last week when it seemed they would never be allowed to bring him home.

Just when it seemed she might have to let him go, they received the email that changed everything. Contrary to all they thought would be true for them, they prepare to leave on Friday for a trip around the world to bring their little boy home.

Last night, I attended her baby shower. I sat in her sister's living room and watched as she opened packages of hope and happiness disguised as tiny boy clothes. She was giddy and overwhelmed, helpless to hide her tears of relief.

I couldn't keep my eyes from settling on the photo hanging behind her of the son she was preparing to meet. A dark haired boy with a wide, toothless grin. He is an orphan destined to remain so unless someone, somewhere fights for him.

Not because he earned it. Just because he is.

The heart of a mother reflects the heart of God like nothing I have ever seen. Her love is no less passionate or fierce whether that baby is growing inside her own body, born of a woman on the other side of the world or born only in her heart as she struggles to conceive. A mother loves her baby without condition or expectation. She will wait any amount of time, travel any distance, fight any battle.

A hero indeed.

sam, this one's for you

I know we are all special. I know there can never be another you. But I gotta tell you, if there could be another you, I am totally the girl to figure out who it is. Of the many disorders I have revealed in this space of mine, I'm not sure I've shared with you my obsession with discovering your look-a-like.

I met Ellen Page at the conference last weekend. You know, from Juno?

No, of course not really. But I did meet Sam from The Listeners Post. She is Ellen Page's twin in real life I think. Hil. Arious. She looked really familiar so we played the name game until we figured out the loose connection we have. (She went to college sort of in my town. Sort of.) Then later I realized it was probably the whole you-look-just-like-Ellen-Page thing that caused me to think I knew her.

Sam is so much fun and I was disappointed that I didn't get a photo of her at SheSpeaks. Actually, I'm kind of lying. I did get a photo of her.
I call this one Stalker With A Great Zoom Lens. I'm definitely climbing up the bff ladder in her book for posting this, I'm sure.

Sam is another one of the surprise gifts I received this weekend. She kept us laughing at the conference which is always a plus for me. More than that, she allowed herself to be moved by God's hand and she didn't let fear keep her from being vulnerable at His feet. I like that.

Let's hear it for Sam! And is there anyone else out there who never sees a unique face because everyone you meet looks like someone you already know?

she spoke, she wrote

Well, SheSpeaks is over and I am overwhelmed in many ways. Mostly good ways. It is humbling to realize how much I don't know about things, but I am also equipped to learn more about that which I am passionate. Namely, writing.

I enjoy writing. Have I mentioned that here before? I sat in workshops about writing, taught by women who have written all their lives, surrounded by women who love words. It was divine. It was exciting, scary and divine.

No one had rocks in their pockets. The women in my peer review group were gracious and helpful. They made some great suggestions as well as encouraged me enough that I'm almost convinced I'm not crazy.

During the main sessions, I had a sweet glimpse of the Father's heart toward me. He is gracious, patient and kind. He has brought a sense of clarity in the foggy mess that is my mind these days. And He is excited, too.

Finally, this thought: I always think the best gifts are the ones we don't expect. Especially when they come from God's hand.
This is Karla, Megan, Jami and me. We knew each other vaguely through our blogs before the conference, which is how we connected once we got there. And oh, how we did connect. As much as I love words, I can't think of any to describe how thankful I am for them this weekend.

When I signed up for this conference, I didn't know a single person attending. I didn't expect to make friends, much less friends who are funny, who watch The Office, who love words as much as I do, who aren't afraid to cry in public. What a blessing to discover these comment box robot people not only exist, but they are vibrant, emotional, beautiful women with real lives, real kids and real faith. I'm so glad I met you, friends.

my estrogen-filled weekend

I went on the women's retreat with my church this weekend. It was crazy bad timing...one kid had pink eye, the man was to leave town right when I got back, we are moving in a week. You know. Life is happening. If I hadn't already paid for it, I may not have gone.

Besides that, I was asked to officially be the unofficial photographer for the weekend. Which is kind of obscure and intimidating. I'm not so crazy about taking photos of people I don't know and it just wouldn't be cool to have 200 pictures of the women in my small group. Who, by the way, were awesome.
Here they are, posing for a group photo. Women get crazy when we are together for a whole weekend at the beach with no men or children. Or laundry. As you can see, it was easy to get some good shots of this group. My concern was getting enough shots of the women I don't know.

One opportunity came Saturday afternoon while hanging on the beach with a friend. I noticed some women from our group that I hadn't gotten photos of yet.
They were relaxing, talking, bathing in the sun near us. I hated to do the whole Hey y'all! I know you don't really know me that well, but don't you want to pose for my camera in your bathing suits? I thought the best I would get would be a couple of half-hearted smiles and a lot of groaning.

This is what I got instead.
I've never seen women jump up so fast. They were like middle schoolers.
They not only posed, they ran to the water to give me fun, action shots. It was awesome. Then, they did this.
I don't think some of them have done a cartwheel in years. There were a couple more frames in the middle, but they aren't the most family friendly shots if you know what I mean.

I had to share these, as it has had me laughing for a couple of days now. I just love how, when we are removed from the everyday, we give ourselves permission to be ridiculous and silly.

celebrating her

I met her at my sister's wedding. I was the maid of honor and she was the guest book attendant. I was immediately drawn to her and by nights end, we had agreed to be roommates. She was a year older than me so, by age alone she was automatically cool. She already had a year of college behind her which somehow gave me confidence by association going into my freshman year.

She was fun and funny, playful and vivacious, blond and gorgeous. She was dramatic, jealous, passionate and, by the standards of our small Bible college in South Carolina, she could be downright scandalous.

It was little things that bonded us at first: we wore the same size shoes and could share clothes and both had an unnatural love for our favorite musicals, often acting them out for one another in our small, girly decorated dorm room...entertainment we resorted to as we had no car between us, nothing within walking distance of campus and we weren't allowed to have TVs. But we shared a lot more than just a room during those years in college. We shared dreams and drama, heartache and heart breaks as well as a love for the Lord.

As the years have passed, we have graduated and grown up. I have watched as she remained fiercely loyal to those she loved, even if she had been hurt by them. She has taught me to play more, laugh harder and not take myself so seriously. She is beautifully human.

These days we only get to see each other about once a year. Two years ago we went to New York and ate pizza in Brooklyn and saw Wicked on Broadway. Last year she came here for a weekend (with me and my 3 kids...not exactly a walk down 5th Avenue, but still). We keep in touch fairly regularly and always pick up where we left off no matter how long its been. She continues to always always have better stories than anyone I know. For example, strange woman asks her "Will you take a picture of my mom and I for me?" Sure. No big deal...unless strange woman is Queen Latifah. Or accidentally walking in on another woman in an unlocked bathroom stall...again, no big deal. Unless, of course that other woman is Cindy Crawford (or was it Brooke Shields?). True stories...they're always true stories.

She is one of my favorite people and today is her birthday. We've been together on her birthday for the last few years...but not this one. She is on her end of the country and I am on mine. She celebrates with friends I may one day meet but will never know. It is right that she has people there, I have people here, and that our lives have continued. But I miss her. And I am sad that she is no longer a part of my everyday. But I am thankful for her influence, her heart, and her hilarious take on life.

Happy birthday, friend.

there goes the bride

So its been a good weekend. Saturday especially. Time with friends with donuts and coffee. Took kids to the park. Pulled some weeds in the yard. Enjoyed a girls night out. Ate good food. Watched a chick flick. Today was a good day too. Church was good. Kids were happy. Husband was happy. Lunch out. Time at home. Baby napped. Girls played.

I sat down to clip coupons. I was content...proud that this day that has such potential to be hectic was turning out so nicely. Until I lifted up the coupons from my desk. And there, at the bottom of a small pile of papers, was an invitation. To a wedding. Of my friend. For yesterday.

As I held it in my hand, I could feel the blood rush out of my face, that creamy card stock mocking me with its swirly silver writing...silently accusing me with the words Saturday the eighth of September. My first instinct was to think of someone else to blame. Anyone but my own lack of organization for failing to transfer the wedding date from the card to my calendar. Surely they should have called the guests to remind us to come? But it was in vain. All I could think of was that while I was stuffing my stupid face with chicken florentine pizza and crying because Jane let Tom Lefroy go, my friend was living the most important day of her life. And I missed it. Because I forgot.

So here I am. Regretful, yes. Embarrassed, you better believe it. Sad for two reasons: because I know I disappointed her by not being there and also, because I'm disappointed myself. I wanted to be there. To meet her husband. To take photos for fun. To be a good friend.

I feel like a failure, an idiotic airhead. But I can't let myself stay there. I guess there just comes a point when I have to realize that I've made a mistake and, as much as I'd like to, I can't take it back. And so I wait...for my feelings to settle and for the color to return to my face.

And I go out and buy her a card to contain my well wishes and sincere apology, a wedding gift, and a box of chocolates.

still good, even though...

I am not the one to write about loss. I have friends who could write books on the topic. But not me. Still, there has been a loss. And today marks 10 years. So I feel compelled to write. And so I do.

The spring of 1993 was the spring I turned 16, got my braces off, made the varsity cheer leading squad, went to my first prom and had my first legitimate boyfriend. His best friends' name was Chris, and Chris was dating my best friend, Heather. Needless to say, the four of us became pretty close.

Chris was not the kind of guy with whom I would have naturally been friends. He could be kind of a jerk, actually. He was really funny, but often times at other peoples' expense (it was high school, after all). He always said I had a big nose but thought it was ok to say because he had a big nose too. He was talented and popular...captain and keeper on the varsity soccer team, voted most outspoken in the senior superlatives. He liked to party. After a while, we saw a softer side of him. I was there when he was baptized. He was charming and, if you could get past being the brunt of his jokes, he was pretty easy to like. Over that year, he became one of my closest friends at a time in life when friends were everything.

Eventually, we all went off to college and lived separate lives. A year or so after I had last seen him, I was watching the news along with the rest of the world as we learned of the death of princess Diana. A short time later, Mother Teresa died as well. And I watched loss and grief on TV. But I was far removed, disconnected, aware but unaffected.

Little did I know that during that same time, on a small college campus in Tennessee, there was a motorcycle accident. And so while the world was mourning the loss of a princess and a saint, those who knew this funny, witty, talented, sarcastic college guy...well, we were mourning too.

Now its been 10 years. So what's my point? I guess just that he should be here. Somewhere in the world, he should be laughing and loving a wife and having kids and living. And I'm not naive enough to think that he and I would still be in touch because we probably wouldn't. But I should be able to google his name on a curious Saturday afternoon and find a blip of an article from a random newspaper about when his baby daughter was born or his name listed in an online college graduation bulletin or maybe even his stats in a bio about the US Olympic soccer team or his run on Survivor or...something.

I guess that's the nature of death. There is a place in the world where it seems like they are supposed to be but they aren't. I don't even care where that place is. Just somewhere. But then, who am I to say what is supposed to be or not be? And so I sit and remember, reflecting on his life and who he was to me and those who knew him...and I trust that, even though it doesn't make it feel any less of a loss, I trust that the Lord knows. And He sees. And He is still good.