Am…musings

I’m not ashamed to admit it … I’m 38 years old and this is my latest guilty pleasure:

In the car on the way to work this morning, I turned it up and couldn’t help myself from “noddin’ my head like yeah; moving my hips like yeah.”

I also know all the words and sing them loudly (in the car with the windows up!) when this Miley song comes on:

Yeah … I know these songs are cheesy and that I’m way too old to be listening to them, but they just makes me smile.

What’s your guilty pleasure?

A Facebook friend posted this great quote without attributing it several weeks ago …

Bottom line is, even if you see ‘em coming, you’re not ready for the big moments. No ones asks for their life to change, not really. The big moments are gonna come, can’t help that. It’s what you do afterward that counts. That’s when you find out who you are.

I liked it so much, I wanted to find where it came from. My search yielded a few other blogs that stated it with no attribution … as if it were their own insights.

After digging a little deeper I found that it was wisdom ala … Buffy the Vampire Slayer. A good quote with fun origins … seemed worth the post.

My hair has been the topic of several recent posts. This time the changes are a little more permanent than the Bumpit.

About two years ago, I’d found a great ad featuring a girl with long, layered curly hair. At first, the cut really worked for me, but over time something went awry and it ended up misshapen with a really weird bottom layer in the back. I also felt my blonde highlights were getting to be too much of a good thing, especially at this time of year. When my hair appointment rolled around on Thursday, I decided a new look was in order.

The cut turned out great. The color … not so much. I went from about three shades lighter than my natural color to about four shades darker. I waffle between thinking it looks pretty to thinking it looks a little ridiculous (and the pic below really doesn’t do the darkness justice). The good news is that it will wash out with time.

Ok … I’m not really as obsessed with the Bumpit as it would seem. BUT … when I was posted the pic of myself in the last post, I got to thinking …

Bumpit? …

Or no Bumpit? …

The ‘dos are a little different … curly vs. sort of not curly, freshly highlighted vs. kinda due for a visit with Ms. Amy … and I definitely spent a little more time primping for the reunion than I did for work yesterday morning (truth be told … I did my makeup in the office … a little trick I learned from one of my favorite client contacts ).

Regardless, what do you think? (And please … if you don’t mind … vote by leaving a reply below, rather than on Facebook … I love your comments there, but for this, I’d like to have them permanently captured here on the blog … thanks!)

I’ve written a post about flowers before , but as I reflected on the true origins of this one, I started thinking about the person that taught me that if something sounds too good to be true … it probably is … my Rockport Elementary 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Schlueter.

There are people in life that are turning points. For me, many teachers made a difference, but Mrs. Schlueter had the most positive impact of them all. Before her, I had caring teachers and I had critical teachers, but Mrs. Schlueter combined both of those attributes. And for some reason, the tough love she delivered made me stand up and listen. Before 5th grade, I was a somewhat-above average student with potential. After her, I really began to care about my performance and began to excel in school and extracurricular activities (of course, Shar’s pushing made a huge difference too).

What does that have to do with flowers? On Tuesday I needed a pick me up and headed to Trader Joe’s, which has great prices on flowers. I’m always enamored by the mixed bouquets, but decided to go with a singular bunch of flowers I discovered in Orlando … the gladiolus.

I’d always been afraid to buy them because they are typically inexpensive (even at the grocery store) and Mrs. Schlueter taught me a lesson about things that don’t cost what they should … they may be too good to be true. Luckily, my Orlando-based friend Grace once had a bunch I inquired about and she shared that they are cheap, beautiful and long lasting. After that, I started buying them fairly regularly.

Here are the $4 Trader Joe’s gladiolus after four days ….

Gotta love ‘em … and of course, I’m always grateful to Mrs. Schlueter!

The baby birdies are doing well (after a bit of a scare Thursday evening when momma disappeared for a few hours). They’re also growing like weeds.

Here they are Friday morning …

And here they are last night (momma must have been out scrounging for food) …

I’m considering naming the babies … any ideas? (Although, at this rate they’ll be gone before I know it. I’m actually hoping they might get a little used to me being so close and talking to them that they’ll come back to visit.)

There’s a mourning dove nesting in the hanging basket right outside my front door … and I mean right outside.

Thankfully, it’s not a robin, which I hear are a little vicious around their nests. This little sweetie lets me get pretty close.

At first, she just flew away if she got uncomfortable, which tended to startle me and any one who came to the front door. But lately, she’s been staying put. I like to think it’s because I’ve been talking to her and telling her she’s a good momma, but it might just be because the eggs are about to hatch. I’m hoping she stays as good natured when she’s watching over two babies instead of two tiny eggs.

In addition to being the size of a thimble, I’m thinking my bladder is a sensitive, shy type that didn’t like being called out in my last post.

Thanks to it, I was up at least every two to three hours last night. By the fourth or fifth time, the sun was coming up and I was coherent enough to register the time and definitely know I visited the bathroom at 10 minutes to 6:00 and then again at 10 minutes after 8:00. At that point, I couldn’t fall back asleep even though it was a bit earlier than I wanted to rise on my day off.

I’m thinking it was my bladder’s way of saying, “Paybacks are a bitch, sister. Quit talking about me!” Or, more likely, my body is responding to waaaay too much Diet Coke yesterday … yeah, I’ve definitely fallen off the no caffeine/no soda wagon these days.

I used to like bacon as a kid (along with all sorts of other terrible artery-clogging things like Velveeta and fatty steak). Then, my dad had a heart attack at 38 and things like bacon were off the daily Morris menu. I’ve been on my own for a while, but bacon was one of those things on my “not worth the calories and fat” list (the two big exceptions to this rule are the BLT at Crown Candy Kitchen in North St. Louis and my neighbor Marsha’s bagel breakfast sandwich – both are amazing!).

Crown Candy BLT By IronStef @Flickr

I think I’m in the minority on this bacon thing. Several people I follow on Twitter regularly mention bacon, which always amazes me. I also have a few friends that are official Facebook fans of bacon. In fact, there are more than 250,000 fans of bacon on Facebook and nearly 300,000 fans of bacon butty (a bacon sandwich in the UK).

Because I thought I might have an overnight guest last weekend, I bought some bacon, which seemed like a required part of a good manly breakfast (I’m all concerned about serving this particular guy too many girly dishes for some reason). He ended up not feeling well so the package of bacon was still in my fridge when I was scrounging for something for dinner recently.

I chose a (decidedly girly) asparagus omelet and bacon. As a test run for an eventual overnight stay , I even cooked it on the stove instead of the somewhat healthier method of in the microwave (too girly). It smelled wonderful and I was totally jazzed. Then I took a bite. It was ok, but I decided I’ve been right … not necessarily worth the calories and fat. I also think I really do like it better in the microwave. Of course, I’ll have to sacrifice myself for breakfast for the guy.

No offense. Really.

I’m pretty open and honest … in general and in this blog … occasionally maybe too much so. But there are, of course, things I keep from you. Usually, it’s no big deal … I just blog about other things. But sometimes, the things I’ve decided to keep from you are a bit consuming for me, occupying my thoughts to the point where other things I might post about seem inconsequential.

That’s been the case lately.

I feel bad about not posting. I really do. I’ve even been trying to force myself to come up with something … anything, but I’ve never been one to do something I HAVE to do … unless the consequences are steep.

I do have a few posts in mind so you might be hearing more from me lately, but I did want to explain my absence.

And I really do hope you don’t take offense.