A: ...so yeah, it was pretty crazy.

S: Oh wow. That's nuts.

A: Yeah I just couldn't believe it.

S: Mmhmmm...

A: Anyway, I can tell you more about it when I get home if you're busy.

S: No, I'm not busy. But that's fine...either way...

A: You're wanting to get off the phone to watch more reality TV aren't you?

S: (guilty silence)



Summer loving:

  • These. Way, way, waaaaaaay too much.
  • This. Free playlists that I can change on a whim AND I don't even have to create an account?
    Best thing ever! I am serious. You should try it. (Thanks little brother.)
  • This (7 days!). I don't know why but I am super excited about them this year. So excited that we actually JUST got our TV hooked up so that we receive (free) channels. Obviously this was just an excuse to watch So You Think You Can Dance marathons. Jk guys. Maybe.
  • Lazing about with Adam and feeling really good about myself if I get outside to walk...to McDonalds. (See #1.)
  • Looking ahead and getting excited about what is on the horizon. Please remind me of this when in 6 weeks I am up to my eyeballs in to-do lists, running on fumes and have been swallowed by all my laundry.


On anger.

It's an election year and times are hard, so of course, emotions are running high. And there is finger-pointing and name-calling and a whole lot of passing the buck. Nothing new.

And yet...

And yet I feel it--this thick cloud simmering, rumbling, wickedly permeating. It is seeping into my breakfast as I scan the news. It is enveloping my soup at lunch as my co-worker asks "Have you heard..." It socks me in the stomach as I watch that YouTube clip and it nibbles my ear as I wait in line at the grocery store.

And it scares me and it messes me up a bit because I know that sure, I can turn off the TV and put down the magazine and who really cares what that person said on Facebook anyway?

Freedom of speech and all that, and if there is anyone who understands that double edged sword, it is someone who grew up in my hometown--the home of that infamous hate group that I will not mention lest I actually give them more traffic to fund their horrible protests across the nation.

But you see, I can't just walk away because if I do, I just say "oh well!" to that guy that sits next to me at church who spouts off something downright hateful on the way out to the parking lot and I say "doesn't matter!" to the cringe-worthy comments at Thanksgiving and eventually, after you say "it just isn't worth fighting for" so many times, well, suddenly, you start to wonder...what is?

And the very hardest part is admitting that the anger that I see so prevalently all around me--the anger that I see as so completely unproductive and frightening and hurtful and totally distracting us from actually finding solutions--it is in me too.


A little to the left.

A: So I was thinking of hanging this level with the bookcase. You know, like the mirror.

Me: What? No. Too high. I think you should bring it down a bit.

A: Huh? Really? That doesn't make sense. Look. (pause for demonstration)

Me: Yeah. Still think you're wrong. See? (pause for demonstration)

A: Maybe we should move it to this wall instead...? (pause for demonstration)

Me: No way! And draw attention to the million books always laying there? I prefer the other wall that, you know, accents our dead plant.

A: Let's talk about this later.


Late breaking news:

1. My Chapstick just ran out. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

2. You guys. Did you know that you can now get DIPPED CONES at McDonalds?! YES! It is true! I would not lie about something like this! ***Extremely important disclaimer: If, out of your extreme excitement over eating said dipped cone, you somehow find yourself tentatively reaching out your hand to accept a sad blob of a cone that is still dripping--yes, dripping--in chocolate syrup that has yet to harden into a delicious crispy shell because Ms. McDonalds is seriously not on her A-game? My friends, I beg of you, STOP YOURSELF! You deserve a dipped cone that doesn't drip all down your arm and on your shoes and leave speckled brown trails of chocolate all the way to your chair! (I mean, be nice about it to Ms. McDonalds...but seriously.)***

3. I just typed the phrase: "...I guess the monkeys just gave me gumption!" and then hit Send. And THAT is what a B.S. in Communications can do for YOU.

Dipped Cone
Image cred.