Denial is just a river in Egypt...

Tonight I am staying in. Tonight I am watching a movie. I may not even call the 'rents. In the next 3 days I'll be attending 4 holiday/other parties:

Thurs: lunch with Tech Serv Dept at a Country Club
Fri: lunch (I'll be making my strata) at Waverly's with the Kid's Dept.
Fri eve: party at Kelly's
Sat eve: graduation party for Jay.

I never leave shopping this close to the end, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. And this girl's gotta veg.

In the desert prepare the way for the LORD...

(Isaiah 40:3, NIV)

I had a plan...to use the rest of the imdb.com quotes from A Charlie Brown Christmas for titles until Christmas came. But a lot of the quotes are long, so I decided not. But they're pretty good anyways.

This morning I used my remote control (that's what it's for) to turn on my stereo and grabbed my Bible, which opened to Isaiah 40. The book of Isaiah is my favorite. It is what got me through my senior year of college. It is what has gotten me through a lot.

This is my favorite verse (of all time).

"A bruised reed he will not break, and a smouldering wick he will not snuff out." (Isaiah 42:3, NIV)

I so often feel like this--a bruised reed or a dimly burning wick (the RSV wording). It's basically saying the same thing as the New Testament verse, 1 Corinthians 10:13. But there's less poetry. I'm all about poetry, folks.

"No test or temptation that comes your way is beyond the course of what others have had to face. All you need to remember is that God will never let you down; he'll never let you be pushed past your limit; he'll always be there to help you come through it." (The Message)

But GUESS WHAT? (back to poetry--or rather photography.) This picture was featured in a post in October. I wrote that it mirrored my mood at the moment.

Well, yesterday was my first walk in AGES! And guess what? There's a new garage door! I could have danced the Snoopy happy dance! Plus I took more pictures too.

Isn't it purty? Shiny and new--it's like an early Christmas present!

This is me, holding a piece of ice from Lake Carnegie (yes, that's it's actual name, though it's really a pond) that is triangular in shape. I dragged out my Joy bracelet and am wearing it until December 16, as a memorial. I love ya, sis!

Doesn't this look like a picture postcard?

The triangular piece of ice, sans my hand. Check out the tiny feather (left side).


I set it free (it was stuck behind a rock). There were other triangular pieces--I wonder if that's a thing about ice, physically speaking.

I don't wanna work, another in a series...

So I'm alone in Tech Serv tonight. Ellie was here earlier, and she wasn't going to let me check DDC (Dewey Decimal) numbers if I still had videos to class and add.

I don't work well in Tech Serv by myself if I'm tired and not necessarily motivated. But I've added 8 videos or DVDs to the collection, and identified as many for lookup in OCLC.

I'm listening to Pandora, which is an Internet Radio Station (sort of). I've created a station that plays Brazilian samba, which I've called "The Girl from Ipanema." It's amazing how many versions there are of that one song and variations on other songs. But I love the soft jazziness and it's good background music. I don't really know any Portugeues, but it was my first language (we lived in Belem du Para at the mouth of the Amazon in Brazil until I was two.)

I'm re-reading Adriana Trigliani's Big Cherry Holler. It's wonderful, and good to be reading in times like these when the Sago families want answers not theories on why the mines killed their kin.

Well, back to work. I have about a half hour to get something accomplished or at least started...

Practicing in belief: 6 impossibles before breakfast

Woo hoo, I had an amazing walk. And I believed in at least six impossible things. Go forth and do likewise...

More laughter in the morning, woo hoo!

(or why Cameron got droves of people responding on Sunday...this morning in an email it was like a hit myself with the forehead moment. I was using the old model. Watch the You-tubes, you'll see.)



So, I visited Heidi's blog and watched the You Tube on Eve.Harmony, which is hysterical, and then visited Paul and watched a bunch of "I'm a Christian, and I'm a Christ Follower" which sort of plays on the Emergent/Traditional church...

Happy Tuesday, and enjoy.

(yes, she who laughs at the future and laughs at herself will never be without things to laugh about, I'm GOING FOR MY WALK!)

Take Joy! A Tasha Tudor Christmas evening among friends...

Tasha (yes, that's her name, she was named after Tasha Tudor, a family friend) invited the rest of the Technical Services Department over for dessert. It will be small, she said.

Understatement of the year.

It was beautiful. First, their tree is a blue spruce, not trimmed. With real candles on the tree. She lit them for us after everyone had arrived, and turned out all the lights. All her ornaments were either big balls that have pictures from Tasha Tudor greeting cards or wooden from Germany. She's been to Germany many times. She also has some Scandinavian ones, which I recognized as such. She even had one Polish one, a blue bird, painted exquisitely.

Our tree, the one at my parent's house, has Scandinavian, German, and all sorts of ornaments, so I felt right at home.

We sat around the dining room table--Tasha had ice cream that was formed in molds--mine was in the shape of grapes, Alice got a hen, Ellie had a rabbit, and so on. Alice didn't want to pour hot fudge on her hen, or eat it--I offered to trade but she didn't want to do that either. We sat around and shared stories for two hours! We laughed and laughed--it reminded me why we have holidays (besides the religious reasons, I mean), to share food and fellowship with friends and family.

I'm still the junior member--I don't have stories about children or grandchildren, so no one asked me if I'd decorated my house yet. But I did entertain them with stories like when my brother expected a toothbrush from Santa (we got one every year) and threw his old one out Christmas Eve. It was the one year Santa didn't give out toothbrushes...

So it's beginning to feel a bit like Christmas...did I mention my new favorite Christmas song, Trees on Fire? It's a parody of Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire.

(The post title refers to Tasha Tudor's Christmas book, a perennial favorite in the Louise household.)

Online Advent Calendars n'at... (with a little blah humbug squeezed in)

This one is cool--and fascinating, that it gives Protestant and Catholic readings. Thanks to PCUSA Blog.

This one doesn't seem clued in that today is Dec 11, but I like it anyways.

Last night I called Erin. We both agreed that we're just not feeling it this year. I hope you are.

I don't feel like doing the Christmas Meme, because to me, Christmas has always been about traveling, not tradition.

This year it's a little less crazy than it would have been. My brother is going to be in Virginia, so I'll drive down. We were possibly going to fly to Austin.

Here's the kind of conversation my mom and I have been having lately:

Me: So, did you talk to J?
Mom: Yes, we did. Did you?
Me: Yes, so, what are our plans?
Mom: You talked to him already--are you trying to figure out if I know what you know? He's coming up to Virginia pretty soon.
Me: Okay.

Can't fool her!

Take a deep breath. January will be here soon.

Oh, and for easy access to posts that allow you to either laugh, ponder, or take a deep breath, new feature on the left, "Favorite Shoes." I may rename it, but that's what came to me.

Where other people are obsessed with the idea that I am always reinventing myself, I'd rather think that I'm shedding my layers, and slowly revealing

myself. It feeels to me like I'm just getting closer to the core of who I really am. (Madonna)

Yesterday I was in a conversation with a woman after the budgeting class I've been attending and I said, I feel like I'm getting younger, as I deal with things. She asked me how old I thought she was. I, flabbergasted, said, I have no idea. The woman is fifty. I would have said 43 if pressed. She is gorgeous. And she's dating one of the nicest, most scatterbrained guys at Bellefield. He does roofs.

I feel like as I let go of Joy's death and Peter's death and as I let go of the sludge of my early dating life, I am becoming lighter. More Sarah Louise. The layers are coming off.

ooh ooh! Two literary allusions:

From the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, when the boy becomes a dragon and then de-dragonified, and from The Ragman.

Hold the phone, lemme get my books.

From How the Adventure Ended, the de-dragonifying of Eustace:

"...and I thought to myself, oh dear, how ever many skins have I got to take off?
...
...then the lion said...You will have to let me undress you. I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty near desperate now." (p. 89, C.S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader)

From The Ragman, (one of my favorite short stories of all time)

"...I myself walked up to the Ragman. I told him my name with shame, for I was a sorry figure next to him. Then I took off all my clothes in that place, and I said to him with dear yearning in my voice: 'Dress me.'
He dressed me. My Lord he put new rags on me and I am a wonder beside him." (p. 6, Walter Wangerin, The Ragman and other Cries of Faith.)

I'd write about this and stuff, but it's time to get this morning going, and as usual, I have quite a day ahead.

Oh, and check out a new link on Church Shoes, Adrian, a friend of Pat's who I think lives in SanFran. He's got some pretty interesting stuff on there, and it's easier for me if it's a link on the left, so there you go.

Oh, and last night (or this morning) I dreamt I went to Chestertown.

According to most studies, people's number one fear is public speaking. Number two is death. Death is number two.

"Does that sound right? This means to the average person, if you go to a funeral, you're better off in the casket than doing the eulogy.” (Jerry Seinfeld)

I do not fear public speaking. Communication is my thing. I write, I talk, I talk in front of people--hey, I was a Mary Kay consultant! I fear not being understood, not getting a response.

Welcome to my nightmare.

I'm trying to get something started for a Women's Ministry at the OD, because I NEED the companionship and fellowship, BADLY. So part of that is starting to get women excited about a Women's Gathering at Bellefield, our mother church (the OD is a church plant). So today I had a chance to get up and give an announcement and in the middle I felt so wooden, I was just reading from the paper and I think I just lost everyone or maybe no one else feels this need to have a women's ministry. My dear friend Cameron gave an announcement after me. He had no script, he was loose and hip and genuine and everyone flocked to him afterwards.

At the beginning of the service, I was fresh, I had just had a nap. "Wow, you look rested" more than one person said to me. After the service (after my humiliating moment up front and the non-response to it) someone said, "You look really tired." Ya think?

But later, as I did some retail therapy -- yes, tulips at Whole Foods along with the milk I did need -- I thought, it's about priming the pump. And it's not about me, it's about God's plan. So maybe if I was initially successful, I wouldn't remember, Oh, I'm not the one in control here, God is. It wasn't the words I said or didn't say. If all those women that said "oh how was your Mary Kay party, oh yeah, it would be nice to have some girl time" had come up to me and said, SIGN ME UP, DUDE! I might have forgotten who I'm in this for to begin with.

I think I threw them off when I started with this verse: "She is clothed with strength and dignity and she laughs at the time to come." (Proverbs 31:25, NIV)

Oh well. Tomorrow is another day. I think it's time to break out that last beer in the fridge.

Learning to be me...

A few things:

Like Chandler, I use humor to disfuse situations. You will rarely find me posting about something of deepness without a tidbit at the end that disfuses it.

(That long pause--you didn't notice it?--was me looking for a good Chandler quote. What good is the Internet for if not for quotes from the bestest TV show ever, Friends?)

Okay, here's one:

Rachel: Guess what, GUESS WHAT?
Chandler: The fifth dentist finally caved and now they ALL recommend Trident?

I got it from imdb.com, the librarian's answer to "who was in that movie with that girl from 90210?"

See, I'm doing it again.

Last year at Lent, I had a journal. In the front, I had a quote from Soren Kierkegaard, "And now, with God's help, I shall become myself." I have to interject here that I've still not read any of Kierkegaard's books, I'm still relying on random quotes. Same with Camus. Maybe that should be my New Year's Resolution: to read Kierkegaaard and Camus.

Oh, did I get off track again?

This is one of those "experiment in writing" posts.

And I haven't had breakfast yet...

Well, anyways, tune in tomorrow, when I gather my brain cells once more to bring you the loveliness of my bloggy mind.

Oh here's a tidbit. It wasn't last year at Lent, it was this year. Except that my mind is still tuned to the academic calendar. Oh boy. I need breakfast.

The girl who didn't live: Joy Cherene Louise, b. December 8, 1975

This post will probably only be up for a day as I'm not really sure I'm ready to share this, but I think I'll feel better when I do.

The day before yesterday was the 65th anniversary of Pearl Harbor. It was a Sunday, and though I am way too young to have remembered it, it resonates in me because I have listened to Moira Kelly describe that day through the eyes of Sara Louise Bradshaw (yes, my namesake) in Jacob Have I Loved, the audio version.

Yesterday, December 8, 2006, was my sister Joy's 31st birthday. Joy Cherene lived about 20 days, because thirty one years ago premies didn't live. Cherene is probably spelled wrong, but it's the word in Farsi (the language of the Persion people) for sweetness. My mom lived in Iran for three years before my folks got married. If you haven't heard that story, well, it's a good one. I'll save it for Valentine's Day, though.

When I was in ninth grade and all depressed (ninth grade sucks for everyone!) I went to a therapist, and all she wanted to talk about was Joy and Peter. Which at the time I figured wasn't that important. And at the time, it wasn't.

But last year, as my new therapist was trying to piece together my history, all of a sudden I needed to know. So one time when my dad was visiting, we sat in the café at Fox Books and I got all the dates from him. Joy was born in December. I think (I don't have that paper in a place readily available--euphemism for it's lost) that Peter was born in April. He died about 20 days later too. I was six or seven.

So yesterday, driving to Oakland, I thought, today is something, I have to know. So first I called my house and then my dad's cell phone. Later in the day he called me, to ask me about something but also to tell me that yes, it was Joy's birthday, and that he'd be arranging for flowers on her grave.

Her grave is in Poplar Lakes, NJ, where my mom grew up. It's the family grave site. My grandparents are there, my Aunt Margaret, my Uncle Klaus, and Joy and Peter. I guess depending on who I marry I'll be buried there too.

I talked to my mom briefly last night and she said, "Honey, I talked to Daddy about it and I think at this point it's more important to you than it is to us." She wasn't being cold, but it's true. My mom has gotten past the pain (I almost typed pasta--which makes me giggle in this very somber post.) The last time she and I talked about Joy and Peter, she said, yes, Joy died, but we had you. You were our joy. Yes, Peter died, but we had you. It is wonderful for me that my mother is past the pain, because for years she couldn't forgive God. But apparently the pain has been passed on to me. All of yesterday, I brought out my grief, as if it was something to hold in my hands, and examined it. Is it okay for me to grieve a sister I never knew? I have the bestest sister anyone could ask for. But Joy was a person, and one I never met, because thirty one years ago a four year old would not be allowed into the NicU.

Good grief, now I have to get ready for work. Here's a tidbit of a conversation with my chiropractor (yes, I'm now seeing the chiropractor three times a week, for the next six weeks.)

Dr. P: So how big is your staff?
Me: About 100 or so.
Dr. P: Wow, and you're in charge of all of them?
Me: (thinking, where did he get THAT idea) um, no.

I don't have a staff, I am the staff. Talking to your chiropractor whilst he is adjusting your back is a little better than talking to your dentist. At least you can answer intelligently because your mouth isn't full.

Friendship, like crime, is a simple matter of means, motive, and opportunity.

(Malcolm Gladwell, in the Foreword to Roger and Sally Horchow's book, The Art of Friendship.)

On my desk:

4 different years of Leisure Arts Presents The Spirit of Christmas. (I'm supposed to figure out if the 20th anniversary edition would be in fact, book 20.)


Brian Wildsmith's Mother Goose (did you know Little Bo Peep has 5 verses?) I'm supposed to change the barcode to a 13 digit barcode as it currently has an 8 digit barcode, which has not been used in this library for two years!!

To check out:

The Art of Friendship (see above)

Peace like a River by Leif Engler (audio, read by Chad Lowe.)

***********

Today is my tenth day in a row. I am so burned out--and Happy Feet was not the diversion I'd hoped (wait for my fortcoming review--do not go willy nilly to the theatre for this flick!)

But a few good things:

Sally R. (the one who used to live downstairs) gave me my birthday/Christmas gift: sugar cubes! Not just any sugar cubes, these have icing on them with pictures of purses, shoes, tea cups...I'll take a picture. I have always thought sugar cubes were so high class and have never purchased them--I squealed with delight.

I ran into Babs while she was running. (Well, I didn't literally run into her.) I backed up, and we talked through my open car door. It was so nice to see her!!

I went to Fox Books and saw an old co-worker, who also volunteers at my library on occasion.

And how could I forget my sumptious meal at Chili's? A friend waitresses there and I try to stop by when I can. I had the Quesadilla Explosion salad and it was the sort of food that made you say thanks the whole time you ate it, it was that good.

And (now it's 10:41 and I've done all sorts of fun things including driving home, looking for black ice all the way. I only skidded a little on the entry to the tunnel that takes you onto the Bloomfield Bridge.) I just added a new blog to the right, Days Go By. (Yes, it's a Talking Heads reference!!!)

Get the biggest aluminum tree you can find, Charlie Brown, maybe painted pink. (UPDATED!!)

(Lucy Van Pelt, in A Charlie Brown Christmas)

So, I've been stressed, I've been stretched. I am to the point of snarkiness. But look, it's snowing outside! And I don't have to be anywhere for...twenty minutes! So, for you, (and for me, because after all, it's ALL ABOUT ME) some Christmas/snow pictures. Enjoy. It's really coming down out there... I brought the tree up from the basement, put on Erasure (yes, they talk about snow and being cold and staying inside on there) and decorated.

It made me feel better, it did. Oh, look, it's really snowing, I just took a few more pictures!!

My skylight, blanketed with snow.

The view outside my window--my car, blanketed with snow.

The view outside my bathroom window--other roofs, blanketed with snow.

It's time to say goodbye to birthday flowers and the pincushion plant...

Mistletoe, need I say more?

Oh look, it's a Duralite tree! With ornaments and stuff! Can you find the nativity scene?

Here it is, close up. I have other pieces (a Baby Jesus, a Shepherd and a sheep) but they are huge compared to these pieces...

Shards of shells from South Carolina. Can you find the heart shaped shell?

The bird on the top of the tree.

What's a Christmas scene without a lit candle? (Yes, those are birthday cards--I don't have any Christmas ones yet, so deal with it!

These are actually from the lobby of the theatre at the Children's Museum on the North Side, but don't they look festive?

Snow on the Creasy's car, from the retreat.

A closeup of the tree at the South Side Works.

My aunt's tiny tree in South Carolina.

Snow on my car, a picture from a few days ago.

I thought there were some more pictures...I'll track them down later...

Oh, and drive safely! I did some slip sliding down a hill on the way to work and EVERYONE on Rt 8 was driving below the speed limit (and no one was complaining!). It's like a bad joke, How do you get Pittsburghers to drive the speed limit? Drop an inch of snow.

...I wanna be a Toys R Us Kid

(the first part of that song being: I don't wanna grow up...)

Just got off the phone with Kelly who bless her heart told me to give myself grace. Both of us traveled at Thanksgiving and will be traveling at Christmas and right now she's doing most of the parenting as her DH finishes up his Ph.D. work.

It was such a breath of fresh air, to have someone tell me to give myself grace, to slow down, to take it one day at a time. Because frankly, right now, I am so overwhelmed I could cry (actually, I did, on the phone with Kelly, which totally surprised me--I didn't realize how exhausted and overwhelmed I was.)

So take heart, dear Internets. He comes with healing in his wings, Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace.

Off to the allergist!!

A tribute to Hey Ya, Charlie Brown

It was getting embarrassing, the amounts of times I was visiting Urban Saddle to watch this U-tube, so I went and got my own account, so here it is:



The resolution is not as good as the one on US. I don't have the energy to go back to U-tube and see why that is...I love this video because I love the Peanuts characters. They are so human. I mean, don't we all have Charlie Brown days? And when Snoopy licks Lucy...classic! I like watching the kids dance and Linus and Sally stepping in tempo time (can you imagine having to do the animation--folks, this was before computers did all that!)

And I like this Outkast song--so you put the two together and it's like peanut butter and chocolate!!

Another interesting thing--I have to write this in the HTML mode on Blogger b/c otherwise the "Compose" mode eats up part of the HTML and the U-tube doesn't post.

I realize I haven't started writing about Christmas--all the cool kids are doing Christmas memes n'at. I just don't feel Christmasy yet--maybe tomorrow I'll bring up my tree (a tiny artificial table top tree that belonged to my grandma.)

But note that I changed the header to "a rum pa pum pum" (from "The little drummer boy.")

You can dance, go and carry on, till the night is gone...

...but don't forget who's taking you home
so, darlin' save the last dance for me. (Ben E. King)

This will be played at my wedding. No, you haven't missed a news flash, but I do have a few things planned because I know it will be a great day, someday.

A few days ago I spoke about dancing and how I don't like dancing with strangers. I've been to swing nights where I loved the music and I danced with men twice my age who wanted to talk while dancing and I just didn't want to. I understand intimacy, and it's hard for me to give that away. I know myself to be very vulnerable in male/female situations because I've been hurt, badly. But I have also healed, and I want the prize, so I keep putting myself out there.

It's interesting for me, because this blog venture allows me to read your lives too: which of you love your husbands, which of you would shove them under a bus, which of you tolerate the man. So I know that sometimes I must seem like the most naive of the bunch, a dew eyed teenager with puppy love. (Although if I have puppy love, you'll probably not know 'til it's a little more established because I have a pretty wide readership and some things just have to coalesce in private.)

I have accepted fear as a part of life--specifically the fear of change. I have gone ahead despite the pounding in the heart that says: turn back. (Erica Jong.)

Writer's note: I wrote this about a week ago and this morning I thought I'd have to edit and stuff, but it pretty much stands alone.

Oh, and Happy St. Nicholas Day! Did you get charcoal or oranges in your shoes this morning?

Some books I happen to be cataloguing...

This one is twisted, but FUNNY!!: The Rejection Collection: Cartoons you never saw, and never will see, in The New Yorker. Don't say I didn't warn you, but you will laugh out loud and say, oh, that is just SO wrong. From the jacket flap, "Too risqué, silly, or weird for The New Yorker, the cartoons in this book offer something no other collection has: They have never been seen in print until now." Bonus features: a handwritten questionaire filled out by each of the cartoonists. DDC: 741.56973 (Caricatures--United States)

Weird and Wonderful Words. On the cover (illustrated by Roz Chast, one of my favorites) are illustrated the words Hodmandod, Pollictor, Gammerstang, Mammothrept and Batie-Bummil.
Inside you'll find definitions to such words as iconomach, "a rare word meaning 'one who is hostile to images.'" DDC: 423.10207 (Speller-dividers--English language, . . ./Humorous Treatment)

Robbing the Bees: A Biography of Honey, the sweet liquid gold that seduced the world. From the back cover, "Honey has been waiting almost ten million year for a good biography." DDC: 638.16 (Honey processing)

Just in time for Christmas or any other gift-giving holiday: Gifted: 1,000 gift ideas for everyone in your life. Chapters are broken out into types of giftees: The Gadget Geek, The Princess, The Mommy-any-Minute. There's even a chapter of Get Well Gifts (I had to see what The Laid up and Lonely was.) Some suggestions, should you have to come up with a last minute feel better friend gift:

• Comfortable Pajamas
• Books on Tape
• Bright Silk Pillowcases

(Yes, each gift has its own website listed, and a nifty system of letting you know how expensive the gift is: one box with a ribbon is up to $25, five boxes is over $500.) DDC: 394 (General customs)

Yes, this is the glam life of the Technical Services Librarian. New books, I love them so! They even smell wonderful.

********

This just in: Pittsburgh has a new neighborhood, Eastside. Yes, it's not quite geographically Shadyside, but they don't want to call it East Liberty (too ghetto?) so retailers (and some residents) have taken on the name of the development company as the geographic label for the area where we now have a Whole Foods, Walgreens, Starbucks, and YES YES YES, a new Borders. The Grand Opening is this weekend, click on the link for the schedule. I have never seen Joe Grushecky in person, so I might have to wander over...I adore acoustic live music...

Wake up, sleepyhead...

Guess who woke up at 8:15?? Me! And the first laugh of the morning goes to the folks at the Today show. Gosh I like them...

Oh, they're interviewing Burt Bacharach now, gotta go!

But not before I mention that the interview occured at our own Heinz Hall, as he played here back on November 12.

Geography Lesson: How to be a rebellious Pittsburgher (plus books!)

Let's see.

Today I left the house by 8:20ish. I arrived home at 5:45pm. Gosh, that doesn't sound like a day off...but as a result of this morning's Children's District meeting I don't have to go into work until 5 pm on Thursday, woo hoo! I might catch a matinee!! (Suggestions??)

The point of living in Pittsburgh is to stay within a five mile radius of your house. I break this every day when I leave the city to go to work in the North Hills. (13 or so miles, plus one river.)

Because that's the other thing in Pittsburgh--all these bridges and the point of life in Pittsburgh is to not cross rivers. Well, today, not only did I drive to the South Hills (13 miles), I also:

• drove through 2 tunnels (or the rather the same tunnel, both directions.)
• crossed two rivers twice. (Mon, Mon, Allegheny, Allegheny)
• went to the South Hills for the morning and the North Hills for the afternoon.

I'm such a rebel!

**************
I continue to read Good Will by Jane Smiley (the second novella in the collection of two novellas called Ordinary Love and Good Will.) I heart Jane Smiley. She is just superb.

Also reading How to be Perfect by Jean Kerr (who also wrote plays, including Please Don't Eat the Daisies). HTBP is a collection of essays and it is delightful. It reminds me of Erma Bombeck or Peg Bracken. I'm sure Kerr's book is out of print, so it will now be my quest to find a copy.

I tried Lee Smith again (The Last Girls) and, nope, I just don't get her. Let me know if you love her, I'll pay postage within the U.S. Send me an email this week, or it goes to Goodwill.

And today I did my last bit of homework on Beth Moore's study on The Patriarchs. Oh how I love love love Beth Moore. Tomorrow at Women's Bible Study will be the last video session and then starting in January we'll be doing a book about being Mary in a Martha world? Something like that. It's hard to believe that the new year will be here very soon!! (No, I will not admit that Christmas is just three short weeks from now....)

I seriously could take a nap...which I might, since I'll be up at ten, to watch Studio 60...

I'm having some gals over Saturday for a Mary Kay party--a dear friend is qualifying to be a director and so to show her support, I'm having this party for her. I still have to invite more folks, but that nap thing is sounding really tempting....

************
Tried taking a nap: Sis called, Sally called, Kelly called. Oh well, I did catch a few winks and I did dishes while Kelly told me about her day.

10 mins to Studio 60!!

More Psalms...

So, here it is, the seventh day in a row that I'm doing something work related. (It feels like it's the ninth day in a row...) And the first thing I wanted to do when I woke up was email someone about something...

Something told me to STOP. So I picked up Tim Bott's exquisitely illustrated Psalms (someone special got it for me for my birthday--I said, how did you know? He said, when we were at Fox Books you only fawned over it for five minutes.) (Smiling, now, remembering that...) (Oh, he's married to someone else now, but it was a great moment in my life.)

So, I tend to make notes in books or put bookmarkers. Well, I would never write in this book unless it was to inscribe it for a gift, it is that exquisite. But I had bookmarked a page, so that's where I opened and it was like a megaphone to my life. (Psalm 127.)

Unless
THE LORD
BUILDS A HOUSE
The work of the builders is useless

It is useless for you to work so hard
from early morning until late at night
anxiously working for food to eat

For God gives rest to his loved ones.

(In the book, it's one of the ones he calligraphies, so it looks like the roof of a house.) This is one of my favorite Psalms. In my RSV Bible, which was given to me when I was confirmed in the Presbyterian church in seventh grade, this has a ton of dates. (I put dates by verses to mark when they hit me like a megaphone or when I'm praying them. I pray this Psalm a lot.)

Can you see why this would be a megaphone, on the seventh day of working in a row??? A few things in my life are not coming out the way I would want them to, and I have to remember that all my striving is useless "unless the Lord builds a house" for that thing in my life.

Humble pie, that's what I'll be having for breakfast. It's always better if you fix it yourself than if you eat it after making a face plant (BELIEVE ME ON THIS ONE.)

So, thanks for reading and I'll try to make sure I do something restful today...

Shake it, Shake it, shake it like a polaroid...

Please no more therapy
Mother take care of me
Piece me together with a
needle and thread
Wrap me in eiderdown
Lace from your wedding gown
Fold me and lay me down
On your bed...

("Polaroids", Shawn Colvin, off her 1992 release fat city)

I enjoy working Sundays at the library. I'm the only children's librarian, it's four hours, and people are doing homework, so they have interesting reference questions. But I am beyond BEAT! The sermon was undeniably one of John's best, but it took every inch of me to concentrate because I was so bone tired.

I had a chicken salad sandwich for dinner and now I'm having waffles and a beer. Then, bed. Because I have to be in White Hall by nine tomorrow! (That's South Hills--yes, in Pittsburgh, it takes over a half hour to go 13 miles....) (Not factoring in rush hour traffic...) I must really love being a children's librarian or something...

It's new, it's improved, it's...

Okay, there's something up with Blogger--I can only compose in the lovely "you must know HTML" (which I do, fools, it's called Library School) mode.

Anyways, in the interest of not boring yins and moi, I have decided to share something new. It's called "Sarah Louise's First Laugh of the Morning."

Today it goes to My Float, whose list to Santa is very mom and very wonderful. If I get the link on her name, be all impressed with my HTML skills.

Or, my fabulous research skills which led me to the blogger status page.

You'll note there are already a few in the category "first laugh of the morning" because I started noting this a few days ago but it was My Float's witticism that decided it needed to be a regular item. I'm sure you'll agree and if you don't, keep it to yourself!!

My dad often quotes a lady (I don't remember who) saying "If you don't have anything nice to say, come sit by me." However, if you have bad comments (and I hardly ever get any--yins have such great manners) keep them to yourself.

BTW, the sky is GORGEOUS here in da Burgh. Or it was, when I began this post. Now it's kind of grey/cloudy.

I don't know that this will be a daily category, but time will only tell...

I'm sure this never happens to you...

So, today I was going to work, 9-5. Busted! I had leg cramps and all over feeling wretched, so I worked from 9:45 to 1.

So, usually I take Sunday off. Busted! My co-worker's grandma died so I'm working her hours. But, that gives me extra hours (to make up for leaving early today).

So, I watched movies (well, fell asleep during Runaway Bride) and just as Akeelah and the Bee was finishing, my cell phone rang! I love that sound, b/c unlike my regular phone, I never get telemarketers!

It was Sandy, who wondered if I wanted to meet her for dinner. SURE! So I went to the Union Station Cafe and talked about how I was going to Babette's Feast. Maria showed up too. How much I love that movie, how a friend of mine runs movies...and I got home around 7:15 and thought, there is no way I'm going out again.

Well, I did, but not to see Babette and her feasting. I got two beers at the mini-mart on Friendship Ave and some more heating pads at Walgreens and I'm drawing a bath as I write this.

It's called flexibility. I can't wait to go to bed early!!

In the House of Stone and Light...

A comment left by Sistahe reminded me of this song (because she referred to Psalm 91.)

I will not rest till I lay down my head
In the house of stone and light
I make my way
O gonna be such a beautiful day
In the house of stone and light
In the house of stone and light
Let me in beneath my skin
In the house of stone and light
It's been too long
My spirit's been at war
Havasupai Shaman
Let me be reborn

(Page Martin)

Happy Birthday, Boston

My junior year of high school, I met a girl who became my friend for lo, many years. Today is her birthday. We're not exactly in communication, but December 2 is always a red letter day on my calendar.

So sing a few rounds of the Birthday song...

Because you were one of my gold ones.

The King of Love my Shepherd is

The King of Love my Shepherd is,
Whose goodness faileth never;
I nothing lack if I am His
And He is mine forever. (Henry W. Baker, 1868)

The summer before I was diagnosed bipolar was a trying one. I knew there was something wrong (I'd experienced insomnia at least once a month for months on end, my work was suffering, I was often paranoid). In April, I broke up with the man I had been dating. In early June, he tried to reconcile, and slowly we did, such that we were dating again by July 4th. I was seeking God every day on behalf of myself and this relationship. My walks in the morning were not let's look at nature, but let's come before God and find out what's what. I clung to the Twenty-third Psalm. When the darkness seemed to close in, I would hold onto my desk at the back of Fox Books, in the Children's Department, and recite from memory the Psalm my mother had taught me as a child for a bedtime prayer.

The shadow of the valley of deep darkness--I was acquainted with it, keenly. So, after I started my recovery, after my bipolar diagnosis, that Psalm only reminded me of that trying time. That time of intense suffering and confusion in my life. A time when I was scared because I didn't know where I was headed. I stopped saying it, and whenever it came to mind, I shut it away, so as to not remember that dark time.

I know that God can redeem anything, and this week, Beth Moore exorted to us that the only reason we get hardships as believers is because God has said yes to Satan and God has a bigger plan for that trial. That trial will result in more glory.

This morning, I was a mess. Everything, from an email from a friend to a song on the radio triggered me to tears. I felt like I was in the middle of the desert, with no oasis in sight. But I knew people were praying for me, and I knew that Jesus is always praying for me. I recited Scripture. I checked blogs. I sent emails. I listened to Shawn Colvin, especially Polaroids, from her album, fat city. I called my father and my sister and left messages on their phones. I somehow made it through the day.

And what a day it was: calm and balmy, then blustery, then deluges of Biblical proportion. On the way to work I actually turned off the road for a few minutes, it was raining so hard. When I got to work, the sky cleared a little bit and I walked in with my jacket wrapped around me. By the time it was time to go for my birthday lunch at Chili's, the rain had begun again. Just as we sat in our seats at Chili's, the deluge began again. All day it was like this. And then the sun came out. And then the clouds came back. It's what we here in da Burgh call "Severe Weather."

At 5:30 p.m., the library had a power outtage. For whatever reason, the emergency back up lights did not come on. It was already dark outside. You picture a library full of patrons and especially children, how they might react. Thankfully one of my co-workers, Sally (yes, another one!) was with me and I took our one flashlight to where I knew there were more. After some time, we evacuated the building. At six, Sally and I left, since our shifts were over. The six o'clock people would stay until all the kids waiting for rides had been picked up and then the library would be locked and left for the night.

I had no idea if there was electricity in Highland Park, and I knew that I didn't have food in the freezer even if we did have light. So I had dinner at Taco Bell, where I did my Beth Moore homework. And I commenced my drive home. And just as I was cresting the hill on McKnight Blvd, where there's a church with a Nativity scene up front, I turned off the radio and started praying. God, I know that you love me. God, I know that you won't test me beyond what I can stand. And I started repeating scripture and recalling promises God has in his Word. And at some point, as I crossed the Allegheny River on the Veteran's Bridge, the words to the Twenty Third Psalm came to me. "He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake." "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death, I will not be afraid." And I could say these verses, which have been locked in my brain as a memory of that sad summer, smiling, laughing, singing.

And I sang praise songs all the way home.

We serve an awesome God--if we would only humble ourselves before him, he will lift us up.

I suppose I knew that someday God would return that Psalm to me, that someday it wouldn't taste like sawdust on my tongue. It was a complete and utter surprise to me when the words just came to my mind and I could feel the joy bubbling up.

It's only six verses. But how powerful they are:

Psalm 23 (RSV)

A Psalm of David.

1The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
3He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness
for his name's sake.
4Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.

5You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD
forever.

And the band played on... (World AIDS Day)

Erin does it again! Today is World AIDS day and she of course remembered.

What I am is what I am are you what you are or what?

(Edie Brickell & the New Bohemians)

Things I am/roles I play:

• The Queen of Angst (as opposed to the King of Pain)
• The Older Brother in the story of the Prodigal Son (I always thought I was the Prodigal Son!)
• Young looking for my age (a co-worker at my birthday lunch today thought I was 25!) (Smile)
• Obsessed with pink (well, that's not a news flash)
• Loved. That's an easy one to forget, all the time. But I am.

************************

God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good. (BJ says this a lot at the OD.)

Happy Friday, yins!

My first laugh of the morning

From my Fabulous Broads page-a-day calendar:

"Ask a man if you need help clearing the table. He'll plunk the plates on the first clear surface and leave. Women hang around being helpful and hiding things."

(Writer Peg Bracken, most known for the I Hate To Cook Book.)

IT'S FRIDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dancing: the Trinity and us

We just had an OD Community Meeting. Generally I come home from these and want to cry myself to sleep because although we are the coolest church I know and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, they generally happen (coincidence?) at times when I'm already washed out emotionally. And so I have to leave my community to go home, watching them all talk but I have to go home because I am spent.

Home to the answering machine blinking--not that I have a message, but a new number. Someone called, probably a telemarketer, and didn't leave a message.

I feel a little bit less like crying because Sandy asked me for my phone number because she and a friend were looking to hang out with me last night.

I love the community we are becoming, but that's the rub. We are still becoming a community. I often feel like an outsider. Which is, in fact, the story of my life.

Shawn Colvin has a song called "The Story" in which she sings,
"I will always be telling this story...
Sometimes I feel so reckless and wild
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
I gave nobody life, I am nobody's wife
And I seem to be nobody's daughter
So red is the color that I like the best
It's your Indian skin and the badge
on my chest..."

This is a song that I clung to the summer I spent three weeks in Vienna, Austria. I was an outsider, not a Hope College student on this Hope College Vienna Summer School program. I was actually in between schools, leaving Pittsburgh and Carlow College and going to Chestertown where Washington College is located. In a letter, a friend wrote later that year that he thought that summer I always seemed on the fringes, on the outside.

In our discussion group we talked about para-something, the Greek word for the dance of the Trinity. We talked about how in dancing, there is no verbal communication, just the feet, the body moving, together, the next step and the next.

You can't be on the outside in a dance. Which is probably why I don't dance very much--I am afraid of being that close to someone I don't know well. I want to dance with someone I know, someone I trust. Someone that may step on my feet every once in a while but it won't matter because he'll know me well enough to know that his apology will be accepted. And he'll know that I'll step on his feet occasionally too.

We talked about acceptance, and the break down of denominational walls and unity. It was great. We could have talked all night, but we had to put the chairs back and clean up the wine glasses (yes, we had wine and cheese at our church meeting.)

So now I'm home (sweet home) and I think I'll go to bed. A co-worker's grandmother died today and I just want to cry.

We live in such a broken world and we are all broken pieces. I don't feel like I can write the joy into this, but God can. Because though weeping tarries for the night, joy comes in the morning.

Wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and he shall strenghten thine heart; wait, I say on the Lord. (Psalm 27:14)

Grace upon grace: All of his fullness have we recieved, and grace for grace. (John 1:16)

My sister's name was Joy. She would be 30 sometime around now. But she was a premie when premies didn't live, and so I have only seen her grave marker--five year olds weren't allowed into the NicU thirty years ago. I don't know why I've been thinking about her--the soap at my aunt's was Joy dishwashing soap. One of my birthday cards had "Joy by Joy" on it. The verse above, joy comes in the morning.

Last night I tried to encourage Kelly through her broken heart, which is a really hard thing to do well. What I tried (and did pretty badly) to tell her was that her broken heart is what makes her more in tune with the human condition. We are all broken and this brokenness that has rocked her world will make her a more understanding person. A little Nietchze, maybe, that which does not kill us makes us stronger. Stronger in love, if we can get past the tears.

So, as I prepare to crawl under the covers, I offer you this: Cry. It clears out the dust in your soul, and it connects you to people everywhere who are also crying. My mother was fond of saying, "laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and you cry alone." I have not found this to be true. I often am the only one laughing at a particularly dry joke, and when I cry, I know there are many more people crying, even if they are not here in my garret.

My bed calls me by first name..."Sarah Louise, Sarah Louise..." and I must answer its call.

But I'll turn up the radio first, to hear John Denver sing about country roads. Sleep tight.

More new stuff on the right, folks...

First off, we have Amy's blog, Eliza Jane. Amy just completed NaNoWriMo!! 50,000 words is an accomplishment, especially in one of the busiest months of the year (oh, you mean the rest of the world doesn't celebrate it as the month of SL's birthday?).

Then, not to be confused, we have Amy A. She writes Pretty Shiny, and I have linked my favorite post as of yet. Click on the right to get her latest, which includes a link to a contest for a memoir in six words. Kind of the opposite of NaNoWriMo--the contest ends Christmas Day.

They will both be in the "Church Shoes" area, and you'll have to learn how to tell them apart from each other on your own, just like the rest of us.

Charlie Brown and Outkast? It works!

Well, true to my fashion, I rolled out of bed, checked emails and then blogs. This made my day. I hope it makes yours. You need the volume turned up on your speakers, n'at.

Maybe all of today's posts will make up for the day I missed?

As if NaBloPoMo rules my blogging...

So. Today was a surprise in many ways. Good ones, though:

• Got an email from a friend far far away.
• Saw Sally too briefly as I was running late, but boy is Zack huge! He's three, now?
  
• Had a glowing end of the year review from my boss in Children's. And the go-ahead for the secret mission--more on that later...
• Made plans to see Babette's Feast Saturday BEFORE I got the email announcing a huge event at the UP. I need just a quiet night, which the UP event will not be.
• Kelly is still nursing her broken heart (they dated for two years and they still work together--she was not a happy camper.) But we had cheap good food at IKEA (lingonberry juice, YUM) and she had a coupon for buy one get one free at Cold Stone.
  
• My parents (go figure!) sent me a birthday card with a check for thirty five dollars and thirty five cents. The kooks! I don't think I've gotten birthday money from them for a long long time.
  
• Put in the CD-ROM order. If you caught the drama, I thought the money was spent but it was just encumbered--an accounting term I do not understand. Anyways, I spent about $1200 in electronic reasources for the library's juvenile CD-ROM collection, WOO HOO!

And that is all. My bed is calling my name--yes, I've moved from the sofa to the bed, another happy transition.

Julius Lester Blogs!!

Yes, you read right. Julius Lester, author of Sam and the tigers, many re-illustrations of Uncle Remus tales... is now a blogger. And it's not about kid's books. Oh how very cool.

OCLC: Oh, Can Libraries Catalog?

Okay, by now, if you've been reading here awhile, you understand me to be a special kind of geek: the librarian geek.

So I just found the coolest thing that had me mesmerized until I realized I must share it, because surely there is at least one other librarian geek who will think this is the cat's meow or the cat's pajamas, or better than sliced bread...

It's called "Watch Worldcat Grow." OCLC is the largest cataloguing cooperative in the world. They have something called WorldCat, which is online access to their catalog records and often a way for you to find a book in a nearby library through the magic that is Google. (Reserve your anti-Google sentiments for another post--no one's perfect!)

• Worldcat shows you how to search libraries catalogs
• Watch WorldCat Grow: a screen that refreshes every 8 seconds so you can see what's being added right now to libraries worldwide!!

The tale of five friends

Writer's note: This is an example of not writing what you woke up thinking about because you didn't really want to write about it even though you really did.

Pat's tagline for his blog, Urban Saddle, is "An experiment in writing." I like that, because blogging sure is a different medium. I give you, then, the tale of five friends, which is truly an experiment in writing.

***************************************

Don't walk in front of me
I may not follow
Don't walk behind
I may not lead
Walk beside me
And just be my friend.

(Albert Camus)

So...this morning and this evening I'll be seeing two women. I thought our friendships were irreparable, dead, and yet these two women are dearer to me than they were in the first blush of friendship--they are women that I celebrate and that celebrate me. I'm having dinner with Kelly (yes, there are a lot of Kellys) and I'm seeing Sally before work (yes, there are a lot of Sallys, too.)

Writer's note: Sally is a specific alias (all the Sallys have the same root name), Kelly is an alias that applies to most friends with the letter K at the beginning. Assume that most names in my blog are aliases.

Kelly is a woman I met when I was exploring being Catholic. I was a true blue Catholic, confession and Eucharist for about one year. I attended daily mass for about three years, while I was in Virginia, started the RCIA (adult class to become a Catholic) class there, and returned to Pittsburgh, where my Presbyterian church had a new minister. For the year I was in grad school, I floundered. I basically got to church at the tail end of the sermon every week. I was thankfully back with the women at my Tuesday morning Bible Study, women that have sustained me on and off since my sophomore year of college. So I was getting fed on Tuesday but not so much on Sunday. This post is clearly becoming about my spiritual walk, not about my four friends and I, so let's get back on track.

Kelly and I followed similar paths: she was raised Catholic, "became" Protestant during college, through Campus Crusade for Christ. After college, she attempted to raise support so that she could go into ministry with CCC and her Catholic friends and family would not support her. They encouraged her to reexamine her Catholic roots, which she did, and she is now a stronger Christian and Catholic as a result. I had a similar, but opposite path: I was raised Protestant and when I went to Virginia to learn how to be a functioning bipolar as opposed to a non-functioning one, I started attending daily Mass at the local Catholic church. I still went to church at the local Baptist church most Sundays, and attended a fellowship for young adults at a nearby Episcopal church (actually, The Falls Church, which is what named the town in which my parents reside.)

When I returned to Pittsburgh, I met a young man in my evening Bible Study who was Catholic and a student at CMU. At the time, there was Sunday evening mass at CMU and since (see above) I was not getting fed Sunday mornings, I decided to attend Mass again. I did not take communion, as I was still Protestant, but I started thinking--if this is where I'm spiritually fed, I should be able to take communion. So, the short story is that I contacted the Newman Center, worked with a nun to prepare for becoming a Catholic on Easter. Which I did. So I broke ties (not completely) with my Protestant church and moved forward, now, as a Catholic. At the time, my therapist was trying to get me to date someone, anyone. So when another client of hers told her how he had met his future wife through Catholic Alumni Club, she recommended it to me. Which is how I met Kelly.

Catholics have wonderful traditions and one of them is that Mass on the first Friday of a month is particularly sacred. So CAC had a tradition of picking a parish, meeting there, and having dinner afterwards. On that fateful Friday, I decided to try this tradition out and hopefully also meet some folks. Kelly and her friends also decided to check out CAC. After Mass, we all went out to an Italian restaurant and Kelly and I sat next to each other and just clicked. She and her friends decided that they would meet me at the CAC dance in a few weeks. Kelly and I started emailing. All of us were disappointed by the dance and became sort of disenchanted with CAC. I went to a few picnics but didn't meet anyone male or female that seemed interested in widening their circle of friends to include me. Kelly and I stayed in touch and I went out to visit her for a weekend. (She lives in Ohio.)

Can you see that I still am not really writing what the title purports, not really?

Anyways, our friendship was pretty strongly based on the fact that we were two Catholic girls. So when I started attending the OD Sunday evenings in addition to Sunday Mass (where, guess what? I wasn't getting fed) and eventually just went back to my Protestant church and did Sunday morning and Sunday evening and eventually just Sunday evening, Kelly was not thrilled. Rather, she felt that I was going back on the entire basis of our friendship. So last year, we met for dinner for my birthday and I wrote about the anticipation here.

We stayed in contact, but it wasn't the same.

Okay, it is almost 8:30 and I still haven't gotten to why I'm writing "the tale of five friends."

Fast forward: Kelly and I are now stronger friends and accepting of each other's denominational differences. We're having dinner at IKEA tonight.

Sally and I went through years of not talking, mostly because of geography (she moved ten blocks away) and children (she now has two.) We have overcome both of those hurdles.

Alleluia, Amen!

But I have two friendships that are frozen. I don't feel like talking to them and it seems it's mutual since we've subsisted to email or text messaging. Yesterday at women's Bible study, Beth Moore talked to us about Joseph and Jacob/Israel and the boyz and reconciling with folks.

After all this writing, I see that I may just need to give up trying to fix my life and these friendships and wait for organic opportunities. (Organic is Babelbabe's word for just let life happen.)

'Cause here's the thing: sometimes you know why you don't seem to have a common ground for conversation and sometimes you do. And sometimes time is all you need. And sometimes you need an intervention. But it ain't gonna happen overnight. And as my hero Jim Collins says about business: inside that black box is another black box. There are no easy formulas.

So that's the tale of five friends. It's 8:30. I'm getting breakfast and getting ready for work.

I was thirty five and my life had just begun.

(Tom Cruise in Jerry Maguire.)

A walk down mem'ry lane...

It looks like a book--I was about two or so, in Recife, Brazil.

The view from our porch, my tenth birthday, Tegucigalpa, Honduras. You can't see the new watch from Granny in this picture...

One of the proudest days of my life--I taught myself (again for the third time?) to ride a bike. It was a one day field trip that involved biking in the countryside in Austria. The summer I was 19.

Blowing the candles out on my 21st birthday party, Rye, NY. This was the only college birthday I spent with my siblings and parents (as they were in Warsaw, Poland for my 18th, 19th, and 20th birthdays--I only saw them at Christmas and in the summers.)

I am very excited to embark upon this next year. I hope yins tag along.

The story about the time stamp--I was born around 4 in the afternoon on a Sunday. The Redskins beat the Buffalo Bills while I was coming into this world at Columbia Women's Hospital, Washington, D.C. There was much rejoicing...

Happy Birthday to me! (updated, with more links!)

My mama loves me! I was in that "I had a bad dream I don't want to get up" place, forgetting completely what today is (today is the one day I'm not having lunch with anyone) and the phone rings. My mama loves me so much that even though she hates people using the phone when they're driving, she did, so that she could wish me a happy day. (Smile.)

I also got e-cards from BJ and Lauren. Lauren's had a hippo and two frogs singing, which is appropriate, since in our family a full birthday sing is in three languages (at least): English, Portuguese and Polish.

Sto Lat, Sto Lat... (It means 100 years in Polish and is sung at any happy occasion--like when they brought Lech Walesa in as president.)

8:11 am--my father just emailed me (so typical!) a link to the wikipedia entry for today. Apparently November 28, 1959 is a pretty big day for the town in Argentina named Veintiocho de Noviembre.

2:16 pm--The entire SL clan has now wished me a happy day. Also, instead of Thursday, Sally and I went to lunch TODAY at Mad Mex. At work, I've gotten all kinds of cards. And a mystery: I Inter-Library-Loaned a book that is a Junior League Cookbook from Atlanta? I have no recollection of requesting this book...

Also, Happy Birthday to Jon Stewart, Nancy Reagan, and Gary Hart, among others.

Enjoy the pics.

Bah humbug!

There will be no posts concerning the birth of Jesus until AFTER my own birthday, thank you very much.

That is all.

The day that...

I had such plans for today. My list was a mile long. I got a lot done, and most of it before noon, even! But then I got to Chili's and my favorite waitress's section was full. I did get to say hi, though. I went to Oakland on a secret mission and foiled, the place was CLOSED! I mean, I realize it's huntin' season, but...

Then I went over to Bellefield and chatted with my favorite church secretary, Jenny. She and I go WAY back. We caught up, but I overshot the time on my parking ticket for the garage and ended up paying $5.00 instead of $4.00 because I went three minutes over!!

I went to the new Borders, WOO HOO, looking for a Page-a-day calendar, but instead found lovely magazines. I went to Goodwill, and found some inspiration. I decided that $1.49 was too much for a quart of skim milk and left Walgreens emptyhanded, but ran into a neighbor who goes to Bellefield and a co-worker from Fox Books whose name I forgot. Of course he remembered mine, and introduced me to his daughter, who looked to be five!

So I drove to the new Trader Joes--you walk in and it smells delicious!! and paid $1.49 for a half gallon of skim milk. I didn't buy anything else because it was sensory overload. I came home and there was a message that I need to return, but I need to shore my courage back up. What better way than with leftovers from lunch and Frasier? Catch ya later. Oh--it is exactly six and I can hear the bells faintly from the seminary bell tower.

bing. bing. bing. bing. bing. bing.

oh help!

DaysGoBy did this (yes, it's a Talking Heads reference) and I just had to. I have been up since 6:44 (when you wake up from a dream that your car was towed, you tend to not want to snuggle back in...) Today is one of those days with a to do list a mile long...yikes!

Get Your Cyborg Name

...it's always ourselves we find in the sea

(e.e. cummings, "maggie and milly and molly and may")


My dad called this a three bit dollar. I've as of yet not found a whole dollar on the beach, though my aunt has.



"She's his lobster..." (my sister will maybe be the only person that understands this inside joke)

The ocean at sunrise, near Pawley's Island, South Carolina.

I'm still learning how to use different settings on this camera, but small you can't see how out of focus it is (I hope.) Waves.

Another sunrise picture.

We went kayaking. I did not take my camera along. I ended up in the reeds, a lot!

The Marsh. I asked two guys at church last night if they'd seen Dawson's Creek, ever, and they both said, never! (Not sure I believe them...) Anyways, if you've seen that show, that's what my aunt's marsh looks like. I like the houses in the distance--I do not like being in the middle of nowhere. But for my mother, nature lover, it took awhile to get over the houses in the distance.

We love sea turtles in the SL household. Someday I'll tell you the story about why.

Happy Online Shopping Monday! (click on the link--you won't be disappointed!)

Pictures, more and more pictures... (updated)

At last, the birthday pictures. I didn't take any at the party, but these were taken the day after.

The vase from Kristen. Isn't it gorgeous? The flowers are from another guest.

More flowers.

A close-up on the gerbera daisies, one of my favorite flowers.

The cards!

Ribbons, I love ribbons!

The cake. My piece fell off my plate and onto my beautiful green nylons...giggle! And yes, there was no icing for a "Happy Birthday Sarah Louise" so my ingenious guests used magnetic letters (courtesy Babs and her boys) to spell out my name on the cake.

So, this is so that tomorrow I can give you the beach pix. NaBloPoMo is almost over...I missed one day, but hey, it's been fun!

Think about it. If you are single, after graduation there isn't one occasion where people celebrate you ...

... Hallmark doesn't make a "congratulations, you didn't marry the wrong guy" card. And where's the flatware for going on vacation alone? (Sarah Jessica Parker, as Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City)

My mother announced at lunch yesterday (the second lunch we were having in my birthday's honor) that she doesn't know another person that milks their birthday more than I do. Well, hey. I believe in having fun, what's wrong with that? I haven't had a wedding, or a shower. I haven't had a baby, or a shower. It's just me. I haven't had a Valentine from someone besides a girlfriend or my dad for many years. I'm not complaining--just stating the facts. So if folks are going to humor me with celebration when I turn the years, I'll let them!

So this week: Tuesday is the day. Wednesday I have dinner with Kelly at IKEA (she lives in Steubenville, Ohio, so Robinson is half way for both of us.) Thursday, Sally and I will take my Mad Mex coupon (free entree for the birthday person!) for lunch. Friday, the Tech Serv dept at work will join me for lunch at Chili's.

This will be the first birthday without Susan. Our birthdays are five days apart, so she'd call me on my day and I'd call her on hers.

Amy Grant turned 46 yesterday--Happy Birthday!

What day is it?? (and other vacation thoughts)

Even my aunt can't keep straight that yesterday was Friday, not Thursday. I walked the beach twice today--once at sunrise with my dad, and a second time around 11 a.m. with my sister. I picked up some shells--mostly shards.

I'm at Litchfield Lattes, enjoying a small decaf. (And Internet access.)

We had lunch at a sweet place on the marsh. Yesterday I had crab cakes and today, fried grouper.

Yesterday after lunch Sis and I went to a used bookstore appropriately called (when you go with your sister) "My Sister's Bookstore."

Today after lunch, the rest of the SL clan started the long drive back to Northern Virginia. I leave tomorrow, early. One of the great things about church in the evening is that I won't miss it tomorrow!! I'll be back in da Burgh noonish.

I got birthday presents: two turtlenecks from Eddie Bauer, yay!, a calendar featuring verses from the Psalms, and hair stuff from my sister. Ralph and Sylvia, my aunt's neighbors from Eastern PA, who are down for a few days, gave me a crocheted and starched Christmas ornament (you'd be surprised how many ornaments I've gotten for my birthday over the years), and my aunt gave me a check which covered the books I bought at "My Sister's Bookstore": Blue Like Jazz, Pushing 30, and a few others.

I read Goodbye Nobody on Wednesday: I bought it at one of TWO Border's Books at that airport and by the time we had hit ground in Myrtle Beach all I had left was to finish the interview with Jennifer Weiner in the back of the book. I highly recommend Weiner's latest, which is a murder-mystery. The cover says "Hilarious, begs to be read in one sitting" and while I agree with the begs to be read...part, I wouldn't call the book hilarious. It is very good, though, and I think there will be a sequel. Unlike most of Weiner's books, which are set in or near Philadephia, this novel takes place in suburban Connecticut, one of those New York bedroom towns where all the women have given up their careers to raise their perfect 2.5 children.

This morning I finished I feel bad about my neck and other thoughts on being a woman by Nora Ephron (the lady who wrote When Harry Met Sally and co-wrote You've Got Mail.) It was a little bizarre reading the chapter about parenting while my aunt and parents were preparing breakfast. There were a ton of read aloud moments, but it was the wrong audience...One chapter is about her love affair with a particular apartment. Now she lives elsewhere, and she likes it, but it is where she lives--she does not have nightmares about losing it (as she did about the previous domicile.) This is a book I'll probably buy in paperback. The back cover is an author photo showing Nora pulling a turtleck up her neck (the title, the title!).

This morning my dad and I were talking about a friend of his who went to Collegiate and I thought, who do I know that went there? It took awhile to realize that it was one of the school choices for Grove, the four year old in The Nanny Diaries.

I'm a little subdued--I've been taking naps every day and having bad dreams--this too shall pass!! It's bizarre to label it as depression as I am fairly happy right now, but depression is not necessarily just the emotion of sadness but also the symptoms. Luckily, I am able to regulate my meds a little and so this morning I increased my Zoloft by 50 mg.

Tonight dinner is leftovers: last night we had Chinese carryout with candles on the pumpkin pie. Tonight I think we'll only be four at dinner--my aunt, myself, and my two not by blood cousins (they are my cousin's cousins on their dad's side) who have been working on their grandmother's beach house, tearing out baseboard heating, leaky skylights, and myriad of other items...their aunt Lilly died a few months ago.

Well, I think I'll go see if yins have posted anything of note...tomorrow I'll be back in the garret!