PDA, the online kind

It used to be that we’d gag if we saw a couple (especially a teenage couple) making out by a building or on the bus or at the movies. That was how it was when I was a teen – PDA came in a physical form.

But now, we have the electronic versions – the Facebooks, the MySpaces, the Twitters. They have become the new avenue for PDA – and they’re EVERYWHERE.

An “I love you” here and there on your significant other’s Facebook wall is acceptable and appropriate. Excited about a date? That’s cool. In fact, if you want to joke around every now and then and put something cutsey, that’s fine. But mushy and totally unnecessary? Gag me with a spoon and send it through the inbox.

Examples of real life Facebook PDA:

Husband, writing on his wife’s Facebook wall
“I just spent my day with the love of my life, my wife, my one and only, my true love.”
Then why do you feel the need to tell her?

Boyfriend to girlfriend:
“I love that when we’re mushy on Facebook, everyone can see.”
I hate you.

Also unacceptable: Every. Stinking. Status. Update. About. Your. Boyfriend/Girlfriend. We UNDERSTAND that you’re infatuated/in love/twitterpated/whatever. Believe it or not, we’re smarter than we look, and we don’t need an hourly update on how “in looooovvveee” you are.

Here’s something else that’s creepy: exes stalking. I have seen this happen with a friend of mine, who is dating a new boy, and her ex writes at least every other day on her wall. Stuff like, “I hope you have a wonderful day” and “You deserve the best, Sarah*.” She’s nicer than me. I would have blocked his derriere.

For now, I’m going to update my own Facebook status. What will it read?

Hmm…frankly, I’m not sure either.

The better part of my weekend

I meant to post this, oh...Tuesday...but I've been swamped with work and school (and still am, but I'm procrastinating studying), so I thought I'd tell about the good part of this past weekend.

My Aunt J and I went to a nearby Women of Faith Conference. It. Was. FABULOUS. We had such a great time listening to the speakers, spending time with each other, AND meeting Nicole C. Mullen.


She's my adopted cousin now, just fyi.





I love Nicole C. Mullen because she spends so much time mentoring kids. You hear so much about how bad kids now, and it was so nice to see this group of kids praising Jesus and to see someone who gives all the glory to God mentoring them.



Me and my sweet aunt, who took me to the conference


My mom's favorite, Sandi Patty




Words are failing me. Probably has something to do with all the words I'm writing for press releases and the mountains of words I'm studying, but I'm glad I have pictures from this weekend as well.

Mr. Bun Buns

(NOTE: If you are not having a good day, DO NOT READ this. It's not going to make it any better.)

Don’t laugh, but I’m very sad that this little bunny is no more.

My aunt and I were driving back from a Women of Faith conference when we saw this poor, sweet animal standing in the middle of a two-lane highway. He looked confused, lost, wounded. My aunt was terribly upset, and I said, “Turn around! Turn around! We’ll go get him!”

She looked in her rearview mirror just to see him fall down. She turned around.

I would like to say that I dodged traffic to save him, but most of the drivers waited patiently for me to scoop Mr. George Bunikinz Bun Buns III (just wait) in my arms and head back to the Volvo. I think they were glad that I was saving him and not them. I had hoped someone would have picked him up before we did, too.

At first, he was terrified in my arms, but after a few minutes, he began jumping madly. I was so excited because he looked well and didn’t seem to have any broken bones. I held him closely and noticed blood on my pants and the car seat.

I called my husband within seconds from my house. “Come outside, but make sure Superdog is inside,” I said. As we pulled up, I held the rabbit up for him to see. His face showed elation at first at seeing such a sweet animal – and then shock as he wondered if this would become a new pet.

I gently placed Mr. Bun Buns (my name for him – Susie from Calvin and Hobbes had a stuffed toy rabbit she called Mr. Bun Buns) on the ground, and he slowly hopped around to the grass. And stopped. Several of our neighbors came by (which is when he acquired the name “George”), and those who live next door offered their large pen and a tarp to keep him safe.

Mr. Bun Buns had a deep, deep cut on his front paw. To the bone. He also had been hit in the mouth and had a cut on his ear. I’m not sure what internal injuries he had.

I felt confident Sunday morning that Mr. Bun Buns (who had by this time received the name Bunikinz) was going to live. I went to church happy, thinking that we would be able to release him to the wild shortly.

I’m not sure what happened between Sunday morning and Sunday afternoon, but in that time, Mr. Bun Buns went from good to bad.

We opened the gate door so he could see that he was not a prisoner and placed him on a damp towel to stay cool. He scooted off the towel and lay on his side. He would not eat. We fed him pet milk from a dropper, but over the next couple of hours, he would go from bad to worse.

At about 9 p.m., the neighbors and we decided that he needed to be put down to end his suffering. I cried. I hated the thought of someone taking him off where he would be scared and placed on a cold table and injected. I knew it was the right thing to do, though, so he wouldn’t starve himself to death, so I agreed.

I’ll be honest; I didn’t sleep much last night. I prayed God would take Mr. Bun Buns during the night so we wouldn’t have to have him put down.

And, as much as it hurt, God took Mr. George Bunikinz Bun Buns III (Husband added the “III” this morning). I teared up, but I was so happy. Mr. Bun Buns died on grass, in a safe place, where no predator could get him. We took care of him to the best of our ability, and at least he died somewhere outside, in peace.

Rest in peace, Mr. Bun Buns.

Hello, Friday. I've missed you.

I woke up today and thought it was Saturday. Don't you know I was sad when I had to get up.

I watched "Food, Inc." yesterday and now don't want to eat meat. I even tried to eat seafood yesterday and nearly couldn't. Thanks, evil food corporations that abuse our animals. It's not that I don't like meat -- I LOVE meat. But I don't want harmone-injected chickens or abused cows that stand in their own feces.

That's another matter for another day, though.

I did not wake up and run this morning, due to staying up too late last night. I don't think I would have done NEARLY as well today as yesterday, though, so it's probably a good thing I slept those extra 30 minutes.

The smell of burnt coffee in our office makes me gag.

I'm having to go through this blog as I write it and take out the overly-sarcastic comments. It's like the notes from class that I e-mailed to a friend yesterday. I had to put a note in there saying, "Sorry I put sarcastic comments all through my notes. I get bored in class."

Examples (directly from notes regarding psychoanalysis):

Characters can achieve great things through sublimation (I think. Frankly, it’s 9:09 and I’m on autopilot.)

Regression – return to an earlier stage of development in life, like when someone was a child, which may provide a temporary release from the anxieties of adult life (Is this what happens when I want to go to the zoo???!!)

Anti-hero – one type we’ve seen in some films is a hero who has a cynical or wounded quality about him. Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca. Sawyer. Just sayin’.

I don’t know what all he’s saying at this point.

Happy Friday! It's finally here!

Just do it

Huh.

I read a blog today about what you want from life. Do you want to stay single or be married? Do you want zero kids, one kid, or more kids? To travel or not to travel? To work or not to work? What do you want?

I’ve always known what I want most of all in life: Christ. I want to be His follower, and everything else comes secondary. But the title of the blog is what hit me the most: “Uncluttered.”

Uncluttered. To not have leaves, shoes, and too many clothes in my closet.

Uncluttered. To not look at one of the dog’s many toys and think, “Boy, I need to wash the dust off of that.”

Uncluttered. To be able to leave the doors of my bedrooms open because, for once, they are clean.

I seriously don’t know what that’s like.

I had a spring cleaning list over Easter – some of the items actually were accomplished. I cleaned my car inside and out (minus the trunk). Hubby and I (okay, more of Hubby and my dad) landscaped the yard. I washed the refrigerator inside and out. I organized my bathroom closet. But the three big ones: the kitchen pantry, the spare room (aka the “junk room”), and our bedroom closet were neglected.

They’re starting to drive me crazy.

So what to do? I’m going to start small and clean our bedroom. Tonight. (If my husband’s reading this, he’s passed out by this point.) And I’m not going to get discouraged if I don’t finish it tonight, either. But, dang it, I’m going to get some garbage bags and clean up the junk in that room and anything that does not fit or is no longer used is going to Goodwill.

This is my goal:

The remaining half of this week – Our bedroom

Next week (April 25-May 1) – Our closet

May 2-8 – Spare room

May 9-15 – Pantry

Let an end to the spring cleaning finally be in sight!!!

Well, this is certainly random

No one’s in the office yet, and if we’re best buds on Facebook (cause we all know that being friends on Facebook automatically makes you best buds with 1234895y89145 people) you know I’m annoyingly hyper today.

Hmmm…I just realized there’s a random “y” in that number. I’m going to leave it.

Going to the big Super Duper U today – hopefully next Tuesday will be the last time I have to go this semester. Hopefully my really awesomely nice professor will let me take my final next week instead of having to go back the following week. Hopefully I’ll get an A in his class and that crazy woman’s class so I don’t hear “Look at me, I made straight As” from my husband for a whole other semester. Yes, we’re super competitive. Not that I want him to do bad – I like him having straight As, but I like having straight As, too.

I snapped at a student for text messaging in class. Not just one or two texts that might have said, “Getting out of class early” or “Meet you at four” or “Can’t talk now; in class.” No, a whole stinking conversation. Seriously? Are you really that rude?

Yeppers.

Finally got back to running yesterday. Didn’t run O.N.C.E. last week. Oh, and did I mention I’ve got a 10k coming up May 1? Yeeaaaahhh…Did fairly well, though – 2 miles in 20:37. Good time, but I’ve got to get the length up (though, to my defense, we were meeting someone for dinner, and I didn’t have much time to run).

I keep looking at my calendar for conversation topics. I think that’s a sign I should stop.

(But, really quickly, found out I'm going to pick up my master's thesis tomorrow, yea! FYI, I graduated in 2008. Better late than never, though, right?)

(Also, btw, Dustin is doing fine. He came through surgery great and is now just working with physical therapy and his best-ever nurse, Rindy. =) )

The cops called

Rindy had a bad day yesterday that started with a phone call from who she thought was her husband.

“Hellllooooo.”

“Mrs. S?”

Not her husband, but calling from her husband’s phone.

“Yes? Who is this?”

“This is Officer So-and-so with the Police Department. Your husband’s been in a motorcycle accident.”

“You’ve GOT to be kidding me.”

And that’s how the afternoon went from good to very, very bad.

Thankfully, though, the wreck was not as bad as it could have been. An older lady hit his motorcycle from behind with her SUV, and he went flying through the air. His boss waited for her at the ER and stayed until she learned he was okay.

He’s heading into surgery in about an hour. While he’s walking and generally okay, he did break two finger bones and his wrist on his left hand. His right thumb is bandaged up, too, because he tried to break as soon as he realized something was wrong and probably bruised and strained it as well.

The orthopedic surgeon is going to put screws in his fingers and a plate in his wrist. It sounds bad – but it’s not as bad as it could have been. Praise Jesus!!

And, thankfully, the doctors said he should feel much better after the surgery. And he has a good sense of humor about the accident. My hubby told him that he got beat up by a 78-year-old woman, and he looked up and said, “No. She was 68. And, yes, she broke my arm and banged me up a lot.”

So lucky. So blessed.

We all were absolutely terrified when we heard he was in a motorcycle accident, because, as y’all all know, those usually don’t end well. For Dustin to have just a messed up arm is a major blessing. Yes, he’ll be sore, and yes, he has to endure surgery and recovery, but he’s alive and conscious and can be healed.

Anyway, pray for both of them as he goes into surgery and recovers. He was in a lot of pain yesterday, and we’re hoping that he feels better once they go in and fix him up.

So that was yesterday. How’s your today?

If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all...

I gave a presentation yesterday at the Liberal Arts Symposium. Sounds cooler than it was. Trust me.

First issue of the day: I had to dress uber-nice. I'm a T-shirt and shorts girl. Put some heels and a dress jacket and a silk shirt on, and I'm needing an extra shot of espresso that morning.

Issue No. 2: I'm presenting in front of my colleagues. My smart colleagues. The dean of my college. The honors professor. Some of my students. Well, dang...

Issue No. 3: I finished up my presentation about 12 hours before I was going to present it.

Faaabbbuuullllooouuussss.

Naturally, I was nervous, then, when it came to be my turn. My leg was bouncing up and down as I sat and waited for the associate dean to announce my name. I got up and gave the presentation, which turned out fairly well. I didn't stumble once, though I did have to rely on my papers too much, but I spoke clearly and presented my ideas well. Score one for me!!

Then Dude speaks up.

I refer to him as "Dude" because any other characteristic would just not be nice, and, as you see from the title of this blog, I need to be nice. Unlike him.

I can't really remember the first question he asked me. He did not make his question clear, so I couldn't figure out exactly what he was asking. Then he made some reference to the election between Nixon and JFK (which I mentioned VERY BRIEFLY in my presentation) and said something to me about how I needed to know my history if I was going to teach it.

I turned red. I was stunned at his outright rudeness.

(Honestly, it shouldn't have surprised me. He told me colleague that he -- my coworker -- was reinforcing stereotypes and encouraging prejudices. Yep.)

Before I had time to react, he asked, "And how is this new? Why are you researching this? It's not new."

I had several smart-aleck remarks in my mind about his ignorance, his inconsideration, and his obvious lack of awareness during my presentation. But I paused and then responded.

"Actually, Obama was the first president to use the Internet in such a way to build relationships with the voters," I said. "No other presidential candidate has ever text messaged or e-mailed voters to encourage them to attend rallies, to raise money, or to go to the polls. Actually, this is very new."

What I really wanted to say was:

"You're an idiot who obviously did not pay attention to my presentation about NEW MEDIA. How in God's green earth did you think that the Internet is NOT new? Are you just asking stupid questions to tick me off? Because it WORKED."

But I didn't. And why?

Because, as Thumper so eloquently said, if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.

But I did think it.

My first (almost) tri

"I know now why God didn't let me bike. He knew I would have died."

Getting our swim times. It was a staggered swim; with one of the slower swim times, I was near the end. FYI, I'm in the blue swim top and green shorts. Fashionable, I know.



Getting ready to start.


Trying to at least begin with good form.


Running the roads.


The end is in sight.


VICTORY!


The first church triathalon was this past Saturday. I sort of participated in it. I say "sort of" because I lacked on the biking part.

I won't lie. I cried about it.

My sweet little Huffy mountain bike is about two years old, and, due to me, has been the victim of a lack of care. Therefore, that seven-speed bike is now a three-speed -- specifically speeds 5,6, and 7. Not so good for a road race with hills.

About 50 options were available, I thought, and not a single one panned out. You wouldn't BELIEVE how close I was to getting a bike on several occassions. But nothing worked.

So I swam my 400m in 12 minutes flat -- beating my projected time by 3 minutes AND passing up two people. My swim teacher from childhood was actually at the event supporting her husband, who was participating. I wish I could have swam a little better, haha!

I was very proud of my 15-min estimation when I went into this tri thing. And then, when I was giving my estimated time to the coordinator, Casey, I listened to the two people in front of me.

Guy 1, 50ish years old -- "Well, Casey, I'm going to be going a little slow on this one. You better put me down for eight minutes."

Guy 2, early 20s -- "Put me down for 6. I timed myself at 7 this morning, but I think I can knock it down to six."

Me, 26, next in line -- "Um, yeah..." (whispers) "Fifteen minutes."

After the swim, I cheered everyone on as they started the bike portion. I felt a little better when Casey called out to everyone, "Y'all have a fun time on this race, and when you get to those hills...just remember God made the earth."

No doubt I would have cried on the hills. And died.

I'm seriously going to have issues come training this summer with this Louisiana heat. I ran the 5k, the last leg of the race, around 9:30 a.m. (after my sweet friend Christy brought me a coffee tumbler with my initial and a balloon that said, "You're a star!" How sweet!) As I ran up those hills on the service road, all I could think of was, "Why in the WORLD is it this hot before noon? WHY did I agree to do this? WHY am I running up this hill and not walking it?"

I started my run when the first of the bikers (you know, the serious triathletes) reached the starting point. One dude passed me up and said, "Were you that biker that I kept trying to pass?" Yeah, sure.

As I got in the last mile of the 5k, I started to walk. I mean, dang, it was hot, hilly, and long. I was ready for a break. And some other guy came by and patted me on the back. "Keep on running," he said. "You can do this; we have less than a mile left!" He ran with me for a bit and then sprinted ahead. That's when I returned to walking.

In all, though, I finished my run in 34 minutes -- a personal record. My goal is to run a 5k in 30 minutes, so I'm on my way to that goal. My last 5k, the trail run, was a little over 35 mins, so this was awesome time.

I also finished out my own "tri" by going 13.13 miles on the exercise bike at the house. It felt so nice inside.

Oh, and about the bikes? So get this: Hubby went to the bike shop here in town on Saturday to check to see how much it would cost to get our bikes fixed up. He's taking them in tomorrow. And my dad found an old Schwin bike that he took in just a couple of hours ago to have fixed. None of this happened before the tri. All I can figure is that I was simply not meant to bike the tri.

But that's okay. I enjoyed my time with Stacy and Clinton while pedaling on the exercise bike. Ha!

Grace and mercy

All the anticipation, anxiety, and concern melted away yesterday as I met with my academic committee for my plan of study.

They approved everything. EVERYTHING.

I will attend class at Super Duper University one day a week for five weeks of the summer. The rest is online.

I will take a one-week minisession in August and then again in January.

I will attend class this fall from 6:30-9:15 one night a week for 15 weeks.

And then…I’m done.

They approved my online classes. I’m getting an IT minor, and all of my classes (minus one, which is a hybrid of online and class which my professor said he’d work with me on) are online.

My trips to Super Duper are numbered. I see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Oh, and even better? In-state tuition is in effect in the summer. That LITERALLY cuts $3,000. AND any online class I take (during the fall and spring, I'm taking three) also counts for in-state tuition. Serious blessing. SERIOUS.

I so didn’t deserve to get everything I wanted. So many times this past week alone, I’ve had to say, “God, I am SO SORRY for x, y, and z.” Over and over and over again. I even told Hubby on Easter that I felt guilty for not focusing more on the reason of Easter. I’ve felt like a failure.

But God is generous, gracious, and merciful. He gave me the desires of my heart and so much more.

Not only did my amazing academic committee approve my plan of study, but I made an A on that ridiculous research paper (She didn’t read the papers. Not kidding. She announced in class, “Because you all worked so hard, you all get As.” Whatever. I am NOT complaining.). AND, as an added bonus, I got out of my night class at 8 p.m. instead of 9:15 p.m.

And, of course, they played my favorite songs on the radio. Yeah. I’m like that.

I am so undeserving, but God is so loving.

Side note: I’m SUPPOSED to participate in my church’s sprint triathlon this weekend. I’m in shape for it, minus the bike riding. My old bike is a mountain bike, for one. We’re biking on the road. Also, it’s perpetually stuck in 5th gear. And I’m going to be riding some hills. Question to y’all: Should I just ask to participate in the swimming and running or try to bike the 12 miles? I’d feel like such a loser by not biking, but I don’t want to look like a dork on an old mountain bike that only goes into one gear and biking in last place.

My First Trail Run

(If you look closely, you can see me and running buddy Christina to the right. I'm wearing a blue jacket, and she is to the left of me wearing a black shirt.)


This was the Shamrock 5K in the parish park, and poor Rindums didn't get to run due to work. She did get to come to Starbucks with us (Hello, delicious cherry mocha). I think she was glad afterwards that work came first. After I told her about El Chupenerabe (don't ask), the super huge wall of a hill after the one mile mark. After I told her about the five mud puddles (I had to undress on the mat in front of the door inside). After I told her about jumping two creeks.

It. Was. AWESOME.




(I look like I'm not running fast, but I was, promise!! LOL.)

I found out I LOVE trail runs. I always loved to hike through the woods as a kid, and this was just a faster version of that. I finished at 35:40, which was over what I wanted to finish at (35 mins), but I know I pushed myself as hard as I could. And that made it totally worth it.

Oh, and for funsies? Last night I swam 400m, biked 12 miles, and ran a mile. You'd THINK I wouldn't have had trouble sleeping. You would be wrong.

Dang stinking Coke Zero at 3 p.m.....

Happy Easter to all!!!!