The Fridge Makes Me Sneeze

So I got home earlier this week after being gone for over a month. My hubby has learned that it doesn’t matter what he does to the house while I’m gone, as long as it is clean when I come home, all is well.

And he does a pretty decent job. He gets better each time. At first his untidiness used to annoy me, but now I find it rather endearing because it is truly one of his guy moments. Being married to a man who tells you which shoes to wear with your outfit and which earrings will best bring out your eyes, it’s nice to discover him having guy moments. So instead of getting angry about the spider web in the corner with a spider and eggs in it, I relish it and chuckle a little bit.

But, I believe the best guy moment occurred yesterday. After pulling out some packaged cheese out of the fridge and finding it covered in icky goo, I took to the task of cleaning it out. To my utter shock (not really) I discovered that all the food I had left 5 weeks ago was STILL in there! I mean, I don’t think it had even moved.

So when Tim got home last night, I mentioned this fact to him, and he said, completely straight faced as if this would be a normal occurrence to everyone in the universe:

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t really go near the fridge much while you were gone because every time I opened it up, my allergies went crazy.”

Folks, you know the mold has to be bad when the cold of the fridge can’t even keep it at bay.

Wow, love. Just keep telling me how to look good, and I’ll deal with the allergy causing fridge.

Happy Birthday

Today is Chris’ birthday. He would’ve been 38 – and he would’ve been bemoaning the fact that he was almost 40…he started that when he turned 31. And we would’ve laughed about getting old, getting wrinkles and gray hair – and then laughed about it all. So, instead I’ll laugh to myself and think about all the fun times.

Concert set

So my next Nashville performance is set!

I will be performing as a part of St. Matthew’s Recital Series. Joel Bolen will accompany.

Sunday, September 27
4 pm
St. Matthew’s Catholic Church
535 Sneed Road West
Franklin, TN 37069
www.churchofstmatthew.org

This concert is free, however, I will be taking donations for my upcoming mission trip to Nazareth. 10% of donations will go back to St. Matthew’s music program so 2 amazing things will be supported!

As per usual, this will be the most fun you’ve had at a classical concert. Ask anyone who’s been. And you don’t even have to miss the Titan’s because they play the early game!

See you there!

Nazareth or bust

So, you may have noticed that yesterday I wrote a little entry about this upcoming Nazareth trip. Well, I got an email from the admin at church today saying that she had just checked the church mail and there was a check for $650 for me! I was like, “What!? This doesn’t happen to me! I’m always the one on top of everything, who always has everything done early, who’s never had trouble raising money for ANYTHING! And now, I don’t have jack squat and someone mails a check. This kind of stuff happens to other people.” Well, I guess not. It happened to me. Amazing how God works. My mom always told me, “God owns all the money in the world and He’ll figure out a way to get it to you when you need it.” And boy did He. I don’t know who it was, but I know it wasn’t in response to my post yesterday since you can’t very well mail a letter and have it arrive on the same day. So, not sure who you are, but if you are reading this, thank you very very much.

Now only around $1300 to go! Merely pocket change.

P.S. I am planning a concert for September 27th that will also double as a fundraiser. Details forthcoming.

Nazareth here I come…maybe?

I’ve neglected to blog about this. Again, I am remiss.

Many of you may already know that I have an opportunity to go to Nazareth, Israel with my church.

When announced, this trip immediately struck a cord deep within me. I have always had an unexplainable love and passion for the Jewish people. I have read extensively about their history up to modern day. The story behind the trip, how it came about and what will be accomplished, is largely what compels me to go on this particular trip.

Not quite a year ago our pastor, Jamie, was in Israel doing research on Jesus’ life. When he visited Nazareth he “happened” to meet two Christian, Israeli businesswomen who own a hotel in Nazareth and who also run an organization called The Zahra Foundation, which works with a local orphanage and helps with other needs in the community. They were needing some serious help – and in walked Jamie.

Our church has decided to working side by side with these ladies to help them. This trip is going to focus on helping in the orphanage and building a long-lasting relationship with the community. We plan to invest in Nazareth for a long time, and hopefully this will only the first of many trips I make.

So why the “maybe”? Well, this trip naturally costs money (a shade under $2300) and that’s something that Tim and I just can’t swing on our own. The first deadline for money was Friday, but they’ve extended it for me until Tuesday. The goal? $490. I’m really not worried about it. If this is a trip that I’m to take part in, then the money will appear, but I figured I’d just let all my readers know in case any of you would like to contribute! Contact me if you’d like to.

Watch out for the mugger!

I love my husband (more on that later).

So apparently there is a mugger on the loose in the area where I’m staying – Inwood (remember, something always happens in Inwood). For now he’s confined himself to the subway, but you never can guess what these darn muggers will do – they’re so evasive and all. And the press, not wanting to be accused of being racist, won’t tell us what he looks like. All we know is that he wears a Red Sox baseball cap. Well, gee, thanks. That narrows it down.

So, I’ve just been a little extra careful on the subway. Make sure I sit in a care with a ton of other people, don’t be alone, be aware of my surroundings, yada yada yada. There are a lot of people here. I’m not worried. Not to mention the fact that he’d be sorely disappointed if he mugged me. “What you want my stuff? Fine. Here’s a debit card with not much money in the account. Oh, here’s $20. And, uh, here’s my 2 year old pink cell phone with an ear piece that doesn’t work and a speaker phone that is sketchy at best. You know, you’d actually do me a favor by ridding me of this thing.”

Back to loving my husband. So tonight I was headed home late from a friend’s place only about 15 blocks from where I’m staying. I decided to be careful and was going to take a cab, but fortunately for me a bus showed up so no cab was needed. (This really is pointless information, but alas, you get to hear it anyway). So I get home and recount all this information to Tim.

Me: “Yeah, so there’s a mugger running around the subway in Inwood attacking young women.”
Tim: Chirp chirp chirp
Me: “And, uh, I came home really late.”
Tim: Chirp chirp chirp
Me: “So, I decided to take a cab, but luckily the bus showed up and I took that for free.”
Tim: “Good for you, baby!”
Me: “Um, so there’s a mugger on the loose?”
Tim: “Huh.”

I love how much my husband worries about me when I am in the big city, protecting myself of potential attack. I’m going to chalk up his disinterest to his cold and the medicine he’s on.

Note: I now await his righteously indignant comment defending himself and frivolous claims that I embellished (or changed) our conversation to serve the purposes of my blog.

Too darn hot

OK, people. I’m from Texas. I can handle heat. I mean, 105 degrees is nothing- a mere bit of toastiness.

Well, this Texan has met her match. There is NOTHING like maneuvering New York City in the middle of the muggy Northeast Summer. I think all the thermometers that the weathermen use to gauge the heat are wrong.

For example, yesterday the weather said it was 76 degrees at around 10 am. Now I know that New York is a different world, but are they using a different degree system to measure? Bull$#!% – oh excuse me. The sun made me sneeze. The thermometers must be hanging out 20,000 feet above the city. Between the cars, the buses, the pavement and the sun beating down, the temperature on the ground has to be around 100 degrees.

But you think that’s rough? Try the subway. I’ve heard that the platforms can reach 115 degrees. And that I believe. You know it’s bad when you come out of the subway into 95 degree (according to the weatherman) and you feel like it’s air conditioned? Whew.

And then to top it all off, central air conditioning is a luxury afforded only by a few. The rest of city either lives without or has strategically placed a couple of window units to keep the temperature decent.

I mean, it’s so hot that New York now smells like Europe. A little tip for my New York readers, put on twice as much deodorant, and take some for the road. You are ripe!

Oh Rats!

A New York First.

It’s Sunday morning. 7:30 am. I shouldn’t even be up, but alas I was getting off the subway. As I approached the turnstiles bleary eyed I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked down just in time to see a rat come running out of a hole in the wall. Petrified (people, these things are like dogs up here), I froze and used all the rest of my energy to keep from screaming like a little girl (I may or may not have raised my arms in the air and/or begun jumping up and down hoping that my jumping would keep the varmint away). Fortunately for me, it worked. It ran about a foot in front of me and a guy to the right of me who chose not to use my mode of deterrence caught a leg full of rat. It ran up his leg a little before realizing it was going the wrong way. Falling backwards, rolling back onto its feet it tried again, headed over the guy’s foot before the guy gained his wits and kicked it out of the way.

After the shock wore of of me and all the others around, we all proceeded with our day as if nothing had occurred.

This place is weird.

2 years

Today is 2 years since I lost my brother. I debated whether or not to blog about today. I’m not one to fish for pity, so please understand that I do not write this to make people feel sorry for me. I write it because in this age of the internet, who knows who might come across this blog and who knows how it might possibly help them.

Tim and I went to Austin to spend the weekend with my parents. It was kind of odd. I didn’t quite know what to feel. They same that time heals, and to a certain extent, that is true. The pain isn’t so fresh. It’s more a deep sense of loss and sadness that my dearest friend is no longer here. I honestly did not feel sad most of the day, and I wondered, “Is everything OK with me? Shouldn’t I be a mess?” but I just wasn’t. I figured that was just fine and let myself be – I did not resort to beating myself up about it and feeling guilty. That in itself is a big step for me.

We did end up visiting his grave. It was the first time I’d been there since the funeral. I sat down on the bench at the foot of his grave and just stared at his name. It just didn’t seem real. I just stared at this plaque that stated his name, rank, birth date and date of death. It was like I was staring into some parallel universe. I mean, he’s not there. It’s just a body in a grave. His soul is gone. It just seemed very weird – and it also made me sad. Tim sat next to me quietly. My eyes began to tear up, and he held my hand.

I have yet to cry a river today. I don’t feel I have the need today. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. But not today. And that’s OK. The grieving process is unpredictable and untamed. I’ve learned I just have to go with the flow and not try to control it.

I miss him dreadfully. That sadness will never be completely healed in this life, but oh how I await the glory of what is to come in the next. For the first time since losing him, that thought genuinely brings me solace.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…

Sadly, I have set up this entry with an eloquent title that it most definitely will not live up to! But a valiant attempt shall be made.

I’m in NYC right now doing lessons, networking and auditioning. There hasn’t been too much out of the order to blog about either that or I have become so accustomed to this place that the roaches that came crawling out my teacher’s utinsel drawer were not deemed worthy of a story.

So why the title? Well, right now, I’m feeling pretty up and up on singing. The voice is singing really well and I have a couple of random connections that lead me to working on some music with a great composer and auditioning for an agent. I actually feel excited. I sense something electric, like something is shifting in the cosmos of my life. I can’t wait to see what it is.

But similarly, it is the worst of times. Next Sun, Aug 2 marks the 2 year anniversary of my brother’s death. I’ve been OK thinking about it until I thought about it today. I’ve been trying to keep my whits about me, but emotionally it’s very touch. Little things like seeing a certain book or someone saying one of his favorite quotes set me off. Definitely a level of sadness right now.

But the good in all this is that knowing how I operate, my curtain of protection around me is pulled down because it’s just too hard to hold up when I mourn my brother, and God takes the opportunity to get into those areas I normally keep closed off and work on them, heal them, bring restoration and I am therefore much for receptive of what He’s leading me towards – and I get excited all over again. And for those times when I have that curtain down, I actually enjoy life more. Yes, there is the risk of the pain of the past or the pain of the present to get you at any moment, but you miss out on the beauty and amazing things that are out there for you to behold, to be blessed by, to be healed from. Security always limits freedom. Freedom is risky but you miss out on so much less.

I’ve made progress. I used to have an iron wall. Now it’s just a curtain. Maybe it’ll be gone now. Though I doubt it. It’s all about a journey. Just when you’ve figured you’ve gotten that end goal, you realize it was just a turning point in the journey.

Random post, I know.

So yes, it is the best of times it is the worst of times