Starbucks with Paul and Melly

I got to have coffee with friends, Paul Sheldon and Melissa Pellegrin. All of us went to school in Crowley back in the days when there was only one high school and not a single major chain restaurant in sight. (Sonic excluded.)

We swapped stories and caught each other up on our lives and I am absolutely astonished that we all now have grown up jobs. Melissa in communictaions software, Paul as an attorney and myself as a marketing director.

Because as we sat around the table laughing about SNL and making Monty Python references; Paul telling us how he met the love of his life (his wife Tamara) and Melissa and myself both celebrating and complaining about certain teachers--for just a moment we were all back in school and nothing had changed at all.

It was wonderful.

The Joy of Avon

It's a little girl thing, I know. But I'm so excited.

Shannon of the Six is now selling Avon.

And though she has a website: http://www.youravon.com/ssuarez, she sent me an actual catalog. (Because really, that's the best part. Flipping through the pages. Smelling the fragrances. Trying to figure out what you want to buy.)

And for a mere $30 I got Skin-So-Soft, Moisture Therapy, Bubble Bath, a pair of silver earrings and some makeup. All my favorites.

Best of all, I had fun ordering. And, got to have fun again today when the box was sitting on my table when I got home.

Joy!

Thoughts from the Winery

Our conversations at the Winery last night with Ron Martoia focused on presence.

Ron asked if we knew people who had a sense of presence. Alan mentioned his grandfather who was a Colonel. Magical David spoke of his mentor. And I remembered being at a reception once and feeling compelled to turn and look at a person out of my line of sight because his presence was so strong. (It was the conductor.)

Ron asked what it takes to be people of presence.

Our conversations turned to how much of our life we live on auto-pilot. I remember one morning driving to Chase's school during spring break on my way to work when he wasn't even in the car. So much of our lives are lived planning the future or revisiting the past that we miss the beauty and purpose of the now.

Ron asked if we are living a life that others would want to be invited into.

He asked if we weren't here, would something be missing?

And then, he spoke a great deal about interior silence. Fr. Thomas Keating is an amazing man. I know this not because I've met him, but because I've read his book, Open Heart, Open Mind and have listened to people who have studied under him. Keating's whole live has been about the exercise of contemplative prayer. Sitting in the presence of God without talking, but simply being and listening. If you've ever attempted this, you know that it is really, really difficult to quiet your thoughts for a full 20 minutes to simply focus on God's powerful, loving presence.

Ron actually has met Keating. And he spoke about Keating being one of those people of presence.

As I sit here and type this, I'm about to start my very busy day--one without a lot of space for interior silence. My commitment to myself when I come home tonight is to take a walk. Time simply to be quiet. To feel sun on my face and wind in my hair and to know God. And if I'm really lucky, I'll have time to sit in silence at the end of the day and simply be aware that God is. And that He's love. And that He's enough.

The Nose Ring Test Drive

At first, I didn't like them. In Joan Osborne's video back in the day, I remember that it was all I could see.

But now? Well, everytime I see a woman with one I'm jealous.

And no, it has nothing to do with the fact that I really like Nerf Herder's "Nose Ring Girl Song." Though I do.

I decided to test drive the magnetic version. But John doesn't like it and I doubt my boss would be a fan.

Still, if I could, I would. Because there is something about the assymetry of it that is appealing. And are pretty. And shiny. And fun. And I would really, really like the real thing.

Because you know what? The magnetic version comes off when you sneeze.

The Non-Scrapbooking Retreat

So a lot of people are into scrapbooking. Beautiful layouts, acid-free papers, carefully penned journal entries and it all takes hours.

For the rest of us, we are still stuck with hard drives full of images with no prints or boxes that are a mish-mash of events and eras.

So today I hosted the 3-Hour Non-Scrapbooking Retreat. Breakfast was served and my friends and I sorted and labeled and tossed.

And you know what? It felt great. We all got so much done!

Normally tedious tasks made into a party with friends.

And not a glue stick or embellishment in sight.

Non-scrapbooking rocks.

On our walk...

Tonight on our walk through the nature preserve we passed this sign: "Watch for Wildlife." And under the sign, wiggling his little whiskery nose sat a bunny.

We wondered if the armadillo was going to come relieve him from his shift at the top of the hour.

Date Night

Many years ago when our kids became old enough to no longer need a babysitter, John and I decided to take back Saturday nights. We flip who gets to design the date.

Since I've been sick the past couple of days (upper respiratory infection--yes, I'm on antibiotics, but athsma is zapping me big time) I decided to simply go out for a very nice dinner.

At work, we've discovered this absolute jewel of a restaurant called, Nazar. It's on Addison road across from the Outback. The food is Turkish.

Because I'm not familiar with Turkish food, each time I've been, I've tried something new and everything has been delicious. I do howerver know Turkish coffee--which I adore. So each time I go, the waiter knows to bring me some.

Since I've only been at lunch, tonight was a relaxing treat and we enjoyed everything from appetizers to dessert.

The restaurant gets its name from the famous Turkish good luck charm. The amulet is typically made of glass and has concentric circles. On one of our lunch visits the waiter brought us each a small nazar, which I suspended from a ribbon and made into a necklace today.

After the delicious meal, John and I are now curled up in front of the TV.

I love date night!

Casey's Birthday

A couple of weeks ago, I was going through some old photos and found one of Casey as a puppy. It noted his birthday as March 10, 1997.

So tonight, we celebrated Casey's twelfth birthday. We took he and the other dogs on a long walk, then later loaded him up into the car and took him to Wendy's for a hamburger (double-stack, no cheese, dry).

One of the adoreable things about Casey is that he shows gratitude by biting your hair. (In John's case, his beard.)

All the way back from Wendy's, Casey said thank you. And a few times later tonight.

I love that dog.

Amazing Moments

Tonight I sat with Angie and the Jumpers watching a sunset with a glass of Zinfandel and Ben playing acoustic guitar in the background.

Watching a sunset with good friends, good conversation and good wine was amazing. Let's do it again!

Watching the Watchmen

John and I took the DART rail and went to the Irish Festival today. (We never could get both our faces in the picture by trying to snap ourselves with the iPhone.)

The whole thing was fun with bagpipe music and those little clay flutes. I got some fabulous jewelry at Uptown Copper--the Vodickas amazing art jewelry business. We had scones with strawberries and roasted corn. (Mmmmm....)

After a full day of walking and fair food we used our Studio Movie Grill gift card (thank you RDFL friends!) and went to see The Watchmen.

First I have to say that this movie is FULLY rated R--so don't be shocked by the swearing, nudity, horrific violence, uncomfortably long sex scene, etc. You've been warned.

In leaving the theatre tonight, John and I were wondering whether or not we actually liked the movie. The cinematography was truly art and the story complex and well written, but the characters were not at all relatable or likeable.

We focused most of our post-movie conversation on "Dr. Manhattan." The character is very god-like and completely detatches from humanity. And you can see why. He is so far above them, that he loses connection to them.

And then we started talking that God could easily be like that. And there is wonder that He's not. A God who actually loves us...who doesn't pack up and go away....who doesn't manipulate (distinction: Christians often do, but God doesn't.)...a God who isn't too busy with the bigger things...is worthy of devoting your life to. I am continually surprised by God's deep respect for human will and for the beauty and love in His interactions with us. A God like that is worthy of pursuit.

My other big takeaway was that the world as it is isn't worth saving. Preserving all of the violence, greed and chaos doesn't seem like that big of a win. There has to be restoration. Love, peace, gentleness, kindness...God has to be setting things right otherwise it is simply a continuation of a very weary story.

All of this to say that I'm glad I saw the movie, if for those thoughts alone. Would be interested to know what others thought of it.

On being a rabid fan...

And so, I was wondering what makes a "rabid fan." For example, why am I a rabid fan of Joss Whedon or Seth Godin or Steve Taylor or for that matter Ross Perot (back when he ran for office)?

Why are people "rabid fans" for Obama?

It occurs to me that any time you've been thinking something and someone gives you words to articulate it, your affection and appreciation for them exceeds normal bounds.

For example, in college when I first heard Steve Taylor's music, he put words to all of the frustration I was feeling in the schism between my faith and what I was seeing in the church. How did Steve know, I truly, truly didn't "Want to be a Clone"?

Ross Perot was a voice outside of the status quo political system. (Much as Obama is now.) It felt like such a relief for someone to actually admit how screwed up the system really was without blaming the other political party in some sort of career-advancing move.

Joss Whedon stepped outside of the tried and true and created characters that were flawed and yet extraordinary. They were people we wanted to know because we could relate.

Seth Godin has taken marketing to a level that actually respects the people we are marketing to. They aren't "marks" or "assets." They are "people." That integrity resonates.

The interesting thing to me in considering this is that I'm not sure any of these men knew they would strike such a chord. I don't perceive that they were looking for the "next big thing." It appears they were simply being true to themselves and telling their own stories.

As it turns out, they learned that their stories were shared. But I bet they didn't know that in the beginning. Which makes the whole thing even more worthy of screaming and asking for autographs.

Humanity, the Musical

Sometimes a series of moments strikes odd.

In the airport, I watched an interaction of a couple in their 70’s. The husband offered to carry the wife’s suitcase, but she jerked it away with an annoyed, “I’ve got it.” I didn’t process it too far beyond curiosity until a few meters down the concourse, I saw another woman sitting in a chair with her feet in her husband’s lap as he massaged them.

The juxtaposition of the two couples stayed with me.

Now, what I failed to mention is that as I was thinking about this on my trip last week, I had a soundtrack courtesy of my headphones. An engaged couple’s duet about doubt and the upcoming nuptials (Xander and Anya) from “Buffy the Musical” interjected itself into my considerations:

“I lied. I said it’s easy.
I’ve tried, but there’s these fears I can’t quell.
X: Is she looking for a pot of gold?
A: Will I look good when I’m growing old?
X: Will our life be way too stressful if I’m never that successful?
A: What if I get so worn and wrinkly that I look like David Brinkley?
Am I crazy? Am I dreamin’? Am I marrying a demon?
We could really raise the beam in making marriage a hell.
So thank God I’ll never tell.”

For those of you who aren’t rabid Joss Whedon fans and have not seen this episode (several times), the plot to “Buffy the Musical” includes the revelation of all of the secrets the characters are hiding from the others. It’s worth mentioning that in each case the dishonesty is intended to protect, but rather than improving things the lies create walls and isolation.

So, with those images in mind, I took my seat on the plane.

You know that V of a view you get where you only see the shoulders of the couple in front of you? Well in this little window, the woman very tenderly stroked her husband’s shoulder, but he gave no acknowledgment to the gesture. He simply read his newspaper.

Again, Buffy helpfully supplied the background music.

“Why is the path unclear when we know hope is near? Understand we go hand in hand, but we’ll walk alone in fear."

It seemed a powerful statement. Going hand in hand, but walking along in fear. And it occurred to me we do exactly that. We keep secrets to protect. (No worries, John. You know all of mine.) We pull away. We’re afraid to need anything, and so we don’t let ourselves enjoy the magic of a simple touch on the shoulder or the offer for assistance with our bags.

For some of us, that self-sufficiency is a learned skill. Because growing up in a broken world, there are many times that we need some of the beautiful human basics and have no way to get them. We learn to live without or we don’t survive.

But the need remains. And the fear remains.

And just when I was completely discouraged over the whole fallen world we live in, I looked to my left at the couple sitting next to me (60-ish) and realized they’d been touching the whole time. Holding hands. Passing comforting gestures during take off and landing. As we stood and waited to deplane, he rubbed her shoulders. Little tender mercies of a life shared.

My iPod chimed in:

“I lived my life in shadow. Never the sun on my face.
It didn’t seem so sad though. I figured that was my place.
Now I ‘m bathed in light. Something just isn’t right.
I’m under your spell. How else could it be that anyone would notice me?
It’s magic I can tell. How you set me free. Brought me out so easily.”

Love really is magic.

All kinds. Romantic. Friendship. Worship. Random kindnesses shared between strangers…

What if our default were to open ourselves to it rather than to lie pretending we don't need it? Wouldn't that be a much more satisfying musical? A much, much better story? Openness to love makes even an ugly airport beautiful in parts.

Meeting Melly

I use this nickname because it strikes me that my friend might not want to be googled in someone's blog and given that it is 6am on a Sunday morning I probably shouldn't call and ask.

Melly and I went to middle and high school together and recently reconnected via Facebook. As it turns out, she lives just a hop-skip-and a jump from me so we grabbed some lunch at Pei Wei Saturday.

What started as lunch flowed into a four-hour conversation about life after high school, who was doing what, reunions, work, the joy of having dogs and a host of other things.

One of our most interesting threads was about perception. For example, I would have told you that Melly was probably one of the most connected people I knew. She had tons of friends and fit in well with almost every crowd. In fact, she's heard that sentiment echoed by others. But of course, like most of us, the reality was that Melly struggled with feeling accepted and finding her place in the world. Something that I'm realizing per the self-doubt post that continues to strike even after you think you have it all sorted out. (Melly actually pinged me with the very practical advice that this "lost" feeling happens to all of us and that trying something new can spark the "i's" and "e's.")

After our lunch/Starbucks I went to the marker class and had a great time. Then dinner with John and grocery shopping for RDFL. Today is Angie's baby shower and since I'm feeling really tired, I plan to take things slow this morning getting ready and will miss church. But come 12, I will have food on tables and I'm excited to see our RDFL crowd. And tonight after all is said and done I plan to crawl into bed shockingly early with a remote control or a book in hand so I'm ready for Monday.