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October 30, 2003
Bloggone It!
I know my blog has been acting real ditzy lately- sometimes half of the page loads, sometimes none of it-- argh. Josiah informs me that we're changing servers in the next few days, so we should be back to normal soon. Just wanted to pass that along.
Thanks for hanging in there!
Posted by WonderGirl at 9:17 AM | Comments (4)
October 29, 2003
The Note That Changed My Life
I felt sorry for Preston. He sat in front of me in the third grade and he consistently made the grievous sin of being messy. Mrs. Parker couldn't tolerate sloppiness, and Preston was definitely that. True, when it was time to turn in assignments, he had to rummage through his desk for ages, and I'm sure Mrs. Parker was irritated by the delay. His desk was crammed full of old homework, lunch bags, and other odd assortments of things. When he finally did find his paper, it was crumpled and had a pickle stain on it.
Mrs. Parker was a short, no-nonsense kind of teacher, and always reminded me of a pit bull. If she had gotten a hold of you, it was not likely that you'd get turned loose again. I remember Preston cringing, and often missing recess because Mrs. Parker said he must clean out that abominable desk. Poor Preston.
Watching him, I never wanted to draw Mrs. Parker's attention or disapproval to me. I was extra careful and followed her instructions as closely as possible. However, I was finding it increasingly difficult to see the things she wrote on the chalk board. I was afraid to tell her, and I would squint and ask people around me what she had written. One day, as the class was filing out for recess, Mrs. Parker called me to her desk. I was sure I was in trouble for talking and I prepared my skinny self for the worst.
"Are you having trouble seeing the board, Ms. White?" Mrs. Parker asked. Note to grown-ups, using a child's last name is a highly effective way to scare the crap out of them. I swallowed.
"I guess, I mean, I don't know?" I was nervous. Was I in trouble?
"I want you to take this note home to your mom," said Mrs. Parker, and placing a note in my bag, she ushered me back out to join my classmates on the playground.
A note from your teacher is never a good thing. And they're always smart, they staple it, or tape it, and there's no telling what's in it, no chance to prepare yourself for the worst. I knew it had something to do with whether I could see the board or not, but in my third grade brain, it seemed like there was still a possibility that I was in trouble for something.
So, with the note tucked carefully in my bag, I had the rest of the day to sweat it out.
Well, my fears were fortunately unfounded, and the note was only a suggestion to have my eyes checked. Mom took me that week, and as was suspected, my vision was poor. I proceeded to pick out the biggest, squarest, purplest pair in the store. They were ready a few days later, and with great anticipation, we picked them up.
This is the real point of the story.
The day I got my glasses was the first epiphany of my life.
Who knew you could actually see the leaves on a tree? Each excrutiatingly detailed leaf waved at me as we drove home from the doctors office.
Who knew you could see each rock of the gravel in our driveway? I looked down at my feet as they crunched over the thousands of rocks leading to our doorstep.
Who knew you could see the pastors face in church as he preached? I marveled at the expressions and intensity as he spoke and the fists he made as he emphatically pounded the podium.
Who knew you could see the wings on the birds as they flew over, or the unique shapes the clouds formed in the sky, or the clumps of clover that grew on the hill beside our house? I was dizzy with what I could see.
Who knew? I had lived the first eight years of my life assuming that everyone saw like I did. I had no idea of the detail I was missing, I was blissfully unaware, until that moment, the stylishly large glasses slid onto my nose, and my world changed.
It was almost like a right of passage. Seeing the world like it truly was, I felt priviliged and awed.
Few moments in life have equaled that instant. The kind of moment that sucks the breath out of your lungs, and you know that life will never be the same again.
I find the application of that moment as one of the greatest lessons I've learned in life. I rHeroBoyve it, and I am so grateful for the impairment, just for the sake of the revelation. The revelation that sometimes you think you see everything- you live your whole life thinking others see the same things you do, and then, in an instant, your eyes are opened to a whole new reality, a whole new depth.
One more thing.
With my lovely new glasses, I could see the chalk board. I could see each word, follow each lesson. I could also see Mrs. Parker. I realized, she smiled a lot more than I thought she did. She even smiled at Preston and his pickle stains sometimes.
It was a beautiful epiphany, any way you look at it.
Pun intended.
Posted by WonderGirl at 12:33 AM | Comments (7)
October 27, 2003
Monday's Random Thought
Finally, some chilly weather down here in southern Lousiana. Whenever the first real cold snap hits, I am overcome with the urge to do several things. First, I want to make a big pot of slow-cooked chili. While that's bubbling aromatically on the stove, I find my comfy sweatpants. While I'm in the closet, I do a sweater check, and see how I'm set for winter clothes. I pop in one of my oldie-but-goodie cds like the Cranberries, and I light a candle. I think, mmm... some banana nut bread would be great, so I get that started. Then, when I'm surrounded by dHeroBoycious smells, comfy clothes, and good music, I curl up with a big, long, epic size book.
That's the beginning of winter for me. I like the idea of hibernating in my cubbyhole, coming out when the mood suits me. It's a lovely thing.
Well, I'm off for now. I'll write more, after I get through a few chapters... I'm reading Terry Goodkind's Naked Empire, which by the way, is not about naked people.
TTFN.
Posted by WonderGirl at 11:28 AM | Comments (6)
October 24, 2003
I've Really Got to Get A Hold of Myself
Next week, I promise more serious topics than drinking games, icecream, and my Stupid moments. Really. Back to good quality blogging. No more senseless rambling. Only the hard-hitting, quality issues that my trusted readers have come to expect from me here at my blog. No more funny business.
Oh crap, I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't do it...
Wait. Calm down. Okay, I've got a plan. I'll just link to some CNN article and then you guys will all respect me again.
Crisis averted. Whew.
Posted by WonderGirl at 12:39 AM | Comments (1)
Drinky the Drunk Guy
I was doing a little research on drinking games (purely academic, of course) and wow. Who knew there were so many ways to inebriate yourself with a deck of cards, a quarter, and a shot glass? Thank you, United Frat Boys of America. You've served your purpose well.
Aw, shoot. I forgot my mom reads this thing.
Well come on, man, it's a Friday!
Posted by WonderGirl at 12:29 AM
October 23, 2003
Meme: When You've Got Nothing Else To Say
Yes, I know, memes are the lazy man's blog entry, but sometimes, you need a break from all that brain stuff. Here's a new one I found, Thursday Thumb-Twiddler. (A classic game for the activity-impaired)
1. If you could have the*original* of anything, what would you want? Would you keep it for yourself, or would you share it with others? I would want something that belonged to an ancestor of mine: letters, bibles, jewelry, something really old and important in my family history. I sound like the Chief of Nerds, but that's what I'd like. Leave me alone. Or, maybe the original trillion dollar bill. That would be nice, too.
2. If you could carve your name in stone anywhere, where would it be? If I say Stonehenge, everybody would just freak out, wouldn't you? "Oh, not Stonehenge, you monster! It's one of the Seven Wonders of the blah blah blah..." Like *Stonehenge is all that great. Harumph. Actually, I'd feel bad carving my name into something, that's just the way my momma raised me
3. If you had a personal valet or maid who would perform one task for you each day, what would that task be? Would that be a good thing to have, or a bad thing? I would have them do the Laundry. Yes, that's a capital L. (You haven't seen this Laundry, it demands uppercase respect!) And yes, that would be a very, very good thing. No, wait, could they give foot massages? Scratch the laundry. I'll take the massage.
And now, if you, like me, having nothing better to say or do with your time, please feel free to twiddle your thumbs as well.
*::Despite current speculation, I do not, nor have I ever, had a grudge against Stonehenge.::
Posted by WonderGirl at 12:38 AM | Comments (1)
October 22, 2003
Doh!
Sometimes I wonder about myself. I drive the same car every day, an automatic. So, why do I occasionally reach down to put it in gear like a standard?! Or why do I try to flip the light switch on the wrong wall in a room I GREW UP IN? I am not generally a spacy person, I guess my brain just takes two second vacations occasionally.
I remember as a kid, thinking how cool it would be to have a birthday on Friday the 13th. I started counting back the years and days to see if that had ever happened to me. I even enlisted the help of my mother, who only laughed at me. "You were born on the eleventh". I knew that. I really did. I just... I dunno.
In the early years of being married, and getting to know King Pen's family, a game of Trivial Pursuit sticks out in my mind. I had to read a question about baseball, and I COULD NOT get past a particular word. I knew it couldn't be right, but for the life of me, I couldn't think of another way to pronounce it. Mis-hit, came out Miss Shit. Oh they had a good laugh at me over that one.
I guess we all have a Stupid Moment every now and then. Don't we? Hopefully? Feel free to post. Really. I won't laugh. Honestly.
Posted by WonderGirl at 11:41 AM | Comments (1)