Clayton and I spent Memorial Day weekend acting brilliantly normal and pretending like we had friends after we got invited to/stood close enough to people talking about a barbecue.
I was so excited to actually spend time with people other than my husband and dog (love you boys!) I laid my clothes out 16 hours in advance and planned Sunday down to the second in schoolgirlish anticipation. It was sweetly frightening, even to me, and had anyone remotely connected to this …

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Long story short: we had a May trip to Florida planned months ago. At the last minute, I got creative, turned the whole trip on its head, gave it a good shove and still managed to avoid stepping on an airplane.  
I don’t want to bore/nauseate/confuse you to tears with the details of my itinerary. Mainly because I’m still not exactly sure what they were myself; I just sort of got in my car every five days and hoped it knew …

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Did I mention that I’m freelancing full time? Yeah, that happened. Sorry if you didn’t get invited to the party, but you wouldn’t have come anyway. It was in God-forsaken Newport News.
We added to our family. Her name is Tyra and she is a sparkly black 2011 Honda Civic and awesome and I love her and throw out that coffee because we’re leasing.
The gym has been oh-so-good to my moods. And my love handles.
Clayton and I stumbled upon a little …

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I fear that you have misunderstood. Or that I’ve been misleading.
My life, here in Newport News, Virginia, is incredible. I speak of sadness and missing and what-am-I-doing-here moments,
but
I am healthy.
Whether nature or nurture, it is not in my composition to adjust to being far away from
Brenda or Ken or Tony
or Grace
or aunt-uncle-cousins families.
So, constant undercurrents of emotion
surge and wane
at unpredictable and strange times.
While every day is not spotless from tears,
my everyday is filled with
laughing with my husband
and playing with my …

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I was worried to write a list of “thankful fors” because it would be too expected. But if one day I woke up in a world where too many people were saying what they were thankful for too many times, I think I’d be okay with that. So…
for a God that loves me when I fail every day,
for a husband that can roll his eyes or kiss my forehead or follow up my movie quote with the next line or …

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The calm before the storm has arrived. It could be my imagination, but the leaves swirling around the backyard are whispering “Don’t break Thanksgiving. Don’t break Thanksgiving.” I’m a little more than nervous about the menu I’ve planned; could have been too ambitious. But we’ll find out in about 36 hours.
On a less panic attack-inducing note, my dear friend Matthew got engaged Monday night. I wish I could have been there to celebrate with him and his soon-to-be Mrs. Robinson. Matthew …

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This whole experience of moving has come with a seemingly endless well of firsts. And I’m talking in just the last three hours there has been a growing list. Like right now, it’s almost 1AM and I’m just now using the office in our “new” house specifically for writing. It’s intended purpose from the start. Feels pretty good. It might feel better if the sudden kick into the blogosphere wasn’t the result of “To Catch a Predator”-induced insomnia. Seriously, why …

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1. You own something emblazoned with a Disney character. And you have not yet banished it to the memories box in the attic.
2. You spell things phonetically, not correctly.
3. You shrug absentmindedly when I quote Dumb and Dumber, instead of following up with the next line.
4. You don’t know what “unfortch” or “whatevs” mean.
5. You expect me to wear make up or pants, even if I’m not at work or church.
6. You won’t let me grip your wrist for the entire …

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Normally this is the kind of entry that I would think about doing and never actually sit down and create. But with Clayton’s certification exam getting nauseatingly close and our move-in with my parents complete, I’ve found myself with quite a bit of free time on my hands. So, please enjoy a little snippet of those things that made up my 2009.

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Clayton and I …

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A few weeks ago I had one of the worst days of my young life. I know that’s uselessly relative and cryptic, but that’s not what this is really about. In the middle of the worst part of the awfulness, these words were said: “Life is ugly.” Even sitting there in the midst of pain and tears and lowest lows, I didn’t want to believe that. I’ve always tried to cling to the comforting notion that Life is beautiful — at the core, there is beauty and happy …

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