Thanksgiving
you know where you stand with me –
my favorite
and you always will be.
Accidental fbf
Have you ever been enjoying an apple while out and about and decided, Hey, I should check Facebook? And have you ever logged onto Facebook using your smartphone and tried scrolling? But thanks to some apple juice on your finger it doesn’t slide but kind of sticks and before you know it you send a friend request to somebody you haven’t met yet?
And there you are, away from your computer and no way to recall the request. You have to let it go and so you hope that person rejects you.
And has that person ever accepted your friend request?
And is that person a friend of a friend that a couple of days later you find yourself at the same party?
And while at the party have you ever overheard that person say your name to another friend and both look in your direction?
Have you then looked at the person sitting next to you and quickly pretend to be deep in the most engaging conversation since Eve brought the fruit to Adam?
And for the rest of the night, have you ever avoided your newest fbf because you were too tired to cope with the embarrassment gracefully?
Yeah, me neither.
When words hurt
Trevor Christine
Sure, it looks innocent enough
I bought my car last September. A cute Toyota RAV 4 that I coveted for a long time. Promptly upon leaving the car lot (and signing my life away) I christened is Trevor. Yeah, Trevor the Toyota RAV 4. It doesn’t quite roll off the tongue like Felix the Ford Explorer, but it is clever enough for me. And wrong. It should have been dubbed Christine – as if in, Stephen King’s horror story of a possessed car.
When I test drove it, I put it through all the normal routines.
√ Made it up the belt route while exceeding the speed limit (meaning horsepower is decent)
√ Power windows worked pushing the down and then the up button (former car story)
√ I looked cute in it (self explanatory)
The delayed comeback
Cali Traveler
Hello there,
to the Cali plates in front of me
on a blue
Dodge traveling on I-80
heading west.
You are cordially invited….
Things are falling into place quite nicely. As I mentioned, I have a birthday approaching. The big 4-0. Or as I like to call it, my eleventh 29th.
The hardest part of my birthday road trip is finished – deciding where to go. The lucky destination that gets the pleasure of my presence is Missouri. You might be saying, “Um, what?” right now. Yes, Missouri beat out both the Grand Canyon (been there) and Glacier National Park in Montana (why would I want to go someplace colder?!). But Missouri? It has some church history spots I want to see (I can almost hear the ohhhs). Only one small hitch in the get-up – I haven’t made any room reservations. I can’t until payday next week. So… I might be sleeping in the car. All are invited to join me but if it’s a party of one, that’s okay, too. I’m ready and excited.
But this isn’t about the road trip. This is about my birthday party and you are all invited to that, too.
See, my sister, Zoe, did the math for me and discovered something interesting. Tomorrow will be 40 days until my birthday. My 40 to 40, if you will. Ready to celebrate?
To help me ring in middle age and oldsville, I am throwing a 40 day party. Starting tomorrow I am asking you to do something every day until August 5th (which, in my opinion, is probably the best day of the whole stinkin’ year). Here are your choices and feel free to do one, two, or three a day!
Here’s how you can help celebrate my birthday:
- Do something brave – something you have never done before
- Do something kind – a random act of service
- Be grateful – send a thank-you card to someone different each day
Do one, two, or three of these every day starting tomorrow and culminating on August 5th. I’d like to say I’ll accomplish all three every day but let’s be realistic. I live in a small town and live in a bit of a rut. There’s no possible way I could do number 1 for forty days. But I’m going to do at least one of the goals every day.
True, there is no reason for you to join me. But I sure hope you will and keep me posted. Otherwise, it will be me by myself at my own party. For forty lonely days. Insert sad emoticon here :~(
“All by myself… don’t wanna be… all by myself.”
Won’t you join me at my birthday party?
The confrontation
I’m going to act brave.
I’m going to think I’m tall.
I’m not going to let you see
that I’m actually feeling small.
Scaredy Cat
I have never been what you would call a brave person. Most of my life I’ve been plagued by fears, some valid, a lot irrational. As I’ve gotten older, most have tapered off. I’ve been able to face some previous worries and stare them down. Though I will never consider myself a courageous person, I can at least handle most qualms when they arise but maybe not always willingly. I usually deal with uncertainties or ignore them completely. The other night I was home alone and had just crawled into bed when I heard an eerie scratching noise. My only thought was, if burglars are breaking in to the house, I hope they keep it down so that I can sleep. And I promptly fell asleep. (Rest assured no one broke into my house; it was the east wind rubbing a stray branch against the house).
