Cancer sucks

It's just a crappy disease that has killed one too many innocent people. No better way to say it other than it sucks.

The reason we have rats:

Today I came home from work to find 2 sweaty men in our back yard, one of which was my husband, and this:

If I were a rat, our garage would be like heaven on earth. In addition to the items above, we also have a refrigerator, dryer, pin ball machine, riding lawn mower, and various other tools, etc. stored inside. All in all, there is a plethora of hiding places for the rats, plus a feast - including grass seed, citronella candles, foam insulation - you name it.

Liquid poison is a last resort and will likely be distributed next week if the rats aren't gone yet, per Byron, our kind and diligent "rat guy." Many thanks to K and Uncle Ryan for working so hard to seal up the holes, clean things out, and restore organization to our once disasterous garage - all of which will hopefully ensure the grand and final exodus of our nasty rodent friends.

I really, really, really hate eating at weird times

Growing up, my parents implemented a relatively strict regimen on meal times to 1) prohibit my bro and I from eating whatever we wanted whenever we wanted and 2) teach us the value in having a daily schedule combined with other activities between lunch, dinner, snack, etc. As a result of this, I am extremely, extremely opposed to odd meal times occurring outside the following windows:

Lunch - 11:00 - 12:30
Snack - 3:00
Dinner - 6:00 - 7:30

My family will tell you that these windows are too broad, and in actuality I freak out if dinner is not served by 6:00. This used to be true, but I've gotten much more flexible in my older years - especially when it comes to the weekend.

But okay - in all seriousness let's think about this. Lunch at 2:00, 3:00, or 4:00 is just about the most impractical thing ever. Having breakfast is clearly not enough, because by the time lunch is served your stomach is eating itself. When I don't eat, I get VERY grumpy and irritable. I don't want to just eat a snack to tide me over until a late lunch either, because my body is expecting a full meal, and will not settle until I have just that. And then, there's an entirely separate issue that arises around the timing of dinner. If you eat lunch at 3:00, then you're not hungry at 6:00 dinner time, and then it gets too close to 9:00 by the time you're ready to eat again. Ask my college roommates. I NEVER eat after 9:00. It's a rule I heard on Oprah years ago and will live by till the day I die.

Yes, it's a little silly to get so bent out of shape over a topic as such. I know that I should be flexible with meal times like every other American and just deal with it. But I'm really festering given that I'll be forced to have weird afternoon lunches both Saturday AND Sunday of this coming weekend. Like, I have to force myself to not think about it or I will get in a bad mood.

Everyone has their pet peeve right? And ridiculous rantings are what blogs are for in my mind. I'll get over it, but in the meantime I would highly encourage you to stick with traditional meal times for the benefit of all mankind.

*DISCLAIMER: If you happen to be a fan of eating at weird times I'm sure you're a wonderful person, and this post is in no way, shape or form meant to be a direct attack on your personal character. In addition, should I be invited to a 3:00 lunch that you are hosting, I will gladly partake on an occasional basis with great appreciation.

Yee Haw!

K and I each got a pair cowboy boots this weekend at Cavenders. Yee haw!!! His red neck bro was gracious enough to accompany us city yuppies in picking out the perfect pair, and offered his expert opinion along the way. I wore them last night to dinner with a girlfriend of mine, and felt like a trendy cowgirl.

Before I got ready to leave the house, I had a mini dance party and did handstands by myself in our study while jamming out to music on my computer. K was out of town, so I had free reign to bust a move without the fear of being interrupted. I have to admit, I found myself thinking about the word, "normal" that was referenced in my post yesterday. Perhaps I'm weirder than most after all, but at least I'm willing to admit it and I know how to have fun. :-)

There is no such thing as a normal family

Growing up I thought my family was normal. I still think we're somewhat normal to a certain extent, but others looking in might not necessarily agree, especially after reading this post...

This weekend I took a drive to quaint Salado, TX, to celebrate my uncle's 60th birthday. My decision to go was last-minute and spontaneous, spurred by the fact that K had made plans all day to help one of his good friends with home renovation tasks. Rather than sit at home alone, I decided to make the journey in hopes of spending some quality time with family members that I hadn't seen in almost 10 years.

This side of the family is rather unique. For lack of better explanation, I would say they're Renaissance-ish - very into Celtic music, drums, nature. I took a short video of the birthday festivities to better explain:

My sole purpose in posting this is to acknowledge that while some people might find this weird, I think it's one of the coolest birthday parties I've ever been to. I mean check out Cedric - the guy playing the violin. He has long hair down to his waist, a beard almost just as long, and is wearing a black kilt. And the drum players and flutist? These people have serious talent! The girl dancing in the middle is my cousin Laura, along with her youngest daughter Star. Laura sews sweater hats for a living, and her husband Tree makes drums.

I really am so proud to be an Egg and have a genuine appreciation for the way in which my family has grown to become, no matter how strange. To be exposed to such cultural influences growing up has expanded my point of view and made me thankful for things I otherwise wouldn't have even known existed. I am in awe of the talent that both my dad and uncle possess when it comes to wood carving, I love Celtic music, and the frozen red slurpee oranges at Scarborough Fair remain one of the most vivid and favorite memories of my childhood. Not only that, but it’s refreshing to be around people who are so free spirited and don’t take themselves too seriously or worry about what other people think of them.

There's a quote that says, "You don't choose your family. They're God's gift to you." What a great and wonderful gift I've been given!!

"Arbuckle Wilderness...Wow! What a Difference!"

I E-mailed my friend Mel today. This made me think of a great, fun memory I have with her...

We originally met in college, and continued to stay friends post graduation as we both moved to the Big D. About a year or so ago we made a trip to OKC for our friend Lauren's wedding. All in all it ended up being a fabulous vacation, and we felt so blessed to have been able to attend the ceremony and catch up with other dear friends that we hadn't seen in some time.

When I was younger, my family lived in Duncan, OK, and as part of my glorious childhood I remember a trip to Arbuckle Wilderness - the kind of place where you drive through a safari type setting with your windows down and animals come up to your car to say hi and eat feed out of pre-purchased paper cups that you hold in your hand. I tend to be reminiscent, and suggested that we make a run through Arbuckle Wilderness on the way back to Dallas for old times sake. We were feeling spontaneous, and thought it to surely be an exciting adventure.

That, my friends, is an understatement.

It was more than an exciting adventure, not necessarily in a good way. To put it simply, we got attacked by camels. I don't mean that to sound sarcastic or funny. Attacked is what I mean. I have never been so fearful in all my life. Somehow we managed to capture said attack on film. I will let the pictures speak for themselves:

First impression of our seemingly sweet and gentle camel friends. We'll call this one Lilly. Look at her pretty eyelashes!

I stand up out of the sunroof to get a better view of Lilly. She is surprisingly unshy, and quickly approaches me for food. I throw my hands up to demonstrate that I have nothing to share at the moment.

Lilly then proceeds to completely bypass me by extending her neck through the sunroof and into to the car, remaining on her aggressive search for food. I yell out a warning to Mel in the car below.

Somehow I make it back down into the car, only to be instantly ambushed by Lilly's friends from the side windows. They eat my hair, leaving behind hay and camel snarf all over the back of my neck and shirt. At this point I'm screaming at Mel....

...to find her in a similar situation and completely as helpless as I am on the other side of the car. Oh my.

I have no idea how, but we finally managed to put the car in drive and get away from those nasty animals. Thankfully we survived, even though the camels continued to follow our car for quite some time after we managed to escape. I have no witty ending to this story, only a warning to watch out for the camels should you ever feel the desire to drive through Arbuckle Wilderness. Yikes...

Much ado about nothing

1. I chopped my hair off this weekend. Really short. I like it, but am devastated as my stylist is moving to Boston in 3 weeks. The task of finding someone new to entrust with cutting my hair is pretty daunting.

2. K and I went with our friends Cody and Jen to this Lebanese restaurant called Al Amir on Friday. The food was amazing, AND - they had belly dancers there. Talk about some serious entertainment. Part of me secretly wants to learn how to belly dance. I hear it's a great workout.

3. At Al Amir, I learned that Cody was on an episode of Barney back in high school. Apparently the filming studio is in Las Colinas, and he was a member of a marching band on the show. Cody is like a robot, so if you know him and his personality it makes it that much funnier that he was on a kid's show about a purple dinosaur.

4. I love the Houston Rodeo. I miss the Houston Rodeo. I wish the Houston Rodeo would come to Dallas.

That's all I got...

We have rats....

...in our garage. Ew, rats. Gross, gross, gross, gross, gross. THANKFULLY - our garage is detached. I can't imagine sleeping with our living space separated from these disgusting furry rodents by nothing more than a door. How grateful I am that we have a driveway, steps, grass, etc. to bridge the gap.

We had an exterminator come out today and announce that based on the number of rat droppings all over the garage, our problem is pretty severe. As such, he recommended a quarterly extermination plan. This could very well be a ploy to get more money, but at this point all I really care about is them being gone.

The most disturbing part about all of this is that our dryer is in the garage. With me being the primary launderer, this means that the likelihood of rats watching me above the rafters at some point over the past few weeks as I transfer clothes in and out is almost 100%. Knowing that I've been in the same vicinity, maybe even inches apart, from a rat just gives me the heebie jeebies.

To end on a positive note, K has agreed to full dryer duty over the next coming weeks. I wonder if I can figure out a way to get out of any other weekly chores by blaming the rats...

I also love babies...

In addition to weddings, I also love babies...but am by no means ready to have one of my own. I repeat - I AM BY NO MEANS READY TO HAVE ONE OF MY OWN, NOR AM I PREGNANT.

A lady at work told me the other day that she had a dream I was pregnant. Since we have no walls on our cubes, the entire floor happened to hear. I'm either getting fat, or people missed the "I had a dream" part of her story, because I've had several recent inquiries about K's and my plans to start a family.

We've always said 2 years; however, we have not yet begun to decrease that benchmark down to a year and a half, etc. I have a feeling when June comes we'll still be saying 2 years, although come K's 30th birthday in October he's probably going to want to pop one out most immediately, due to sheer fear of getting older.

My best friend from high school lives in Oklahoma and has 2 kids under the age of 2. I have great intentions of being a good mom, but fear that the header of her blog will become a serious reality upon birthing baby #1:

At least I have several amazing friends who have already experienced the joys of motherhood. I'm counting on them to provide words of wisdom and guidance when the time comes for me to join the crowd. They say I have lots to look forward to. We'll see about that...

I love weddings...

My wedding day was by far the best day of my entire life. I married an absolutely amazing and wonderful man, who I love with all of my heart. Despite the glorious wedding festivites, I did NOT have fun actually planning the event. I'd always known I wanted to have a beautiful wedding one day, but the amount of hard work and preparation and multiple people pleasing that goes into it is something that I am so thankful I will not have to endure again. Don't get me wrong - being engaged was fabulous, and I had great moments of bonding with K, Mom, friends, etc., but still...

This weekend we were blessed to share in the union of my dear friend Lindsey and her groom Steven. It was a beautiful ceremony, fun reception, and the couple looked stunning and so in love. The relief that I have felt at each wedding attended after my own has not lessened or subsided yet. I can't tell you how great it feels to sit there in the pew and be able to relax and just enjoy and bask in the goodness and excitement of the celebration that surrounds you. No stress, no worry, no planning. A peaceful reminder of my own sacred vows pledged to my husband 9 months ago, without the insanity leading up to our cherished marriage. Oh how I love weddings....

Congrats, Lindsey and Steven!