It occurred to me as I was reading through the information on Governor Sarah Palin from Alaska, McCain’s new running mate, that NO public officer has ever enjoyed marijuana. I want to say up-front that this is not a bashing of Governor Palin, nor is it an endorsement. I’m just making an interesting observation. She said that she smoked marijuana when it was legal in Alaska, but that she didn’t like it. My memory is not that great, but it seems to me that each time someone running for office reveals (or has it revealed for him/her) that he smoked marijuana, the marijuana is never enjoyed. (Of course, Bill Clinton doesn’t really know if he likes it or not since he never inhaled. Basically, he just wasted his time and energy!)

I’m not sure what this says about politicians. Perhaps more research should be done. Can marijuana not be enjoyed by those with huge egos (i.e., politicians in general)? Do those supplying the marijuana have ESP, and therefore, only non-enjoyable marijuana is distributed to future candidates? It might make an interesting scientific study and might offer us a little more information about the physiological aspect of politicians’ brains. It might also show us what a public liar’s brain looks like (versus those of us who lie more privately)!

I want to admit here and now that I was a cigarette smoker, and I LIKED IT. In fact, I LOVED IT! Furthermore, if someone would create cigarettes that would not kill me, I’d be the first to buy them! As for the marijuana…..well, I’m not running for office!

Why is it that men get to do whatever in the heck they want to do whenever in the heck they want to do it? For some women, their husbands hunt. For some, they golf. Others have hobbies like skiing or fishing or boating. Some men run or bike or swim. There are those men who put together models or work on cars or watch every sporting event shown on television. Still others attend any game for which tickets can be found. Some men are musicians or artists or horsemen. ALL MEN have hobbies.

Many women have hobbies as well. I, for one, enjoy reading. I also love to shop and have Girls Night Out. I’d even go so far as to say that one of my hobbies is just piddling around the house. It makes me feel good!

The difference in men and women? Men choose when they’ll do their hobbies and let their wives know, assuming she’s available to watch THEIR children. Women ask permission, make sure that the man will, in fact, be at home, that he has not already made other plans. It’s universal. If you men ever wonder what we talk about under our breaths when we think you’re not listening, you now know. Many of the men I know are fantastic husbands, hands-on fathers, great providers…..Still the question remains - Why is that men get to do whatever in the heck they want to do whenever in the heck they want to do it?

Those who know me know that I’m a girlie girl. While I don’t wear bows in my hair (never have, I promise!!), I do like my fake nails, my colored medium length hair (yes, with a little hairspray), a little more makeup, my jewelry…. I also LOVE shoes and purses and have a fashion sense of my own (may not always work, but I definitely have an idea in my head). I’m obsessed, yes obsessed, with the scales and my weight - my cross to bear unfortunately. Basically, shallow as it may be, my appearance matters to me.

When I was a single girl, I never went anywhere without makeup. I’d even sweat it out at the pool after taking a shower and fixing my hair and makeup. I’d go to an early morning women’s workout at the gym AFTER applying a little makeup. I think the Bible calls that vanity! Once married, nothing changed except that I did let Rowland see me in my purest form. BUT….I always fixed my hair and makeup (after straightening the house to perfection) before he came home from work.

When Carson started preschool, I got up early enough to shower and fix my hair and makeup before driving him to school - and that was for the drop-off line! I remember being amazed at my friends who could take their children to school in their PJs. What? Drive to school in your PJs? What if someone saw you? Ugh!!! I also remember the one time that I got pulled over in the small town we lived in at the time. I was only blocks from our house, was running late (yes, I had that problem then, too), had not showered, and yielded at a stop sign in the neighborhood. I was SO embarrassed that I had to talk to the policeman in such a state. Fortunately, he probably mistook my frustration for that of getting pulled over instead of my being mortified by my appearance and didn’t give me a ticket. That was the last time I drove my son to school without makeup. That is, until……

Fast forward four kids later…. I began to run the kids up to school a few blocks from our house - sans makeup! After all, it was only a few blocks, and I didn’t have to walk them into the building. As time passed, I became more comfortable with my new self and would even drive them in my pajamas with a sweatshirt pulled over the top. In California, I always drove the entire hour loop to all three schools in my pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt and no makeup. Often, I’d stop in the church to say “hi” to Rowland and my friends in my less-than-attractive state!

Now, the kids ride the bus to school. Since my little one goes, and my middle one is having a tough time with going to school this year, I often walk them to the bus stop - in my pajamas without even running a brush through my hair. Basically, the neighborhood probably knows me as “that mom who runs around the streets in her pajamas.” I’d like to say that the only time anyone sees me like that is when I’m taking the kids to the bus stop, but actually I check the mail in my jammies, take out the trash in my jammies, stand around outside visiting with my neighbors in my jammies…. Don’t worry, though, you’ll not find a picture of me on my own blog in my jammies!! After all, I do have a reputation to TRY to maintain!!

A wonderful movement started in San Jose, California a few years ago. It’s called Beautiful Day, and the goal is for churches to partner with each other to make a real difference in the community. Beautiful Day is not a program, and there is no formula for making it work. That’s the cool part of it. You just reach out to the community, ask what’s needed, and then do it!

Our church had a wonderful Beautiful Day project a few weeks ago, cleaning up and dressing up the grounds of an elementary school near our church. Some people worked harder than others, but the feeling of community and desire to help was universally felt. The principal came alongside church members as well as some school staff. The project cost the school nothing. Items were either donated or people at the church covered costs. It truly was a beautiful day and felt good to be the hands of Jesus in the community!!

The Man in Charge, My Handsome Husband

William Keeping an Eye on the Little Guys

Carson Working Very Hard!!

KeKe and Jia Taking a Break

Bob and the Blonde

Bob walked into a sports bar around 9:58 PM. He sat down next to a blonde at the bar and stared up at the TV. The 10:00 PM news was coming on. The news crew was covering a story of a man on a ledge of a large building preparing to jump.

The blonde looked at Bob and said, “Do you think he’ll jump?”

Bob says, “You know, I bet he’ll jump.”

The blonde replied, “Well, I bet he won’t.”

Bob placed a $20 bill on the bar and said, “You’re on!”

Just as the blonde placed her money on the bar, the guy on the ledge did a swan dive off the building, falling to his death.

The blonde was very upset, but willingly handed her $20 to Bob, saying, “Fair’s fair. Here’s your money.”

Bob replied, “I can’t take your money. I saw this earlier on the 5 PM news so I knew he would jump.”

The blonde replied, “I did, too, but I didn’t think he’d do it again.”

Bob took the money.

What an awesome week we had at Camp Pinecrest. Once again this year, I was with the preschoolers, and they were the sweetest, most energetic little people! Totally worn out each day, I still left with a smile on my face. My prayer for each of the children who attended is that they would know that they were loved by the teachers and that God loves each one of them! I must say that I was inspired and amazed as I watched two mothers of small children whose husbands have left them in the last few weeks. Each day, those ladies showed up with big smiles, hauling their children by themselves, and loving others’ children throughout the week. I know that God has special blessings for these beautiful women and their precious children! Serving in the midst of brokenness is truly a God-thing!!

Some of My Babies with My “Fashion Friend” Helping

Cayden and Jia Enjoying the Music

William Getting in on the Action

My Precious “Adopted” Son and “Sister”

Sissy Leading the Music with Her Friends

Two of My Best Friends - God Has Been Good to Me!!

Jia Getting Mommy Love

The Kind Old Lady

All women should live so long as to be this kind of old lady!

Toward the end of Sunday service, the Minister asked, “How many of you have forgiven your enemies?”

80% held up their hands.

The Minister then repeated his question.

All responded this time, except one small elderly lady.

“Mrs. Neely? Are you not willing to forgive your enemies?”

“I don’t have any,” she replied, smiling sweetly.

“Mrs. Neely, that is very unusual. How old are you?”

“Ninety-eight,” she replied.

“Oh, Mrs Neely, would you please come down in front and tell us all how a person can live ninety-eight years and not have an enemy in the world?”

The little sweetheart of a lady tottered down the aisle, faced the congregation, and said:

“I’ve outlived all the bitches!”

Several years ago, Rowland and I were out on a first post-baby date. I was still carrying some post-baby weight and wasn’t feeling very attractive. While Rowland was finishing up in a store, I went ahead of him to get into the truck, a huge Ford F-250. As I was climbing in, I noticed several men walking past who were obviously checking me out. I thought to myself, “Well, I must not look that bad! They think I’m cute.” About that time, I heard one of the men say, “Damn! What a gorgeous truck!”

Fast forward to yesterday at the hardware store. Rowland was waiting for some paint to be mixed, and I was back in the plumbing department looking for an ice maker kit. Once again, I was feeling a little blah since most of my makeup was gone, and I was running around in sweats. I kept noticing this man looking at me. Feeling uncomfortable, I tried to avoid the aisle he would be looking on, but I just kept bumping into him. I also kept thinking, “Why would this man be checking me out like that? I look like crap!” Finally, we ended up side by side on an aisle and happened to look at each other at exactly the same time. Embarrassed, I started to look away when he said, “Those glasses look great on you!” Me, outloud: “Thank you.” Me, to myself, “What are you, a freakin’ optometrist?”

No, I did NOT call myself a moron; however, I am an oxymoron! Webster says that an oxymoron is “a combination of contradictory words.” Some examples: sinfully good, sadly funny, house-trained dog, balanced insanity (a.k.a. Kitty), and my personal favorite Mr. Wise, the principal I had when I was teaching who was a total moron!

How am I an oxymoron? I don’t like a schedule. I don’t like for anyone to have control over my time. I live for, long for those days when I have nothing on my plate but lying on the bed, reading, watching The View or Grey’s Anatomy. A little laundry isn’t a big deal nor is straightening the house as long as I don’t have to answer the phone, get dressed at any certain time, run errands, or have any appointments. Even now, I’m CRAVING Friday when I’ll have a no-scheduled schedule (an oxymoron?)!

Here’s the contradiction, though. By the end of that day, I feel totally worthless and end up depressed. The solution? Get busy! So I volunteer in the schools more (today it’s two different schools), volunteer to lead a Bible study, sing on the worship team, organize the Newcomers Receptions at church, agree to lunches with friends, even sign up to be Secretary of the PTO. My schedule is full of field trips, helping in the classroom, spending time at church, talking to friends, running here and there and everywhere else. As I type this part, I am filled with anxiety, the stress of so many things to do and trying to keep them all straight in my head. And when will I nap? More stress! (But no depression - just stress headaches!)

Obviously, one might say that a happy medium is where the answer lies. That really doesn’t work for me since I’m not sure what a happy medium is. I like a busy schedule, yet I hate a busy schedule. I like to check off all of the things that I’ve gotten done, but my head usually hurts while I’m checking them off. I like to keep a well-organized calendar, yet all of the things that I have to do keep swirling around in my brain.

Today, I have a great day planned. I’m at the middle school this morning for a couple of hours collating registration packets. This afternoon, I’m in William’s class helping with production of their consumer projects. Somewhere in between, I need to send out an e-mail to the girls starting next week’s Bible study to let them know that I ordered books and the cost of each. Oh, yeah, and I need to run by the church during that in-between time to make copies of a letter to go out to all of the parents in Kitty’s class, the letter that I haven’t yet written! I’ll check William out of school early for his physical for camp. (I got confused - imagine that - and tried to take him to the doctor yesterday - wrong day - oops!) Then, I’ll come home, figure out dinner before sending my husband and Carson off to worship practice, getting the little ones showered and ready for bed, working out, and finally eating dinner at 9:00 when I curl up in my bed to watch the previously recorded Grey’s Anatomy. My heart’s racing, and I’m full of anxiety (or is it anticipation?). Will I enjoy each section of my day? Absolutely! Will I get it all done? Yes. Do I wish that I had nothing to do today? Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No. See? I’m an oxymoron!

I just don’t get it! I’ve really tried to understand this whole Facebook phenomenon. I’ve tried to participate by accepting invitations, extending invitations, even writing a thing or two on people’s walls. I’ve taken quizzes that were sent to me. I’ve looked at people’s pictures and at who knows whom. I just don’t get it! Do you have to spend hours just going from one person’s page to the next checking out “what they’re doing right now?” When is the appropriate time to post what you happen to be doing at that exact moment? How often do you share that information? Who really cares? If I want to know what you’re doing, I’ll call and ask you or send you an e-mail. If you want to know what I”m doing, you can call and ask me. (I probably won’t answer the phone because I’m either busy doing something or I don’t feel like sharing what I’m doing! But you’re welcome to try!)

Just today, someone in China wrote on my wall “Kitty…..Really…..” Obviously, he’s responding to something that I wrote on his wall, but I checked back through his wall, and I can’t find anywhere where I wrote anything. Maybe he’s responding to something I wrote on someone else’s wall. Either way, I have no clue what his message means and no way to track it down. What kind of system of communication is that?

And no offense to those who are my age or older, but what in the heck are you doing on Facebook? It has to be like “new math,” something we’re not even supposed to understand! We’re not going to be young and cool no matter how many friends we have or how many people write on our walls. (What is a “wall” anyway?) Give it up!

I guess I’ll keep accepting friend requests since I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. After all, most of the people are already my friends anyway. Beyond that, I don’t know what else to do. I feel like I’ve entered a foreign world every time I get on Facebook, a world where one could waste hours and hours just finding out what everyone’s doing right now. In my opinion, they don’t need to post what they’re doing. If they’re on Facebook, they’re wasting the same hours I am!