Stop Honking Your Horn, I'm Trying to Text!

I consider myself to be somewhat technologically knowledgable. However, when it comes to communications gadgetry, I just don't get it. I mean, I know what all the stuff is for. I just don't know why. Take those ridiculous bluetooth headsets for instance. What the heck? I always have to do a double-take when I see those crazed people walking around talking to themselves. At least it looks that way. Does anyone really need one of those things? Maybe doctors, or stock brokers, or secret service agents. I don't think most average human beings need a phone attached to their ears. Probably at some point this will evolve into a device that's implanted directly into a person's head. It'll be a rite of passage to get it, like having your ears pierced. When you turn 2, your mom will take you to the mall to get your first bluetooth implant. Mazel tov!

I don't really understand the whole texting craze either. If you have a phone and can talk directly to a person, why don't you stick with that? Didn't we have something like texting 100+ years ago? What was that called? Oh yeah, the TELEGRAPH. Texting just seems like a step backwards to me. Is the next step a phone that transmits Morse Code? Or better yet, a phone that sends out smoke signals. "Here's my number if you want to smoke me..."

My current phone is very basic. It makes calls. That's it. It doesn't take pictures. It doesn't play games or music or take x-rays or tell the future. It just makes calls. How quaint, right? Yep, at the ripe old age of 31, I just don't get these young folks and their newfangled doodads. When I was a teenager, we just had pagers. They were like caller ID without the phone. You got a buzz or a beep on your hip and then a little blinking number to let you know to call someone. Ah, those were the days.

Spring Fling

Don't tease me, Spring. Don't lead me on. You've shown up a tad early even though that stupid groundhog said you'de be away for at least six more weeks. So, what's the deal? Are you going to stick around long enough for me to dig out my floral prints and then ditch, leaving me scrambling for my thermals? Don't do that. Again.

If you're going to show up, at least consider staying for a while. I can't take it when you lure me into a false sense of security and then run off. You leave me sad and cold and wondering what went wrong. We can make this work, Spring. Make yourself comfortable. There's no pressure for a long term commitment. You're welcome to leave in a few months. But for now, stay. Cozy up with me and make me feel alive again. You won't be sorry.

Good Morning, Wisteria Lane! Let's Cook Up Some Ectoplasm Because the Angels Have the Phonebox!

I'm no longer an avid TV watcher. I can't just sit in front of the tube and flip aimlessly until I find something mildly entertaining. I do, however, have a few shows I watch regularly.
On Sunday evenings I watch Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, mainly because Paulie likes it so much. He's so darn cute when he stands in front of the TV and yells "Good morning *whatever* family!" He has to scream "Move that bus!" as well.
Ty grates on my nerves, and it's all a bit cheesy at times, but it's sweet too and gives me warm fuzzy feelings. After I watch I usually decide to start some kind of charity that by Monday morning I've forgotten completely about.
After the home makeovers, comes my current favorite guilty pleasure, Desperate Housewives. I love this show. I have to wonder though how a nice street like Wisteria Lane came to house so many psychos and jail birds. Every guy on the show has been to jail. Weird. This seasons' resident psycho is Edie's new husband, Dave. He's a total creep who may or may not be after Mike and Susan or Mike and Katherine or just Mike. I dunno.
Last week's episode (or rather the week before's episode) revolved around the previously unknown handyman Eli Scruggs and the various ways he left his mark on Wisteria Lane. I have to give the writers cred for making me cry over a character I had not seen before. Yay, 100th episode writers.

On Wednesday nights, Don and I watch Top Chef. Normally, I don't do reality shows, but this one is not bad, so I watch it. It's full of lovable and hateable characters, and then there are the contestants. This seasons' lovable/hateable duo comes courtesy of Europe. Fabio is the Italian Stallion who oozes charm and attitude and some cooking talent. He is lovable to me because he takes no guff from the judges, once offering to cook "monkey a** with fried banana" if that's what it took to please them.
Stefan, on the other hand is a complete jerk. He is an awesome chef, but he knows it. He's won a lot of challenges and loves to remind the other chefs of exactly how many. I had to laugh my butt off last Wednesday during the Super Bowl challenge when he picked what he thought would be an easy target, but lost big time. To a girl. Take that, Germany or Austria, or wherever the heck he's from.
Next on Wednesday's lineup for me is Ghost Hunters International because I like to have the crap scared out of me right before I go to bed. A band of "scientific" ghost busters travel around the globe investigating supposed haunted houses, castles, museums, etc. It's mostly filmed with night vision cameras which gives everybody that kind of creepy pale-eyed look. The crew spends part of an evening in a haunted location using infrared sensors, voice recorders, and other sciencey stuff, and then they look over all the film, video, and recordings for evidence of ghosts. The creepiest things to me are the EVPs. A voice shows up on a recording that doesn't belong to anyone that was present. Spooky.

My favoritiest favorite show is currently on hiatus. Well, for us here in the States anyway. The Brits already got their Christmas special, which thanks to the miracle of YouTube, I was able to watch too. Neener neener, Brits.
I'm speaking of Doctor Who. The greatest show. Ever. It's all about a time and space traveling guy named the Doctor. Just the Doctor. The Doctor is currently played by the impossibly hot David Tennant. Alas, dear Dave will be leaving when the show officially returns in 2010. *tear* Young whippersnapper Matt Smith will be taking over the role, and I have to say, I think he'll do fine. Please don't kill me, fan girls! Anyway, I can't wait for season 5 and more wibbly-wobbly-timey-whimey adventures with the Doc. I need some more fanfic material.

That's about it for my TV viewing, besides the brief snatches of Dora the Explorer and Miss Spider's Sunny Patch Friends I see as I pass through the living room during the day. Occasionally, I'll watch some kind of documentary on the Discovery or History channel because I'm a documentary nerd. I watched a cool one about Air Force One the other night. If the Mythbusters are blowing up something interesting, I'll watch that too. I don't think they'll ever top the cement truck though. That was like Blink in terms of awesomeness. That's a Doctor Who reference by the way.

"Don't blink."

I'm Just a Loaf

Lately I've been reading about God doing a lot with a little. My Bible study passage for today dealt with Jesus feeding the multitude with a few fish and a couple of loaves of bread. He took this small, seemingly insignificant lunch and turned it into a feast for thousands of people. Timothy read a similar story last night from his reading book. This one was about the widow with the handful of meal and cruse of oil. When she was obedient to God, her meal and oil didn't run out.
I find it interesting that God didn't necessarily make more loaves and fish or meal and oil. He didn't poof more bread and fish in front of the crowd. He didn't miraculously fill the widow's pantry with food either. He used the little that was there and got a lot from it.
I can relate this to myself. I am not very much. I don't have very much in talent, ability, or wealth. However, I know God can take what I am and what I have and do a lot with it if I will only let Him. He won't necessarily give me more, but He'll stretch what He's already given me to do great things.

Out of Africa

There used to be a zebra in a field close to where I grew up. I don't know why, but the people who owned the land had somehow purchased a zebra and they kept it out in their pasture. They didn't have any other animals in the pasture. Just the zebra.
I used to pass by that field everyday on the school bus, and while everyone else thought seeing a zebra in a pasture in Alabama was funny, it made me a bit sad. It was all alone, and it was out of place. I guess I kind of related to that poor zebra. I was lonely in my youth, and I often felt as if I were completely out of place. As if I were born to be somewhere else, something else.
I still find myself struggling to define, well, myself. What is it that I do? What is my purpose? I'm no longer alone, but I still feel a bit out of place at times. I am very happy with my life, but I still feel as if I'm not living up to my full potential. I've always been terrified of failure, and I sometimes wonder if that fear has dictated some of my choices. In college I chose to study music because music was my "thing." It was easy for me. I know I would never really be brain surgeon material, but what could I do if I stepped away from what was easy and took a chance? What if I dared to risk failing? I've done it before.
I took a huge chance when it came to finding love. I risked heartbreak and rejection in my pursuit of the man who is now my wonderful husband. He could have said no. He didn't, and the feeling of triumph was unbelievable. My risk paid off. I think a risk like that is almost always worth it. Even if you fail, at least you've learned something.

I have been a bit slack in keeping up this blog. However, I intend to change that. I plan on posting at least a couple of times a week with commentary on local happenings, television and entertainment, as well as just my everyday goings-on. So, keep checking back here for my latest ramblings!