10 Things I Learned on My Summer Concert Tour

This past weekend I embarked on my summer concert tour, aka...I went to two concerts in two days, and felt like I learned a few things along the way. Here we go:
10. 2 awesome shows in a 24 hour span kicks my tail. I do not bounce back like I used too.
9. Last weekend was about as Rock Star as I get. Sadly, I am okay with that.
8. The restrooms at the DI Tennis Center feel like saunas in June. Port-o-potties are the way to go. I'd rather feel creeped out than have my make-up sliding down my face before the show even starts.
7. Concert vendors sell gianormous beers but teeny, tiny bottles of water. It's June, it's 90 degrees, we're in the sun. Please do not sell me Polly Pocket size Aquafinas or it's gonna get ugly.
6. Rock reaches all ages and seems to be a universal language for all demographics which makes for amazing people watching.
5. The light show at a Daughtry concert can cause you to go into a seizure. True story. Not mine but a pretty blonde lady's.
4. Zac Brown makes me happy and the lead singer of Lifehouse makes me swoon. Both men= worth every penny.
3. I heart concerts.
2. Who knew the dramatic dropping of a huge white sheet could make me jump up and down like a little kid? That 1.5 minutes as the show started was like Christmas morning on crack.
1. Don't let the bow on my dress fool you. I can rock out with the best of em!

What Love looks Like

• An exhausted new mom who's first child has health issues that would wear out even the most veteran of mothers and turn them into an emotional and physical wreck, yet she stays strong, never complains, and works day and night to care for her precious gift.
• Someone I see once every two years requesting my support letter for Nicaragua when I assumed I couldn't ask them to donate a 3rd year in a row. That email melted my heart and showed me that even my supporters have grown fond of serving the people of Managua.
• Friends listening with tears rolling down their face as another friend describes the loss of a loved one recently. When no one cries alone in a room or on the beach, you know love is there.
• A group of women taking the time to write get well cards to people they've never met just to let them know someone is praying for them. Miles away.
• A work-a-holic setting his work schedule aside to board a plane to Haiti this weekend to lend his hands and heart and hopefully help in the rebuilding process. I am guessing both parties will be "rebuilt".
• Someone paying for the tux of a special needs child they've never met before so he can go to "Prom" and have a night to remember as every teenager should.
• That same teenager purchasing a jewelry box and card letting the woman who covered his Prom expenses know that she made a lasting difference.

What does love look like to you?

Can My Civic be a Swaggin Wagon Please?

These folks kinda make me want to be a mom and drive a mini-van! The kiddos dancing are the best! Enjoy...

My Mother's Day If Pigs Could Fly...

...or at least if they could talk and drive, I know my favorite little Piggy would have driven to Target this weekend to pick out the sweetest card and mom's favorite treats: nerd ropes, peanut butter m&m's, and a fountain coke. Then, based on his sweet nature, I'm guessing he'd go to the store for momma's favorite flowers, Gerber Daisies. He probably would've gotten up super early, gone out to the kitchen and made my favorite vanilla and cinnamon french toast, bacon, and coffee. And then he'd probably ask me if I wanted to be cuddled, loved on, had my belly scratched, while we watched a Lifetime movie or two on the couch.

To save him the trip to store and the hassle, I made his favorite breakfast, which also happens to be his favorite dinner, made my own coffee and grabbed a day old Krispy Kreme. We then had a cuddle fest on the couch, while I loved on him and scratched his belly until it was time to go to church. For a brief moment he looked up at me with his sweet puppy eyes and I knew that without words he was saying "Momma, I'd do all of those things for you if I could." And with that one look, I had the best doggie Mother's Day ever. I love that lil man!

The Same

I am tired of putting on the same ole outfits, of getting into the same ole car that has chosen not to unlock anymore and then climbing through the same ole trunk when I forget the above mentioned locks don't work. I'm tired of looking the same when I try to vary my make-up pallet, and am definitely tired of the same ole frizzy, southern weather hatin hair. I'm tired of not feeling very creative when I want to be and am tired of cooking the same ole meals due to lack of time or energy. I'm tired of looking at my same ole windows in my bedroom that are desperately seeking curtains that I cannot seem to commit too.

However.

I'm loving the same ole beach that I've been blessed enough to live near for the last 13 years. I'm loving that my same ole friends from 6 and 7 years ago are still my friends regardless of ups and downs, boy drama, and distance. I'm loving that a margarita here can instantly make me appreciate the same ole sun, summer, and citrus as I do while traveling. I'm loving that the same ole calls home to chat with my folks can make me just as happy as they did when I first left home in 1997. I'm excited that the same ole sport that I gave much of my life too for 13 years is starting to creep back into the void it left when I hung up my skates. I'm loving that although my car doesn't unlock, I can still get in the same ole thing with the windows down, the music up, and somehow forget how ghetto it's become over the years. I'm loving that this same ole blog still gives me a creative outlet when nothing else seems too.

I'm Not So Bad After All!

So my boyfriend's roommate is obsessed with Crossfit. I should verify that his obsession is one of healthy nature and not crazy "I must crossfit or die" nature, but obsessed nonetheless. He's 110% drinking the Kool-aid and lovin it! I, on the other hand, am a former athlete and a PE major who couldn't care less about working out. I wish I loved it and craved it like he does, but it just doesn't work like that for me. In order for me to run it has to be raining while i'm leaving a dry building or there must be free baked goods in the breakroom of my office. Even at that point I'll usually weigh the pros and cons and gauge how hard it's actually raining before I commit to the jog. It's sad. I'm not proud. But I am honest.

Ok, back to CF. So my boyfriend's roomie hosted a crossfit crew pool party. YIKES! In a bathing suit, surrounded by hard core, Paleo dieting bodies was the last place I wanted to be. So what did I do? I skipped out and went to eat french toast and get my toes done instead. So yummy and way better for my self-esteem. After delaying the inevitable I decided to head to the pool party, although in a maxi dress and not a swimming suit, to be social and support his new "club" if you will. I was all ready to either stay in my dress or sport a full body wet suit due to the "pool water not being summer ready" yet, when it hit me. Most of these "fitters" didn't look any different than I did. Some even had (wait for it, wait for it) beer bellies. YES! I am not so bad after all! Don't get me wrong, some of the guys looked like UFC fighters and a few looked like IOP lifeguards but almost all of the girls looked like me and they work out almost every day and eat nuts and berries and junk. Kool-aid? No thank you. A hot dog off the grill? Yes please. Got any chili?

Moment of Schizophrenia

What in the world?" "Seriously?" "Gross!" "Disgusting!" Ewww, don't touch that..."

Now say all of those words/statements 5 times fast while spinning in a circle and that my friends is what the kiddy land of the Cajun Festival at James Island County Park felt like. Parental Schizophrenia…no thanks!

After perusing the food area of the event, my boyfriend and I decided to wander into the back corner of the vevnue that housed carnival rides and children’s games to people watch for a bit. Wow. It only took 2 seconds to realize why this area was set WAY far away from every other component of the festivities. That place was like walking into Jamie Fox’s head during the movie The Soloist.

Take 150 kids, put them in one area with spinning rides after they’ve just chugged a coke, eaten cotton candy, etc… As Rob and I stood in the “safe” spot we found between the giant slide and the blow-up obstacle course, I watched in amazement. Grown adults chased their kids around like they were trying to catch the greased pig at a county fair. Kids bobbed and weaved in every direction. Take one small step and you just might crush someone or better yet, have one of them slam into your legs with sticky, cotton candy faces and muddy hands. From every direction came parental chatter, commands, defeat, and sometimes surrender. “Say excuse me, Tommy. SAY EXCUSE ME!!!” was heard non-stop as kids pushed their way from ride to ride. My final straw was watching little brown shirt dude repeatedly shove his finger in his nose (the rest I will leave up to the imagination) while his mom protested loudly over and over again. Finally she gave up and I started dry heaving. I couldn't do it anymore. Too. Much. Comotion. And way too many boogers in a small area. Once the gagging began we decided to head back to the promise land where music, fried food, and shirtless Cajuns calmed my nerves.

Don’t get me wrong, I love kids. Love 'em! I still love to babysit at 31 years old. But 150 muddy children pushing, shoving, and picking at one time and in every direction. There’s just not enough Xanax for that. To all my parent-friends out there…You rock. You’re seriously my heroes. And I raise my glass to you from about 100 yards away from the kiddy land next time!

Waiting...

Moments after news broke of the earthquake in Haiti I knew I wanted to go and serve. It was neat to see my awesome friend, Amy, felt the exact same and text me to and say "when they send teams from Seacoast to Haiti, want to go?" It was on our hearts, as it was for so many, but we knew that we had to be patient. This past Saturday our Missions Pastor alerted via Facebook that they'd be announcing 4 trips to Haiti at Sunday's service. One status update completely made my heart race. Was it time? Am I ready???

Last night as I sat in a room of 60+ people from my church who signed up to go with a moment's notice, I couldn't help but fight back tears. There are only 40 spots right now, as teams must stay at 10 people each due to travel logistics, so if you do the math there will be a good chunk of us who will not go. YET. Regardless of whether or not I "make the cut" this go round, I was privileged to sit in a room surrounded by people who embody my favorite verse "Here am I. Send me." Isiah 6:8. We may not have thousands of dollars to send over there but what we do have is time to give and hands to lend. Not only do these people care about the well being of people they've never met and will most likely never see again, but they are willing to put their lives on hold with literally a month to prepare, distance themselves from every comfort they have and loved one they have to serve strangers. Very cool and very inspiring.


As I wait to find out this weekend whether or not it's my time to go, I'm trying to really wrap my brain around what it'll mean, what it'll entail, and what exactly I will see. Not praying about this is not an option. Actually it's the only option I have right now. Here am I. Will you send me?


Until then...here's a little info about the area where the medical team might be stationed accordingly to the team leader (again, insert many, many prayers here):

Cité Soleil (Kreyol: Site Solèy, English: Sun City) is a very densely populated commune located in the Port-au-Prince metropolitan area in Haiti. It has development as a shanty town. Most of its estimated 200,000 to 300,000 residents live in extreme poverty.[1] The area is generally regarded as one of the poorest and most dangerous areas of the Western Hemisphere's poorest country; it is one of the biggest slums in the Northern Hemisphere. There is little police presence, no sewers, no stores, and little to no electricity. *the picture at the top is a survivor of this city.

The Fanny Pack

So last week I had to run to the campus gift shop to purchase gifts for our presenters at a conference we were hosting. Apparently with it being Corps Day weekend, every shopper received a free fanny pack. Oh. Wow. Really? You shouldn't have.

As I left (sans free fanny pack) the lady by the door wanted to make sure that I had in fact received my free gift of said fanny pack. I had not and was 110% fine without my gift. Regardless of my gratefulness and "please give mine to someone who is visiting and not an employee" attitude, she was dead set on my leaving with a Citadel blue fanny pack. Now what on earth am I going to do with a fanny pack?? Especially one that says Citadel Bulldogs? Duh. I'm going to rock that thing!

Today seemed like a great day to sport it around the office to pick my spirits up, so rock it I did. Sort of. I noticed that there was no clasp in the back for easy access and there was definitely no adjustable strap either. Did they expect this to be one size fits all AND do they expect the wearers to step into and out of it every time they wanted to wear it? Hello, awkward. No wonder this thing was free! Someone must have gotten a sweet deal on these defunct things.

After shimmying the fanny pack up my legs and over my hips, I was now ready to wear my Bulldog gear with pride. Or at least I was until my coworker nonchalantly asked if I was wearing a lunch bag around my waist. "What? How stupid would that be" I thought to myself until everything I had just done to get the lame thing on flashed through my head. OMG, I am wearing a non-adjustable lunch bag around my waist. How did this happen?

Thanks Citadel gift shop for my new and way more cooler than a fanny pack lunch tote. I will, in fact, rock this tote sandwich and all. Although I might just slide it over my shoulder next time and not my hips.

Too Quiet, Too Busy

It's been WAY too long since I spent some time on this blog. So, here I am and I'm bringing the polka dots back with me.

The past month has flown by and I'm not even sure where it went. Actually, that's a total lie. I know exactly where it went and it went with good cause, but it still went flying on by. With only 8 days left until the 2010 Cinderella Day, I'm finally feeling like I can come up for air and take a non-event, creative break. Praise the Lord for the way He sets things up and allows them to fall into place.

That being said, that's about all the creativity I have in me today. Just wanted to say hey and try to get back in the swing of things in blog world. Chat with you soon!