But with the economy being the way it is I have no money anyways. Birthday cards are very expensive right now. The gym is always right up the road. But mostly because being the person that I want to be is always an ongoing process that no amount of resolutions will ever change that. So with all that in mind I think i’ll follow my father’s advice and just keep on keeping on.

1. My bosses’ wife, Kim, makes the best pumpkin bread ever and we all get some every year at thanksgiving.

2. Suey’s laugh behind me at work

3. Walks with Nanny to get coffee

4. When my earrings match my rings perfectly

5. 3 o’clock coffee

6. The way the sun hits my windows in the morning

7. The sight of a kitty cat sleeping in the sun

8. When my sister sends videos of the worlds most perfect nieces.

9. emails that go back and forth between my mother, sister, dad, bil, and I.

10. When my friend Deb sends me “good morning, love you” texts.

11. sparring with B

12. kisses on the lips

13. when my sunday school class “gets” it.

14. getting over addictions (aka, Twilight, BBC Robin Hood, Alias)

15. the first night in clean sheets

16. good smelling lotion

17. texting

18. one good customer who appreciates me

19. the fact that pammy knows a song for everything

20. tuba tuesdays

21. when alan closes his eyes at worship on sundays

22. when the laundry is done

23. one tree hill

24. that no matter how old I get, or how early I have to be up the next day I will still stay up to finish a good book

25. catfish

26. southern accents

27. how well I know my friend sam.

28. that this list could just keep going but i’ll stop now.

Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Well…by snow I mean that it flurried a little bit on the way to work this morning. No matter, I’m still counting it as the first snow of the year.

Down in Arkansas people are still wearing short sleeves and I’m positive that my mother is still wearing flip flops. My mother makes wearing flip flops an art form. One time I took her to the Christmas Tree Shop and she came away with, no kidding, two bags full of flip flops.  We walked in and there was two huge metal bins full of various kinds of flip flops. She dove in, head first, legs flailing about. Every summer since then when asked if she would like to go to the Christmas Tree Shop to shop she replies “Unless they have flip flops I’m not interested.”

Noooo…I hadn’t heard about the guy who tried to sue god.

Ps. It’s true. There was a guy who tried to Sue God.

Seriously? Really? There is a human being in possession of an assumed brain who sued The Omnipotent Deity of the Universe? Who has that kind of time? I mean I can’t even find the time to make my lunch in the morning…who has time to put together a case against the Almighty? I’ll tell you what kind of idiot, an ELECTED official!

State Senator Ernie Chambers from Nebraska says the Almighty is responsible for “widespread death, destruction and terrorization.” In the lawsuit he accused the defandant (AKA GOD) of causing untold death and horror and threatening to cause more still. In protest against a previous lawsuit he says he started this lawsuit to make a point that anybody can file a lawsuit against anybody.

So let me get this straight. Stop me if I get this wrong. There is a war still going on. People are dying everyday. The stock markets crashes at least twice a week. England just declared a recession. Companies are shutting down. People are out of work. It still costs over $30 to fill up my gas tank. As of this moment Gloris Leachman is still on “Dancing with the Stars”. I can’t find my favorite pair of silver hoops and mullets are still an acceptable haircut in many areas of the country. And YOU MR. CHAMBERS are trying to prove a point about frivilous lawsuits by suing God?? Can’t we just say that? Here watch…

Dear World,

Anyone can sue anybody for anything.

Love,

Esther

See how easy was that? I didn’t waste taxpayers money, or dispute the trust they put in me by electing me to office, no one wasted any time. Most of all, I didn’t insult the one true God. Mr Chambers…I suggest that instead of proving your point you succeeded in proving that you are in fact wasting our time. I’m all for proving a point but come on…and I wish I was a Judge because I would have literally thrown the book at you. Literally.

By the by, the court threw out the lawsuit because the Defendant didn’t have an official address and therefore legal papers could not be served.

Unbelievable. I’m actually out of words. Which is equally unbelievable. Except to say that Thank GOD I don’t live in Nebraska. I can’t wait for the movie to come out.

It’s all so ridiculous…let’s face it here folks…whomever wins this blood bath of an election is going to suck on some level. No one will be perfect…why can’t we just all get along. That’s not a question. Why must we go through this agony and strife every four years? Why must the media turn into hounds…why must the debates (both professional and unprofessional) be bloodbaths? WHY…I ask you…WHY does all this have to interfere with my TV viewing and more importantly MY LIFE???? EVEN MORE IMPORTANTLY, why must people on facebook use their statuses as a statement for political screaming?

Guess what people? I don’t go on facebook to see what your political thought is for the day. Shocking I know…but there it is. In fact, your status that is designed to make people think about politics inspires me to run as far as I can from anything political. It’s annoying and quite frankly low class. Because the truth is that you don’t want “change” or “freedom”…you just want everyone to agree with you. And you are using things like your facebook status to belittle ideals that differ from yours. You are no different than the blood sucking media. Low Class. And annoying.

What we all should be watching is the ALCS. Now that is TV I can get behind. Watch the glory of the Red Sox as we continue on our path to keep the greatness alive. See Varitek mow down an Angel like a linebacker. See Pedoria break his slump with a double just when we need one. Or Big Papi clear the bases like no one else can. See Youklis play every and any base we need him to and a little kid named Lester perform like an ace before he hits his mid-twenties. Heck he IS the ace. See Pap give the glare and the stare before he closes the game in the blink of an eye.

You want change? Watch the scoreboard as a rookie wins the game. You want to feel the pulse of American Glory and love running through your veins… turn on the friggin’ game and shut up about the election. GO SOX!

Whew…well…I feel better. That has been building for awhile.

1. No more televised debates that interfere with the general populace’s TV viewing pleasure. I’m thinking we have them at 10pm and if you are dumb enough to stay up to watch them then more power to you.
2. “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman will be my theme song.
3. The MLB Playoffs will start at 6pm wherever they are played.
4. More Taco Bells! More Taco Bells! More Taco Bells!
5. In addition, fake cheese will be served as an acceptable side to any gourmet dish
6. Speaking of elections everyone will have exactly 3 months to present why they should be elected…I will only need 30 minutes.
7. Chocolate will be declared good for you.
8. I have a crime bill for you…it involves me telling you what a dummy you are and pain. Problem solved.
9. Murder She Wrote reruns will be required viewing in the public schools…and maybe the private ones also.
10. There will be no fighting over education support. OF course we should support education funding…what a stupid stupid thing to fight about.
11. Being fashionably late will also apply to your work (I’ve been trying to implement this at The Enterprise but my boss is being stubborn).

This may sound sort of extreme to some of you, but I’ve worked hard to cultivate this powerful image and I’m not giving it up anytime soon. Really I do it for everyone’s own good…I’m saving them from my temper in the morning. The temper that occurs when caffeine is not flowing thru my veins is not a pretty beast and its best if i keep it to myself.

So you can image the shock to my system when our favorite radio station started playing very loud, very cranky, music in the morning. Now I don’t care who you are or what you are like in the morning that is just not okay! I don’t know what happened at the station to make it okay to play loud music before the caffeine hour but it’s just un-American. No one’s mind should have to comprehend Funky Cole Medina before ten am. One morning they actually started playing Guns N Roses. I love Axle…genius really…thinkin about being him for Halloween…but I don’t ever want to hear him before the first cuppa.

So…we changed it.

I know that this is shocking to many of you. I, myself abhor change, and at work it is simply unheard of. We are not big on change. We drink out of the same coffee cups everyday, eat at the same time everyday, and some of us eat the same things for breakfast every single day. Needless to say we don’t like change. So for us changing our radio station was a big deal.

So Cathi put on some Harry Connick Jr. But then Suey kept walking past it and saying things like “This music is so slow!” and “Could this guy sing any slower?” Eventually we got the hint. Suey can be so subtle when she wants to really. So then we changed it to some other kind of Jazz. But eventually the CD ran out…and then it was just quiet.

So guess what we did next? We turned the radio back on.

Turns out what we like about the radio is that everything is different all the time and it never runs out. And no one sings slowly. See told you change was bad. Of course I still refuse to listen to “Wild Thang” before 10am. It’s just low class.

It’s a wonderful restaurant in the middle of a field/ farm, off a dirt road that serves…you guessed it, Catfish and BBQ. It was wonderful food. The catfish was among the best I’ve ever had. They have homemade desserts, one involving ice cream sandwiches which I talked my mother into splitting with me. The sweet tea…I can’t even talk about it without tearing up. It was divine. Make no mistake people, sweet tea will be in heaven.

(Along with fine point Sharpies, corn nuts, and the full series of Murder She Wrote).

When we arrived to this Mecca, my father got out of the car, spread his arms wide and said “How can you not want to move back here?” And at that moment it was hard to think of a reason why not.

I also got to see the worlds most perfect nieces. I swear, the Gods were shining the day my nieces were born. They are so completely perfect in every way, it’s blinding. I actually find myself at a loss for words to describe them.

When Abby saw me she said “Auntie Esther!”, ran into my arms. Maggie just sort of whispered my name, then ran. It was quite a moment, my heart was beyond it’s capacity. I don’t think I put them down the rest of the time I was there. Except to sew for their bedroom. My sister is under the illusion that I am a chinese sweatshop. No matter…it was all worth it when I told Abby that I was sewing her a pillow with Pink Ribbon on it. Her face lit up and she smiled…and ran off to tell her mother. My favorite moment was when my sister was laying down with them on Sunday afternoon. I peeked in on them and Abby was sound asleep, but Maggie was still stirring. Then she turned over and put her hand on my sister’s cheek and smiled. She just kept her hand there for awhile, resting on her mother’s cheek till she feel asleep.

And I was reminded once again that love is not just a feeling but a physical act. I’m not talking about just taking the trash out, or cooking dinner, or buying a gift. I mean sometimes I find myself looking at, or talking to someone that I truly love and I just have to touch them. Not in a gross,weird way or anything. But sometimes the feeling seems to big for just my heart and it travels to my hand and like Maggie, I have to reach out put my hand on a cheek. Or hold a hand, or just smooth my cousins hair. I suppose when it comes down to it, as big as our hearts are sometimes they just aren’t big enough. I love that feeling. My heart swells and somehow all the other boring, endless moments seem to not matter. Cause all that really matters is this moment, and in this moment, I love you. The rest we will work out later.

For example…taking an entire piece of catfish and stuffing it in my mouth, then moaning and tearing up with the beauty that is southern cuisine….NOW that…ladies and gentleman…is TRUE love.

It’s not just a little crush. It’s a full blown love affair. I don’t just love a few of the sports, I love them all. Ping pong, volleyball, cycling, marathon, track, swimming, trampoline, rowing, gymnastics…if it’s on the olympics then I will watch it.

This love affair has been going on as long as I can remember. Even as a child, we all watched them in my family. Still do. In fact the other day when I phoned my mother and asked her if she was watching the Olympics she said in a sort of “you stupid girl” tone, “Well of course!”. I still get chills when I remember Kerri Strug nailing that one-legged landing off the vault. The Visa commerical featuring it brings me to tears everytime. Many girls probably dreamed of their wedding, or the last teen idol. I dreamed that I was getting a gold medal.

Mind you…I’m not exactly what you would call the sporty type. Unless you count cooking as a sport. Or being obsessed with the BBC version of Robin Hood. Or reading all of Stephanie Meyers’ books in less than a week…repeatedly (I got a little obsessed after “Breaking Dawn” came out), I am over the bad times now and concentrating my full attentions to making sure that I don’t miss a moment of the 2008 Olympics. Our DVR has filled up twice. I have screamed for Michael Phelps till my voice was hoarse. I got chills when Tomescu from Romania entered the stadium after running the marathon for over 2 hours, wanted Coventry to win so Zimbawbe would be united as one, and finally I haven’t gotten to bed earlier than midnight since they began.

Sure I want the US to win…of course…but a true Olympian fan is a lover of the entire sports event. We who are true to the games want the best Athlete to win. We don’t like all the strife over 14 year olds competing, or press conferences when someone withdraws from the race because of an injury. We want to see the stories of perserverance, the tears of hard work, and the roar of a good landing.

My problem is YOU PEOPLE who when I ask “do you watch the olympics” your response is “just the swimming…”. My neighbor and my formerly best friend, B, actually had the audacity to suggest to me the other day that the best olympic sport ever was sychronized diving.

pause

silence

that was the sound of my shock when she made this perfectly outrageous statement. i know me too…

I want to make sure what I am saying next is perfectly clear to all who read this blog. ALL the olympic sports are the best. If your attitude is anything less than that then you should not be allowed to watch the olympics. You should be spending your time watching low class reality tv, and cheering for the New York Yankees. You may think this is harsh, but I’m just speaking the facts as they are recorded in our Constitution.

That being said, I just don’t think there is any way that girl is 16 years old. And when Johnathan Horton did that high bar routine last night…I put my hands up in the air and screamed “YES!”" to an empty room. Dara Torres is my new hero, and I can’ t even talk about Shawna Johnson without tearing up that she finally got gold. Ps…Natisia was totally robbed on the uneven bars.

Also I’m friending Michael Phelps on Facebook. And that Lochte guy…yummy. I would like him for my birthday please. Thank you.

 GO WORLD!!!! 

Going over the bridge is something that one really has to think about here. It takes careful planning, prayer, maybe a lit candle or two. When I lived in Arkansas we would go to Memphis for dinner. That was an hour and half away. On Cape Cod if we go to the high school (which is 15 minutes away) we have to pack a lunch. I used to not understand this mentality. But then one Saturday I went to visit my cousin at college. He goes to Gordon College, which is only 3 hours away at best. Though out the day I realized that not only had I packed a backpack instead of a purse, but I had included everything that one could possibly or not possibly need to be away from home. I don’t think I brought another pair of underwear…you know…just in case, but my point remains. I realized that I was now apart of the “going over the bridge” mentality.

So this weekend I stepped out of my comfort zone and went “over the bridge” to loverly Amherst, in lovely western Mass, and basked in organic foods, long skirts and Mercantile Clothing stores. My Aunt and Uncle renovated a beautiful historical home downtown Amherst and visiting with them is like taking a long relaxing nap in the middle of the afternoon, with a cuddly kitty, and a baseball game on in the background. There is no schedule, no responsibilities, just fresh tomatoes, homemade cheese, and no TV!

We spent the day on Saturday traveling around the area, taking in the scenery, and visiting farms that charge way to much to pick your own berries. Needless to say we did not pick our own berries but I did see a Goat’s penis…something that was quite an event. The conversation went like this:

EB- “Hey Mary? What’s that thing sticking outta the goat?”
AUNT- “uhh…I think that’s its penis”
EB- “Oh…huh..I’ve never seen one of those before. HEY! Where did it go? Bring it back!”
Mary falls over a stump and we both laugh.

Life on the farm…as they say. We spent the evening in North Hampton, eating and shopping. It was early evening so the street musicians were setting up for the dinner crowd. There was one young man; he looked to be in his twenties, who was setting up a steel drum. I couldn’t stop starting at him. He looked different than the other musicians…he looked…completely normal. He was plainly dressed, he was clean, and there was nothing that was particularly loud about him. He was handsome, and gorgeous in the way that musicians are but mostly it was his passion that held me. He was putting together his steel drum like it was his lover. Very gently and softly, I swear I heard him sigh as he tested it. I stood there for a minute, sort of struck by this man, wondering if anyone else saw this beautiful thing? To me, it was the loudest moment on the sidewalk.

I was a little embarrassed about my immediate craving to watch the steel drum player; after all it’s not as if I know him, so I didn’t mention it to my Aunt and Cousin at all. We kept shuffling along into another store that smelled of Bali and had more Jesus bobble-heads but when we left the store a little bit later, the sidewalk was alive with the sound of the steel drum. I could ignore the man no longer. I told my little cousin, K, that we needed to give that man some money. So we pulled out some change and she went to drop it into his case. I stood nearby intently mesmerized by the idea that he might look up and I would never forget it.  K crept forward and gingerly dropped the change and walked away quickly. I stayed and just stared. He didn’t look up right away as he was locked into his music for the moment. But after a second He did look up, first at K, then at me. He must have seen the appreciation in my eyes and we locked eyes. Then he broke out in a gorgeous smile that I felt right down to my toes. It was the smile that did it. It was as passionate as his intense gaze for the drum. It was the smile of someone who loved what they did and that was enough. I could not look away.

I did eventually, resisting the urge to go up and talk to him. I don’t know why…maybe the moment was enough to sustain me. Enough for a blog anyway.

I love this about human beings. We may be faulty and whiny. We may make tons of mistakes and fight over nothing but by God we have passion. I love that some people do what they do, on the sidewalk just because they like to do it. I should do what I love to do…talk. I’m gonna go sit on the sidewalk and just start talking to people. I’ll probably be arrested for being crazy. Ah well…. The crazies have passion also right?

Later that night I saw a T-shirt in a coffee shop that said, “What would Jesus Brew?”. Hysterical.

Sooo…. To sum up my weekend: wore long flowy skirts, saw a goat penis which inspired me to sing the song “you’ll shoot your eye out”, fell in love with a steel drum player, and laughed at a T-shirt that is borderline sacrilegious.

See what happens when one goes “over the bridge”?????