envy

am blogging soundtrack: Green Day
am blogging sustenance: Green Tea

For some reason I woke up this morning (after some pretty whacked-out dreams) wondering how today was going to ultimately compare to July 31 of last year. It's not as if today's date holds any particular importance. It's not my birthday. Not any kind of special anniversary that I'm aware of. Just another day in a long line of days. I don't even have any concrete plans for the next 24 hours. Nada. But because I have no way of predicting how 7/31/08 might turn out in the long run, I decided to look back a year and see what I was up against. Luckily, I am a fiendish document-er (in both my personal and professional lives) and had a plethora of sources from which to gleam a picture of amy:one year ago today. This is what I put together . . .

Exactly 1 year ago today I was sitting on a beautiful beach in Florida with the fam. Through blog accounts, an abundance of photos, and some actual honest-to-goodness (although likely margarita-influenced) memories I've concluded that it was a very good day in the life. Through the use of the same photos and also a sort of health journal I was keeping at the time I've come to the additional conclusion that I was a much more svelte version of the current me. I further recall being pretty darn excited about a new boy that I'd left back in Dallas. And, if memory serves, during that week somebody made me coffee each morning and tasty drinks every night. Not bad, not bad at all.

At first glance 2008 seemed to be in trouble.

This morning I had to make do with tea, that I fixed myself, because I forgot to buy coffee when grocery shopping yesterday. It's hot and steamy outside, with no ocean breeze for relief. And I'm gonna have to force myself to go out there for a work-out thanks to these extra pounds I've got hanging around. As far as I know, no one is planning on plying me with any tequila later this evening. And no new-boy giddiness. For quite some time, actually.

But, here's the thing. Last night I slept in my own bed, instead of the bottom bunk in the kids room of our beach house. And those pounds? They were hard earned. I went all the way to Ireland to drink way to much Guinness. All the way to Paris for those croissants and that daily overindulgence in goat cheese. And it was hard, hard work putting away that many margaritas in Mexico. Not to mention all the home cooked Mom meals I've had to deal with. Like I said, hard earned. Plus, last summer's Dallas boy? He didn't really turn out to be all that exciting. And let's not forget that in 6 days I do not, repeat: DO NOT, have to go back to work in the big M. There's more, too. I didn't gain a single ounce on my last travel adventure despite spending a significant amount of time at various dinner tables. I've got the makings of a great spinach salad in my kitchen. I've got a stack of books to read with no one to distract me from reading them. And it's still early yet.

So, while 7/31/07 was one hell of a good day, I think I'll take a risk and put my money on today.

sleeping in

There is little that makes me happier than waking up in my island of a bed with sunlight streaming through the windows and being able to turn over and cuddle my way back to sleep. Unless it's the same scenario sans bright sunshine with the patter of raindrops as a background lullaby. Sleeping in has to be one of the world's greatest pleasures. It used to be something looked forward to each and every Saturday as I was growing up. No school or church service to get ready for. No pressing need to get started with my day. Eventually, weekends were no longer sacred. Work - and life - butted in. Even "free" days had to begin early in order to cram in the ubiquitous to do list. But whenever I happened to be blessed with such a morning, it was cherished and savored to the extent of it's worth. I had wondered, when faced with months of time to do only exactly as I pleased, if that feeling of satisfaction would be diminished. The answer: not one little bit.

happy thoughts

When I was a little girl I used to have horrible nightmares. Blood-curdling-scream-inducing nightmares. I don't remember the screams so much and I definitely don't recall what kind of terrible things my childhood mind came up with to warrant them. But of course stories were told about my middle of the night adventures and those descriptions have stuck with me into adulthood. What I do remember very distinctly is my dad sitting on my bed next to me trying valiantly to chase my demons away. Just think of something happy, he'd say. We'd sit there whispering about Fourth of July parties and happy faces, trying not to wake up my sister on the other side of the room. And it always worked. We cleared all the evil away together through the strength of our combined will. A lesson of survival when I was young, later applied without conscious thought to life's obstacles as I grew up. I wonder if he remembers that as clearly as I do.

the accidental hermit

When I got back home to Dallas on Monday night I sat on my couch for a minute thinking, This is it. Time to get on with my life. This thought was prompted by my belief that 2 weeks from that date I would once again be a part of the working world.

I'm not gonna lie and tell y'all that I wasn't just a little scared about the prospect. But more than fear, I felt a readiness. It really was time to just get on with it, ya know? Sometimes I look back on these past 7 (!) months and think - what a ride! And other times I give myself a hard time about how much more I could have done, how much more I could have accomplished.

Well today I find out that all of the above thinking is just a bit moot. Turns out that, because of the tedious administrative/political crap that is required for credentialing, I won't be rejoining the rat race until September. Another whole month of freedom.

For the life of me, I can't decide whether to label it gift or curse.

crazy hot, crazy cool

blogging soundtrack: random music from Last.fm
blogging sustenance: aqua, of the ice cold variety

Well, it has been a weird and sorta wonderful 24 hours here in my apartment fortress. I do recall speaking to both of my sisters yesterday as well as my oldest niece. But those calls could have been easily screened if so desired. And today thus far? Not a single conversation. I've heard my own voice only because I woke up late this morning and felt like singing myself a little song. So I did just that on my way to the bathroom for my abbreviated morning routine - relieving of bladder, brushing of teeth, washing of face. Then I went straight back to my bedroom and my much beloved, much missed island of a bed. I curled up to read and stayed until about 40 minutes ago when I realized that I needed a beverage of some kind. Then, of course, I was distracted by the beauty of my laptop and a likely fleeting desire for a connection to the outside world.

I've been on a kick lately of looking up words in the dictionary. Some unfamiliar, new. Some can nearly be described as everyday. Dictionary.com (try it, love it) defines a fortress as a large fortified place. Perhaps my home doesn't quite meet "large" criteria but to fortify means to make strong, to impart strength or vigor. To strengthen mentally or morally. And that I can see. I'm feeling pretty strong here, pretty darn vigorous. My mental health is definitely benefiting from this self-imposed seclusion. So I think I'll keep it up for a while. Just grab another book, a cup of coffee and keep right on fortifying.

"I've been everywhere, man."

Since I last blogged much has happened.

I drove from to Dallas, TX to Warrensburg, MO all by my lonesome. Never before attempted and quite the accomplishment as those closest to me well know. And it was all done sans cruise control and, even more amazingly, sans speeding ticket.

Shortly after arrival in the big MO, I left for the corn fields of Nebraska. Observed the ceremonial beginning of wedded bliss for an old friend of the family in Lincoln and caught up with a med school buddy doing a fellowship in Omaha. Apparently at some point while I was (obviously) under the influence I made an Internet purchase of Celine Dion concert tickets. I did have a vague recollection of this but had thought it might have just been a really strange (bad?) dream. But, no. I was greeted with a Ticketmaster package (complete with bill) when I finally made it home to Texas. Damn you Nathan . . . :)

Spent a few days relaxing with the fam back in Warrensburg before getting in the car again for a quick visit to the Show Me state capital for some Burrell family time. Short but very, very sweet!

And then to the KC airport for a trek cross country with Gma. Oregon. Washington. A small detour to Idaho. There was lots of coffee (God bless the Northwest!), lots of family (had to take notes to keep all the cousins straight), and lots upon lots of driving. Overall, good times. But realized that while I might be considered a fairly chatty/social person to most in my acquaintance, I think I may be the wallflower (a, comparatively, super quiet wallflower) of the family. My family can talk. I mean they can really, really talk. That's it. That's all I'm saying:)

Once safely back from that trip I did a quick turn around in the Burg and headed back to Texas. This time I wasn't alone. Carrie and the nieces came along for the ride. We stretched it out to two days with a "layover" in OK. Then had a brief stay in Dallas to see the Flower Mound cousins and check out the aquarium (note: Friday mornings in the summer = day camp day at the DWA = definitely NOT the best time for a visit). Back on the road for a weekend spent in College Station to check on Sarah "sickie" Jo. Met up with Mom who has been taking care of her since the tonsillectomy-from-hell 10 days ago. If there was ever any doubt, I am now very pleased with my early loss of tonsils at age 6.

Mom et al headed out of CS early Sunday morning and I followed late yesterday afternoon. Now they are back in MO (drove it all in one day - impressive!) and I am finally back home in Dallas. Last night I slept in my bed and I woke this morning a happy girl.

Over a month on the road. At least 2000 miles on my Jeep. Four different planes. 7 books. Nine states. Two ferry rides. Hundreds of dollars in gas. 217 pictures. 3 time zones. And 1 very tired Amy . . .