Are You There God? It's Me, Dawn

I've moved around a bit, so maybe that's why I don't understand the pull of home.  I understand the whole "home is where the heart is" thing...but not home as a specific place.

I'm thinking about this because of New Orleans.  The government (for once on one accord, all levels are begging people to come back) is telling people that it's okay to come back to the city.  If I were from NO, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't go back.

For those folks who were barely getting by pre-K, they can rebuild their lives in other cities, as many have right here in Houston.  For those who are financially secure, I wonder if they are leery of investing significant funds into a city that may take a decade (or more!) to be fully functional again. 

While I was never a fan of the whole New Orleans experience, I certainly can appreciate the history of the city.  There is a rich merging of cultures there that is unlike anywhere else in the States. 

But is that history held by the city or the people who lived in the city?  And will it be the same post-K?  I also wonder how responsible it is to rebuild a city that was created below sea level.

I certainly don't have the answers, just lots of questions. 

My neighbors have the cutest cat, not this neighbor, but right next to me.  They've got a tabby they've named Nala, like from the Lion King.

Well, Nala always comes to say hi to me when I come home.  Well, yesterday, she came darting into my apartment.

It was the cutest thing ever.  She popped into the kitchen, sniffed around in there until we came for her there.  Ran around the kitchen table about three times.  Then off to the bedroom.  Chased her out of there before she went under the bed.  She sprinted into the bathroom and was clearly unimpressed, because I didn't even have to chase her out of there.  Then we had this showdown where I was blocking the kitchen (man, what was in there that she wanted so badly?) and we stared each other down.  She was all hunched down like she was hunting something.  I was trying to pick up this little puff ball that I'd already failed miserably at grabbing.  All the while I was thinking: how cool is this cat? 

So anyway, now I want a cat. 

I normally am in bed by this time of the night, but we had a game tonight and I've just gotten home. I'm one of those people who needs to relax before going to bed...I can't just walk in the door and hit the sack.

So I normally don't get to see Nanny 911 or Super Nanny or whatever show this is that I'm watching.

These kids are off the chain!! They're kicking their mom, spitting on their dad, and hitting the both of them.

Notice the title of this entry. Yep, beatdown. That's what I would've caught if I'd even thought about doing that stuff.

Can the nanny recommend that the parents beat that tail? I'd bet those little critters would stop all of that nonsense then.

Before you get all huffy, I'm not talking about abusing the children...just a little tap to get their priorities straight. Plus it helps the kids with math!

Spitting + mommy = beatdown

Smiling + happy + mommy = no beatdown

See? Calculus for kids.

You all know that I love football.  But maybe you didn't know that there's some eye candy in those pro football games...and he's not in pads.

Ed Hochuli.

He's an official.  And he's in fabulous shape.  Old hotness is what I call him.

Well, the refs are wearing new uniforms this year.  I think the sleeves are longer...and I'm not happy about it.  I want to see those guns!  Did I mention that Ed is in fantastic shape?  He's trying though.  He's managed to slide that size medium shirt over that extra large body.

I promise I actually love the sport!  It's just that Ed manages to keep my attention while explaining penalties. 

I was just on my way downstairs in my apartment building, just minding my own business and I saw a naked man.

How did that happen? I'm still a little unclear, but I'm going to try to piece things together.

We just had a quick storm. No more than 15 minutes of hard-driving rain. I'm guessing that my neighbor and her boyfriend (?) like watching the rain. I guess that that's why they pulled her futon up to the window. I'm also guessing that since it was relatively early, they had yet to put their clothes back on from whatever they'd been up to...ahem.

Now normally I don't look into other people's windows, but she's got two cute cats that I like to play with when they're out and about. The cats were also in the window. So I got all excited to play with them through the window. And that's when I saw the naked man.

She was there too, but...uh...how do I say this? Gosh...*scratches head*...he was...shoot...uuuhhh...covering her up.

Blast this photographic memory of mine! Sweet Jesus, I can't get that image out of my head! Somebody tell me how to get it out!!

If you're looking for me, I'll be in the corner, knees to chest, rocking and talking to myself.

I'm writing this from a bus on the way back from a volleyball tournament. We got fifth place (thanks for asking!) and a huge trophy that makes me wonder about the size of the first place trophy.

There were thirty two teams in this tournament, so fifth isn't too bad.

I wonder about the last place team though. What do they go back and tell their classmates? Yeah, we played volleyball for two days and we sucked so bad that we were dead last? What does a coach say in that situation? We'll get 'em next time? Uhhh...probably not from the looks of things.

Seriously though, that's a toughie. We played seven matches and only lost one.

That last place team probably lost all of them. I'm pretty sure I'd hand in my clipboard on Monday and tell my boss she should find someone more qualified than myself to coach her team.

You're probably thinking that I should lighten up. "Sports should be fun", you whine. You know what I have to say about that?

Losing isn't fun!

Sometimes I'm just overwhelmed by God's love for me.

Listening to Hillsong United earlier today, I thought about how I really do love God more than life. Those moments when I feel God's presence so strongly that I'm moved to tears are priceless to me.

But sometimes I'm underwhelmed by God. I become like Eve in the garden. Yes, I know this is paradise God, but why can't I have that yummy fruit? Yeah, yeah...I understand that I am crazy blessed, but that's not enough...I want that.

I wonder if I focus too much on what I want or what I believe God has for me in my future. What if He weren't to bless me again...would I still love Him more than life?

What if I don't get married? Will I still bless His name?

What if I don't have any children? Will I still sing His praises?

Do I really love Him more than life if my prayers are more about life than Him?

It's scary to think that I could take God's love and grace and mercy for granted. But I do. So I think I need to take a step back and rediscover God. I never want to get to the point where God being God isn't enough. That sending His Son to die on the cross isn't sufficient. That I still want more.

Right now I'm failing to love Him more than life consistently. I love Him. And I love Him a whole lot. But if I were to look critically and honestly at myself...I put my life before God on way too many occasions.

Remember my iPod died last week?  Well... 

I got my new iPod today!!  I'm so excited...can't you tell by the exclamation points?

It's a nano instead of the mini I had before, so it's superdy duper small.  I've gone all this week without my wonderful iPod and now we're reunited.  And it feels so good. 

The pockets are a lot lighter, but my heart is as well.  

I'm increasing my mileage next week,  so music will be vital.  You see, real runners shun us folks who like to listen to music while we train.  They think we're hacks who don't have the internal motivation to run for the sheer love of the sport.

They're right.

Running this week without music has shown me that I really have more fun when I've got tunes.  There's nothing like putting a playlist on shuffle and getting fired up when a hot song comes on.  I've run twenty miles this week while reading the captions on SportsCenter and listening to the crappy techno music they play at my gym.  

So I'm back on track and definitely a happy camper. 

Uhh...so yeah. It's 8:30 and I'm struggling to stay up. In my defense, I do get up at 4 in the morning to workout...but still. This is bad. Even for me.

Upside: maybe if I tell the people at the movie theater what time I go to bed, they'll mistake me for a senior citizen and give me a discount.

But seriously...I've gotta get to bed. I'll check you jokers out later.

I'm a wuss when it comes to bugs.  Not regular, cute bugs like ladybugs, or industrious bugs like spiders and ants.  But bugs I like to call the Crazy Texas Bug, or CTB.

The main CTB that instantly strikes fear in me is the cockroach.  As you all know, I'm from Michigan and you really only get roaches up there if you're nasty.  But down here, they're common place.  And these CTB's are HUGE.  Like two inches long...and they fly.  They fly! Eeewwww!!!  I go out of my way (literally) to avoid these ginormous roaches whenever I come across one.

There are others, but I don't know their names...I just know to stay away from them.  There are these giant buzzy thingies, and wasps that build nests along the wall from mud (seriously!), and these bugs they call love bugs.  Ummm...they "do it" while flying in the air.  (Beavis:  Ha ha...she said "do it".)

I'm learning to live in this National Geographic they call Texas...but I'd like it a lot better without the CTB's.