Life in the Lone Star State

Wedding Website

2010-02-04T20:16:00.007-06:00

It's been a while since my last blog, so....if you'd like to know what I've been up to, check out our wedding website: www.theknot.com/ourwedding/sarahmyhre&kentmazur

Only a little over 3 months!

Wrongs Righted?

2009-04-09T22:36:00.004-05:00

I am one of those people who embarrasses you in a public place by taking back the cold fries and asking for a new batch, knowing that while the cook is probably spitting in them, as least they'll be hot. And it's not just that it will be hot, but JUSTICE will have been served; a wrong righted.

A week ago I pulled through Chick-fil-a for a quick and somewhat healthy, grilled chicken sandwich on wheat bun. After pulling over to situate before getting back on the road, I opened my sandwich to apply a nice, slathering of mayonnaise, only to find a winged bug creature lying dead, in the fetal position atop my generous slice of tomato. To be fair, it was tiny, I could barely see it and would definitely not known different if I'd gone to town on it instead of adding a condiment. Regardless, this was not acceptable, I was grossed out. Chic-fil-a is as reputable a fast food chain as there exists in this glorious land of capitalism, so I knew that the manager would be more than eager to handle the situation with the usual graveling and gratuity granted by the situation. Such was the case, and I ate, somewhat hesitantly, a bug free grilled chicken sandwich just five minutes later (for the record, in case anyone from Chic-fil-a Corporation is reading this, I know you sometimes do. I was offered a free brownie or soft drink for my trouble, but decided it would defeat the purpose of eating a healthy sandwich to add to it a side of sugar).

Wrong righted, right? Well what about this next scenario. Shell gas station car wash. Yeah, are you reading this Mr. Corporate Shell, oil mogle? We (speaking for the civilized world, because it's happened to all of us) are tired of your cut rate car washes that charge top dollar and leave our cars with the same amount of dirt, but just in different places. I drove through a shell car wash this week and paid $7 for the Silver Wash, so I didn't scrimp, I went for the upgrade with the extra rinse cycle. Well apparently, I forgot to pay extra for them to use SOAP!!! I essentially paid $7 for a spritz and then for those nasty noodle things to push the dirt around a bit, leaving it more obviously dirty than before when the dust was evenly distributed, so it just looked like a grey car instead of a blue one. So while Kent is laughing at how fired up I'm getting over it, I'm pulling back around to the attendant station to demand a refund. The attendant appears to understand me, but it also appears that English is not his native language, so when I'm handed a receipt that appears to be a refund, I walk away satisfied, until I'm on the freeway and I realize that it's a credit, FOR ANOTHER CUT RATE CAR WASH! As if, I would ever go back there again! Kent is going to use it though, he says his truck could use a rinse.

Tonight takes the cake. Early this afternoon, between recruiting visits, I did laundry in the shared laundry facility at my apartment complex. I left my last load in the dryer while I went back to work for a few hours, and when I returned, my clothes were gone. Now, I've seen people take clothes out of the machine and put them on top because a negligent user left them after the cycle ended, but really, who steals clothes out of a dryer? Put them on the floor even, but really? You're going to steal a beach towel and some used undies? So, there's nothing I can do right? There's no one to complain to, no eager manager or laundry attendant? WRONG. I wrote a note. I am going to assume that someone took the clothes on accident, thinking it was one of their loads, and will realize it and return them to the laundry room, where they will see my note and return them to my apartment, no questions asked. Riiiight. Kent asked me if someone did put them back, if I would wash them again. Seriously? I've lost a load of my belongings, and you ask if I'd wash them again if they showed up. This coming from the guy who wears clothes he just bought without washing them. Ew. I mean, what, is someone going to terrorize my laundry with harmful chemicals? Oh, now there is a clever terrorist act--put harmful skin irritants in public laundry machines. Ba ha ha ha! But seriously, Osama Bin Laundry, give me my beach towel and underware back. Or at least let me give you the other towel, they match and it's no fun having just one. The underware you can keep, it was time for new ones, if you know what I mean.

Spring Break Haps

2009-04-06T21:06:00.005-05:00

What says Spring Break better than baiting mule deer to the front porch, posin' with The General (Jessica Simpson has nothing on this), paying tribute to THE Smokey (the bear) and seeing Kent in his natural Odessan Jackalope habitat? Honestly, you might say, "umm...duh, Cancun?" Well, I'm sorry, but, you're entirely wrong. See, I even have photographic evidence.

See, even Kent was moved by the sociocultural significance of one black bear's lifetime

but, don't worry, he got over it. Go Odessa Jackalopes! Trust me, the American Airlines Center has nothing on the Ector County Colosseum. As if the brawling game fans weren't enough, behind us was the famous local arena football team, the Odessan "Roughnecks." Really, it was a cultural West Texan experience.

Alli's Getting Hitched

2009-03-13T13:41:00.003-05:00

Alli accepted Eric Curtis' proposal of marriage on Tuesday, March 10th. The wedding will take place at the Myhre residence on September 12th.

Meet Patton

2009-03-09T22:07:00.003-05:00

Patton is a 7 week old, terrier mix rescue puppy from the Dallas SPCA Shelter. He weighs 8 lbs and has an average temperature of 102 F. Okay, enough with all the superfluous details. Kent adopted Patton on Saturday afternoon after finding him on the shelter's web site. It was love at first sight and the feeling is entirely mutual. Patton is affectionate, playful and surprisingly getting along well with both his crate and potty training. Kent is an attentive master, and the two make quite an adorable pair. With Patton around, I'm now outnumbered, but it's okay, I think they both like me well enough to keep me around another week, ten days (Myhreism).

Stars v. Ducks (formerly Mighty)

2009-03-02T13:50:00.005-06:00

Kent and I enjoyed some weekend hockey action at the American Airlines Center on Saturday. The Dallas Stars faced off against the Anaheim Ducks. I was disappointed to learn that the Star's west coast opponent no longer used their Disney-famous title of The MIGHTY Ducks, but were now simply the Ducks. They also no longer make use of the Flying V nor the triple deke. Oh, the times, they are a changing.

Despite their abandoned offensive threats, the Ducks still managed to outscore the Stars, entertaining me with 7 total goals and 2 fist fights. I also included pictures of the Stars dancers and the ice girls who periodically scrape the shavings off the ice during time-outs. Yes, they are wearing boob shirts and low rider pants. I guess that is just one more possible meaning for the term "reaching for the stars."

Superman

2009-02-22T12:31:00.000-06:00

My disengagement with this blog is due in large part to my relationship with "Superman." My parents, specifically my father; have this cute way of categorizing our boyfriends with special names that relate to a portion of their name, location or hobby. For example, little Kayt's BF is Chris, so when they started dating during the holidays, my dad dubbed him "Chris Kringle," which may or may not have been a step up from his previous title "Missouri" often pronounced "Misery." Many of you may also be familiar with Alli's main man, Eric, affectionately known as "Tractor Boy." Eric is a boy wonder when it comes to fixing anything mechanical and seems to have a special fondness for old tractors, thus the awkward moniker.

So, why did I title this blog, Superman? Well, because I'm dating Kent. Not Clark Kent, but a young man of exceptional taste and fortitude, who goes by Kent, ergo, my dad calls him "Superman."

I know it's really cheese-ball to blog about your boyfriend, but it's really the only way I could figure out how to involve those I love, in the unfolding story of life here in Texas with the man I love. Awh...(just get out all those sappy sighs or reflex gags out now, because it doesn't get any better from here).

Our story began on October 10th, in a goat barn, at the Texas State Fair...

I was going to the fair with Kate on a friday night (reference earlier blog) and Kent was there with his sister Adrianne, brother in law, Travis and two nephews, Logan and Cole. While waltzing through the goat barns, I spotted Adrianne, my co-worker, and we exchanged brief hellos and introductions. All I remember about Kent was that he was semi hiding behind his three year old nephew. The following week I was a bit taken-back when Adrianne asked me if she could give Kent my cell phone number. After asking a few follow up questions about her knowledge of Kent's intentions, I acquiesced, and the following evening received a phone call from a man with the voice of a double bass. I nearly laughed out loud--the voice simply did not match the cute guy I'd seen the previous weekend hiding behind his nephew. I said yes to dinner the following weekend and from there on, started a very slow, cautious friendship.

Those who know more of our story in depth, have already heard of how God used our friendship to bring Kent back into relationship with Christ. Suffice it to say, we both had to give up control and in doing so, I saw God's power and faithfulness and Kent experienced again the peace that honestly, the struggle that comes with being confronted with both God's grace and his holiness. We're still journeying, but it's been fruitful--Praise God!

It's been a blast to share life together. We're a part of a small community within our larger church body that meets nearly every week to be accountable and to grow in knowledge and love of our savior. Most of us are young, some married couples, some singles, it's wonderful. While we're all still working towards being more authentic with each other, it's awesome to just be in community with people who are there with that as their goal. There is also a young couple who just had the most adorable little boy, and Kate and I go over to their place on Thursdays for baby time and to watch The Office :)

Kent has introduced me to his friends. They have a LONG history that is wonderful and a bit intimidating, but it's good for me to be the outsider, being in the "in crowd" so much in my little world back home. Kent has also introduced me to hockey. I honestly had never so much as watched a game on TV, unless Disney's Mighty Ducks counts ("the flying V!"). We've gone to a few Dallas Star's games, and while I've yet to see a fight, I've learned that icing isn't merely for cupcakes and that you can catch and throw the puck with your hands if you're on defense, and that it's not uncommon to see fans place their hands over their hearts and pledge allegiance during both "O Canada" and "The Star Spangled Banner." Really people? Pick a country!

We can also often be found in a tiny rubber composite floor gymnasium in Mansfield on Saturday mornings watching the Dragons take on whomever dares to stand in their way of running down the half court while attempting one, or at best two dribbles. Kent's oldest nephew Logan is on a bitty ball team through UpWard, a Christian basketball league. It's like Parks and Rec meets Royal Rangers (Christian Boy Scouts). During half time they hear a devotional and then watch the kindergarten cheerleaders do a little cheer (in uniform). Logan never misses the cheerleaders :) After the game they give out iron on stars for "best offense" or "most Christian like." Too cute. I kind of want to coach next year.

We're both pretty much home bodies, so going out usually means to eat at a local restaurant or going shopping at Wal-Mart. Here are a few recent pics of us, really entertained while cruising the aisles of Ross...

These shoes were awesome. They were bright pink and said "Kool-Aid" on the heels. I didn't buy them.

One of our new favorite local restaurants is Twisted Root Burger Company. They make everything from scratch, including their buffalo burgers and homemade rootbeer. When you order your meal at the counter they give you a slip with a famous name and then call it out over the mic when it's ready. Last time I was "Your Fairy Godmother" and Kent was "Harry Potter."

So much for "Superman." :)

Overdue

2008-12-08T00:15:00.000-06:00

You know the cliche, life gets busy? Well, life has been just that the last two, brimming months. Tonight I'm up way past my bed time, which is a relative statement when you work full time, take six hours of grad school and try to balance it all while pursuing Christ and managing a engaging social calendar ;) That said, I'm up late catching up on blogs of my friends who have been on dissimilar adventures this past year. One friend has gone through severe health trauma, long, painful treatments and extended seclusion from family, while another pair of pals have set off to travel the world with their dry fit undies and telephoto lens. Readings their stories puts my simple stress and small adventures in a pale light, but nevertheless, their stories and mine, paint vividly beautiful stokes of color on a canvas tribute to the glorious faithfulness of the Father.

So, just what have I been up to this past 8 weeks? Well...

I took a nerdy Discovery Channel audio tour of The Alamo, on a recruiting trip to San Antonio. I learned many historical facts central to the culture of the lone star state, none so irrelevant as that Davy Crocket died during the short battle we now remember so fervently as gallant patriots.

My favorite site in San Anton were the River Walk and the beautiful old cathedral on the plaza that I can no longer remember the name of...my memory banks must have been already maxed out by The Alamo...

While down south, I also joined my co-workers for a conference in Corpus Christi. We took an evening cruise to the Texas State Aquarium on a boat (not the replica of the Nina or the battle ship---just a regular people barge)

Thanksgiving found me grateful to have a few days with my family, celebrating in traditional fashion, shooting Auntie Karen's 44 and if I might mention, doing it better than the boys, thank you very much. AND, I got to see Joann! She took me to my first ever CYT (Christian Youth Theatre) production, which just happened to be my favorite musical, "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers." We also frolicked in the park, sang carols, drank coffee and watched a really anti-climatic Christmas tree lighting ceremony.

Back home (in Texas) Kate and I had a fun "date night" at the American Airlines Center watching the Stars beat the Avalanche in an over time shoot out. I'm not sure if I am now a hockey fan, but it was super fun (minus the scantilly clad ice girls whose sole purpose in life it seems at least in terms of their employment is to remove ice shavings during time outs while looking good in a mid drift) There was a picture of the arena, but it didn't load. Dang, no ice girls for ya'll.

These are just a few cute additions that have found their way into my heart and home, mostly seasonal, as you can see, but I might "keep 'em around another week, ten days."

The Last Cowboy's Win of the Season?

2008-11-09T17:36:00.000-06:00

Kate scored Cowboy's seats for the Tampa Bay game a few weekends back. We sat only eleven rows from the end zone!

Not only did the Cowboys win, by the skin of their scrappy, cow poke teeth, but they also brought in Country Western singer/song writer legend, Randy Travis, who sang the national anthem and then greeted fans during the first quarter.

Chicken Fried Piglet

2008-10-15T17:15:00.000-05:00

What's better than a fistful of skillet fried bacon? I have the answer for you friends--bacon that is skillet fried, rolled in seasoned flour, fried again and then served up in a red and white checkered paper bowl at the Texas State Fair! Just ask my gal-pal Kate and I. We're so excited about it that we're blurry. Bacon, bacon, bacon!

Despite this artery clogging, heart stopping, once-in-a-lifetime fair food experience the real highlight at the Texas State Fair this year was by far the petting zoo (that, and the taco stand guy who hit on Kate, and the gang police out in unprecedented numbers due to it being High School Day). Those little baby critters with their outside the fryer, inedible charm, stole the show. I took enough photos of the exotic animal display to stamp the seal on my out-of-state status, but only one of them turned out. Go figure.

No, just kidding, a couple others did too. There was a girafe, several zebras, various bovine creatures of indo-african origins, four horned sheep of the Acopolypse, and my personal favorites, a mama piggy, PC term for Sow, and her little suckling piglets.

Which reminds me of a joke I once made up at the age of 5 (I have witnesses). Why did the pig light a match? No, no, he didn't have gastrointestinal issues....I was FIVE. Answer: Because he wanted to be a pig-lit. Pig-lit, piglet, get it? Did I mention I was five? Ah, genius is never recognized it its own time.

Dallas PD Ridin' Nerdy

2008-10-05T18:01:00.001-05:00

The Dallas/Fort Worth area is the forth largest metropolitan region in the nation. As such, it's no stranger to crime and general malicious mischief. The answer--Segways.

DISCLAIMER: If you're over the age

of 40 or, for personal reasons, choose not to be a fan of Weird Al Yankovich (seriously though, what is wrong with you?) I'm not sure you'll follow the remainder of this blog.

During my visits to El Centro Community College in downtown Dallas, just a block from where JFK was shot from the sixth floor textbook depository, I often encounter police offers on Segways. As you see above, these officers take their personal walking device patroling seriously. I'm not joking, they will roll you down.

But, oh, hahaha, I can barely contain myself as I share this with you---how many of you are familiar with Weird Al's spin off of the song "Ridin' Dirty", known as "White n' Nerdy?"

There is a lyric in Yankovich's version that goes something like, "they see my roll on my Segway, I know in my heart they think I'm White and nerdy."

So, you can imagine how often I find myself chuckling, audibly, and then spending the remainder of my day singing "White n' Nerdy" and thinking of those adorable, helmet clad, badge baring officers, with their holstered weapons and latent community authority, rendered completely useless by how ridiculously silly they look!

If this image and my confession have motivated you to watch the Weird Al video again, or for the first time, you can find it on www.youtube.com. The way I see it, if I'm going to slip further into comedic anarchy, I might as well take one or two of you with me...

Ostriches and The Divine

2008-09-29T22:49:00.000-05:00

Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. The wild beasts will honor me, the jackals and the ostriches, for I give water in the wilderness, rivers in the desert, to give drink to my chosen people, the people whom I formed for myself that they might declare my praise.

Pretty awesome, prophetic stuff eh? Aren't you all glad that you have access to such poetic, theological imagery? Yeah, so I plagiarized it right out of Isaiah 43:18-21. I also can't lie--these last few weeks have been a lost battle, not the kind of weeks you want to blog home about. My brave face amidst this crazy Texan misadventure has been stripped off, a mere mask for the pain and feelings of failure, abandonment, anger and despair. Behind the sunny weather, cockroach massacres, baklava, and reams upon reams of ribbon is a woman hidden in sarcasm and shame. Where is the purpose? Why am I here? I want to go home!

But, I know there isn't any going back, not at least in the spiritual sense. I've always known and believed, even when trust has worn thin that God has a purpose for my time in Texas and from a macro perspective, for my life. What I so often loose sight of COMPLETELY however, is why he has a plan for it all. It's not for my happiness, comfort, achievement and satisfaction--it's for his glory. I chuckle to myself as I contemplate how God himself cannot deny his own glory--he would be a heretic. He rocks, he knows it, get on board, or miss out on the REASON WHY YOU WERE CREATED HONEY.

I do apologize for the all caps. It will be a rare literary style I'll defer to in the future for only these truly worthy divine subjects.

This holy text also blesses my proverbial Nike dry fit socks off with its mention of ostriches; a violent, thigh-normous, flightless bird of which I am bound to by familiar reference. Thanks are due to my sister Alli for bringing this to my attention so persistently throughout our adolescence.

Lastly, to Mom. Thank you for your patience, your prayers and your life-giving wisdom and, with it's own power of healing, so often also--your silence. God could offer me no more tangible demonstration of grace. In case you're wondering, I still want to be just like you when I "bloom" up.

Okay, everyone go get a tissue--I promise you a blog by the end of the week that will literally Segway back to a more familiar discourse on the craziness that is life in the DFW Metroplex.

"Mums" the word, for Texas Homecoming

2008-09-13T22:44:00.001-05:00

I was recently introduced to a southern high school homecoming tradition; the giving and wearing of "mums." Through casual conversation I learned that I should expect to see mums appearing in grocery stores for purchase. Naturally I assumed that mums were corsages that I'm used to seeing in the Northwest. That, however, is entirely incorrect. Mums are perhaps the ultimate manifestation of all that is truly gaudy and over the top in the South.

You may think I'm exaggerating, but I think you may agree with me once you witness photographic evidence. As you see, mums consistent of literally reams of ribbons, bows and assorted trinkets. Mums are customized for the recipient, typically with the name of the wearer's date and possibly accented with school colors and activities the date or datee may be involved in. The male versions are, of course, entirely understated, worn on the upper arm and proceeding not much lower than the elbow. A lady mum, on the over hand, has it's own zip code.

How much do these beauties cost? I'm told somewhere in the range of $80 per pop. Don't worry though, they're worn with pride and then preserved in boxes long into the wearer's adult years. Priceless. There are some things money can't buy, but apparently frivolous, tacky ribbon pom pom badges aren't among them.

Mi Casita en Tejas

2008-09-08T17:45:00.000-05:00

Roaches Get the Runs

2008-08-24T20:28:00.000-05:00

For lack of better comedic fodder, indulge me again on the topic of cockroaches. The roaches and I have developed an uneasy but livable relationship, at least on my part. I've grown in boldness from merely scaring them off to actually applying extermination measures of various forms and levels of effectiveness.

Two weeks ago, I awoke to find that a nectarine in my fruitbowl had a child sized bite taken out of it, with drippy remains of what was most likely, a digestively unpleasant night for my crunchy friends. After laughing audibly at the idea of bugs having the runs, my mood sifted to a fierce frustration and sincere resolve. Much like Joey, of the sitcom "Friends" I'm fairly easy to live with, just don't eat my food!

So, last week I went to Wal-Mart. Don't judge me, I am living in Texas. At said purveyor, I purchased a brown, lumpy substance in a chaulking tube that promised to lure roaches to feast and then send back to their nests to die. This option pleased me most as it was passive in nature and did not require direct contact on my part. Going home, I installed the goo with wincing, furrowed brow and watched in AWE as a large brown roach literally came out from below the countertop to feed AS I WAS SQUEEZING OUT THE GUNK. This I watched with morbid relish, and I squirm even as I retell it.

Unfortunately, not all roach varieties have the same appetite for the goo. There is a small variety of red roach, and when I say smaller, it's still twice as big as any bug I've ever seen back home, which is resistent to the poisons' olfactory lure. #$%!

These creatures have however, given me the opporunity to expand my extermination techniques to more applied measures. Late last week I literally came face to face with a Red (the cold war reference might reak of McCarthyism, but it serves to give name to my enemy) as I was bending down to load the dishwasher. Bastard. I went for the kill. Did I use brute force-- the heel of a blunt object? No, I fought with all my Rosie the Riveter fortitude, ran to the bathroom, found my can of John Frieda Beautiful Blonde hair spray and dosed the mother until it's little antenna were fused and it surrendered onto it's back and began its gutts oozing death dance.

While this encounter marked my first hands assasination, that John Frieda crap is not cheap. The next one got only a quick spritz, just to disorient it and then a wopping from my broom. Let's just say that the blow killed more than the bug and I'm not the proud owner of a Swiffer.

This week, I'm proud to say that I've truly arrived to the next level of preparedness, having gone out and purchased a supersized can of Raid that I've thankfully only had cause to use once this week. The attack began in the kitchen and found me running, can in hand, spray foaming forth, into the "dinning room" i.e. the bar counter, onto the carpet and just short of the coach. In the words of John McClane, "Yippie-ki-yay..." well, you know the rest.

The List

2008-08-16T14:05:00.000-05:00

Life has settled into a nice little routine here at the Cabochon at Las Colinas. I get up at 6 a.m., okay, it's really more like 6:30...ish...and I'm out the door by 7:30 to squeeze into work around the 8 a.m. mark. Once a week I get Starbucks on the way--I know, I'm a wild woman.

I've started taking COD (Counselor on Duty) appointments at work. I heart COD. Pretty much COD is as unpredictable as life itself. You never know who is going to walk through the door. It could be a 40-year-old wanting to know how their 20-year-old art school credit hours will transfer into a nursing program or a homeschool family demanding a reasonable explanation for the difference between early admission and dual enrollment, which is like explaining to a fish the difference between swimming and breathing underwater.

Earlier this week my co-worker (Rae-Rae) got a call from a man who wanted to know where certain information could be located. Patiently, Raquel responded, "Yes, you can find that on our university website, u-t-a dot e-d-u." To this the gentleman replied, "Oh yes, oota.edu, I've used that site before." Oota. Gotta love it. So if anyone asks where I am, and why I'm in Texas, you can tell them I'm working for oota.

On a completely extemporaneous note, the men at the table next to me, who are chain-smoking and probably doing efficient work of poisoning my healthy lungs, just exchanged a poinant piece of sociopolitical fodder:
"Hey man, have you been watching the Olympics?"
"Nah, not really"
"Are the Lebanonese good at any of the events? (the other man is from Lebanon)
"Yeah, killing each other. But, that's not yet an Olympic sport."

........

So, as previously promised, I've been meditating on the things I enjoy most about Texas and the things it seems (thus far at least) that I'll always miss about home. Here's the breakdown:

Texas has...
beautiful twilights and gorgeous sunsets
SWEET TEA
Chic-fil-a waffle fries
diverse people
southern charm
horizontal traffic lights
state pride
cheaper gasoline
lightning storms
half price book stores
hobby lobby
dollar theatres (okay, it's actually $1.75, but only .50 on Tuesdays!)
the 4th largest metroplex in the nation
and Troy, my friend from Austin who added himself to the list (bless his heart)

Despite all this goodness, I miss Oregon's...
cool nights
Independently owned coffee shops
TACO DEL MAR
scenic mountainscapes
Hippies
diversity of political thought
fresh seafood!
beautiful college campuses
craftsmen style residential architecture
fir trees
Powell's Bookstore
non-tolled freeways
strictly enforced tobacco smoking laws
Pacific Ocean beaches
Solid Rock Fellowship
Northwest music scene
natural high lakes (Texas only has one natural lake)
and of course, Oregon's very own special blend of people who keep part of me with them no matter where I go, the Myhre clan at large, the KCAG family, my brothers and sisters from George Fox, my Foster Friends, Villa Road House ladies and those special ones I cherish, you know who you are. I'm 2,000 miles away, but I carry you in my heart!

Uninspired

2008-08-03T20:23:00.000-05:00

It's been a few weeks, but I'm still here, and things are much as they've been since I moved over a month ago now. It's hotter. I'm still splitting rent at least in regards to my kitchen with my cockroach friends who have become reclusive but generous in their indications of their presence. Just in case you haven't had to "Google" it yet, cockroach poop DOES look like mini mouse droppings, but apparently it's rare to have both an ant and a cockroach problem, so my apartment must be a magical place of pestulent richness, a perfect world where ant and cochroach co-exist in mutual infestation.

The Itallian still greets me with a kiss on the cheek, but it's not as thrilling as it was the first time.

Did I already mention it's hotter? Today it was 107 F. I've decided that the "F" now stands for "freaking ridiculously hot!!!" (sorry mom).

You've all heard the expression, "kick the bucket." I've not had a confrontation with death, per se, but I did kick a frog this week. It really hurt. I immediately pronounced it to be the grotesque horned frog, of which I've heard local lore, but one of my Texas friends has convinced me it was just a Texas sized frog. Tell that to my toe, it's still sore. Please tell me you're enjoying the visual image of me tripping over a frog during an evening jog? I know I didn't set up the story well, but you have to appreciate it nonetheless.

Work has picked up into full swing. This last week was a bear. It started off in Paradise, literally in Paradise, TX on a work retreat, and ended the week with a long day of COD. Once or twice a week, I'm assigned to be Counselor on Duty, or COD for short. I have a love/hate relationship with COD. It's a dream to finally be working with students again, but such a burden to remind myself that it's going to be months before I feel truly competent in my UTA/Texas Ed. knowledge---I'm not a very gracious green horn. Nevertheless, I at least feel like a half-way contributing member of the office now.

We've also divided up assignments for the fall fair circuit, which I'll hearforth refer to as TACRAO, or The Neverending Recruiting Season (nevermind the lack of congruence between the acronym). I get to go to San Antonio and discover the Alamo in late October, venture to Corpus Christi for a conference in early November and then tread new ground in the yet undiscovered state of Louisianna when I go to New Orleans in February.

To wrap things up in this informative if yet thus far, unentertaining post, I enjoyed the Beth Moore Live Simulcast this weekend at the church I've been attending. I found it delightfully curious that Beth (the speaker) mentioned, out of the 715 locations on satellite feed, Wenachee Washington, the home town of one of my besties and Albany Oregon, home to Albany First Assembly, which will always in my mind be the "rival" church of my own beloved KCAG, a fact which I should probably seek counseling over, as there really is no room for a spirit of competition in the body of Christ.

Well, that's all she wrote. I love and miss you all and plan for my next blog to be written with much less neglect than a much more thorough attention to prose and motiff. I plan to share the top ten things I appreciate most about my new home and the top ONE million I miss most about the home that will always be home in my heart.

On a lighter note, I passed an establishment near the church I'm attending that advertised "Drive through beer."

God bless Texas.

Oops, now Anonymous Comments are available

2008-07-31T12:46:00.000-05:00

You aren't all going crazy, my settings were set wrong. Anonymous comments are now officially an option. Follow instructions bellow...

P.S. New blog coming soon!

How to make a comment

2008-07-25T08:31:00.000-05:00

Several people have asked me how to leave comments on this blog, and since I never shy away from feed-back, here are some helpful hints:

First, click on the title of the blog you'd like to comment on, i.e. "My First Fried Ball of Corn Bread."

Then, scroll to the bottom of the blog and click on "Post a Comment"

Thirdly, type your message into the "Leave a Comment" box on the right.

Finally, choose your identity at the bottom of the "Leave a Comment" box. Having a Google/Blogger account is NOT required to leave a comment. Click on "Name/URL" and then type in your name (URL is not required) or if you want to leave an anonymous comment, you can, believe it or not, click on "anonymous" as your identity.

What you've all been waiting for...

2008-07-21T20:59:00.000-05:00

Texasisms. Believe it or not, ha! actually Dallas is home to a really large, taj mahal shaped Ripley's Believe it of Not, but that's not what I am after, so stop distracting me. Believe it or not, Texans say some great things.

Sure, they use ya'll in place of the collective plural "you" or "you all," but there are much more subtle idiums which I have begun to appreciate and *gasp, adopt, by default, as if my hard drive is being reset, word by word, sllyable by painfully slowly spoken syllable--I am being converted.

My favorite Texasism so far is, "bless your heart." Now, you have to understand, this phrase is used in multiple contexts and the meaning must be derived from the context. A Texan might say, "Oh well, just bless your heart!" to their loved one upon receiving a gift, and then within the same breath use it to cushion the blow of an awkward situation, like telling someone their baby has an unfortunately misshapen head, "bless his heart!"

I love this phrase. I use it liberally and usually sub-consciously, unless you've seen the disappointing new release "Fools Gold," and then I do it unconsciously.

I've also be spending a lot of time with my co-worker Raquel, who, bless her heart, has been driving me all over Dallas County, introducing me to the community college advisors I'll be working with once she hands over her territory to me in September. Raquel has an alter ego who another co-worker, Andi, has dubbed "Rae Rae." Rae Rae is a 60 year old black man who makes anxious, warning statements like, "oh no, I's gonna hafta tell this boy to stop callin me." At which point all the office yells out, "Rae Rae!"
I was shadowing a counselor appointment with Raquel last week. She and I were speaking with a young man who just exited the army and was considering taking a civilian contactor position overseas because, as he explained, "I want to travel a bit while I'm not tied down and still single." To which, Rae Rae replied, "okay, just don't go sowin' no wild oats," and then Raquel was once again in the room, explaining his options to defer enrollment for up to three semesters...ah, priceless.

Texans also have brazenly blunt bumper stickers. In fact, Texans are so polite, that I think the only outlet they have to loose their true opinions is on the chrome bumpers of their Ford F-150s and Dodge Rams. My favorite is "I'm from Texas, what country are you from?"

Oh, and Travis, the liberals live IN the closet here. I've seen no democratic bumper stickers, aside from a few plastered on ultra fuel efficient hatchbacks in the UTA parking lot. I'm convinced that they actually bike to work for fear of driving their cars, and just use their parking space as a personal billboard.

If I was joking, it wouldn't be funny.

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

2008-07-18T08:39:00.000-05:00

I can't go outside. It's over 100 degrees, but that's not the problem; it's level orange air pollution. Flashing signs along my commute exort me to "limit my outside activities." I stiffle a laugh, sigh and wish I had worn my sequined red slippers this morning.

Two days ago I met my neighbor. Bryan presented as a pleasant man in his mid thirties, pleated khaki pants, shirt tucked in too securely with the tell tale IT security badge tethered around his neck. "Yes, I am your neighbor!" I over enthusiastically replied to his inquiry. Bryan, however, did not want to be my neighbor in the neighborly sense, he'd just seen me leave for an evening jaut and took the opportunity to ask me if I'm the one who plays bass thumping music at 10 p.m.?

Arrrghh....yes, thank you "Mr.Heckles," I'll try to keep it down.

For those of you who have virorously advised me to find community, don't worry--I'm visiting a church this weekend which hosts a friday night coffee house social. I'm forcing myself to go. Yeah, community!

To wrap up this randomly organized and ridiculously self-indulgent post, I've been meaning to share photos of some of the sights along my commute, i.e. my "hood." Yesterday I found a Whole Foods Store (Thank you God!) where upon took a new route home and at one point was smack dab between the new Dallas Cowboys stadium (which is in Arlington), the Texas Ranger's Ballpark, Hurricane Harbor (massive water park) and Six Flags Over Texas.

Enjoy the visual feast...

My First Fried Ball of Corn Bread

2008-07-14T14:36:00.001-05:00

Apparently they're called "hush puppies." Yes, like the shoe brand. On the menu they were listed as simply "pups." They pack a satisfying superficial crunch, complemented by the soft doughy center which boasts both the traditional cornbready goodness with a hint of jalepeno.

My generous dinner companions also made sure that I sampled other local delicacies, such as gator tail and fried pickles. Now, unlike the hush puppies, which are in fact NOT silently deep fried doggie nuggets, the gator tail is in fact the deep fried tail of an alligator, served in portions not dissimilar to popcorn chicken but much chewier.

Now, for some naive reason, I'd imagined that fried pickles were somehow served whole. I recall visions of giant Vlasic's dills, deep fried and served across your plate like a banana slug. However, they are in fact ingeniously pre-sliced into delicate crinkle cut coins, deep fried to artery clogging perfection. I loved them.

Stairmaster, here I come!

Spraying for bugs

2008-07-11T22:14:00.000-05:00

I came home to my apartment after a long week of work, and my eighth day of successful metroplex rushhour vehicular navigation (thank you Sally Nogivan---my GPS) to find a small yellow card on my counter. Considering I'd found a giant cockroach in that same spot the night prior, this miniscule, mass produced memo provoked no screams of terror nor tears of defeat. My apartment was sprayed for bugs. Thank you God!

Next move, spray myself. That's right, I sprayed the exposed areas of my body with "Off!" Skinfantastic (who really came up with that name?) Was I planning a trek into the woods or a camping trip along a lake? No, no--I just needed to check my e-mail. That's right, my e-mail.

Checking my e-mail means packing up the lap top to walk three blocks down to the Grenada Market, where I thriftfully utilize my public resources made available by an upscale sort of quickie mart. I sit outside, because I feel less conspicuous about the fact that I don't plan to buy anything. Thus, the bug spray.

I found out that cockroaches can also fly, and not just in Singapore, like my friend Joann informed me during a conversation we had post-incident last night. I think she was meaning to comfort me. My co-worker must have had similar intentions when she independently confirmed that "yeah, did you know that sometimes they fly too?"

I'm an obvious advocate for the procurement of knowledge, it's not just a paycheck, but seriously, the cliche, "ignorance is bliss" comes to mind.