Chatter Boxes

At the gym this morning I saw the morning newscast of NBC ActionNews. Here's what the reporter said as best as I can remember it.

"Police officials are investigating the death of a young Kansas City man today. The man was involved in a police chase when he lost control of his vehicle and collided into a building near Linwood Ave. Officials are not sure why the man was speeding away from police but they did find a large amount of crack cocaine in the vehicle."

I imagine them standing around scratching their chins. One says, "Maybe he was late for a dentist appointment." Another adds, "Oh Oh I know...he was trying to return his library books before midnight so he wouldn't have to pay overdue charges."

Dear Genius Police Officials,

It was the crack cocaine that caused the sudden aversion to law enforcement.

Sincerely,
Kim

I tell this story for several reasons:

1) People told me they were tired of looking at my engagement ring...sniff, sniff. Said people are boys so I thought maybe a car chase would be more their style. I'm an equal opportunity blogger.

2) After working with police detectives at the hospital, I thought it would be a pretty cool job. And now I know that I'm smart enough to do it.

3) So that everyone would know that I got up this morning and went to the gym. Yeah me!!

I got an email from my grandma this week telling me, among other things, how much she loves me and that she enjoys reading about my adventures, my thoughts, hopes, dreams. She thinks I should write a book. It’s not hard for me to imagine. Not because my life experience and writing skills warrant a publisher. That’s just what grandmas do.

My grandma lives in California. Other than the few years we lived in Long Beach, we’ve lived far away from her. My memories of her are good. She’s had her share of heartbreak and disappointment. She’s had more adventures and excitement than I could even begin to hope for. She should write the book!

She has nine grandchildren and given the opportunity, she’ll tell you about each and every one of them with a beaming smile of pride. We’ve done some good things…things to be proud of. But it wouldn’t matter, she’d beam anyway. Sometimes we go too long without calling or visiting. We don’t always do what’s right or make the best decisions. That matters, but she’d beam anyway.

You should meet my grandma. If you did, you’d eat a lot. She’d prepare for weeks for your arrival. You’d eat breakfast…and not just cereal and milk. I mean breakfast! Eggs, sausage, fruit, toast, bacon, juice, coffee, pancakes, AND cereal and milk. You’d be sitting at the table enjoying your breakfast, “Where’s grandma?” you ask. She’s in the kitchen…fixing lunch. And not just sandwiches. I mean lunch!

If you met my grandma and you could get her to sit down long enough she would tell you stories. She’d tell you about her parents and brothers and sisters. She’d tell you about my grandpa and about how much she loved him. About owning the Wig Wam drive-in. She’d tell you about all the boyfriends she had after grandpa died…who just couldn’t measure up. About her kids…what they did, where they went, the trouble they got into (they‘re reading this and blaming it on someone else.)

If you met my grandma she would tell you that God is good. She told me so in the email she just sent. She tells us all the time. Every story is an illustration of how thankful and blessed she is and how faithful God has been. Not because her life has been easy or because everything is perfect now. But because God has been with her…just like he said he would. She would want you to know that.

I suppose this is the sort of thing people write about someone who is sick or dying. Not so…not even close. I just wanted you to meet her and wanted her to know how grateful I am that she belongs to me.

All day Friday, while I was at work (in an office with no window), the sky looked like this...

5:00 finally arrived and I headed outside to greet the sun I'd heard about all day. This is what my car window looked like on the drive home...

"Typical!" I groaned after the week I'd had. I know I won't get sympathy from the Portland/Seattle crowd.

I might have spoken a bit too soon. It turned out to be a beautiful weekend.

Sunday Lunch - Clear skies with a slight breeze from the north, temperature approximately 74 degrees.

The sister came over to do her taxes. As payment for our tax services she took me and the roommate out for lunch on this lovely patio. Drink of choice...Diet Coke with lime. Yummy!!

Playtime with Sheena - clear skies, more breezy, temperature approximately 70 degrees.

These are my new friends. They moved in last weekend and come over regularly to see if "Sheena can come out and play." The older one showed up about a week ago, got off her bike and said, "That's the cutest dog I've ever seen!" They take turns walking her up and down the hill outside our front door. Sheena hates it and gives me a look that says, "Please don't make me go." They informed me yesterday that they were starting a dog service and it was going to cost me fifty cents to have them play with my dog. "How 'bout a glass of water?" I said. They thought that was a fair compromise. Ahhh kids!

Tickets and Taxes - warm and toasty because I worked on them both from the comfort of my living room in my pj's.

Tickets went on sale Saturday morning and I will now be attending my 7th Dave Matthews Band show on May 31st. I know! I know! I like him more than I should. I will not apologize.

On a more responsible note...I also did my taxes. See Mr. Six...8 days to spare! Yeah me!

And just because I know pics of my dog make Mr. Six giggle, here's a bonus pic to get you through the last week of tax season.

The last couple of days have not been so easy on the work front. It happens to everyone on occasion. I was determined to get up this morning with enthusiasm and excitement for the opportunity I have to positively impact the lives around me.

But instead I hear my own voice saying, "blah blah blah...whatever" accompanied by a really big eye roll.

In the car on my way to work this morning I was flipping through radio stations trying to find something to lighten the mood. I tried the Christian radio station for some divine encouragement and got, "this is SRN news." Nope...not gonna work. I tried the morning show on mix. They were talking about some undergarment contraption that lifts your tooshie (I can't say butt...my mother reads this blog...but look mom, I attempted to listen to Christian music!). That wasn't going to work either.

I hit the scan button and what to my wandering ears should I hear...

Dancing queen, young and sweet only seventeen
Dancing queen, feel the beat from the tambourine

I smirked just a little. Then...I glanced over at the car next to me on 71 Hwy. The driver was wearing a muscle shirt and looked exactly like Jesse Ventura. Could it be? Yes ladies and gentlemen there he was with all the excitement and enthusiasm I couldn't find...singin' along with every word.




You can dance
You can jiiive
Having the time of your liiiife
See that girl, watch that scene
Dig in the dancing queen




So here's to you Mr. Dancing Queen. I'm happy for you. You dance and jive your little heart out...right there in your car for everyone to see.

You made me smile for a moment. I hope a moment is all I needed.

I have a secret desire to be a singer. Not a chart topper or a grammy winner. I want to sing from a bar stool in places where the lighting is low and people listen over a cup o' joe. It would be so cool to say the phrase "I have a gig" or "you should come by the coffeeshop...we have a 7 o'clock set."

There's a few problems with my plan, the most crucial being that I can't sing. At least not well enough to be "gig" worthy. Except in the shower but that would be...well...awkward.

As some of you know, I'm never very far from my ipod. One thing I learned about myself since the purchase...I like sad songs. I don't know what it is about them. Maybe the honesty? Maybe the raw emotions?

My roommate and sister laugh at Apple's marketing strategy of putting "i" in front of their product or software names. You buy your ipod and install itunes where you can download an imix that you listen to in your car by plugging in your itrip or at home into your itower . I could go on but it's annoying enough already.

When discussing my attraction to sad songs, someone suggested I make an imix of my own. To which my sister replied, "Yeah, you can call it i-sad."

Since the chances of booking a gig in a local coffeeshop are slim. Here's the next best thing. Grab a cup of coffee (and kleenex if you're feeling especially sensitive) and check out these girls. Pretend it's me...singin' atop a barstool with shaggy haired guitar players in the background.

Anna Nalick
Wreck of the Day
Catalyst

Brandi Carlile
What Can I Say
Fall Apart Again
Throw it all Away

Mindy Smith
Raggedy Ann
Down In Flames
Hurricane

Rosie Thomas
It Don't Matter to the Sun
One More Day

If you haven't lapsed into an overwhelming state of depression...feel free to i-comment with sad song i-suggestions of your own.