A: Apparently not my husband. It is now almost 9:15 on Friday night, and Dan has not slept since waking up Thursday morning at 10:30. Yes, that's about 35 straight hours up--and he's still going strong! Why, you ask, did he pull an all nighter that just never quit? Because he wasn't tired. Duh.
So this morning when I got up we went to IHOP for breakfast, which was a fun treat. While he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I felt like crap, because I only got 7 hours of sleep, which is the equivalent of about 5 hours to the non-pregnant Alison. It's incredible how I can do absolutely nothing and still be exhausted. (Actually, I didn't do nothing--we registered last night, which means I was on my feet for two solid hours while we wandered Babies R Us, and that's the longest I've stood in a LONG time.)
The Angels game is on now, bottom of the 7th, so I doubt Dan will even think about bed until the game is over. I don't think it'll be hard to cajole him into going to bed afterwards, though. The trick will be for me to make it that long.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Friday, September 16, 2005
So quaint!
Having grown up in a church where the weekly attendence was more than the permanent population of many decent-sized suburbs, there are often things at our little 900 attendees church that strike me as being so quaint and traditional. Case in point: the photo directory. Dan and I just got back from having our picture taken for the directory, and Dan laughed at me when I mused about how fun it was to be in a small church. (Talk about relative: to Dan, this is a big church.) But honestly, to be able to print an entire church's membership in a booklet smaller than the Yellow Pages is such a foreign concept--and I LOVE it. I won't ever knock my church upbringing, despite how much I may disagree with certain aspects of it--bottom line is, my family is where it is because of that church, and I can't be grateful or thankful enough for it--but I have to say that the small church community is way more my speed. I love being able to recognize faces week after week, although it helps that I'm up on stage every other Sunday singing and can look at all those faces head-on, since otherwise my poor observational skills wouldn't remember half of them. I love it when the pastor can refer to a member by name and not have to give s hort biography of the person to give the name context--everyone already knows who he's talking about. I love that we have a Fellowship Hall, and that I've attended two birthday bashes there, because why not have your birthday party at the church? Everyone knows how to get there, and there's a kitchen and a sound system for the karaoke machine. I love that, when our child is born, we'll be able to appeal to the entire church body for their prayers and encouragement as we embark on first-time parenthood--and then know that people will actually come up and ask us how things are going and coo over our little bundle of joy.
The small church setting has its drawbacks, but I'd take those limitations over the endless resources of the megachurch anyday.
The small church setting has its drawbacks, but I'd take those limitations over the endless resources of the megachurch anyday.
Edits!
So I got my edits back from my editor on Monday, and I was shocked (and mucho relieved) at how little actual rewriting she wanted me to do. Good thing, though, since they want the changes back in to them by Monday. Still not entirely sure that's going to happen. I'm going through and doing all the easy changes, then I'll go back and do the more time-consuming stuff, but even after that is done I need to go through and input all the changes I wanted to make myself. The problem is, I still haven't finished reading through the manuscript. Ugh. So I'm feeling a little under the gun here. (Which should be obvious given I'm procrastinating.) TOmorrow Dan is at a seminar at school all day, so I'm going to spend the entire day working on it, although that's sort of the plan for today as well. Once I finish checking my email and reading all my favorite blogs, that is. :)
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Cancel your TiVo!
Well, we've been temporarily bumped from TBN--they wanted to focus the show on Katrina and wanted us to "minister to the victims"--not exactly something that is up my alley, or Dad's. When we explained that neither "Worlds Collide" nor "Case for a Creator" have a whole lot to say on the themes of natural disasters and losing all of one's possessions, they agreed that rescheduling us would probably be the best idea. When I get our new date, I'll let you know.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Set your TiVo!
If you're looking for some family entertainment, check out "Praise the Lord" on Sept. 15 at 6PM PST on TBN. My dad and I will be two of the featured guests on their live talk show discussing our latest books and who knows what else.
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Would love your input...
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Christmas Vacation!
Remember the first Monday of Christmas vacation, when you woke up and realized "Wow, vacation is really here; I really don't have to go to school for two whole weeks!" And then you throw off the covers and jump out of bed and your head fills up with all the things you can't wait to do now that you have time, and you're in the best mood, because your finals are through and your classes are done and when you go back to school it'll be a fresh start with new classes and people and schedules. Well, THAT is how I feel this morning--to the extent of swearing before I opened my eyes that there would be snow on the ground. (Although I don't remember ever being able to wear shorts and a tank top at Christmas. I'm pretty sure I heard rain in the middle of the night, though.) Having finished that rough draft took such a huge load off my shoulders. And even though the process is far from done--lots of editing still to come--I get a nice little break before I have to start, and I feel like I have all the time in the world.
So of course once it hit you that you had two whole weeks, you made a list, didn't you, of all the things you were going to do with your time. And so have I, although I don't quite know how much time I have, so the list is pretty flexible. But still, I love lists and wouldn't think of approaching this new time without one. On the list we have:
-plan a baby shower (no, not my own--for my friend Tania whose baby is due at Halloween)
-catch up on the laundry and get a new system going that does not allow the corner of our office to look like a dresser exploded (yes, the clothes are in the office because we turned the master bedroom into our office--who needs a giant room for a bed when all you do is sleep in there?)
-make all those get-together-for-coffee appointments I've been putting off
-clean the office
This last one is the source of night terrors for me. See, we don't really have any storage in that room--we have wonderful storage plans, just nothing actually done because that, of course, takes money. So, because we lack storage, we lack organization, and because we lack organization, every flat surface of that room becomes a catch-all for books, papers, pictures, office supplies, loose change, extra buttons--you name it. I've been using the recliner in the family room as my writing area (thank heavens for laptops!) for months because I can't actually see the surface of my desk. And actually, the space on the floor around my desk is just as bad, to where I can barely even get to the desk itself without risking life and limb. This simply must stop. I can't allow myself to continue like this any longer. A woman needs her creative space, and it really shouldn't be smack in front of the television.
So I'm totally pumped. I'm going to go ride the stationary bike upstairs for a bit, take my shower, do my quiet time, and then hit that list! Three cheers for pseudo-vacation!
So of course once it hit you that you had two whole weeks, you made a list, didn't you, of all the things you were going to do with your time. And so have I, although I don't quite know how much time I have, so the list is pretty flexible. But still, I love lists and wouldn't think of approaching this new time without one. On the list we have:
-plan a baby shower (no, not my own--for my friend Tania whose baby is due at Halloween)
-catch up on the laundry and get a new system going that does not allow the corner of our office to look like a dresser exploded (yes, the clothes are in the office because we turned the master bedroom into our office--who needs a giant room for a bed when all you do is sleep in there?)
-make all those get-together-for-coffee appointments I've been putting off
-clean the office
This last one is the source of night terrors for me. See, we don't really have any storage in that room--we have wonderful storage plans, just nothing actually done because that, of course, takes money. So, because we lack storage, we lack organization, and because we lack organization, every flat surface of that room becomes a catch-all for books, papers, pictures, office supplies, loose change, extra buttons--you name it. I've been using the recliner in the family room as my writing area (thank heavens for laptops!) for months because I can't actually see the surface of my desk. And actually, the space on the floor around my desk is just as bad, to where I can barely even get to the desk itself without risking life and limb. This simply must stop. I can't allow myself to continue like this any longer. A woman needs her creative space, and it really shouldn't be smack in front of the television.
So I'm totally pumped. I'm going to go ride the stationary bike upstairs for a bit, take my shower, do my quiet time, and then hit that list! Three cheers for pseudo-vacation!
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
HALLELUJAH!
Ladies and gentlemen, please note the date and time. 12:44 PM PST, August 30, 2005. 35 hours and fifteen minutes before my deadline.
THE BOOK IS DONE.
I can hardly believe it. This process has been so incredibly different from the first with "Worlds Collide," and not, sadly, in a good way. I'm really hoping the trend doesn't follow this one. I'm sure part of it was the difference between writing for the heck of it in my spare time versus writing under a deadline. But if this is going to be my career--and I'm really praying it is--I'm going to have to find a way to make this whole writing-under-a-deadline thing work.
Anyway. It's done and that's all I care about. I'm off to celebrate. Adios!
THE BOOK IS DONE.
I can hardly believe it. This process has been so incredibly different from the first with "Worlds Collide," and not, sadly, in a good way. I'm really hoping the trend doesn't follow this one. I'm sure part of it was the difference between writing for the heck of it in my spare time versus writing under a deadline. But if this is going to be my career--and I'm really praying it is--I'm going to have to find a way to make this whole writing-under-a-deadline thing work.
Anyway. It's done and that's all I care about. I'm off to celebrate. Adios!
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
My Kind of Town...the Aftermath
Ahhh, the food! And I got those chocolate crepes I was hoping for--they actually have them back on the menu! Woohoo! Anyway, I'm paying the price now...I gained four pounds over the last six days from all the glorious gastrological goodies I consumed. (Did I ever mention the four episodes of IHOP chocolate chip pancakes?) Oh well. Only a few more days and I'll be able to resume my morning walks around the lake, which will hopfully burn up some of that pizza...and chocolate...and Maggiano's...and more chocolate....
Monday, August 22, 2005
Oops.
So we managed to get through our entire trip without any major mistakes, things forgotten at home, etc. Well, almost all the way through--looks like I'll be getting a new computer soon.
We were returning the rental car to Alamo, and the place was a zoo. Cars everywhere, no staff to tell you what to do, and darnit, there's the bus that we'd really like to catch to the terminal so we have plenty of time for dinner before the flight. Finally someone shows up, and we hurry hurry through the check-out process, grab our stuff, and dash (or waddle quickly, if you're me) to the bus. We toss everything onto the luggage rack, sink into some seats, and then I realize something's missing.
"Dan! The computer! Where is it?!"
Off the bus he jumps and hits the ground running as the car is being pulled away to wherever it is they take returned rental cars. Luckily, the computer was not in the car--which got away before he could get to it--but had been left by both of us on the ground, each thinking the other was going to grab it. I see him bringing it back, and I sigh with relief, until he holds it up and says, "It got ran over."
Now, I've had this leather computer case for a couple years, and the leather has never broken in. A note to those of you looking for a way to make leather look old: run over it. Just once; don't even need to go over and over it. The thing looks fifteen years old.
Anyway, Dan pulls my little computer out and turns it over in his hands--"Looks good!" Nothing cracked, all in one piece. Whew!
Fast-forward seven and a half hours. We're back home, reveling in our Dish Network and squishy couch and the knowledge that we'll be sleeping in our own bed tonight. I pull out my brave little computer, flip it open, turn it on...
"Hm. What's with this two inch strip of screwed-up-ness smack in the middle of the screen?"
Yes, stretching all the way across the screen, and almost exactly centered, is...well...lines. They're a lovely turquoise, which is nice, because if you have to have a screen with a line in the middle that makes it impossible to see what's under it, you want it to be a pleasant shade.
Thank God, the rest of the computer is fine. Everything opens great, nothing has been deleted--I just have half a screen to work on, which sucks when your computer is only about seven inches tall in the first place.
So hey, DEFINITELY coulda been worse, but I have to admit, turquoise is ever-so-slowly starting to get on my nerves....
We were returning the rental car to Alamo, and the place was a zoo. Cars everywhere, no staff to tell you what to do, and darnit, there's the bus that we'd really like to catch to the terminal so we have plenty of time for dinner before the flight. Finally someone shows up, and we hurry hurry through the check-out process, grab our stuff, and dash (or waddle quickly, if you're me) to the bus. We toss everything onto the luggage rack, sink into some seats, and then I realize something's missing.
"Dan! The computer! Where is it?!"
Off the bus he jumps and hits the ground running as the car is being pulled away to wherever it is they take returned rental cars. Luckily, the computer was not in the car--which got away before he could get to it--but had been left by both of us on the ground, each thinking the other was going to grab it. I see him bringing it back, and I sigh with relief, until he holds it up and says, "It got ran over."
Now, I've had this leather computer case for a couple years, and the leather has never broken in. A note to those of you looking for a way to make leather look old: run over it. Just once; don't even need to go over and over it. The thing looks fifteen years old.
Anyway, Dan pulls my little computer out and turns it over in his hands--"Looks good!" Nothing cracked, all in one piece. Whew!
Fast-forward seven and a half hours. We're back home, reveling in our Dish Network and squishy couch and the knowledge that we'll be sleeping in our own bed tonight. I pull out my brave little computer, flip it open, turn it on...
"Hm. What's with this two inch strip of screwed-up-ness smack in the middle of the screen?"
Yes, stretching all the way across the screen, and almost exactly centered, is...well...lines. They're a lovely turquoise, which is nice, because if you have to have a screen with a line in the middle that makes it impossible to see what's under it, you want it to be a pleasant shade.
Thank God, the rest of the computer is fine. Everything opens great, nothing has been deleted--I just have half a screen to work on, which sucks when your computer is only about seven inches tall in the first place.
So hey, DEFINITELY coulda been worse, but I have to admit, turquoise is ever-so-slowly starting to get on my nerves....
The Wedding, Part 2
Last night was the second reception for Kyle and Kelli. It was SO much fun to see all the relatives and friends of the family--some of whom still hadn't met Dan, much less Kelli! We had it at Maggiano's--home of YUM--and despite some audio/visual issues, we were able to show everyone pictures of the wedding and of their honeymoon to Bampff, Canada. Of course, something always has to go awry, and unfortunately it was Kelli's parents who had to endure it--their luggage didn't make it to Chicago until 4 hours after they did! Of course, 4 hours after they got there is when the reception started, so they ended up having to shop at Woodfield Mall (luckily right near Maggiano's and their hotel) to get outfits to wear. But they handled the stress swimmingly and looking at them you never would have known anything was the matter, so that was a relief.
Dan and I left the reception around 9:30, by which time all the fun stuff (i.e. bookstores) had already closed, so we went back to the hotel to pack to come home. After we finished we realized we were hungry, so we went to our second home-away-from-home: the IHOP next door.
Oh my, the characters that show up at IHOP in the wee hours (it was midnight by the time we went over there) provide enough fodder for ten volumes of short stories. There was the family of 6--three kids, two parents, and an infant--whose table was next to ours. The three kids were falling asleep at the table, and the baby was wide awake. I wanted to go over and ask why the heck they were out so late, since the kids were obviously not pleased to be there. Then there was the guy behind us who had four--yes, four--full dinners lined up on his table. He was in the process of finishing a bowl of soup when we got there, and then all of a sudden a whole tray of food gets delivered to him. Fifteen minutes later we hear the waitress tell him, "Your chicken will be out in just a minute." So now it's up to five dinners. And a bowl of soup. And he wasn't a big guy, so I don't know where he was putting it all, although the why of the situation fascinates me a whole lot more. On the other side of the partition from us was an older gentleman, all alone, who sat drinking coffee and reading a book the whole time, and behind him were three Middle Eastern women with their beautiful head scarves, talking and laughing about someone's wedding--"When I got married, everyone cried. Even the men. Even my father cried!"
After consuming the fourth short stack of chocolate chip pancakes that I've had since we arrived here, we made our way back to the hotel for our final night. Words cannot describe how much I am looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight, with my own pillows--especially my muscle-saving body pillow. Hotel beds always, always suck--at least when you're on a $70/night budget.
Dan and I left the reception around 9:30, by which time all the fun stuff (i.e. bookstores) had already closed, so we went back to the hotel to pack to come home. After we finished we realized we were hungry, so we went to our second home-away-from-home: the IHOP next door.
Oh my, the characters that show up at IHOP in the wee hours (it was midnight by the time we went over there) provide enough fodder for ten volumes of short stories. There was the family of 6--three kids, two parents, and an infant--whose table was next to ours. The three kids were falling asleep at the table, and the baby was wide awake. I wanted to go over and ask why the heck they were out so late, since the kids were obviously not pleased to be there. Then there was the guy behind us who had four--yes, four--full dinners lined up on his table. He was in the process of finishing a bowl of soup when we got there, and then all of a sudden a whole tray of food gets delivered to him. Fifteen minutes later we hear the waitress tell him, "Your chicken will be out in just a minute." So now it's up to five dinners. And a bowl of soup. And he wasn't a big guy, so I don't know where he was putting it all, although the why of the situation fascinates me a whole lot more. On the other side of the partition from us was an older gentleman, all alone, who sat drinking coffee and reading a book the whole time, and behind him were three Middle Eastern women with their beautiful head scarves, talking and laughing about someone's wedding--"When I got married, everyone cried. Even the men. Even my father cried!"
After consuming the fourth short stack of chocolate chip pancakes that I've had since we arrived here, we made our way back to the hotel for our final night. Words cannot describe how much I am looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight, with my own pillows--especially my muscle-saving body pillow. Hotel beds always, always suck--at least when you're on a $70/night budget.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
My Kind of Town...
Dan and I have been in Chicago since Tuesday. Actually, to be specific, we've been in the northwest suburbs, a.k.a. my old stomping ground, since Tuesday--we've yet to actually make it into the city. We had all sorts of grand plans for touring Chi-town, but with the Air & Water show going on, it's a zoo out there!
So far the bulk of the trip has revolved around two things: food and friends. There were/are still lots of people who haven't even met Dan yet, so we've been doing a lot of meet & greets with my old high school & church friends. We've also been gobbling up all the great food that California just doesn't have. For example:
1. Chin's Crab House: this place is phenomenal in every sense of the word. Fantastic seafood, and fantastic steaks, too--in fact, they sell more steak than any other restaurant in the city! Delicious egg rolls, which we consumed two baskets of, and the fried jumbo shimp...oh my heavens!!
2. Edwardo's Chicago Pizza: okay, I will admit there are, like, three variations on Chicago-style pizza, but I'm sorry, California just doesn't have any of them, despite some valiant efforts. Edwardo's is my all-time favorite. The outside crust is a good two inches tall, and you've never seen so much cheese!! The Strobel family favorite is spinach with mushrooms and Canadian bacon. I had three pieces. I felt like a junkie getting a fix after being in rehab--I just couldn't stop! Of course, I still had room for dessert--I've always claimed to have a separate dessert stomach--so we also went to...
3. Oberweiss Dairy: forget all that low-fat or low-carb ice cream crap. This place uses FULL CREAM and MAN is it good! Peanut butter & chocolate was my choice, and wow. WOW. Head & shoulders above 31 Flavors, or anything you can get in the grocery store.
4. Okay, well, I haven't done this one yet, and there's a chance I won't get to, but I'm going to really try!! Walker Brothers Pancake House used to have a crepe breakfast of chocolate filled crepes with strawberries and whipped cream on top. Now, they took it off the menu after I moved (I was probably the only person left in the world who thought that an acceptable breakfast), but every time I go there I explain how it was always my favorite and ask the waitress to beg the chef to take mercy on me. So far they always have! I'm going to try to get there tomorrow for breakfast, but only if I can find someone to go with me.
On a completely unrelated note: 91 octane gas is $3.11 up the street from our hotel. I was in shock. Thankfully our little Grand Am rental takes the cheap stuff, but I really was surprised--it was the first time I've seen stuff like that more expensive here than in California. (Although, I suppose the prices might have gone up since we left. Man, I hope not. It was taking over forty bucks to fill our Murano when it was under three dollars!)
So far the bulk of the trip has revolved around two things: food and friends. There were/are still lots of people who haven't even met Dan yet, so we've been doing a lot of meet & greets with my old high school & church friends. We've also been gobbling up all the great food that California just doesn't have. For example:
1. Chin's Crab House: this place is phenomenal in every sense of the word. Fantastic seafood, and fantastic steaks, too--in fact, they sell more steak than any other restaurant in the city! Delicious egg rolls, which we consumed two baskets of, and the fried jumbo shimp...oh my heavens!!
2. Edwardo's Chicago Pizza: okay, I will admit there are, like, three variations on Chicago-style pizza, but I'm sorry, California just doesn't have any of them, despite some valiant efforts. Edwardo's is my all-time favorite. The outside crust is a good two inches tall, and you've never seen so much cheese!! The Strobel family favorite is spinach with mushrooms and Canadian bacon. I had three pieces. I felt like a junkie getting a fix after being in rehab--I just couldn't stop! Of course, I still had room for dessert--I've always claimed to have a separate dessert stomach--so we also went to...
3. Oberweiss Dairy: forget all that low-fat or low-carb ice cream crap. This place uses FULL CREAM and MAN is it good! Peanut butter & chocolate was my choice, and wow. WOW. Head & shoulders above 31 Flavors, or anything you can get in the grocery store.
4. Okay, well, I haven't done this one yet, and there's a chance I won't get to, but I'm going to really try!! Walker Brothers Pancake House used to have a crepe breakfast of chocolate filled crepes with strawberries and whipped cream on top. Now, they took it off the menu after I moved (I was probably the only person left in the world who thought that an acceptable breakfast), but every time I go there I explain how it was always my favorite and ask the waitress to beg the chef to take mercy on me. So far they always have! I'm going to try to get there tomorrow for breakfast, but only if I can find someone to go with me.
On a completely unrelated note: 91 octane gas is $3.11 up the street from our hotel. I was in shock. Thankfully our little Grand Am rental takes the cheap stuff, but I really was surprised--it was the first time I've seen stuff like that more expensive here than in California. (Although, I suppose the prices might have gone up since we left. Man, I hope not. It was taking over forty bucks to fill our Murano when it was under three dollars!)
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Another August Anniversary
Congratulations to Kyle and Kelli! Yesterday my brother married the coolest girl in the world. It was a beautiful wedding in the scorching heat of Bakersfield, California. (We all thought a 10 AM wedding would avoid it, and while I'm sure it avoided the worst of it, it certainly wasn't what you'd call cool outside, although the wedding party got the best deal--we got to stand in the shade).
It's a weird thing to see your little brother wax eloquent about his new bride. He was such a grown-up! IS such a grown-up. I have a hard time believing that sometimes. When you've got years of stored up memories about the goofy kid who made a cottage industry out of trading ("I'll trade you that stereo for..." Actually, I don't know what he ever offered in his trades, he never had anything good--yet he always managed to make out like a bandit. And this was in, like, fourth grade!), who sported silk shirts and Cavaricci pants in junior high, who made mixed tapes with the best romantic songs ever and titled them things like, "Songs That Remind Me I Have No One," it's hard to envision him now as a man with a wife and a real life of his own.
I was a mess at the wedding. I suppose this shouldn't have come as a surprise to me, given the emotional basket case I've been lately. But the worst part is that the tears just would not stop! It started the minute I got to my spot in the shade, staring at the guests as everyone else came down the aisle, got worse when they exchanged their beautiful vows, hit critical when they took communion together and Kyle whispered a prayer into her ear, and, if I'd been smart, I would have found a secret place somewhere and just let it all out. But no, I had to try to be a strong woman and cork the tears and soldier on. WHATEVER. Into the reception and again I'm foiled: the toasts from Kelli's father and my brother, the speeches by various wedding party members (I'd planned on saying a few words--yeah right) and then the wedding party dance, which I got to dance with my husband. Yeah, a dance, that got me going again. Pathetic. Weep weep weep, sniff sniff sniff, blubber, blubber, blubber. Gag me.
But it was worth it. Now I have a sister! Always wanted one of those, but luckily we got each other without the messy adolescent years of hating each other and constantly competing for Mom and Dad's attention. :) I'm so blessed to have a sister-in-law that I not only get along with, but that I love. So, Kelli, welcome to the family. It takes a special person to blend in with our nutty clan, and you've got just the right combination of practicality, sense of humor, and quirkiness to make it. I can't wait to get to know you better, and I'm so thankful God brought you and Kyle together. We love you, Mrs. Strobel!
It's a weird thing to see your little brother wax eloquent about his new bride. He was such a grown-up! IS such a grown-up. I have a hard time believing that sometimes. When you've got years of stored up memories about the goofy kid who made a cottage industry out of trading ("I'll trade you that stereo for..." Actually, I don't know what he ever offered in his trades, he never had anything good--yet he always managed to make out like a bandit. And this was in, like, fourth grade!), who sported silk shirts and Cavaricci pants in junior high, who made mixed tapes with the best romantic songs ever and titled them things like, "Songs That Remind Me I Have No One," it's hard to envision him now as a man with a wife and a real life of his own.
I was a mess at the wedding. I suppose this shouldn't have come as a surprise to me, given the emotional basket case I've been lately. But the worst part is that the tears just would not stop! It started the minute I got to my spot in the shade, staring at the guests as everyone else came down the aisle, got worse when they exchanged their beautiful vows, hit critical when they took communion together and Kyle whispered a prayer into her ear, and, if I'd been smart, I would have found a secret place somewhere and just let it all out. But no, I had to try to be a strong woman and cork the tears and soldier on. WHATEVER. Into the reception and again I'm foiled: the toasts from Kelli's father and my brother, the speeches by various wedding party members (I'd planned on saying a few words--yeah right) and then the wedding party dance, which I got to dance with my husband. Yeah, a dance, that got me going again. Pathetic. Weep weep weep, sniff sniff sniff, blubber, blubber, blubber. Gag me.
But it was worth it. Now I have a sister! Always wanted one of those, but luckily we got each other without the messy adolescent years of hating each other and constantly competing for Mom and Dad's attention. :) I'm so blessed to have a sister-in-law that I not only get along with, but that I love. So, Kelli, welcome to the family. It takes a special person to blend in with our nutty clan, and you've got just the right combination of practicality, sense of humor, and quirkiness to make it. I can't wait to get to know you better, and I'm so thankful God brought you and Kyle together. We love you, Mrs. Strobel!
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Happy Anniversary!
Wow. Today marks the end of Dan's and my second year of marriage. I can't believe it's already been two years. And on Saturday my brother, Kyle, will get married to the totally awesome Kelli, and on Friday Mom and Dad celebrate their 33rd year of holy matrimony. August is definitely the month for weddings in the Strobel household.
Dan and I are pretty much broke at the moment, so we promised each other no gifts. Dan, of course, cheated--he did this last year, too--and bought me a beautiful purple orchid and a gift bag filled with all sorts of silly goodies that are not romantic in and of themselves, but are romantic in that they show how attentive and observant he is of me and the things I like and need. I came down for a 2 AM bowl of cereal and saw them sitting on the counter and, being the emotional wreck I am these days (thanks, hormones), burst into tears and blubbered my way through my Corn Pops.
I think I was able to make up for not having gotten him something, though--check out My Pregnancy Blog to see the picture that was waiting for him on his desk when he got up this morning....
Dan and I are pretty much broke at the moment, so we promised each other no gifts. Dan, of course, cheated--he did this last year, too--and bought me a beautiful purple orchid and a gift bag filled with all sorts of silly goodies that are not romantic in and of themselves, but are romantic in that they show how attentive and observant he is of me and the things I like and need. I came down for a 2 AM bowl of cereal and saw them sitting on the counter and, being the emotional wreck I am these days (thanks, hormones), burst into tears and blubbered my way through my Corn Pops.
I think I was able to make up for not having gotten him something, though--check out My Pregnancy Blog to see the picture that was waiting for him on his desk when he got up this morning....
Monday, August 01, 2005
Halfway there!
Well, I officially surpassed the halfway mark for my minimum word requirement on my current manuscript! Unfortunately I think I'm more than halfway through, outline-wise, so I'm going to have to start stretching these last chapters. :) If I write 2000 words a day for the next three weeks, I'll reach my goal of finishing the book by the end of the month. (Well, clarification: if the story only last for 70,000 words, then I'll be done by the end of the month. If it takes longer, I'm screwed.) Hallelujah for flexible editors, though; Shannon said she'd work with me if I didn't quite make it by September 1. I think I can do it, though.
We leave the 16th for a week in Chicago--my little brother (heh, little--he's 27) gets married the 13th here in California, then we're all schlepping to Chicago for a second reception for everyone who can't make it out here the 13th. Dan and I are turning it into a little vacation, so we're going out early to be tourists and for him to meet all my friends out there that he still hasn't met after two years. (Our anniversary is the 9th of this month!!) I won't be able to write that week, but I'm going to do something I haven't done before with a manuscript, and that's print it out and read it like a book instead of just reading it off my computer. I figure I'm always editing the books I read without a problem, so maybe it'll be easier editing my own stuff if it's on paper and not on a screen. We'll see if it works. If nothing else, it'll give me something to do on the plane.
We leave the 16th for a week in Chicago--my little brother (heh, little--he's 27) gets married the 13th here in California, then we're all schlepping to Chicago for a second reception for everyone who can't make it out here the 13th. Dan and I are turning it into a little vacation, so we're going out early to be tourists and for him to meet all my friends out there that he still hasn't met after two years. (Our anniversary is the 9th of this month!!) I won't be able to write that week, but I'm going to do something I haven't done before with a manuscript, and that's print it out and read it like a book instead of just reading it off my computer. I figure I'm always editing the books I read without a problem, so maybe it'll be easier editing my own stuff if it's on paper and not on a screen. We'll see if it works. If nothing else, it'll give me something to do on the plane.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Fun new test!
Oh, my favorite...here's a great grammar, punctuation, and vocabulary test. Think you know the English language well? Test yourself. Here are my results:
You did so extremely well, even I can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly! Way to go!
Now I have to go look at the answer key and figure out which one(s) I screwed up!
You did so extremely well, even I can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly! Way to go!
Now I have to go look at the answer key and figure out which one(s) I screwed up!
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Feelin' hot hot hot
Dan and I drove out to Vegas again this past Wednesday to hang out with his brother and his family. The original plan was to drive to the Grand Canyon while we were there--his brother just bought a Honda Oddessy and it's got the cool DVD player and super comfy seating--but after a bit more research we decided to save it for a time when we could spend the night there at one of the lodges and really take the place in. So instead we just hung out at their place.
We like their place. It's homey and comfortable, the AC is always cranked, and there's endless fun now that Simon is two and a half. Man, is that kid's vocabulary growing! And it's so cute, he says everything twice: "Play legos play legos?" "Wanna eat wanna eat?" "Where go where go?" He's being potty-trained, so they've got his little potty set up in the living room where he does most of his playing, and when he's gone he'll jump up and throw his hands in the air and shout, "I did it!" like he just ran a triathalon or something. It's hilarious.
He also does this intense love-you thing where he just gets so incredibly excited that you're there and playing with him that his eyes get all big and his face looks almost violent, and he'll just squeeze your cheeks or arm or leg or whatever is closest. It's hilarious. Until he pinches hard--kid's strong for two years old!
So anyway, Vegas, being in the desert and all, was FREAKING HOT. Like, unbelievably, indescribably hot. At one point our car's thermometer said 120. Sometimes the a/c would be on full-blast and wouldn't feel at ALL cold. You could practically feel your body losing moisture. Every day was at least 105. It was a truly incredible experience. I don't know how people can live there, honestly. I mean, I suppose you get used to it when you've been there your whole life, or if you are there longer than 4 days at a time like us. But wow...there are some things I really just don't want to have to "get used to," and feeling as though the soles of my shoes are melting to the pavement is one of them.
So once again I am so happy to live where I live. Today it was in the low 80's, which didn't feel nearly as hot as it usually does given the heat we were in yesterday. But now the sun is slowly setting and the temperature is dipping; the windows and doors are open and we have a nice breeze floating through. Beautiful. California is so cool. :)
We like their place. It's homey and comfortable, the AC is always cranked, and there's endless fun now that Simon is two and a half. Man, is that kid's vocabulary growing! And it's so cute, he says everything twice: "Play legos play legos?" "Wanna eat wanna eat?" "Where go where go?" He's being potty-trained, so they've got his little potty set up in the living room where he does most of his playing, and when he's gone he'll jump up and throw his hands in the air and shout, "I did it!" like he just ran a triathalon or something. It's hilarious.
He also does this intense love-you thing where he just gets so incredibly excited that you're there and playing with him that his eyes get all big and his face looks almost violent, and he'll just squeeze your cheeks or arm or leg or whatever is closest. It's hilarious. Until he pinches hard--kid's strong for two years old!
So anyway, Vegas, being in the desert and all, was FREAKING HOT. Like, unbelievably, indescribably hot. At one point our car's thermometer said 120. Sometimes the a/c would be on full-blast and wouldn't feel at ALL cold. You could practically feel your body losing moisture. Every day was at least 105. It was a truly incredible experience. I don't know how people can live there, honestly. I mean, I suppose you get used to it when you've been there your whole life, or if you are there longer than 4 days at a time like us. But wow...there are some things I really just don't want to have to "get used to," and feeling as though the soles of my shoes are melting to the pavement is one of them.
So once again I am so happy to live where I live. Today it was in the low 80's, which didn't feel nearly as hot as it usually does given the heat we were in yesterday. But now the sun is slowly setting and the temperature is dipping; the windows and doors are open and we have a nice breeze floating through. Beautiful. California is so cool. :)
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
CBA
This weekend I was in Denver to meet with all sorts of various folks before the onslaught of the CBA convention madness. (CBA = Christian Bookseller's Association) The convention actually started at the same time I was boarding a SuperShuttle to go back to the airport and come home, so I missed out on touring the convention floor and snatching up all the wacky freebies at the exhibitor booths. But I did have some fantastic meetings and managed to get my name and book out there to some retailers, so hopefully that will help sales in some small way. I was given a super-tenative, super-ballpark figure for my current sales, and found that I need to sell about 11,000 more units before I break into royalties. Oi. Hopefully that was a lowballed figure!
The best part of the weekend, by far, was the total miracle God wrought in my stomach. Ever since I was 6 I've suffered from motion sickness when I fly. I've always just popped some Dramamine and been fine, but you can't take it when you're pregnant, so I was totally freaking out about the flight. And then it turned out I had layovers both on the way there and the way back, which meant a total of 4 takeoffs and 4 landings. Needless to say, I was convinced I'd be puking my way to the Mile High City and back. Before I left, Dan and I raided Wal*Mart for snacks, my theory being, if I gave my stomach something to chew on, I wouldn't get nauseated. So my carry on bag was filled to the brim with Goldfish crackers, Combos, peanut M&M's, Pringles, Finding Nemo fruit snacks, and those little mini boxes of cereal.
On the way to the airport, my mom told me to concentrate on deep breathing, so I didn't get myself all nervous and worked up. I figured, between the food, the pressure bracelet thingies I bought, and the breathing, I might just make it.
I completely forgot to wear the pressure bracelets, and I hardly ate anything on the flight, but it didn't even matter: I didn't get sick at all!! I put on my Walkman, cranked up Simon & Garfunkel's Greatest Hits (almost always the first thing I listen to when I fly) and settled back into my deep breathing, and PRAYED LIKE MAD that I wouldn't get sick. AND I DIDN'T.
Now, you need to understand that, typically, I'll still feel a little queazy when I take the Dramamine. But this time there was nothing, except for a teensy bit on the way home when we hit some crazy turbulence. Usually that would have had my face in one of those throw-up bags, but not this time! I am convinved that God had mercy on my poor weak tummy and totally hooked me up. He's so freaking awesome!
'Course, now I have an entire bag of snacks. Anyone hungry?
The best part of the weekend, by far, was the total miracle God wrought in my stomach. Ever since I was 6 I've suffered from motion sickness when I fly. I've always just popped some Dramamine and been fine, but you can't take it when you're pregnant, so I was totally freaking out about the flight. And then it turned out I had layovers both on the way there and the way back, which meant a total of 4 takeoffs and 4 landings. Needless to say, I was convinced I'd be puking my way to the Mile High City and back. Before I left, Dan and I raided Wal*Mart for snacks, my theory being, if I gave my stomach something to chew on, I wouldn't get nauseated. So my carry on bag was filled to the brim with Goldfish crackers, Combos, peanut M&M's, Pringles, Finding Nemo fruit snacks, and those little mini boxes of cereal.
On the way to the airport, my mom told me to concentrate on deep breathing, so I didn't get myself all nervous and worked up. I figured, between the food, the pressure bracelet thingies I bought, and the breathing, I might just make it.
I completely forgot to wear the pressure bracelets, and I hardly ate anything on the flight, but it didn't even matter: I didn't get sick at all!! I put on my Walkman, cranked up Simon & Garfunkel's Greatest Hits (almost always the first thing I listen to when I fly) and settled back into my deep breathing, and PRAYED LIKE MAD that I wouldn't get sick. AND I DIDN'T.
Now, you need to understand that, typically, I'll still feel a little queazy when I take the Dramamine. But this time there was nothing, except for a teensy bit on the way home when we hit some crazy turbulence. Usually that would have had my face in one of those throw-up bags, but not this time! I am convinved that God had mercy on my poor weak tummy and totally hooked me up. He's so freaking awesome!
'Course, now I have an entire bag of snacks. Anyone hungry?
Monday, July 04, 2005
God Bless the USA
I can hear two different fireworks shows in the general vicinity, and the neighbors in the house behind ours must be up on their balcony watching, because they keep cheering and shouting, "Higher!" Then, just a minute ago, they started singing the National Anthem. How cool. I love it when stuff like that happens.
Last night Dan and I went for a walk around the RSM Lake, and people had already laid out their picnic blankets and lawn chairs to stake their spot for the show tonight. I love that I live in a place where you can leave your stuff there overnight and not worry about it being gone in the morning. Today when we drove by it looked like a giant crazy quilt with big green gaps where people knew you couldn't see the show well and the grass was still clear. A couple years ago Dan and I claimed a spot around noon and spent the whole day there, playing Boggle and Scrabble and Yahtzee and cards and eating picnic meals, then watched with the rest of the city as the fireworks exploded over the lake. I'm such a sucker for fireworks, don't ask me why. For some reason they're romantic to me. Last year we listened to the explosions while playing badmitton in the backyard (lit with tiki torches at the corners of the court) as the neighbor kids above us gave a running commentary of what they could see from their balcony. This year we watched the Angels lose on TV and I paid bills. Geez, we sound like old geezers.
Next year we'll have a six-month-old and who knows what the heck we'll be doing. Probably not watching a fireworks show since the kid would freak out at the noise, I'm sure. But how weird is that? That at this time next year our baby will already be six months old. I was nearly walking at six months. I can't imagine chasing a baby around that early. Heck, I can't imagine having a baby!
But anyway, I digress, which seems to happen a lot these days. Chalk it up to a distracted one-track mind. The reason I was writing originally was to say: Happy Birthday USA. Thank you, President Bush. God bless you, men and women of the US military, who have to deal with crap not only in other countries but then here at home, too. I don't care what you think about the war: support the people doing their jobs in fighting it. They knew what they were getting into, they weren't drafted, they weren't coerced, and face it, Hussein was hardly a benevolent leader. Just because things aren't going as well as hoped doesn't mean we shouldn't have gone there in the first place. If our government went militant on us, I'd want someone to come rescue us, too.
Okay, so, I'm off the soapbox now and off to bed. Sleep well tonight knowing you're in a free country. God bless the USA....
Last night Dan and I went for a walk around the RSM Lake, and people had already laid out their picnic blankets and lawn chairs to stake their spot for the show tonight. I love that I live in a place where you can leave your stuff there overnight and not worry about it being gone in the morning. Today when we drove by it looked like a giant crazy quilt with big green gaps where people knew you couldn't see the show well and the grass was still clear. A couple years ago Dan and I claimed a spot around noon and spent the whole day there, playing Boggle and Scrabble and Yahtzee and cards and eating picnic meals, then watched with the rest of the city as the fireworks exploded over the lake. I'm such a sucker for fireworks, don't ask me why. For some reason they're romantic to me. Last year we listened to the explosions while playing badmitton in the backyard (lit with tiki torches at the corners of the court) as the neighbor kids above us gave a running commentary of what they could see from their balcony. This year we watched the Angels lose on TV and I paid bills. Geez, we sound like old geezers.
Next year we'll have a six-month-old and who knows what the heck we'll be doing. Probably not watching a fireworks show since the kid would freak out at the noise, I'm sure. But how weird is that? That at this time next year our baby will already be six months old. I was nearly walking at six months. I can't imagine chasing a baby around that early. Heck, I can't imagine having a baby!
But anyway, I digress, which seems to happen a lot these days. Chalk it up to a distracted one-track mind. The reason I was writing originally was to say: Happy Birthday USA. Thank you, President Bush. God bless you, men and women of the US military, who have to deal with crap not only in other countries but then here at home, too. I don't care what you think about the war: support the people doing their jobs in fighting it. They knew what they were getting into, they weren't drafted, they weren't coerced, and face it, Hussein was hardly a benevolent leader. Just because things aren't going as well as hoped doesn't mean we shouldn't have gone there in the first place. If our government went militant on us, I'd want someone to come rescue us, too.
Okay, so, I'm off the soapbox now and off to bed. Sleep well tonight knowing you're in a free country. God bless the USA....
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
New 'do
Well, I had this great haircut--the one in the photos on my website and in my profile here--but sadly it proved too complicated for someone as un-hair-savvy as myself. Plus thanks to the fact that my hair has been growing like crazy thanks to prenatal vitamins, I was having perpetual bad hair days. So yesterday I went under the scissors and chopped it off--the longest bit is now just at my chin, and pretty much all the layers are gone.
Changing my hair has always been one of my favorite ways to break up the relative monotony of my life. From haircuts to dyeing, I've never been shy when it comes to my hair. It's been past my shoulders and less than three inches long, stick straight and permed, burgandy and blond streaked and shoe polish black. And every once in a while it's the dull dark brown with a slight wave that I was born with.
But one of the many compromises of marriage has manifested itself in the way I fashion my hair. Now there's someone that I want to please and whose opinion I value. And frankly, he's got to look at me a lot more often than I do. So I can't just make a spur-of-the-moment appointment at the salon to have it all chopped off, can't swing by Target on the way home from wherever and pick up a bottle of Natural Instincts Spiced Tea temporary color. It's a small compromise, but a compromise nonetheless, and sometimes it chafes. But compared to the payoff of marriage, it's something I deal with.
And now, with Baby M on the way, I've been thinking about how weird it might be for my kid(s) to come home from school one day and see Mommy with red hair, or permed hair, or hardly any hair at all--all within one school year. And when my five-year-old emerges from her bedroom with scissors in her hand and a whole new 'do of her own, would I really be able to blame her? How about when my eight-year-old wants to dye his hair blue?
So the hair is short, and straight, and brown.
For now. :)
Changing my hair has always been one of my favorite ways to break up the relative monotony of my life. From haircuts to dyeing, I've never been shy when it comes to my hair. It's been past my shoulders and less than three inches long, stick straight and permed, burgandy and blond streaked and shoe polish black. And every once in a while it's the dull dark brown with a slight wave that I was born with.
But one of the many compromises of marriage has manifested itself in the way I fashion my hair. Now there's someone that I want to please and whose opinion I value. And frankly, he's got to look at me a lot more often than I do. So I can't just make a spur-of-the-moment appointment at the salon to have it all chopped off, can't swing by Target on the way home from wherever and pick up a bottle of Natural Instincts Spiced Tea temporary color. It's a small compromise, but a compromise nonetheless, and sometimes it chafes. But compared to the payoff of marriage, it's something I deal with.
And now, with Baby M on the way, I've been thinking about how weird it might be for my kid(s) to come home from school one day and see Mommy with red hair, or permed hair, or hardly any hair at all--all within one school year. And when my five-year-old emerges from her bedroom with scissors in her hand and a whole new 'do of her own, would I really be able to blame her? How about when my eight-year-old wants to dye his hair blue?
So the hair is short, and straight, and brown.
For now. :)
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