I didn't think I would get so excited over it. But as Friday afternoon rolled around and I found myself wandering through Barnes and Noble, the displays started to really excite me. I got home and grabbed Kelly by the shoulders--"I'm so freakin' excited!" I think we weirded out the 10 people staying with us that night. I guess after 6 books, countless pages, countless hours invested, it seems like their world is somewhat real. It feels like I know them, and that takes a talented author.
I wasn't even going to start the book until today because I had too much unpacking to do, but Saturday night rolled around and I found myself at my parents' house with a rather tempting looking package on the counter and not much else on my schedule. The cover is beautiful, and Kelly pointed out that it's interesting that the other covers got darker and more sinister while this one was full of warm, bright colors. I love it. I was only going to read for an hour and a half. I don't know who I was kidding. I was up until 1:20 and then finished it during breakfast the next morning. Six hours total.
I won't ruin it for those of you who haven't read it. In fact, I want to read it again soon just to cement it in my head. But it was wonderful. More intricate than I would have thought, but not more than I should have expected. More than a few surprises, but a few things I had already guessed. It was a fitting end to a 10 year journey. It seems weird that I would get so wrapped up in so-called children's books, and it's hard to justify with words. My love for reading only goes so far to explain it. I'm sure Jo's talent goes much further. So well-thought-out from the beginning, which is part of why I love it, because I love mystery and conspiracy and detailed plans. Truly a marvelously told story.
Give her hell from us, Peeves.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Thursday, July 19, 2007
A little more
What I do I don't want to do and so goes the story...
Show me grace.
Sorry, that's all I can do for now.
Show me grace.
Sorry, that's all I can do for now.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Crazy? I was crazy once...
Some numbers for you...158 miles, $2,600, 13 hours, 8,500 calories burned...probably 8,500 calories eaten.
I know why Lance always threatened to quit after the Tour, and why he decided it wasn't a good idea to make that decision right after crossing the finish line, or probably within a month of doing it. I'm exhausted. I'm not even sure it's the good kind of exhausted. If I had known what I was getting myself into in terms of the number and severity of the hills, would I have done it? Even knowing why I was doing it? I don't know. And I'm sure much of that is the pessimism speaking, which weighed on my most of yesterday and nearly all of today, with the brief exception of riding by a church bulletin board that said "Stop worrying." So I did. But that didn't stop the pain. If this is the kind of pain and hopelessness that MS sufferers experience, then it was all worth it. Worth it to feel it for them, worth it to bring awareness, to honor them, to raise money for a cure, etc. I'm thinking I didn't mentally and spiritually prepare for this battle...at least that's a better excuse than "I'm a negative, selfish, weak person." Because that's how I felt on the ride. Imagine doing squats for 10 minutes straight (or better yet, do it), and then imagine taking your bike up 285 several miles and you'll gather some semblance of what my quads felt like. And it's hard to stay mentally strong when you see the next hill, or the grown men walking their bikes up said hill, or thinking that geez, you still have 60 miles left.
However, am I proud to say I did it? Of course. Were there miles where I thought, man I love doing this, I could do it all day long? Few and far between, but yes. Was it uplifting to see over 3,000 riders together for the same cause, to see the names of their heroes pinned to their backs and to know they, too, were riding for someone special? Definitely. Was I so glad to be done? You have no idea.
On a nearly completely unrelated note, we went to Carrabba's for dinner last night to fuel up for the ride ahead. Always sit at the pasta bar...well, unless you're planning on having hours of deep conversation with your dinner companions. But at least once, do it. You're seated right away, even on a night with a 35 minute wait. You get to watch them make pizzas and flaming mussels. You get appetizers on the house, great service, great food, and plenty of it, and the chef will even tell you that it's the kahlua and rum that make the tiramisu taste like that (the people next to us had it, not us). Thoroughly enjoyable, which you probably saw coming because my love for food is no secret. Also, officially now, chicken canneloni is my favorite Italian dish, and that's saying something, since I've decided that though I'm 1/8 Greek, 1/8 Irish, and nearly 3/4 German by blood, I'm pretty much 100% Italian by heart. And stomach.
I know why Lance always threatened to quit after the Tour, and why he decided it wasn't a good idea to make that decision right after crossing the finish line, or probably within a month of doing it. I'm exhausted. I'm not even sure it's the good kind of exhausted. If I had known what I was getting myself into in terms of the number and severity of the hills, would I have done it? Even knowing why I was doing it? I don't know. And I'm sure much of that is the pessimism speaking, which weighed on my most of yesterday and nearly all of today, with the brief exception of riding by a church bulletin board that said "Stop worrying." So I did. But that didn't stop the pain. If this is the kind of pain and hopelessness that MS sufferers experience, then it was all worth it. Worth it to feel it for them, worth it to bring awareness, to honor them, to raise money for a cure, etc. I'm thinking I didn't mentally and spiritually prepare for this battle...at least that's a better excuse than "I'm a negative, selfish, weak person." Because that's how I felt on the ride. Imagine doing squats for 10 minutes straight (or better yet, do it), and then imagine taking your bike up 285 several miles and you'll gather some semblance of what my quads felt like. And it's hard to stay mentally strong when you see the next hill, or the grown men walking their bikes up said hill, or thinking that geez, you still have 60 miles left.
However, am I proud to say I did it? Of course. Were there miles where I thought, man I love doing this, I could do it all day long? Few and far between, but yes. Was it uplifting to see over 3,000 riders together for the same cause, to see the names of their heroes pinned to their backs and to know they, too, were riding for someone special? Definitely. Was I so glad to be done? You have no idea.
On a nearly completely unrelated note, we went to Carrabba's for dinner last night to fuel up for the ride ahead. Always sit at the pasta bar...well, unless you're planning on having hours of deep conversation with your dinner companions. But at least once, do it. You're seated right away, even on a night with a 35 minute wait. You get to watch them make pizzas and flaming mussels. You get appetizers on the house, great service, great food, and plenty of it, and the chef will even tell you that it's the kahlua and rum that make the tiramisu taste like that (the people next to us had it, not us). Thoroughly enjoyable, which you probably saw coming because my love for food is no secret. Also, officially now, chicken canneloni is my favorite Italian dish, and that's saying something, since I've decided that though I'm 1/8 Greek, 1/8 Irish, and nearly 3/4 German by blood, I'm pretty much 100% Italian by heart. And stomach.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
I will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart
Tomorrow is my parents' 30th anniversary, yay for them. We spent the weekend in Estes Park celebrating, and I have to say that I enjoyed myself quite a bit. Lots of good food, good hiking, my funny mother who thinks ducks aren't birds, and The Godfather. What's not to love? It's weird to think of my parents BC (before children). The stories we get to hear are few and far between, and that's unfortunate, because I think it's important, at least for me, to be able to picture my parents in my shoes now, a young adult, discerning my vocation. To hear my mom tell stories of my dad, she thought he was both wonderful and totally dorky, which is a fairly valid assessment I think.
This morning the priest at Mass was talking about vocations, and it was more the subject matter than anything specific that he said, but I found myself wondering if the reason I haven't discovered my vocation (besides not praying enough) is because I still don't trust God with it. I thought I did, but every time I think about taking a step towards married or single life (I have at least discerned the religious life is not for me), I hesitate. I neither trust that God can bring someone into my life who will love me enough to marry me and fulfill all of my seemingly insurmountable expectations, nor do I trust that if I am called to be single, God can make me truly happy. So I guess that's what I take to prayer. Maybe once I learn to trust, God's plan will just fall into place. Because at least I have faith enough to believe that He does have something incredible in store for me. I just don't know what it is yet.
This morning the priest at Mass was talking about vocations, and it was more the subject matter than anything specific that he said, but I found myself wondering if the reason I haven't discovered my vocation (besides not praying enough) is because I still don't trust God with it. I thought I did, but every time I think about taking a step towards married or single life (I have at least discerned the religious life is not for me), I hesitate. I neither trust that God can bring someone into my life who will love me enough to marry me and fulfill all of my seemingly insurmountable expectations, nor do I trust that if I am called to be single, God can make me truly happy. So I guess that's what I take to prayer. Maybe once I learn to trust, God's plan will just fall into place. Because at least I have faith enough to believe that He does have something incredible in store for me. I just don't know what it is yet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)