If there is one important thing to know about me, it's that I hate frogs. And I'm not sure the word hate is even sufficient. It might be more fitting to use loathe entirely.
In fact, frogs are pretty much the only reason I would complain about summer. As soon as the warm weather is back, so are the ugly little demons. They love the humid weather, and, unfortunately, we get that a lot here. So, every year, I have mentally have to prepare myself for the possibility of having an encounter with a hopping catastrophe.
It's still spring, and it's already happened. The other night, I was walking to my car, and there was a frog perched up next to the side of a building. I had to walk on the sidewalk right by it, and I suddenly froze. What was I supposed to do?! I quickly started seeking what my options were and measuring what move to make next. I could go around the other side of the building. Wait, the other side was grass only, no sidewalk, where I would surely find more frogs waiting for me. This little curse on humanity was trying to set me up! OK, I could veer my path as far as possible on the sidewalk and maybe get by him with no disasters. I took this option and sprinted to my car as soon as I hit the pavement of the parking lot. Whew, I was still alive!
You might be wondering why I have a fear of something that tries to appear so innocent. I'm not sure I can explain it with simple logic. It goes far back to when I was a small child. I can't pinpoint the exact moment I had my first frightening run in with a frog, but I know I avoided them at all costs. Then came the nightmare.
I was playing in my street with the neighborhood kids when there was suddenly a gigantic frog in the alley across the way. Everyone abandoned me, and the Humungous Hopper swallowed me whole. I was living inside a giant frog! Then I woke up. Ever since, it's been one of those recurring nightmares that you can't cure, and you never know when it's going to invade your slumber.
And frogs are the only thing I can't tolerate or from which I will run as if my life depended on escaping from a scene in less than four seconds. Snakes? No problem. Bugs? Don't mind them at all? Vicious dogs? Who cares? It's only frogs (and I guess toads...but am I concerned enough to try to distinguish between the two? Definitely not.) that cause me such horror.
The worst time I ever had a frog attack me was when I worked the opening shift of a recreation center. I had always been paranoid of frogs near the door when I walked up to it, but you can't even begin to imagine how quickly my heart stopped when I walked in to find myself staring death in the face—there was a frog in the building! It was 4:30 in the morning, and I was all by myself. I thought about calling my parents, but decided not to wake them up. Besides, it probably would have ended me before they could get there. I even considered turning around and just not working that day, but I knew that I had a responsibility to this job, and I wasn't going to let myself be weak enough to give into my fear that much. I left it in the lobby until one of the lifeguards, Lifeguard Steve (who obviously became my hero that day), got it out of the building completely.
I've had a few encounters with frogs in my lifetime, but I generally find ways to evade them at all costs. I guess everyone has his or her own weird thing, and this is simply one of mine. So, if you're ever near me when a frog is on the prowl, please be aware that you might have to save me in that moment.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
A Good Read For Sure
If you haven't read My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult, I highly recommend you do so. And you might not want to read the rest of what I have to say, because it might spoil the whole thing for you.
The book focuses on a family in Rhode Island trying to keep its oldest daughter, who has acute promyelocytic leukemia. In fact, the parents went so far as to practically design their youngest child, Anna, to be a perfect genetic match so that she could donate blood, bone marrow or even a kidney to her older sister. She never had the choice - that is, until she turned 13 years old.
Anna spends most of the book trying to become medically emancipated from her parents so that she can make her own decisions in regards to donating to Kate. The only problem is that it seems as if Anna doesn't quite know what she wants at all. But she takes her parents to court, nonetheless.
At first, it is so easy not to like Sara, the girls' mother. It is as if she only cares for one thing in the entire world: Kate. Sure, she has two other children, but sometimes she doesn't even appear to acknowledge them. Well, unless she needs something Anna can give through tubes or surgery. Sara fights so hard to hold on to Kate, but the whole time she is losing Anna and Jesse (the brother and oldest sibling) and drifting from her husband, as well.
It is really hard to choose sides throughout the whole story. On one hand, I wanted Anna to be able to make her own decisions, especially because she is almost treated as if she is invisible at times. But at the exact same time, you want Kate to get the kidney donation so that she can live. And you want Anna to be the one to make the choice to give it to her. It's clear during the whole novel that Anna loves her sister, but it's also quite apparent that she wants to be free of her in a way, as well.
At the end of the book, you learn it was Kate who pressured Anna not to give her a kidney. Kate was in so much pain and felt guilty for being a burden to everyone else around her that she just wants to give up the fight. Anna doesn't want her sister to die, but she knows that if she follows through with Kate's wish, she will have a lot more freedom.
Anna ends up winning her lawsuit against her parents after all truths are revealed in the courtroom. If you wonder what Anna's choice was, you will have to keep pondering that one. The reader never actually finds out. It's pretty clear that she wants to make the donation, anyway, but she doesn't get the chance to do so voluntarily.
Anna dies after a car crash on the way to the hospital. Her lawyer makes the call to give her organ to her older sister, and Kate goes on to live longer than anyone ever expected. Anna ended up saving her sister after all, but she didn't get to be there to see it.
It is such a sad story, but it is definitely a great read. I love the way Picoult wrote it. Every chapter is told from a different character's perspective, so it really gives you a feel for how and why each person is dealing with the situation at hand. You don't read anything from Kate's point of view until the very end, but it's the most poignant. If you cry easily, I would suggest you get a box of Kleenex before you read that entry. I don't cry much, and I didn't at this point, but I would have if my tear ducts worked.
Picoult took an issue that could be a hot topic for debate and turned it into a story that digs straight to your heart and really gets you involved in all of the characters' worlds, which ultimately crash into one world of chaos and hope.
The book focuses on a family in Rhode Island trying to keep its oldest daughter, who has acute promyelocytic leukemia. In fact, the parents went so far as to practically design their youngest child, Anna, to be a perfect genetic match so that she could donate blood, bone marrow or even a kidney to her older sister. She never had the choice - that is, until she turned 13 years old.
Anna spends most of the book trying to become medically emancipated from her parents so that she can make her own decisions in regards to donating to Kate. The only problem is that it seems as if Anna doesn't quite know what she wants at all. But she takes her parents to court, nonetheless.
At first, it is so easy not to like Sara, the girls' mother. It is as if she only cares for one thing in the entire world: Kate. Sure, she has two other children, but sometimes she doesn't even appear to acknowledge them. Well, unless she needs something Anna can give through tubes or surgery. Sara fights so hard to hold on to Kate, but the whole time she is losing Anna and Jesse (the brother and oldest sibling) and drifting from her husband, as well.
It is really hard to choose sides throughout the whole story. On one hand, I wanted Anna to be able to make her own decisions, especially because she is almost treated as if she is invisible at times. But at the exact same time, you want Kate to get the kidney donation so that she can live. And you want Anna to be the one to make the choice to give it to her. It's clear during the whole novel that Anna loves her sister, but it's also quite apparent that she wants to be free of her in a way, as well.
At the end of the book, you learn it was Kate who pressured Anna not to give her a kidney. Kate was in so much pain and felt guilty for being a burden to everyone else around her that she just wants to give up the fight. Anna doesn't want her sister to die, but she knows that if she follows through with Kate's wish, she will have a lot more freedom.
Anna ends up winning her lawsuit against her parents after all truths are revealed in the courtroom. If you wonder what Anna's choice was, you will have to keep pondering that one. The reader never actually finds out. It's pretty clear that she wants to make the donation, anyway, but she doesn't get the chance to do so voluntarily.
Anna dies after a car crash on the way to the hospital. Her lawyer makes the call to give her organ to her older sister, and Kate goes on to live longer than anyone ever expected. Anna ended up saving her sister after all, but she didn't get to be there to see it.
It is such a sad story, but it is definitely a great read. I love the way Picoult wrote it. Every chapter is told from a different character's perspective, so it really gives you a feel for how and why each person is dealing with the situation at hand. You don't read anything from Kate's point of view until the very end, but it's the most poignant. If you cry easily, I would suggest you get a box of Kleenex before you read that entry. I don't cry much, and I didn't at this point, but I would have if my tear ducts worked.
Picoult took an issue that could be a hot topic for debate and turned it into a story that digs straight to your heart and really gets you involved in all of the characters' worlds, which ultimately crash into one world of chaos and hope.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
The Stars of the City
The Dallas Stars are our last hope.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
When Did I Get So Busy?
I remember being young and having nothing to do but play. My brother and sister and I would spend hours upon hours just playing outside with the neighbors on the street until the dark settled, and our parents would force us to come inside. And I mean force. We were having far too much fun to go back in the boring indoors. There were no stresses, no worries. I don't think I even knew what a deadline was. If I did, I guarantee I didn't care.
Now, it seems like play is something forbidden. When did I grow up? Why do I have to be part of the "real world," where it sometimes seems like adults don't know how to have any fun? It's all about work, work, work. Deadlines, deadlines, deadlines. Hurry, hurry, hurry! I, too, become guilty of such time-urgent attitudes, which frustrates me even more. Don't you ever wish you could just go back to being a kid? You didn't worry about how much money was in your bank account (mainly because the only bank you knew had hooves and a curly tail), and the only significance the letter "K" had for you was that it was the 11th letter in the alphabet. And you always had time. In fact, sometimes you had too much time.
I currently often find myself wondering where time went. It's as if there are moments when I have to remember to breathe because things get so busy and chaotic. And the crazy thing is, that is the norm for a lot of people who are "grown up." It's all about the job; it's all about the salary; it's all about the success; it's all about not wasting another minute wasting another minute. It's madness!
I have found it's essential to make sure you still play and find enjoyment. Go for a run, ride a bike, play in the rain. You have to be able to laugh and have fun with the time you have here on earth. After all, the time goes by so quickly, especially when you start to grow up. I think Rod Stewart said it best: "Be courageous, and be brave, and in my heart you'll always stay forever young."
Now, it seems like play is something forbidden. When did I grow up? Why do I have to be part of the "real world," where it sometimes seems like adults don't know how to have any fun? It's all about work, work, work. Deadlines, deadlines, deadlines. Hurry, hurry, hurry! I, too, become guilty of such time-urgent attitudes, which frustrates me even more. Don't you ever wish you could just go back to being a kid? You didn't worry about how much money was in your bank account (mainly because the only bank you knew had hooves and a curly tail), and the only significance the letter "K" had for you was that it was the 11th letter in the alphabet. And you always had time. In fact, sometimes you had too much time.
I currently often find myself wondering where time went. It's as if there are moments when I have to remember to breathe because things get so busy and chaotic. And the crazy thing is, that is the norm for a lot of people who are "grown up." It's all about the job; it's all about the salary; it's all about the success; it's all about not wasting another minute wasting another minute. It's madness!
I have found it's essential to make sure you still play and find enjoyment. Go for a run, ride a bike, play in the rain. You have to be able to laugh and have fun with the time you have here on earth. After all, the time goes by so quickly, especially when you start to grow up. I think Rod Stewart said it best: "Be courageous, and be brave, and in my heart you'll always stay forever young."
Friday, April 25, 2008
Get Your Head in the Game
I love Josh Howard, but I can't say I'm that happy with him right now.
I understand that there are a lot of NBA players who smoke marijuana. No, I don't support it, and I am not happy about it, but I am not too naive to think it's not a reality. Let's face it: there is probably a large number of potheads in the league. But most of them don't go shouting from the rooftops that they use drugs.
Which brings me back to Josh Howard.
My favorite NBA player went on Michael Irvin's show on 103.3 FM ESPN today and actually wanted to talk about his drug use in the offseason. Yes, there had already been a story reported in the Dallas Morning News that Howard doesn't exactly stay clean during the break, but there really wasn't a huge deal made about it. Then he had to go and change all of that with his little chat on the radio today.
He said it doesn't affect the way he plays, and he would never do anything to hurt his team. But what is this doing? Why would he admit this, especially right when the Mavs need to step it up the most? There has already been enough talk about how poorly Dallas has been playing lately and how the team appears to have a lack of heart. And now this? Doesn't he know that the media will be all over this and expose it more than necessary?
One thing that made me even more upset was the fact that he did this right before promoting his basketball camp for kids. These kids look up to Howard and see him as a role model. Now what are they supposed to think? Sure, he's telling the truth and not hiding who he is, but some things really are better left unsaid (i.e. getting high on the ganja in the offseason).
And what will be the ramifications from the league now? David Stern has made it clear that he wants to keep the NBA clean, and he is definitely a fan of having a good image. I mean, there is a dress code for what players can wear when they aren't playing. Is Stern really going to sit back and let players rave about drug use, which obviously doesn't reflect well on the NBA? Doubtful.
I still love Josh Howard. I know he has been through a lot and had a rough time growing up, but this was clearly an unwise decision on his part. When you have a responsibility to a team, and when you hold a role model position, you shouldn't go screaming to the world that you use drugs. Howard needs to do two things: stop smoking dope and start focusing more on his game. The Mavs need him more than ever right now, and Howard needs to put on his hero cape and help get his team back to the Finals.
Go with the dunk over the dope, J-Ho.
I understand that there are a lot of NBA players who smoke marijuana. No, I don't support it, and I am not happy about it, but I am not too naive to think it's not a reality. Let's face it: there is probably a large number of potheads in the league. But most of them don't go shouting from the rooftops that they use drugs.
Which brings me back to Josh Howard.
My favorite NBA player went on Michael Irvin's show on 103.3 FM ESPN today and actually wanted to talk about his drug use in the offseason. Yes, there had already been a story reported in the Dallas Morning News that Howard doesn't exactly stay clean during the break, but there really wasn't a huge deal made about it. Then he had to go and change all of that with his little chat on the radio today.
He said it doesn't affect the way he plays, and he would never do anything to hurt his team. But what is this doing? Why would he admit this, especially right when the Mavs need to step it up the most? There has already been enough talk about how poorly Dallas has been playing lately and how the team appears to have a lack of heart. And now this? Doesn't he know that the media will be all over this and expose it more than necessary?
One thing that made me even more upset was the fact that he did this right before promoting his basketball camp for kids. These kids look up to Howard and see him as a role model. Now what are they supposed to think? Sure, he's telling the truth and not hiding who he is, but some things really are better left unsaid (i.e. getting high on the ganja in the offseason).
And what will be the ramifications from the league now? David Stern has made it clear that he wants to keep the NBA clean, and he is definitely a fan of having a good image. I mean, there is a dress code for what players can wear when they aren't playing. Is Stern really going to sit back and let players rave about drug use, which obviously doesn't reflect well on the NBA? Doubtful.
I still love Josh Howard. I know he has been through a lot and had a rough time growing up, but this was clearly an unwise decision on his part. When you have a responsibility to a team, and when you hold a role model position, you shouldn't go screaming to the world that you use drugs. Howard needs to do two things: stop smoking dope and start focusing more on his game. The Mavs need him more than ever right now, and Howard needs to put on his hero cape and help get his team back to the Finals.
Go with the dunk over the dope, J-Ho.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Welcome Spring Weather!
I am a Texan. Therefore, it's inherently in my nature to dislike cold weather. In fact, what I consider to be "cold" is probably laughable to most people from the Northeast. Nonetheless, if it gets below 60 degrees, give me a jacket and maybe a pair of gloves, and I may request the heater to be turned on in the car. If it gets in the 20s, it's time to make a cocoon on my couch and vow not to go outside.
I can't fully say any of that is an exaggeration, but it might be. Anyway, I love the fact that the weather is starting to get warmer. It is so incredibly gorgeous outside right now. Yes, the other day we had some pretty nasty storms, but it's amazing to see how God can make the next day be sunny and absolutely beautiful. It's almost time for pool season!
I don't know how everyone else feels about this, but I actually like the hot weather. When it's in the 90s, I probably will not be complaining. There is just something about the Texas heat that is so miserable and so comfortable at the exact same time. I love it. When people from other states come to visit during the summer, they sometimes can't quite understand how we survive when we hit triple-digit temperatures. I guess after living here for a sufficient amount of time, your body just comes to expect it. Anything else would be perceived as odd. I don't consider this breaking news, but: Texas summers=hot. But it's not unbearable. I lived through last summer without air conditioning in my car. Yes, it was sweaty at times, but I made it.
It's nice to be able to embrace this spring weather while we have it. On days like today, parks are filled with friends and families going on walks, runs, bike rides, rollerblading excursions and other things of the like. The bottom line: it's great to be outside! What's the point of staying couped up in a house or office building when you can be out in this AMAZING weather enjoying the breathtaking creations God has put before us?
However, the NBA playoffs start today, so you'd better go out there before the games get started!
I can't fully say any of that is an exaggeration, but it might be. Anyway, I love the fact that the weather is starting to get warmer. It is so incredibly gorgeous outside right now. Yes, the other day we had some pretty nasty storms, but it's amazing to see how God can make the next day be sunny and absolutely beautiful. It's almost time for pool season!
I don't know how everyone else feels about this, but I actually like the hot weather. When it's in the 90s, I probably will not be complaining. There is just something about the Texas heat that is so miserable and so comfortable at the exact same time. I love it. When people from other states come to visit during the summer, they sometimes can't quite understand how we survive when we hit triple-digit temperatures. I guess after living here for a sufficient amount of time, your body just comes to expect it. Anything else would be perceived as odd. I don't consider this breaking news, but: Texas summers=hot. But it's not unbearable. I lived through last summer without air conditioning in my car. Yes, it was sweaty at times, but I made it.
It's nice to be able to embrace this spring weather while we have it. On days like today, parks are filled with friends and families going on walks, runs, bike rides, rollerblading excursions and other things of the like. The bottom line: it's great to be outside! What's the point of staying couped up in a house or office building when you can be out in this AMAZING weather enjoying the breathtaking creations God has put before us?
However, the NBA playoffs start today, so you'd better go out there before the games get started!
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Let's Be Honest: Traffic Sucks
I will admit that I am not the most patient person in the world, but I think it's safe to say that not many people enjoy sitting in traffic.
I think traffic really brings out the stupidity in a lot of people. Honestly, how dumb can we be? We insist on cutting people off and merging into their lanes at the last minute, sometimes signaling, but we inch up right to the tail of the car behind us so that others can't do the same to us. Traffic really exposes the innate hypocrisy we all possess as humans.
Don't even get me started if it starts raining. It's like we forget all common sense and become hydrophobic maniacs. I am trying to remember the last time I drove on a highway when it was even just a little wet out, and there wasn't a wreck of some sort. Nope, nothing seems to come to mind.
I think one of the real issues at hand here is that we are all in a hurry. We all want to drive so fast so that we can go do whatever it is we are going to do. Half of the time, we are driving places we don't even want to go in the first place. But we sure as heck don't want to be sitting at a standstill in our cars, that's for sure. At least our actions on the road would suggest as much.
And we become these beasts that usually don't even match our true life characters. It's as if being behind a wheel and in a sheltered vehicle with windows, sometimes even tinted, allows us to take on new personalities and say (or should I say scream?) whatever it is that pops into our stressed out heads at the time. And I won't even go into all the madman gestures I have seen. (And yes, plenty of those were directed at me, I am sure.) It's almost like the road is our stage, and we are all just actors playing parts of lunatics with steering wheels. But, are we really acting? Or are we just revealing pieces of ourselves that we are too afraid to let anyone else see? Sure, other road warriors witness our frustrations, but our thoughts are simply that we don't know those people, so we don't really have to care how they see us act. The truth of the matter is, we should care. If we aren't true to ourselves, even amidst the frustrations of horrendous bumper-to-bumper situations, to whom can we be true?
Yes, I will probably still want to scream at the top of my lungs and maybe not think the nicest thoughts about the person who nearly sideswipes me to get in my lane so that he or she can be one car length ahead of the lane next to us, but I will sure try to control some rage. I am going to make a conscious effort to allow someone to go in front of me if I see a blinker and an eager prowler trying to avoid eye contact with the last person driven to madness by the driver's last action. After all, wouldn't I want to help that person if we were strangers on a street? Wouldn't I hold the elevator for him or her? Wouldn't I try to be kind and generous? So, what's the difference if I am in my car or not? It's just one more car length. It's just another four or so seconds. The chaos of traffic shouldn't cause me to fall so much in my character. It's just one aspect of life.
There are so many more important things about which to worry. Besides, a little decline in the rapid pace of life might actually be helpful every now and then.
I think traffic really brings out the stupidity in a lot of people. Honestly, how dumb can we be? We insist on cutting people off and merging into their lanes at the last minute, sometimes signaling, but we inch up right to the tail of the car behind us so that others can't do the same to us. Traffic really exposes the innate hypocrisy we all possess as humans.
Don't even get me started if it starts raining. It's like we forget all common sense and become hydrophobic maniacs. I am trying to remember the last time I drove on a highway when it was even just a little wet out, and there wasn't a wreck of some sort. Nope, nothing seems to come to mind.
I think one of the real issues at hand here is that we are all in a hurry. We all want to drive so fast so that we can go do whatever it is we are going to do. Half of the time, we are driving places we don't even want to go in the first place. But we sure as heck don't want to be sitting at a standstill in our cars, that's for sure. At least our actions on the road would suggest as much.
And we become these beasts that usually don't even match our true life characters. It's as if being behind a wheel and in a sheltered vehicle with windows, sometimes even tinted, allows us to take on new personalities and say (or should I say scream?) whatever it is that pops into our stressed out heads at the time. And I won't even go into all the madman gestures I have seen. (And yes, plenty of those were directed at me, I am sure.) It's almost like the road is our stage, and we are all just actors playing parts of lunatics with steering wheels. But, are we really acting? Or are we just revealing pieces of ourselves that we are too afraid to let anyone else see? Sure, other road warriors witness our frustrations, but our thoughts are simply that we don't know those people, so we don't really have to care how they see us act. The truth of the matter is, we should care. If we aren't true to ourselves, even amidst the frustrations of horrendous bumper-to-bumper situations, to whom can we be true?
Yes, I will probably still want to scream at the top of my lungs and maybe not think the nicest thoughts about the person who nearly sideswipes me to get in my lane so that he or she can be one car length ahead of the lane next to us, but I will sure try to control some rage. I am going to make a conscious effort to allow someone to go in front of me if I see a blinker and an eager prowler trying to avoid eye contact with the last person driven to madness by the driver's last action. After all, wouldn't I want to help that person if we were strangers on a street? Wouldn't I hold the elevator for him or her? Wouldn't I try to be kind and generous? So, what's the difference if I am in my car or not? It's just one more car length. It's just another four or so seconds. The chaos of traffic shouldn't cause me to fall so much in my character. It's just one aspect of life.
There are so many more important things about which to worry. Besides, a little decline in the rapid pace of life might actually be helpful every now and then.
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