I hope that groundhog is a liar

It's amazing how chaotic things can become in a mere matter of moments.

Just when I thought my life was beginning to get a little boring and predictable, a whole onslaught of stuff was dumped on my plate. For starters, I began grad school in the middle of last month. I'm really excited about it, but my level of fatigue has increased dramatically. I have class on Monday and Tuesday nights, so those two days pretty much seem like the longest 48 hours of my life. Each week. I guess I just need to learn to adjust to this new schedule.

A childhood friend died two weeks ago in a motorcycle accident, and the funeral was last week. He was only 22. It was just one more reminder that life can be short, or life can be long. Either way, it's important to live each day to the fullest, and I hope to do that. I also want to make sure I'm living each day for God and not myself. He deserves all the glory, but I'm far too aware of the fact that my concern with myself often overshadows that. Each day is a new lesson in selflessness.

It's also time for progress reports to go out at school, and grades for those are due Monday. That should make for a fun weekend on top of all of the reading I have to do, none of which will be done on Sunday. That sacred day is reserved for the Super Bowl.

I've also been given a few video projects by some of my co-workers. I love editing, and I love helping others out, but it's not always so fun when they all make these project requests at once.

To make an actual reference to the title of this post, I don't believe everything Punxsutawney Phil predicts, and I hope his forecast for more winter is invalid. He's just a dumb animal, anyway.

It's just one of those days today, and I need this weekend to relax!

'Boys and biz

It looks like my 'Boys have broken the playoff curse. :)

I really wish I could have been at the game today. I have an ESPN connection who was trying to get me a ticket, but it didn't work out. He sent me a text suggesting I buy a ticket from a scalper and that he would pay me back for it. I don't think he realizes that I am a teacher and don't get paid the same salary as he does. And payday isn't until Friday, so my bank account can't really handle dropping 200 buckaroos.

And, is it just me, or are some NFL refs really bowed up all of a sudden? I'm not suggesting they're on the juice or anything, but you never know. I mean, you've got to be on your A game to make all those calls...

On another note, I've become obsesses with The Office. I didn't think it could happen to me, but I've been defeated. Over Christmas break, pretty much all I did besides watch bowl games was watch seasons 1-5. I now understand what the big deal is about this show. Pure genius.

To finalize this note, I might as well mention how much the Texas weather of late is ridiculous. Since when did we have authentic winter temperatures with wind chills of 3 degrees? I'm pretty sure my pinky had frostbite the past two mornings, and I was wearing mittens and ski gloves! I don't claim science to be my strong subject, but this sure doesn't feel like global warming to me.

The crowd at the Cowboys game is singing "Na na na na, hey, hey, hey, goodbye." I suppose that's my cue.

A marathon of a moment

I know for a fact The Wall isn't a myth.

Sure, there are plenty of ways to avoid it, but it doesn't always happen as one would like. I re-learned this in the White Rock Marathon recently. I realize that a lot of it is "all mental," but there can come a point where your body just feels like death run over and that you have nothing left.

Enter yours truly at about mile 24.

To qualify for Boston, which I've done once but never went to run it, I needed to run a 3:40. But I wanted to do more than that; my goal was to break 3:30. And I sure as heck wasn't about to let The Wall wreak havoc on my plans.

To play spoiler for you, I ran a 3:26:05, so I definitely got more than I wanted, but those last 2.2 miles were pretty much hell on earth. I had run a solid race, though probably ran the first half too quickly, on par for probably a sub-3:20, which I knew wasn't my smartest move. But at some point in the race, I decided my best bet was just to run as hard as I could until I had absolutely nothing left in the tank.

Again, let's mention mile 24.

I think that might forever be a cursed number for me now.

I had lost some circulation in my hands and couldn't really feel them, so I had trouble grabbing a cup of water around the 24-mile mark. I would like to extend my apologies to the poor little girl who graciously volunteered her Sunday morning to help the masses pass out hydration to the runners. Little did she know that some redhead marathoner would knock a full cup all over her previously dry little body and just keep running without even looking back. I don't think you heard me mutter an "I'm sorry," but it was there. And, again, my sincerest apologies.

At this point, I knew I was going to smash my 3:30 goal; now it was just a matter of getting to that finish line that was so close, yet a world away. I had come this far, so what was another couple of miles?

Don't ever ask me that if you don't want to receive the face that some of my students have termed "The Merrill Look." Trust me, you don't want that one.

I was definitely quoting Isaiah and praying for strength (and for God to carry me the rest of the way), and with about half a mile left I thought I was going to cry. And I don't cry. But then I saw something that stopped my tear ducts from activating and took my mind off my cement-weighted legs: my little sister was running toward me to help me finish.

Steph had run the first leg of the relay with some friends, and she waited at the finish line so she could motivate me to the end. I tried pushing as hard as I could when she came and started encouraging me, and one of my favorite exchanges of the day was:

Steph: Are you ready to sprint it in?

Me: Am I not sprinting yet?!

When I crossed that line at 3:26:05, it wasn't just special because I had achieved a goal I had been working to obtain through grueling long runs and months of training; I was doing it with my favorite person right beside me.

A Chris-less Thanksgiving

This is going to be a weird Thanksgiving.

My sister and I have always been the two youngest members of our family until our cousins started having kids. But the past few Thanksgivings, we've had those little tots running around. But things are going to be very different this year.

My cousins are all spending the holiday with their spouses' families, which has happened before. Usually at least one of them is there, but I've kind of gotten used to them trading off holidays where we see them. Last year was really fun because we had a big crowd at my aunt and uncle's house, which I loved because my family is pretty darn awesome. And, while I will miss my cousins and other extended family members who aren't there this year, that's not what bothers me.

This will be the first Thanksgiving where my brother won't be there.

I understand that things change as we get older, and his girlfriend spent last Thanksgiving with our family, but does he really have to go to Mississippi with her? I mean, he's never not been there with us. Who is going to hog all of the mashed potatoes? Who is going to be the only one to eat that nasty cranberry sauce that keeps the shape of the can when you pour it out? Who is going to sit and watch the Cowboys game with me and not try to make small talk when I'm clearly focused in on this beautiful holiday tradition?

I love all of my family and am so thankful for those who will be there this year, but I can't say that I'm not a little disappointed. I even think my brother's girlfriend is so cool, but I wish they were going to stuff their faces with us on Thursday.

I guess sometimes the more things change, the more they don't stay the same.

Goodbye Cavy, hello Ravy!

I know material possessions shouldn't be the focus of life, but I really do love my new car.

A couple of weeks ago, the Crapalier (my hated little Chevy Cavy) pretty much reached its breaking point. I couldn't take it anymore, so I had my brother take me car shopping on a Tuesday, and I found the perfect fit for me: a Toyota Rav4. So, that following Saturday, I spent five hours at the dealership bargaining with those sharks known as car salesmen. They really are a different breed, I must say. At one point, I found myself negotiating with the general manager of the whole place.

In the end, I finally got what I wanted. The best part? The Ravy actually works! I mean, the check engine light isn't on, the break light isn't on (even though the emergency break isn't even close to being in use), I can roll down any window at any point in time without having to lean across the space of the car and put my arm muscles to work, I can lock all the doors at once, and there is still that new car smell, as opposed to the smell of a vehicle about to explode when you shut the engine off.

This is the first big purchase I've made on my own, so I suppose that's an added joy to the fact that I won't find myself seeking alternate methods of passing my inspection each year.

Gotta have faith

There are simply some things in life that I will never understand.

I know I'm not supposed to know why everything happens the way it does, but sometimes that frustrates me to no end. Just at the point where I think I may have figured one of life's great mysteries out, another unexpected obstacle pops up and reminds me just how clueless I can be on occasion.

And all that's left to do is sit there and think: "God, why?"

And I wonder if I'll ever know. Because right now it's unclear to me why God does some of the things He does. Yes, I trust Him with His plan and purpose, but the human nature in me frequently gets a bit perturbed at the fact that I can't be all-knowing. Where are my superhero powers when I need them?

I guess that's what it means to have faith, though. You have to be confident in something you don't know or maybe can't even see. You have to be certain in that in which you hope. And you have to keep that hope and trust alive.

Faith. It's funny because, while having faith is completely in my hands, it's that same faith that takes everything out of my hands entirely.

Baby, baby

It's really weird when your lifelong friends start having kids.

Rachel, my friend whom I've known since I was 2, will bring a little boy into this world in a month or so. It's just so hard to fathom her having a kid when it seems like we were just kids ourselves.

"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it." Thank you for that, Ferris Bueller.

Rachel's baby shower was Sunday, and it was so great to see some of my old friends again. I really miss spending time with them, and I'm really thankful that it's so easy for us to pick up where we left off. Just like true friends can do. I also got a chance to catch up with my two Sunday School teachers from high school. These women are incredibly wise and taught me probably more than they will ever know during those crucial years in a young woman's life. They are still just as beautiful and Godly as ever.

Rachel's going to make an amazing mother, and I hope her baby boy grows up to develop lasting friendships like the one we have. They really make the ups and downs of life a lot more bearable and enjoyable.