Quips.

Sometimes I think New York is like my husband. All shiny and exciting at first, and then he gets a belly and, I don't know, stops wearing deodorant. (This is what Alison says while we search for rats to curve boredom while waiting for the train.)

Sometimes I feel like my life is a movie. But then I think, "If my life were a movie, I'd have a better wardrobe." (This is why I spent way too much money on only three items at the largest store in the world after one particularly bad day.)

Brittany, quit flashing gang signs. (This is what my mother yells to me across a crowded subway after I wave my fingers at her. Wave as in, "HI MOM," not as in, "MEET ME LATER TONIGHT WITH THE GOODS.")



Family always makes New York just a little bit prettier =)

My Hands

About that list...I've been working on the first one. The music one. I started a song on Feb. 21 inspired by the Africa trip this summer. I've written a few about it but It's still in my heart and I think more music will come from it. I worked on it tonight and thought I'd share what I have so far. It's rough...

Click here to listen.

I will apologize
and I'll take the blame for what I've done
I'll study your fearless face and find
You're hopeless for hiding grace

And I would, I'd be on my knees if not for this
Now I would, I'd give you my hands just for this
That you might use them well

You show me your wounded daughter
You tell me I'm ready to fight for her
Please show me your fearless ways
I find I'm helpless without your grace

I see the pain in her eyes
It gives me strength enough to try

And I would, I'd fall on my knees just for this
And I would, I'd give you my hands just for this
And pray they will not fail

For the sons, for the fathers
For the girls without their mothers
For the hope, for the hope of the world
For the suffering to start ending
For the life that's ever flowing
For the victory I see coming
To the horizon we are running
For the hungry and forgotten
For the lovely and the heartless
There is hope, there is hope for the forsaken
For the sons, for the daughters
Only looking for the fathers
There is hope, hope for the forsaken

I'd give up a million things
But I just keep on livin' selfishly
There are days I know there's more to me

I should be on my knees just for this
And I should, give you my hands...

On to the next.

About six months ago, I wrote a list of things to do. I figure now is a good time to revisit and re-assess:

Write music
(Write good music)
Send Lauren a letter
(Who cares, she's coming to see me next week)
Find a church
Get involved in a church
(Working on it)
Join a choir
(I started the process, haven't auditioned yet)
Make a photo grid a la the one I saw in Pottery Barn (Re-hang photo grid in new room)
Try writing another (better) children's book
(Haven't started writing yet, but am reading. It's research. )
Join a gym
Take a cooking class
(Am cooking more. )
Take a language class
(...I have nothing. Although there are some "learn how to speak French" CD's around the apartment somewhere.)
Take guitar lessons
(Still thinking about it.)
Visit Washington DC
(Not yet. )
Read
(Continue reading. )
Stop buying cheaply made clothes and be satisfied with fewer, nicer ones
(I've done well, here. Mainly due to the fact that I should try to be presentable at work. I dread the day when my boss calls me into his office and tells me I wear my jeans too much and I end up asking for a raise so that I can buy more clothes. I would accidentally do that.)
Develop pictures
(I typed this up before my computer crashed to the floor with my 2,000 Africa pictures. Let's move on. )
Go to some museums
(Easier for me to do when it's warm out. I'm going to some next week!)

You may have noticed how I failed miserably at all matters of classes and further learning. Well, that is not true. I signed up for a dance class that starts in April. Can't help but feel like I'm a little backwards here. I never danced as a little girl. I took baton for awhile, but it was disastrous. I wasn't bad, no. I was just the ONLY GIRL IN THE WHOLE FORT WORTH PARADE WHOSE PARENTS MADE HER WEAR SWEATS INSTEAD OF THE PRETTY RED FRILLY OUTFITS ALL THE OTHER GIRLS WORE. Then I lost my baton. I cried a lot and I never got a new baton. And I was always jealous of the girls who got to go to "make-up" classes. Because I thought it was a class about putting on make-up.

After that experience, I started wearing baggy t-shirts and pony tails and begged my parents to let me play softball. No more girly stuff that was going to break my heart. I bought a shirt that said, "God is life. Everything else is softball." I still have that shirt. In fact, maybe I'll wear it to a game next month after volleyball season ends.

Well, I don't remember where I was going with this.

Oh yeah, I'm doing what every other little girl does, only I'm 23. I still have my character shoes from the last time I danced, high school show choir. I'm pretty nervous about this. Every night for two weeks I almost signed up, then didn't. I was talking to Joey about it on his birthday and it just became clear that I should do it.

So I'm doing it. Paid up front and everything.

On another completely separate note, for the last two days I've had a nervous/excited feeling in my stomach and I can't eat. This could have something to do with the dance class. It could have something to do with my family being here in four days. Or, it could be something else.

PS - Mom, I forgive you for caring about the temperature of my body and making me wear sweats to the parade. I promise you didn't ruin my childhood. In fact, you may have saved me from a life of big hair, pageants, and other stuff that is not nearly as cool as softball. Or show choir...

Infected.

I guess that it's time I explained...

I have MRSA, a form of the news-making staph infection.

It started on my leg in October. Then again on my leg, then my eyebrow over Thanksgiving. I went to the doctor the first time and got antibiotics. The 2nd and 3rd time it wasn't so bad, so I let it "run it's course," so-to-speak. Then last week I woke up and my lip was swollen. I decided to go to a clinic the 2nd day because it was looking pretty bad. He just gave me a prescription and I went back to work. The next day I woke up and it was twice the size. So I went to the ER. The actual infection was above my lip, but had made a whole side of my face swell up. I think that picture was from Thursday. The stupid doctor in the ER gave me more medicine but he did not help me at all. HELLO, my face is a balloon. Something is wrong with me.

Friday I went to the dermatologist. She finally helped me. She also hurt me a freaking lot. She had to put a needle in my face to numb me and I felt that thing go deep. Then she told me to close my eyes while she got a sample. I don't know what she did, but I still felt it. Then I started getting sick. I had planned on eating breakfast at work (I was crazy for thinking I'd be going to work), so I was on an empty stomach. It was not a good feeling. They started running around, lying me down, turning off the lights, finding food and water...

But it's okay. She gave me more medicine, a cream that I have to stick in my nose. It's supposed to get rid of the infection that I've been carrying for months entirely.

I was back at work on Monday and my face has, in a way, shrunk all the way down since Friday.

Two good things came from this:

I started watching Lost from the beginning online while I was at home with nothing to do. I haven't seen the first two seasons. This is good for me. Bad for the social life.

I looked really funny and although it hurt to laugh at the time, it's still very funny.

Woo hoo....adventures in the big city!

Botox gone bad?

I just thought I'd share with you what I've been dealing with the last few days. Those are my lips.