There was a time in my life when I supported the Death Penalty. I could give reason to the consequence for acts of violence beyond comprehension. I was able to justify in my mind the killing of a man for the decisions he had made to take the life (lives) of others. Later on, I changed my view on the matter, but I am still to this day, able to hear arguments for both sides and understand the reasoning.

I have never supported abortion but in my heart I can imagine circumstances where the option would seem viable. I can put together the pieces of rape and find an excuse then, although I still stand on the side of life. I can hear, I can understand, I can even agree with the argument made.

I have never been an unbeliever. I have never in my life believed there wasn’t a God. I have been a Christian from a very young age and while I have been angry with God, and have wondered how on earth he could allow such horrible things to happen to people, I have never had a length of time when I did not believe He existed. And I cannot for the life of me understand how people explain Him away.

Evolution has never made sense to me. Not to say that we haven’t adapted as species, or developed as necessary for our surroundings, but that all life comes from some cell, some fish, some monkey turned human? No, I cannot make it seem reasonable. I cannot look at the world, at the way the entire universe operates, at the big and the small picture and say it just happened with a “bang”. I cannot. I nearly laugh, the thought is so ludicrous to me. It is the one area of my life that I am completely unable to stand in an agnostic’s shoes and see their view even if I don’t agree with it.

Last night, LM and I watched, “March of the Penguins.” At the end of the movie, LM and I talked for quite awhile about how amazing it is that God gave even the smallest creatures a soul, that they might demonstrate compassion, sorrow and joy. That more than just instinct, more than anything science can explain, we can witness the artistry of God’s imagination. That we can see the love that abounds in everything in our life. I cannot for the life of me imagine what a movie like that feels like to someone who doesn’t believe in God. How do you explain the soul, the nurturing, the sense of family, obligation to offspring, the distance and endurance these animals overcame….I could go on and on. It is more, I think than science alone can explain. It is more than simply reproduction for sake of continuing a species. They mourn. They love. They in many ways demonstrate a greater commitment to parenting that many people do today.

I once watched a special on elephants that moved me in much the same way. I remember the narrator explaining the mourning that the herd goes through over the loss of a member. I will never forget the images of the elephants running their trunks over the bones of a deceased elephant, over and over caressing as if to remember, to immortalize. It was powerful. It was much the same experience as watching the penguins last night.

If you haven’t seen this documentary, I encourage you to do so. It’s a love story that reminds us of the Love of our God, our Creator. If he has given the penguins such heart, if he has provided for them the instincts and compassion necessary for survival, for family, for life, think of how He has blessed us all the more.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Oh.My.Gosh.

I have turned into my sister.

I reached into my purse to get my cell phone this morning and found a roll of film. Undeveloped. Waiting to be processed.

It took me a good many minutes to figure out this roll of film is from CHRISTMAS.

Oh.My.Gosh.

This is not like me at all.

But this is.exactly.like.my.sister.

Be afraid, be very very afraid.

Next thing you know, I’ll be on the phone with my brother while I holler at my son.

I read “Kite Runner” a couple weeks ago and this weekend I watched the movie, “The Constant Gardener”.

I’m struggling to feel deserving of all the blessings we have in America. I need to be doing more, I need to be doing something. I’m on a search for a way for my soul to help those who need it most. I’m not sure that I even know where to begin, but beginning may be the hardest part.

I have come to realize lately that my life feels so very simple. It doesn’t feel harried or chaotic, it feels serene and uncomplicated. I don’t know that I have ever had what I would describe as a ‘hectic life’ but even more so lately, I have noticed that my happiness seems to come in what looks from the outside to be the most mundane things and events.

Last evening was LM’s night to cook, but neither of us was hungry enough to warrant the effort of a full meal, so we decided to piece our way through the night. When LM finally got hungry enough to ask what there was to eat, I started to pull odds and ends of things out of the fridge in way of options. There was a small serving of baked beans, about as much macaroni and cheese, there was a piece of London broil leftover and I could make up a Caesar salad if he wished. He finished off this and that and as he did I put dishes in the dishwasher and wiped down the counter. By the time he was done, I felt so satisfied that the odds and ends in the fridge were consumed and the space was cleared out and straightened, ready for our weekly trip to the store on Saturday. Everything was in place. It just felt like the simplest of joys.

I thought to put a load of laundry in, but there wasn’t enough to do, I was already caught up. LM had vacuumed the living room and dining room as he chore, so the house seemed straightened and fresh.

I finished Anna Karenin (I have always thought it was KareninA, but this listing omits the ‘a’ http://www.bartleby.com/316/) today and feel accomplished by having done so. I filed my taxes last week and will have the refund end of next.

This weekend we are expecting a foot of snow on Saturday evening, news that will excite LM to no end when he hears and Gabe when he sees it. I have no plans, I have no place that I have to be. The snow will in no way dampen our weekend nor will it prevent us from any activities. It can fall and be enjoyed without a thought otherwise.

We will head to the grocery store for our weekly shop this evening and we will be surrounded by families stock piling for the winter storm, a concept I do not understand in an age when within a couple hours after a snow storm of ANY size, we are able to get out and about, but the fearful amongst us will be out hoarding bread and milk as always. We will pick out a movie for Movie Night and perhaps will stop to get the needles and yarn I need to start learning to knit now that my how-to book has arrived. We will put the Gentle Leader collar on Gabe and see how he does with it, optimistic that perhaps our days of lunging at other dogs are over.

On paper, it doesn’t look as though there is much going on in our lives. We aren’t rushing off to basketball practice, or running errands for the duration of a day but life feels full, it feels good, it feels like it is “enough”. Which is all I could have ever hoped for.

I wish you ‘enough’ today and everyday.

At first, I was overjoyed with the news. ESPN was taking over Monday Night Football. YES!! Visions of Chris Berman and Tom Jackson becoming part of my Monday Night Football routine was beyond anything I could have hoped for. And, clearly it was just that. Beyond my hopes.

Here, you can read it for yourselves. http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/11235692/

NBC will now host my favorite night of football, Sunday night, and have decidedly RUINED it by having Michaels and Madden host. Oh.My.Lord. How I hate John Madden in the broadcast booth. They tried to coax me in by putting Bob Costas there as well, but as much as I love Costas, I cannot for the life of me make that even out my extreme dislike of Madden.

And now, even worse, the ESPN crew taking over for Mondays will include PTI’s Kornheiser, whom I cannot tolerate. Kill me. Kill me now. Theismann is fine, Tirico is okay, but Kornheiser?!?! Are you kidding me?

The only good news to come out of it all is that MNF will be starting almost a half hour earlier, which means I might actually stay awake well into the third quarter. Maybe.

If you need me, I’ll be in mourning. Not only has football season ended for this year, but I have no Sunday Night Football to look forward to next year if it means I’ll have to listen to Madden.

Maybe it’s not too late to like hockey.

Ammendments from previous posts:

One: I regained my senses and hid my profile on Match. All it took was one moment without the aid of a glass of wine to realize I have no desire to go back into the world of dating. I’m sorry for the false alarm.

Two: I may have to recant my statement about V-day. Tonight, LM and I grabbed dinner and then braved Wal*Mart to get the necessary Valentine’s for his classmates and for relatives. LM knows how much I hate Wal*Mart, so he knew to be quick. V-day isn’t his favorite holiday, either, so he saw the option of Narnia cards and knew that was safe (safe means NOT MUSHY!!)We went to the card section to buy cards for my neice and nephew and so forth and LM handed me the ones he picked out and said, “don’t look, one is for you!” I was so proud of him for thinking of that all on his own, and for picking one out. He wrote in it tonight and set it aside. I was just so touched. I might not hate the holiday after all!

Three: Suzan recommended I try the “Gentle Leader Collar” for Gabe. I have one, we just put it aside when the trainers gave us different ones to use. We’re going to get it back out this weekend and see how that goes. She swears by it, so I’ll keep you posted. If we find success, you’ll all be the first to know!!

By the way, while my sister has yet to set eyes upon my blog, she seems to get reports from Bear about the “important matters” or at least what he thinks is critical in my blogs. My step mom has been here so I’d like to say hello to her and I’d like to give a shout out to two of my friends from my former life in Illinois, Hello to Stacy and Suzan!!!

That’s all. More crap that I’ll probably have to recant will be posted tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll be waiting with baited breath.

I can’t sleep. It has everything to do with the caffeinated Diet Coke I had today, but while I’m restless, I’ve been thinking over my dog-walking issues. Gabe has been through two obedience classes and has had two personal training sessions. He can sit, stay, come, heel, halt and sometimes will even leave it, depending on how truly tempting the item in question is. He has a great time at the Bark Park and enjoys playing with puppies big and small, but on a leash, walking around the neighborhood, he cannot, for the life of me, learn to demonstrate manners when seeing another dog. It is as if he is a Navy Seal on high alert, scanning the horizon for another dog infiltrating his territory. From 50 yards away, he will not only spy another dog, but will pay attention to absolutely nothing else until he no longer sees that dog. He will crane his neck, he will pull in that direction, he will lunge if necessary to go say hello. And, being 200 pounds, it doesn’t usually make such a great impression on the dog and owner he’s approaching. There are usually screams, sirens and I end up with a dislocated shoulder. Okay, it doesn’t really come to that, but the potential is certainly there.

The training we’ve undergone has worked primarily to get his attention on me, which works just fine unless we’re talking about seeing another dog and then I’m completely forgotten. I could be holding a steak in my hands and Gabe will not even look at me.

So, here it is, 3am, I’ve been up for well over an hour and I was thinking about whether or not I was going to schedule another training session, and was trying to articulate in my head what it is that I think needs to happen at these sessions (i.e. it might be helpful if there were other dogs there…) when an idea hit me.

Perhaps what Gabe needs most is time spent walking in OUR neighborhood with another dog. Perhaps if I can find a walking partner who has another dog, I can get Gabe more accustomed to the idea that we can, in fact, walk with/near/around another dog without having to create havoc.

And this idea, as most of mine do, branched into an even grander idea of organizing a “Group Dog Walk” at the park near where I live. I live in a subdivision of condos/townhouses and twins (duplexes for those of you who don’t live out East). Lots of folks have dogs, and so I thought maybe if I put up signs in my neighborhood and invited people to come socialize themselves and their dogs at a little Saturday morning Dog Walk, that this might not only give the neighbors a chance to meet, but would give the dogs a chance to socialize, and MAYBE give Gabe a chance to get it together. Maybe some folks would enjoy it so much that it could become a regular event, and not just a one-time thing. Or maybe the police would have to be called in and I would be hauled off to jail for such insane ideas.

So, I’ve been mulling this over, and trying to see the pros and cons and while I realize that Gabe might not handle himself well, and might completely embarrass me in front of my neighbors, being a mother of a 10 year old, this would be nothing new to me. And while I’m certain there are inherent risks involved when 20 dogs get together on leads, I also realize that many animal-related organizations host “Paws for a Cause” sorts of walks every year, so I can’t be dreaming up something totally insane. Well, I could be, but maybe not this time around.

I guess I’m looking for feedback. Am I nuts? Is this bound for failure? Should I just stick to paying a “professional” to train him to “leave it” when it comes to other dogs? Or is socializing my dog on and off (off at the Bark Park) his leash a better idea? If you have a dog (or imagine that you do for a moment) would you participate in a neighborhood dog walk? Maybe you’ve attended one of these “Paws for a Cause” events? Do you have a dog with similar issues to mine? I just find myself so incredibly envious of people who go to the park with their dogs (on or off lead) and can walk around the place without a single concern to their dog meeting up with another and reacting badly to it. I want to go to a picnic with my dog and not have to ask if another dog will be there. I want to go watch the teams play football and baseball at the park and not have to yank my dog away from the other ones he comes across. I want to be a HAPPY CANINE OWNER!!!

Okay, I’ll try to get some sleep. I know, I obviously need it. Although, by morning I might have solved all world issues. Maybe.

Maybe it’s because V-day is a week away. Maybe it’s the glass of wine I had tonight. Maybe it’s because I watched “Legends of the Fall” and then “City of “Angels” this week. Maybe it’s because I’m reading Anna Karenin.

I browsed through the profiles on match.com tonight. I know, I know, I SWORE never again. But I did not subscribe!!! I didn’t!! I swear!! I did make my profile active again, but I did NOT subscribe, I promise!!

The thing is, so many of the photos that came up from my search, I’ve seen before. These men are STILL looking. That scares me. Is there truly no hope? Isn’t there some sort of a time limit on trying to find your match? Can’t there at least be the comfort of “at least I know two years is the MOST I’ll have to wait”? I guess not.

I don’t know that I’m really ready to date yet. I really don’t. But I guess there’s a part of me that wants to put a foot out the door and entertain the notion that maybe just maybe it will go well. I realized, in a conversation with G the other night, that it has been months since I have gone out, and well over 18 months since I’ve had a date. Maybe it’s time to at least test the waters. Maybe.

Or maybe it’s just that V-day sucks.

Maybe.

Don’t worry, I’ll recover quickly. Tonight I’m watching “The Untouchables”.

I have this thing about books. I really didn’t even put my finger on it until I was pressed to explain it to someone once. The conversation had come up about getting a book from the library and I simply stated I never read books from the library. I mean to say, I did as a child, but once I reached an age where it was up to me to determine where my books came from, the library has NOT ONCE been the choice.

As I tried to explain why, I began to realize the lengths to which I had gone in college to not spend time in the library and certainly to not actually read something from the library. If I had to find 5 journal articles on a topic and then write a paper, I went, found them, COPIED them, took them home and wrote the paper (keep in mind, the internet wasn’t around just yet, not around as it is now anyways or dear god I would have never left my dorm room at all!)

Books to me are a sacred experience. They tell a story, move a person, relate in some manner by similarity or complete lack thereof to my own life. A library book clearly shows wear, it’s tarnish surface tells me that someone else has read this book (duh, I know) and that someone else has already HAD this experience. And therefore, I don’t want it. I want the experience to be my own. I want to hold it and read it and relate to it and know that it was personal, and just for me. A library book feels used, tapped out, emotionless. A new book is waiting for me and ONLY me to pick it up and read it.

This is not to say that I don’t like to hear about people reading books that I have read. For example, if someone were to say, “Did you read Kite Runner?” I would be thrilled to know that they read it and to have someone to talk to about the book. But I can only do so knowing they didn’t read MY copy of Kite Runner. Lending someone my book is an easier task, however, than me borrowing a book. I just won’t do it. If you say it’s a great read, then I’ll go get my own copy to read. (I also realize you don’t italicize book titles, but I can’t figure out how to underline…)

And I realize, this isn’t very frugal of me at all. You’ll have to forgive me this luxury. There is a certain sense of accomplishment, however, when I look around my house and see all the books that I have read.

Another issue I have with books is knowing too much before you’ve even started. I’m much the same way about movies. Tell me it’s good and tell me nothing more. When I shop for new books, it’s by one of two ways. One: I browse Barnes and Noble and pick up books simply because I’ve read the author before, because the title catches me, or because the front cover is somehow intriguing. If I read anything, I will read the inside flap and ONLY the first sentence. “She was an African women by heritage, now living in Bangkok…” that’s all I want to know. If I were to read the entire flap, I would know half of the book’s plot before I even started reading. I don’t want to know!! I don’t want to hear that her brother was a missionary and was killed by locals in a remote forest in Asia. I don’t want to know that the book’s main point is to drive home the absurdities of stereotypes. I don’t want to know the lesson, the moral, the plot, the character, any of it, until I’ve read it. The other way is to log on to Amazon.com and see what they recommend for me. I update the list according to what I own and what I have no interest in and they tell me other great titles I might enjoy. Voila! Recommendations without me having to know anything at all!

So, not only will I only read a new book, I will only read a book that I know very little about. Which is why I cannot, under any circumstances, read a book with “Oprah’s Book Club” stamped right on it. Millions of people are currently reading that very same book, and just turning on the tv I will hear more about the book than I want to before I’ve even started it. Too trendy, too popular and too much information. Not for me.

So, considering all of this (and thank you for not sending me to the nut farm just yet), paired with my extreme boredom at work, I recently found books online and decided to read Tolstoy’s Anna Karenin. Why not? I’ve never read it and here it is!

While I am really not in favor of reading a “book” on the computer, it has had its advantages. First of all, there is no appearance at all if someone else has read this “book”. There is no binding to be broken, to pages to be dog-eared, nothing. And secondly, I have no idea how long it actually is, or how close I am to the end of it, so as I progress, anything and everything is possible. I’m not reading quickly because I know I’ve reached the “wrap it up” part, I’m not plodding through looking for clues in every statement knowing that I’m at a critical juncture of the book. I’m reading it as it comes to me and I’m enjoying it tremendously.

Now, all this said, it’s killing my eyes and my back and makes me miss being curled up under warm blankets, propped up by oodles of pillows on the couch just to spend the afternoon reading, but it’s passing the time nicely and better yet, it isn’t costing me a dime! (In fact, I’m technically getting paid to do it!)

So, here’s to online books! Now, back to Tolstoy — I have to go finish it before someone tells me what happens!

I remember meeting Bear for the first time with my Dad. I think we had driven my sister part way to school and then Bear was meeting us to take her the rest of the way. We pulled into the parking lot and Bear came out to meet us and the first words he uttered were, “Hey Jules, guess what movie I seen last night?” I still shudder. He liked country music and Nascar. He ate ketchup on everything and by everything I mean mashed potatoes and Pringles included. A plate of 6 cheesey hot dogs was a single serving for him, not a dish for the whole family to share. He was from a small town in Michigan and coming to visit us later on in Illinois might very well have been the first time he was out of his own state.

Within a few years of Bear joining our family, Bear became the big brother I never had. He broke the ice by saying things in front of my dad that none of us would dare say. He teased my little brother to no end, picking him up and putting his feet on the ceiling until he begged for mercy – then doing it a hundred times more when G begged for more. Within a few more years, I started listening to country music myself and after buying Bear tickets to go see a Nascar race, I got hooked on the sport, too.

Bear has introduced my family to some of the most politically incorrect sayings of all time, along with many others that will make you laugh until you cry. Ride with him (there is no such thing as driving with Bear in the car with you – he always drives) just once and you’ll learn a hundred new ways to exercise road rage verbally. There have been times when LM has gone directly from time with my family at Julie and Bear’s house to spending time with my ex’s family, and during the ride in between, I am reminding LM not to repeat ANY of the things he heard Uncle Bear say during the last few days.

All things considered, from my first impression of this grammatical nightmare of a man, Bear has been such a fun brother to have around. Family get togethers are more fun because he’s there (mainly because he’s not afraid to speak his mind). I am glad he’s a part of our family, and I’m so thrilled to call him my brother.

Happy Birthday, Bear!