Striking.

Isn't it? From Steve and Rhett's last week in Haiti.

Look what Janni did!

My baby sister graduated as valedictorian at Central Valley High School with a perfect 4.0 GPA, 8 AP classes under her belt, and tons of money to go to Willamette in the Fall!

Highlight Reel:

Don't be deceived by her seemingly naive and innocent smile. She is t-minus fifteen minutes to mouthing "that's what she said" on the jumbo-tron.
me: "dad, how come you're wearing your sunglasses inside?!"

dad: "Jack Nicholson."
No major life event should be chronicled sans tambourine. Note: it made just as much of a ruckus as the air horns being deployed throughout the arena. Serious.

A Walk In the Carnation

I Ain't Buyin It.

Yes folks, yet another bitter diatribe regarding the pathetic state of consumerism that plagues our nation.

I make myself sick.

A few months ago, while in church in Kansas City, I was struck my a clever little description the pastor gave regarding consumerism:

"Our country has been stricken with af-fluenza, this virus that causes us to be obsessed with creating the illusion of wealth. In particular, many Christians suffer from the H1N1 strain, that is 'have one, but need one".

my inner mind: (hummm. Funny, Pastor. Witty, even. But that's not me. *mentally sticks nose up in air*)

He talked about our lack of perspective when it comes to real wealth and how an accumulation of shiny things is of no significance in the realm of relationships. Really, if a man is a car collector and spends the years of his life trading parts, toiling in his garage, reading on the latest, what has he to show for it at his deathbed? Cars don't attend funerals. Please, we should be investing our time, funds, and energies into people.

Because our relationships are all we take with us.

This issue just reemerged on my radar because I have been fighting off affluenza for the past few weeks.

[Summer collections are out at Nordstrom.

I want a new Camelbak.

I want an ipod jack in my car.

I have bad hair.

I like jewelry.

Iphone 4.

I want an electronic reader to travel.

My friends have ridiculous sparklers on their fingers.

Don't I need that pretty blanket?

Don't I need that frame/shelf/lamp/shop vac for my house that I don't live in?!]

I want I want I want I want I want I want I want I want.

What an asshole.

So here is my declaration:

I will spend money to travel.

I will spend money on others, and ask them to pay it forward.

I will spend money to invest in the people in my life.

I will spend money in a way that I can defend at the pearly gates.

After all, as Miss Dolly Levi says: "Money is like manure, it's not worth a thing unless it's spread around encouraging young things to grow."

Throw it around, people. Leave the stuff at the store. Have experiences, build stories and friendships.

Love Love Love

Oh Fine!

I have been getting complaints about the lack of regularity with which I post on this dear blog.

shove it.

I don't get to blog while giving the illusion of work, and I don't sit behind a desk all day at work, thinking about what I can blog on next.

My method is much more raw. I go play, and then when I have some time to sit and reflect, it all comes tumbling out, for all of you to enjoy. Yes, I agree it's the blogging pattern of a bulimic, but I was never a fan of predictable patterns.

Stick with me, my friends.

Love Love Love.

Urgh.

and now, Ladies and Gents, for the stupid. One thing that all new homeowners experience, I'm convinced, is the urge to call the previous owners and demand a tour. A tour through the house explaining themselves and why there is so much stupidity in the house.

Now, in their defense I will openly admit that I had only spent a collective of 30 minutes in my house before purchasing it. But even still, there are so many non-obvious decisions only evident after you move in, buy out the home depot, and attempt to change some things. You discover that there are outlets lining the ceiling of your great room, moulding where it doesn't belong, and a fuse box in your office.

Know what happens? 75 minutes of buyers remorse. Your temples get hot, your palms sticky, and you suspect your throat might close up from anaphylactic shock. Yes, anaphylactic, due to an extreme allergy to overwhelmedness. You fight every urge to call your realtor and employ every excuse you can think of to back out of this deal, because you're sure there has to be some way out of this.

But then you get over it when you remember that, as therapy, you can take pictures of the stupid and post them on your blog. Then all of cyberspace can empathize with you. or laugh.

There are two of these in every bedroom. They are ugly. If you open the door, you will not find the other chamber to the magical land of Narnia. All that you'll find is a vent to the outside, allegedly with the purpose of circulating air through the bedroom. Who cares?! In my find, they are another thing to paint around. LAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMME.

Now who doesn't love a fire pit? Such an attractant to bring your friends over to roast smellows and find silly songs. Nothing like fire and fellowship to bring people together. Oh wait, the pig pen is so close, you cant even sit all the way around it. Oh yeah, and there's a pig pen in my yard.

I can't see in the mirror in my bathroom. Ah, no one wants to look at themselves while brushing their teeth, anyway right? WRONG. That's when I notice the stray eyebrow hairs and toothpaste on my shirt. Upon first discovery, I thought I would just rehang the vanity. No can do, Harriet Homeowner, it's built into the wall.

Obviously I got over all of these things. Because I still spent so much time working for four days straight that I came out looking like a battered woman. Gives the term domestic abuse a whole new interpretation, right? Shiest.

Who Needs Ty,

To stage your very own Extreme Home Makeover? Not this girl. Check out all the fun I had Ming-ing my new house.

Before: gross olive green, a confusing built in unit, and painted brick (red! who paints brick red?!

The kitchen definitely felt like a red coffin. Way too contemporary looking for my taste, it was harsh. I want whimsy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~five gallons of paint, three days, and four hours scrubbing my floors later.......

I love the transformation. I knew I wanted my walls to be a definite color, not just neutral or brown. This granny smith apple green is so bright and silly. In the search for a color to complement the kitchen's existing black and white everywhere, I decided to go big and just paint it Caribbean blue. It's real whimsical.

My house and I are currently in the most perfect phase. We're still honey mooning, and I havent made a mortgage payment yet. So far, it's bliss.

Shut up, I know this denial is short-lived.

Love Love Love.