i know. i'm blushing.

I woke up this morning to a bird outside my window. I love when that happens. I lay there in bed and listened to it chattering away. It was making all sorts of weird sounds, and it reminded me of one of my favorite youtube clips. It’s been a long time since I watched this, and it’s high time I saw it again. (I first saw this on my friend Alan’s blog almost a year ago, but I think it’s definitely worthy of reposting.)

Seriously, you’ll need to watch this to the end. And then probably a few more times from the top.

Amazing, no?!

PS. Can I tell you how much I hate the verbs “lay/laid/laying” and “lie/lay/lain.” I’m never sure if I’m using them properly, and I’m usually not. I just spent the last fifteen minutes digging through dictionaries and debating with my husband in an effort to figure out which word I should use up there at the top of this post. And it’s a good thing I did, ’cause I was wrong. (I had “laid.” It’s supposed to be “lay.” I think.) Sheesh. Who came up with this junk? And why do I care? If I ruled the world—or at least if I ruled the English language—they’d all be the same. Or at the very least, the past tense of one verb would NOT be the present tense of a different verb. Seriously.

Well, I figured it out.

I don’t know how it happened, but something clicked, and suddenly everything is right.

Remember my drought of ideas? How I struggled to muster up my go-power? How I was afraid of leaving my comfort zone? Or how about my inability to make big decisions without stewing over them f o r e v e r first?

I hesitate to say this because it sounds a little foolhardy, but I think I’m over it. At least for now. I know I’m not a different person—I still have the same personality flaws and weaknesses—but in some small way, I am different. Less hesitant, less fearful, more optimistic, more willing to step into the unknown. I found my momentum again. And let me tell you, the momentum is picking up.

Big changes are happening in my life. And what’s better, they’re big changes that I feel excited and confident about. I should probably admit that sometimes my confidence wanes, but those times always pass if I don’t cling to them. And since I’m being honest, you have to know that there’s still a little fear and nervousness with me in all this, but they don’t control me. Plus, I think those feelings are understandable. Especially considering what we’re doing.

We’re moving. To Seattle. That’s a place I’ve never been. We’re going without a place to live or a job lined up. Bryant and I are packing up our little cave of an apartment and simply driving away. I guess we’ll figure it all out when we get there. Oh yeah, did I mention, all this is happening really soon? Cause it is. In just over three weeks. Oh yeah, did I mention, I’m going back to school? Cause I am. Class starts the first week of January.

Oh, and did I mention, I couldn’t be happier. :)

You know what stinks?

Rotten garbage, flaming bags of dog poo, and when more than half of your entire blog post mysteriously disappears right after you finished writing the dang thing. As in, it was complete and all I had left to do was paste in one last link. It kind of puts me in too cranky of a mood to write it over again right now. Maybe later I will, but at the moment I think I’ll go kick a tree. Just kidding. I like trees. Maybe I’ll go hug one instead.

Meh.

Bryant and I are constantly mistaken for people about a decade younger than we really are. Today a stranger asked Bryant, “Hey are you the fellow who just got back from his mission?” Hah, no. Because that would make him around 21 years old, and he’s turning 31 next month.

Every time I see a particular woman who lives nearby, she tells me that she once again mistook me for a 15-year old as I approached.

Really? Why would you tell me that? More over, why would you tell me that every time I see you?

Yes, yes, I know “I’ll love it when I’m 50.”

But you know what? I’m not 50. I’m just a week shy of 25, not 15. And even though I’ve gotten quite good at laughing it off, it’s still the slightest bit insulting to constantly be thought of as a teenager. I graduated from college over two years ago. I have a bachelors in economics. And I’m married for goodness sake.

Thankfully, people who actually know me by more than just sight don’t mistake me for a teenager, and they certainly know I don’t act like one (all the time). But even so, every now and then I get the sense that I’m not being taken seriously. And it bugs. Sometimes I can’t wait for saggy skin and wrinkles.

Mmm, actually on second thought, I can.

I just spent the last hour memorizing the names of all 53 African countries just so that I could get 100% on this quiz.

I can do it in three and a half minutes. And just because I’m that way, I memorized the locations of the countries, too. …What’s awesome is that I’m proud enough of this accomplishment to blog about it.

I’d be such a good third grader.

I substitute taught today. I was a chorus teacher for lots and lots of hyper elementary and middle school kids.

It was a pretty entertaining day. If I had to pick the most amusing highlight from the whole experience, I’d probably choose meeting a fifth grader who, I swear, was the real-life version of Russell from the movie Up.

The face; the body; the quirky, insistent, do-gooder personality; even the way he moved… everything fit to a T. And he seemed like the kind of boy who had already earned his fair share of merit badges. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Pixar’s animators know this kid. For real.

(And by the way, I love that movie. Looking for images of Russell made me want to watch it again. Right now.)