Faith, Hope, and Love

Whoever said it gets easier in Year 2 is a lair.   My second year of teaching is just as stressful (and occassionally more) than my first year. Granted I haven't broken down into uncontrollable tears yet (well, there was that one time...) and I actually know what I'm teaching the kids each day.   But... that's the problem. Since I know all the horrible mistakes I made the first go around, I'm bending over backwards and practically killing myself to make improvements. I still find myself at school until 9pm and being the last car in the parking lot. I still find myself knocking out while grading and frantically waking up at 4am to finish lesson planning. And I still find myself to close to no personal life.   But I still love what I do. It's a lot of fun. It's fulfilling. I'm more confident. And over the last month, it really has gotten better. So maybe that person wasn't such a big liar after all. In Year 1, things only got better after th

So... I've figured out 63 things to add to my 1001 list . Thanks to Texas Monthly . Apparently they've done issues like this here and there in the past. And maybe, if I find the time and go through all of them, they can help me add to my list. I forgot I bought this one and just found it as I was packing and purging my apartment. And reading through it again, I probably don't have 63 things on my list because while I do want to take the ultimate road trip from Dalhart, Texas to Brownsville, Texas (apparently nearly 850 miles!), I do not really want to play Chicken Sh*t Bingo in Austin. Nor do I want to eat calf fries. And since I don't like beer or Dr. Pepper, I'd be willing, but highly reluctant to drink a free beer at the K. Spoetzl Brewery in Shiner or drink a Dublin Dr. Pepper. And then some things I've already done. Like visiting the State Fair of Texas in Dallas (duh, that's my hometown! or region... Fort Worth is really home). And while

I'm in the process of packing up my stuff to get ready for my move in a few weeks and I've been unearthing quite a few things that have brought back tons of memories and tons of laughs. One thing I seem to have a surplus of is notebooks, notepads and journals. One I recorded interview notes from my active journalism days. Ones I wrote down plays or Biblical vignettes for church. And of course, the journals with all my thoughts and dreams. I found my most recent journal. The last entry was dated a year ago. It's incomplete. I'm not sure why I never finished it. Although, it doesn't really surprise me that I didn't. But reading over this last entry made me smile... A year ago, I was offered my teaching job at YES. And much like with my magazine job, it all worked out at the last-minute. A blessing poured out when I was ready to give up. The job at CURE came right on the heels of my internship with the Dallas Morning News. I remember, it was

The short burst of fun and excitement, bookmarked between stretches of infinite boredom, a constant reminder of the loneliness. Distant friends, and nearby strangers. Unshared sorrows, broken heart. Hollow laughter masking hidden sobs. Solitude is overrated.

I own a lot of books. The four bookshelves in my apartments are almost completely full, and this does not count the ones I have stacked on my desk, the piano or the floor. These also do not include the five bookshelves I took to my classroom, or the half a dozen or more milk crates I've converted into book storage. In both places, I've run out of space... and I just keep buying more books. I can't help myself. It's like an addiction. When I'm feeling blue, the best pick-me-up is going on Amazon and with one click, filling my basket. It's even better to walk into an actual bookstore, flip the pages, and take in that new-book smell. I've had to ban myself from both in recent weeks. While my bank account is thanking me, my habit isn't. The funny thing, perhaps, is that I actually haven't read all the books I own. I'm like a collector that way, I suppose. I buy books just to have them... although, unlike a collector, I actually do wa

I haven't been to church in what feels like, and probably is,  months . I just got tired of church hopping. After living in Houston for almost a year, I had been to at least eight different churches. And while there were a few churches I went to for weeks at a time, I hated the awkward, out-of-place feeling I had while there. I just wanted the whole thing to be over with. I just wanted to belong somewhere. And then one Sunday, there was an excuse not to go visit a new church or go to an old one. Can't remember what it was. But oh, what a slippery slope that became. Suddenly there was an excuse for every Sunday. I was out of town. I didn't feel well. I was going to be late. And then the day came when I decided, why bother until I know where I'm going to live next? I was ready to put an end to the church hopping routine and settle down, but I couldn't do that until I was settled, right? If my dad ever reads this, I know he'll be appalled. As would probably my

I still have weeks before I get the keys and can move into my new place... but that doesn't mean I can't dream of all the things I'll do to it once I get there! Headboard is Big Project #1 . But another thing I'll definitely need to work on is the bathroom. Cause, it's tiny . Yup... that's it. Super narrow and not a lot of space for anything besides what's already in there. There is a small linen closet (which you can't see), and there is a little bit of storage space under the sink, but that's more or less it. So, I'll need to utilize the wall space as much as possible. Solution #1: Creative and Space-Saving Storage I have tons of little buckets already, and tend to buy more from the $1 aisle at Target all the time (they are just too cute to resist!). And since there really is no counter space in the bathroom and the vanity/medicine cabinet isn't really usable, I thought this was a fun and cute solution. That fits my style, too.

It's so easy for me to put things on the back burner in my life. Even if they are important to me. It's what I've done with playing the piano. Off and on lessons since I was six, a whole year of lessons in college, some months in grad school... and now I'm in group lessons. Am I any good? I wouldn't say so. Which is what frustrated me. And why it is easy for me to put practicing on the back burner. I mean, I'm never going to be a prodigy pianist and I'll probably never wow anyone with my skills with Tchaikovsky. But... I miss playing. Which is why I'm taking lessons again. And while my longing to play might stem from nostalgic memories of Mrs. Potter's home recitals, that longing is still there. Now that I'm taking classes again, I still probably don't practice as much as I should though. Having a roommate made me nervous to play and make mistakes in her presence. And even making mistakes on my own is frustrating and I feel angry and asham

I grew up in the church. My dad was my very first pastor. He gave me my first Bible. He baptized me. Most of my childhood was spent living in (or very close) to a seminary and therefore between home and church, I was surrounded by other Christians. In fact, it probably wasn't until I hit high school that I had any close friends who didn't believe in Christ and didn't go to church every Sunday (and most likely on Wednesdays, too). I don't really remembered the day I definitely asked Christ into my life. Although, I do remember something about a 5,000 piece puzzle. Walking into our bedroom and watching sunlight filter onto the unfinished piece, illuminating it in a way I thought was beautiful. Somewhere in that moment, I knew. There definitely was a God and I wanted Him to make me just as beautiful. Whether that's a figment of my overactive imagination, or how I really came to "accept Christ," I really don't know. But I do know that over the yea

I have a friend who keeps an ongoing "bucket list." Her name is Lizzie. She's quite eccentric for barely being over 25, but that's one of the things I love most about her. In her life it seemed that every day was a dream being lived out and fulfilled. She made plans... and she executed them. I always got a slight chills whenever she'd pull out her journal full of things she planned to do before she died. And I'd love listening to some of the bizzare things, as well as the mundane ones she had written down. The chills came whenever she was checking things off. I noticed a similar "bucket list" of sorts on a blog I follow... allison writes: 101 in 1001 . And now I really want to make a list of things I'd love to have done by the time I'm 30, or 40, or just before I'm dead, haha. At the moment, I can't think of much. So... wanna help? Leave me a comment with some things you think I should add to my list. Adventures. Travels. Creati

In exactly a month, I'll be getting the keys to my new apartment. And I can't wait . It's in the Heights, which is one of my favorite neightborhoods in Houston. The houses have such old charm and I love the bright exterior colors. There are some newer builds, too, but even they have quite a level of charm. I drove some friends around the neighborhood over the weekend and we "oohed" and "ahhed" at the wrap-around porches and the stately exteriors. Example of a Heights Home My little home lacks the same level of charm on the outside, but once I saw the inside I was sold. It's hardwood floors throughout, which are old and in some parts a little uneven, but obviously in good condition. And while the bathroom is kind of tiny/narrow and there isn't a lot of cabinet space in the kitchen... it's a place I can make home . And home isn't something I've had... well, since 2006. The other day, my brother compared me to a Fulani. I'

It never fails that within a given week someone   seemingly has to ask me, "So... do you have a boyfriend?", "So who's the lucky man?" or something along that lines. It doesn't matter if we've been friends for ages and just haven't seen each other in a while, or you've just met me a few months, days or hours ago. It somehow always creeps up. And when I say, "No... No one..." with a sweet smile on my face, the answer is always a variation of three things: 1. "Don't worry, your own time will come soon." (Really? I wasn't worried until you said that , now I'm worried that something is the matter since "my time" hasn't come yet. Thanks.) 2. "Oh, why are you being picky? Or are you just waiting until you're sure ? (Actually, no one is even remotely interested in me. Or at least no one I'm aware of. Thanks for reminding me of that fact.) 3. "We've got to find someone for you!&q

One of my high school BFFs is a GENIUS. As you know from previous posts, Beauty and the Beast is one of my favorite Disney movies . Todrick made a parody of the opening number. Watch it. Be amazed. And laugh your butt off. I did.   Besides Todrick 's many costume changes, there are just so many great one-liners! I think one of my favorite lines is the "Look... isn't this a hot mess. Who would name their first child Blu Ivy?" Hehe. P.S. I know it's like 6 months early, but if you're looking for a new Christmas album to buy. You should check out Tod's :)

I've yet to jump on the Pintrest bandwagon, but my cousin sent me a link to a Pintrest page that I am in LOVE with. As people who know me, and anyone who has followed this blog long enough, know... I am a big reader. I own a lot of books and have the "bad" habit of constantly buying more. I'm currently out of shelf space in my apartment, and half (maybe more) of the books I own are at school. One day, when I build my dream home (or renovate whatever home I end up in), having a library will be essential. Or at least having a place to put all of my books (with room for growth) is essential. Here are some of my favorite ideas from Pintrest: Great use of space! If I have stairs in my dream home, this is totally happening! One day I hope to have a little "Writer's Nook" in my house. Something like this would be perfect. And again, great use of space! I dream of having a bay window with a window seat that I curl up with a good book in. On

I have never kept a budget. Appalling, I know. Numbers just stress me out. I've always liked words better. I mean, I can't even remember a 10-digit phone number . It took me years to memorize my social security number. One of my exes was always irritated that I wanted directions to include exit names and not the exit numbers (still do, by the way). And let's not even talk about sticking to the budget. I'm not very good at coloring within the lines (figuratively; I actually am slightly OCD about doing that literally). I've planned to only spend X amount of money on something and then completely go crazy once I start spending. I always find a reason to spend just a little bit more. And not necessarily on me (although, when it comes to books, it's always one me). I just see things that I think people in my life would like and make the purchase. This definitely comes back to bite me on the butt later. For the 10 months, I haven't thought much about how mu

It's half past 3. Morning, not afternoon.  And I've just finished reading "Me Before You" by JoJo Moyes . It was one of the books I purchased in London. (You might think it silly, but my very first purchases, besides train tickets, were books. Even though I had my Kindle and I had brought a few real books, too. My second was a cute satchel to put the books in... Ha!) I began reading it this morning, and could barely put it down. Of course, I did to take care of my growing pile of laundry and to spend a few hours with friends after a clothes swap (my first! But more on that later). I got home around 11pm, and just couldn't stop reading this book. You might remember how I felt about " Thanks for the Memories " or " Sweet Love "... this was better. I can't really tell you what the book is about. To do so would give it all away. The blurb on the back did it very little justice... I thought I'd be a silly bit of chick-lit (which I lo

Paris was not a part of the original plan. The original plan was simply London. Arrive a week before the wedding, spend time with the groom, meet the bride, get in some good family bonding time. Cheer them on their special day and then back to the States! But then my friends got whiff of my plans to jet to London and insisted they come along. And since one of them happens to be a French teacher, who just happens to take a group of teens every Spring break, but hasn't really gone kid-free in a while (if ever), Paris of course got added to the list. One thing Becky (the French teacher friend) insisted we do in Paris is climb the Eiffel Tower. She had never done it. I didn't tell her this, but that fact appalled me considering how many times she's been. Wouldn't the Eiffel Tower have been a mandatory stop on a school-related trip? Apparently not. So, on our second full day in Paris, we took the subway down to the Eiffel Tower and began our quest. It was bright, it