I knew then the trip was changing my life, and it’s an odd feeling to be aware of such a change as it’s happening to you. But what I didn’t expect is the lasting impact it’s having on me. I find myself often thinking of Ecuador: the kids dancing at Colinas del Norte, Pastora Ruth singing to us after VBS, school kids racing to hug us.

I’ve struggled lately with being happy with all that I have when I know the people in Ecuador have so little. I nearly had a nervous break down Christmas shopping, because I felt like I was slapping God in the face by buying stuff that makes me happy but doesn’t feed or clothe me. Why should I have all these wonderful things (and that’s what they are – just things) when people in Ecuador face poverty with potentially no way out of it?

My head knows that God doesn’t want me to feel guilty. My head knows that God wants me to know his compassion and then share it with others. My head knows that God sent me on that trip to show me how his plan continues on in the face of impossible obstacles.

But my heart tells me I’m wasteful, shallow, selfish.

And, well, I am wasteful. I am shallow. I am selfish. And I may be a few more adjectives I’d rather not share. But I’m thankful that I love and follow a god that put me on a path (or plane?) to overcome those bad traits.

Because of God, because of Ecuador, I know…

• …the world is unfair, but we don’t need the world. We only need God.
• …at times I will doubt that all I need is God.
• …my family is financially blessed. And that’s a good thing because it allows us to help others.
• …church family is crucial to survival and growing in faith.
• …God’s always there, even if I can’t see him through the muck of my own self centeredness.
• …I’ll never understand why some people suffer and some don’t. And it’s OK to be sad about it. But it’s not OK to wallow. I have to get out there and do something about it!

So no more guilt. Instead I’ll focus on love. God loves me so that I can love others. Guilt is just another ploy for me to focus on me, but love forces me to look outside of myself. Guilt is inward, but love is shared. Guilt is stifling, but love is action.

I managed to catch a nasty cold just in time for New Years Eve, and it was one of those that forces you to rest all day, even though you don’t really want to. But ironically, I think the rest helped me over all, because I woke up on fire this morning! I’m NEVER “on fire” at 6:00 on a Monday morning (OK, at 6:00 on any morning). Especially this particular morning since it was only 18 degrees outside!

New Years is a time to reflect, and in that spirit I’m reviewing the books I read in 2009. Not all of these were stellar choices, but I stopped feeling guilty about unfinished books a long time ago. If I’m not hooked by page 100, I’m done! Actually, I start getting skeptical around page 50. I’m too busy to waste time on a boring book, even if it is a “classic.”

Here’s a quick run down for my 2009 reads:

• Favorite book: Water for Elephants
• Least favorite: The Shack (don’t get me started)
• The movie didn’t live up to the book: The Time Traveler’s Wife
• The movie was better! Confessions of a Shopaholic

You can also click each book cover to see my rating and a quick review of it.

My 2009 Reads

Rachel’s favorite books »

Normally this rule is easy to follow (despite my love for Christmas music), because I’m in the church choir. Around September we start practicing music for the Christmas cantata, and by November we are having extra rehearsals devoted to only the cantata music. It’s Heaven!

However, this morning I don’t know what happened. I cranked my car and 104.7 The Fish greeted me as usual. I can always count on them, because they wait until the Friday after Thanksgiving to start playing Christmas music. So I was confused when I heard the DJ say, “It’s The Fish Holiday season…” and proceeded to play “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.”

Well that was all it took. I’m like a junkie – a Christmas music junkie – and I needed a fix. But I was maintaining. I was OK. I was going to make it to Thanksgiving dang it! Mind over matter!

But here’s the thing. I love Christmas music. No I mean, I LOVE it. I have Christmas music on my iPhone all the time. I never know when I’ll need to hear “O Come, O Come Emanuel” or “O Holy Night.” Usually in the sweltering sauna we call August around here, I can listen to one song and I’m good.

But in November? With the leaves falling and the wind blowing? With my excitement that my parents will be here in less than 24 hours? With pumpkin pie waiting for me? How could I resist? It was the perfect storm. So I gave in. I sang along with the radio and then switched to my own music. It was a holiday hoedown in my car all the way to work this morning!

I’ve managed to regain control of myself, so I won’t be singing “Frosty the Snowman” while I cook the ham. Baby steps. I can do this.

The picture above is a word cloud of all the posts on this blog (click the image for a larger version). I used Wordle to make it. The size of the word is proportional to how often it’s used. So I think about Roger, Amelia, and Christmas the most. Makes sense – they’re 3 of my favorite things.

On a trip to visit my parents, Roger and I turned onto one of the many back roads in Wilmer and were pelted with splatterings to the windshield. Like any born and raised Gulf Coast girl, I knew exactly what was happening – love bugs flying like mindless idiots. There are so many of them that you often mistake them for rain, until you realize wait, rain doesn’t leave smudges . . . ewww. Welcome to Alabama my friends!

The curious thing is, I hadn’t realized it was love bug season yet (oh yes, there’s a season – the bugs show up twice a year every year). And that’s when I fell in love with Atlanta all over again. Sure, we drive on 7 lanes of I-75 in mind-numbing traffic while risking our lives as we dodge 18-wheelers trying to merge onto 285. But I’ll take it any day over swarms of love bugs.

However, mosquitoes do inhabit Atlanta. I should know. I was bit 7 times this weekend. And I won’t mention the huge black spiders I’ve seen in our garage (even Roger thinks they’re big).

Attention all bugs: you can bite me! Well, you know what I mean.

One day they taught us the song “My Old Man.” They told us the words were:

My old man’s a sailor, what do you think about that?
He wears a sailor’s collar, he wears a sailor’s hat.
He wears a sailor’s raincoat, he wears a sailor’s shoes,
and every Saturday evening he reads the sailor’s news.
And someday,
if I can,
I’m gonna be a sailor, the same as my old man.

Then they said we were supposed to substitute our own father’s occupation for the word “sailor.” Well I wasn’t sure what my dad’s title was. I guess I wasn’t the only one because the teacher told us we could ask our dads about it when we got home, and we’d sing the song again tomorrow.

So I headed off home, and do you know what my dad’s title is? SYSTEMS ANALYST. When I told him about the song, he started cracking up. So I tried all night to fit the 5-syllable word where the simple-and-easy “sailor” was before. But hey, I loved a challenge.

I mastered that song and I never forgot my dad’s job title. I’m sure I surprised many an elementary teacher later when they asked, “And what does your father do for a living?” And my 8-year-old face lit up and rattled off, “He’s a systems analyst!” Yeah, take THAT Miss Teacher! Just don’t ask me to spell it.

On a sidenote, I was trying to find the words to “My Old Man” online because I couldn’t remember every line. And I came across a hilarious Smothers Brothers routine. It’s a fitting find, because I used to watch the Smothers Brothers show with my parents. I loved Tom Smothers as the yo-yo man.

What’s your dad’s job title? Or your mom’s? You could change the song to “My Old Lady.” Although I guess that would mean your wife. Well, whatever. Can you top systems analyst?

Oh it’s so easy to look back now and say “what was I thinking?” But it’s a different story when you’re on the actual date. Wouldn’t it have been great to have a friend tell you back then that what you’re doing is against the rules of dating? OK, so you probably wouldn’t have listened (I know I wouldn’t). I’m happily married now, but I didn’t get there without breaking a few of the rules and learning some hard, seemingly obvious lessons.

So in the spirit of sharing, here are the rules we came up with today. These are just suggestions and like most things do not apply to all situations.

And no, these rules are not all from my own experience.

Suggested Rules of Dating

• Never give out your personal information (home address, work place, etc) unless you enjoy unexpected visitors.
• Pass on dinner for the first date and go with something simple like a cup of coffee. You don’t want to commit yourself to a few hours with someone until you know you can stand a few hours with them.
• Ladies, guys don’t talk about weddings for fun. If he brings up a wedding, and you have no interest in marrying him, it’s time to move on.
• Ladies, it’s cool you have a platonic single guy friend. But guess what – guys don’t buy that (unless the friend is super, never-gonna-be-interested-in-women gay). Be prepared for jealousy. But it’s fair. After all, would you want your guy hanging out with any single girl whatsoever? Be honest now.
• Guys, if a girl suggests an expensive restaurant on the first date, watch out. She’s either looking for a free meal or she’s just high maintenance.
• Don’t meet people on My Space.
• Don’t get someone’s phone number while you’re on a date with another person.
• Don’t date people from work. Breakups are awkward. Or if it goes well, you’ll find that you can’t separate life from work. I guess if you hate your job and you’re looking to move on anyway, then date away!
• Be cautious about dating people at church. Again, breakups can get awkward. And church shopping is no fun.
• Use discretion when evaluating emails from online dating sites. If the person writes, “your purty. lets hook up,” then you probably need to pass.
• If the person is not over the ex then don’t get involved. So how do you know if the person is still hung up on the ex? Tell-tale signs include:
  • The ex calls the person to say they miss them, and then the person tells you the ex called.
  • The person talks incessantly about their ex.
  • The person tells you they are not over their ex.
  • You find pictures or small photo albums of the ex in the person’s car, house, etc.
• Do not date people who are “not fully divorced yet.” Uh, yeah, that means they’re still married. “Separated” doesn’t count. Those peeps are married too! You don’t want the rage of a jealous spouse ruining your day. Can you say the Tyra show?

Feel free to add more suggestions in the comments. I know there are tons of lessons to be learned. Maybe my next post should be about dates from Hell. Those are always fun to talk about once you’ve survived!

I wrote about two chapters before losing interest. The funny part is that I chose to write a science fiction book. I never read science fiction then or now, so I have no idea where my crazy desire to write in that genre came from.

Then I started thinking about all my childhood interests and how much they’ve changed (or stayed the same) as I grew up. I’ve come a long ways from wanting to be a cheerleader (oh yes, it’s true) but not that far from some of my other career choices.

I wanted to be a . . .

• cheerleader (kindergarten – I think I was infatuated with pom poms or something.)
• dentist (kindergarten – I’m glad I lost this interest. Teeth are gross.)
• teacher (this hit me around 1st grade and stuck with me for a long time)
• astronaut (hmm, perhaps this is where science fiction started?)
• lawyer (5th grade – I’d have been good at this . . . until someone tried to disagree with me.)
• artist (around age 10 – this was after I saw street performers in New Orleans for the first time)
• radio DJ (around middle school – at the time I didn’t realize shy people had no future in radio)
• engineer (this was a fleeting moment in my college career)
• creative writer (high school and college)
• English teacher (I came almost full circle. Still waiting on that cheerleader instinct to kick back in.)

I became a . . .

• grocery store cashier
• high school English teacher
• technical support manager
• technical writer

The important (and amazing) thing is I’m happy. I like my job, because it lets me pull from different interests – even cheerleading (I often cheer when I see good grammar being used in the wild). I haven’t found a way to work in my astronaut interest yet – other than checking out NASA’s photo of the day. I guess that will do for now.

How far is your career path from your original kindergarten dreams?

Interesting fact about the song (from Wikipedia):

On 24 December 1906, Reginald Fessenden, a Canadian inventor, broadcast the first AM radio program, which included him playing “O Holy Night” on the violin. The carol therefore appears to have been the first piece of music to be broadcast on radio.

I don’t think it’s an accident this song has endured so long. Take time to read the lyrics this season. Or if you want to hear it in all its musical glory, our church choir director will be singing it at our Christmas program on December 14.

O holy night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of our dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
'Til He appear'd and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees! O, hear the angels' voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born;
O night divine, O night, O night Divine.

Led by the light of Faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming,
Here come the wise men from Orient land.
The King of Kings lay thus in lowly manger;
In all our trials born to be our friend.

He knows our need, to our weakness is no stranger,
Behold your King! Before Him lowly bend!
Behold your King, Behold your King.

Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother;
And in His name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy name.

Christ is the Lord! O praise His Name forever,
His power and glory evermore proclaim.
His power and glory evermore proclaim.

Every time I start a project, the hardest part is getting started. I have to constantly remind myself it won’t be that bad once I dive in. I may even have fun with it. And time and time again, I prove this to be true. But time and time again, I fail to be comforted by this when I start a new project.

I’ve narrowed down part of the problem – grades. When I start a project for work, I’m never intimidated. I know that any failure is really a success in that I’ve learned of an option or path that won’t work. Hurray! I won’t make that mistake again. But slap a grade on a project, and it’s another story. Sure, I’m graded at work via performance reviews and my peers’ opinions, but no one’s standing around saying “You get a B for your work on that user guide.” Or at least, if they did, I’d be well within my rights to kick them.

So why do I let something like grades push me around? In all the professors and teachers I’ve encountered, only a handful of them were actually sticks in the mud who refused to help me. Most professors are ecstatic when a student has a question about an assignment. It shows you’re actually trying and taking it seriously. But for some reason, no matter how many questions I ask or how well I prepare, I am always scared when starting a project and when finally turning it in.

I think the problem for me is that grades are so final. I work on a project, turn it in, get a grade, and I’m done. And if I get a bad grade, I just have to live with it FOREVER. This never happens at work. If I complete a project and it doesn’t meet expectations, you better believe my boss is going to ask me to do it again or add to it.  But I don’t get this chance at school, and it frustrates the heck out of me. And it ups the fear, because whatever my first attempt results in is what I have to live with forever.

Is this what it’s like to be an OCD perfectionist? I can’t wait to graduate – not just for the accomplishment, but for the end of big, bad, mean ole grades trying to cramp my style!