The idea of growing old

My 21st birthday, a surprise party perfectly orchestrated by my wonderful roomie, Alex

So, today I'm 25. While I won't be hearing from AARP anytime soon or eating dinner at 4:30, I do feel sad to see 24 go. I liked being 24; while nothing monumental happened like some of the other ages (21, I got engaged; 22, I got married and graduated from college; 23, I got a grown up job and became a homeowner), 24 was nice because I felt like I finally figured out how to be some form of an adult. I didn't feel like an impostor anymore. I wasn't playing adult wearing my mom's old dress and Wizard of Oz ruby slippers; I really was one — or at least people had started giving into my delusion. Now I have to learn how to be a 25 year old when I'd just mastered the whole 24 thing.

Whenever I played Barbies, 25 was the age where she had it together. At 25, my Barbie was a wife, professional cheerleader/astronaut/teacher/McDonald's drive-through worker/veterinarian/gymnast, mother, and homeowner (of the Barbie Dream House, of course) and drove a red Mustang. She had plenty of time to brush her hair with an largely disproportionate hair brush and try on hundreds of pairs of stilettos (and leave two or three out for dad to step on later). Being 25 was where it was at, so I thought.

Getting older used to be awesome. As a kid all you want to do is be older because it comes with more perceived abilities. You can stay up later, pick out your own clothes, ride your bike farther down the street, get you learner's permit, get out of middle school, etc. I think my 4-year-old self explained it best when asked what being five meant and begrudgingly replied, "More responsibilities." Yes, little Jennifer, that's all it really is.

Sometimes, the idea of getting older seems a little scary and less than awesome. Luckily, I've got my best friend to grow old with. In our wedding, Scott and I played the song "The Idea of Growing Old" by The Features, which says in the chorus, "You turn me on to the idea of growing old." Now because of Scott the gray hair and crowsfeet don't seem so scary; whatever lies ahead doesn't seem so bad. He'll be there with his receding hairline and reading glasses with me. It's always nice to have someone to go to the early bird specials with and help find your dentures.

Run, Jennifer. Run!

Race for the Cure, 2007

As you might have read here, I haven't been doing so well at this whole working out thing. And by "not so well," I mean not at all. Not even a little, bitty bit. The most exercise I get is walking to and from the car each day (I do use the stairs to go to my office though. Gold star for effort?) and lifting food to shovel into my mouth.

I realized that, if I was really going to stick with a workout program, I needed some kind of goal, and I needed to have some way of keeping myself accountable to whatever program I adopted. I decided to download the Couch to 5K app for my iPod and train to run a 5K.

Couch to 5K gradually builds your running/walking time over a nine-week period with running a 5K in its entirety at the end. The app is pretty neat. It tells you whether to run or walk and keeps up with your time, which made my workout go by faster as I wasn't staring at the timer on the treadmill wondering if it was time for me to be done yet. Although, when the electronic guy voice commanding me to run, it creeps me out. I picture a kidnapper standing behind me with a chloroform rag in his hand. Evading a kidnapper is pretty good motivation to run, I think — that and a cheeseburger dangling in front of you.

The program encourages you to choose a 5K race in your area to participate in. Lucky for me, my favorite 5K is eight weeks away! I've always loved the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure and walked it most years with my "In Celebration of" sign pinned to my back for my mom, crowded on all sides by women of all ages covered in all shades of pink usually carrying a sign with some boob-related humor — not to mention the high school marching bands who line the route playing Usher's "Yeah" or Beyonce's "Single Ladies" or the motorcycle guys and firefighters who cheer you on as you pass. It's really a wonderful thing to be a part of, especially when my walking partner is my sister Courtney and all of the joyful femininity really irks her (She does love her some Usher, though).

So, I've registered for the Oct. 15 race and am beginning to work toward my goal. You can track my Couch to 5K progress on my Facebook. You can also encourage me in my training by helping me raise money for Race for the Cure. Simply visit that link and donate however much you'd like to the Susan G. Komen Foundation. Knowing that people are "invested" in my progress will be a huge motivator. (Your money will go directly to them regardless of my running it well or not. It's not like my elementary school "Fun Run" when people would donate $2 for every time I circled the track. Usually I raised about $2... I got a cute "Turkey Trot" t-shirt out of it, though.)

Anyway, I hope that promising all four of my readers that I will accomplish this task I will keep me on track and help me meet my goal. Otherwise you four will never let me live it down...

Back to school

Today is the first day of school. For me, it's also my first day of teaching. I hope for my poor students' sake I don't slip into my usual nervous habit of fast talking —especially if any of them happen to hail from north of the Mason-Dixon line because, if there's one thing harder than trying to decipher what I'm trying to say beneath my Southern drawl, it's trying to decipher whatever I've said at light speed.

This morning I realized it had been more than two years since I had to pick out my first day of school outfit. But there was no lunch to pack, no bus to catch (granted, I haven't ridden the school bus since the eighth grade), no first day of school picture with forced grin and protest of "But Moooooooom!!" Instead there's a syllabus to print and make copies of (I have my own syllabus for Pete's sake!), a roster to check and double check, and hopes that my lesson plans will magically finish themselves.

I feel like Stanley Tucci in "The Devil Wears Prada" gives the best advice for today.

So I'm off to teach and terrify. Wish my students luck. 

Spot Scott

Let's play a game I like to call "Spot Scott," which is just like "Where's Waldo?" except with Scott. Get it? (If you don't, you've got more problems than I can help you with.)



Looks like the prize for being late to a community event and having to stand in the back is being on the nightly news all around the state (also the prize for living in a small state, it seems).

White Coat Weekend

This weekend, my sister embarked on her four year journey to become a Pharm.D. at Lipscomb University. Scott and I left for Nashville right after work on Thursday to spend the night with my Mimi before we made the rest of the trip to Nashville.

Good ol' Rocky Top...

Friday

Left my Mimi's house for Lipscomb

Arrived an hour early for Courtney's White Coat Ceremony (which, turns out, was really an hour and a half early because Mom was confused on the time, too)
Laughed as various people stumbled in getting their coat put on them

Putting on her giant coat

The dean (left) told Courtney they'd have to teach her how to smile after she cheesed it up the whole way across the stage.

After this picture she said, "I have a feeling I'm going to be a blog post."

Ate lunch in the Allen Arena

Fought my desire to combat everything with "But at Harding..."

Went shopping at Green Hills Mall afterward (love!) and got to go to J.Crew (more love!)

Realized the heels I wore to the ceremony were not walk-around-the-mall heels

Finally got to Mom and Dad's

Ate dinner with the family plus Courtney's friend Buddy.

I have to say that I'm very, very proud of Courtney. She was one of 77 admitted to the College of Pharmacy out of 900 applicants. She's really one of the smartest people I know. And, thanks to her ceremony, I now know the derivation of the word "ceremony" — always a good thing to have tucked away in your random trivia file.

Saturday

Scott and Dad got up early and went golfing

Mom, Courtney and I went Target-ing

Got an iPod Touch for my birthday (Words With Friends! Yay! My username is JenH829)

Went to Dad's office to get our eyes checked and tried on every pair of glasses on display

Ordered new sunglasses

Had dinner with the family plus Lindsey (who is basically family anyway)

Watched "Date Night" afterward

Sunday

Went to Woodson for church

Had lunch at Macaroni Grill with the Osbornes (all of us were together for the first time in forever!)

Got home and packed and prepared for the long, long drive ahead

Home sweet Arkansas

The view from my window for about two hours...

Dinnertime!

Finally arrived home

Played with my iPod and watched a few shows from the DVR

Dreaded Monday's arrival

Hope you, too, had a great weekend ... with or without a white coat.

I wish...

I wish they bottled and sold the ability to focus.

I also wish that I lived closer to the ocean — or any body of water for that matter. It would be so nice to go out and sit and relax beside it each night.

I wish cookies were highly nutritional, and you were encouraged to eat lots them.

I wish Nashville wasn't so far away.

I wish I could like cleaning and wouldn't act like an 8-year-old when it has to be done.

I wish they encouraged eight cups of coffee a day like they do with water.

I really wish lunchtime was followed by nap time.

What do you wish for?

Of pictures and ping pong

As much as I try to avoid it, there's no dodging the fact that my birthday is at the end of this month. So, in order to see the glass as half full, I'm taking a page out of the Jeff Montgomery Guide to Birthday Celebrations: How You, Too, Can Make Your Birthday Last a Month and drawing out all of the joys of birthdaying (the presents) while only having to deal with the negatives (getting older) once. It's sort of a mini-Jenniferfest ... only without daily treats for my coworkers.

Really, the only way it's "sort of" anything is the fact that I've already talked Scott into giving me my presents early. (There's no saying no to this face.) One of which is this lovely camera. Granted, it's not a Jeff Montgomery-grade camera, but it takes a much better picture than anything I've ever owned and is the perfect size. (Hey Jeff! Get better soon or the magazine is going to be full of bathroom mirror pictures.)

My camera and I, in the bathroom mirror. I call it "An Ode to MySpace."

One of my biggest complaints is how few pictures I take. I want to document our lives better, so with the new camera comes a new rule: I'm going to take pictures of everything. (That's really not so much a rule as a statement, but whatever.) So, I started Monday night with Scott's major win over his Mii computer opponent in Wii Sports Resort ping pong. It was a victory weeks in the making, earning him the title of "Table Titan."

He's obviously overjoyed.

I'm looking forward to taking more pictures and finding out all the things my little camera can do. I'm not looking forward to the whole getting older thing. But that's a whole other post.

Weekend Update

Friday

Went to the Bulldog with Heather and Tommy

I could eat a whole bowl of just the shortcake.

Sat around talking long after our hamburgers had been eaten
Went over to their house to play Super Mario, Mario Kart and Sports Resort

Stayed at their house until 11 (which is way late for old people like ourselves)

I really wish I had a picture of Tommy's Mii for this space.

Saturday

Woke up late (have I mentioned we didn't go to bed until almost 12 a.m.?)

Ate eggs and watched Food Network

Had a very, very lazy Saturday afternoon

Worked on my ENG 111 lesson plans

(Which is more like stressed over my lesson plans)

Ate cheese dip for dinner while watching a Julia Roberts movie marathon on USA.

Sunday

Woke up and went to church

Went grocery shopping afterward (just about as thrilling as it sounds)
Worked on my lesson plans some more
Decided that maybe I have a whole unit mapped out (hooray for descriptive essays!)
Ate dinner and were generally lazy for the rest of the night

Since school starts back in two weeks (bum bum bum) and now that date affects both of us, we decided a do-nothing weekend was just what the doctor ordered. 

Love Me Do

Scott and I had been dating about a month. We were driving down Race Street when I said, "Hey, you want to play a game?" The purpose of the game was to find out what your song as a couple is, and the rules are very, very simple. You hit "seek" on your radio, and the song playing on whatever station you end up on is your song. Since we hadn't been together that long and my childlike games were still cute and endearing to him, he said yes. (Since then, his humoring my car games has dwindled, especially since he got a speeding ticket while concentrating too hard during 20 Questions one time.)

I pushed the button, and the song that was playing caught me completely off guard. It was "Love Me Do" by the Beatles.

Now, let me take a moment to explain the seriousness of this occurrence. In case you don't know, I love the Beatles. (And if you didn't know that, you must not know me. Why are you reading this blog then?) While most teenage girls had pictures of N*SYNC or the Backstreet Boys plastered on their walls, John, Paul, George and Ringo kept me company in mine. I had Beatles shirts, lunchboxes, coffee mugs, movies and so on. When I was a junior in high school, I skipped out on the Junior/Senior Banquet (a church of Christ high school's version of prom) to go to a Beatles tribute band concert. (It is here that I will end my list of ways I love the Beatles at the risk of sounding like a crazy person. I don't have any locks of hair. Although, I'd be willing to talk to you if you have a way of getting one for me — especially George's.)

 Giddy as a schoolgirl and on the verge of tears upon receiving the completely remastered Beatles' box set for Christmas. This is serious, people!

I'm not one to believe in signs, especially the movie "Signs" (what was the deal with that Swamp Thing looking alien anyway?), but I couldn't avoid this one. There it was, staring me in the face — my sign that this guy who was driving us to Lenny's had to be "the one" because fate had the Beatles playing on this radio station. And it was a song about love, too! It wasn't "Happiness Is a Warm Gun," "I Am the Walrus" or "Get Back."

Whenever I hear that song, I'm reminded of that moment — the moment I knew Scott was the one who was going to "love me do."

Weekend for Schmucks

Friday

Got off work a little early and headed down to Horatio to visit my mother-in-law and her husband for the weekend.

Decided that life would be easier if we had 1) an airplane and 2) $1 billion.

(We kept saying we wouldn't be greedy and take $2 million, but, if we're dreaming, we're going to dream big.)

When we got there, we learned the highly addictive nature of Words With Friends.

Decided the list of things that would make life easier should include an iPad or iPod Touch.

Saturday

Woke up, played more Words With Friends, ate breakfast and went to visit Scott's great-grandparents.

Drove to Texarkana to visit with Clay, Laci and Zane and eat lots of yummy barbecue. 

I left feeling like that pig — but without the overalls.

Got to hold (and be slobbered on by) baby Zane, which is completely acceptable when you're as adorable as he is.

Went to see "Dinner for Schmucks" and laughed a lot.

My favorite part is begins at 0:12.

 Came back home and played more Words With Friends while we ate homemade ice cream.

(Seriously! An iPod Touch needs to be in my future!)

Sunday

Went to church and then to Papa Poblano's for lunch afterward.

Ate a lot of chips, salsa and Mexican rice.

Drove back home.

Ate dinner while we emptied out the DVR.

Ended the night the best way possible: snuggled up on the couch with popcorn and "Mad Men."

(Dear Don, Please don't be so drunk and cheer up. Love, Jennifer)

*The title of this post is not meant to imply that I spent my weekend with schmucks. Quite the contrary. I have amazing in-laws who I would not trade for the world. And I like the word schmucks.