Happy Birthday!

One of the many, many things I appreciate about my mother is this: She was born in May. After writing three birthday posts in six weeks a few months ago for the other 3/5ths of the family, I'm feeling especially happy that my mummy's birthday is on the other side of the year.

The sunny, warm, pleasant side.

It doesn't count as a birthday pic if
the person in question doesn't call me
up and threaten me with something.
This should do it.

It's kind of funny when I think about it: Grandma (mum's mum) had three children, all of whom have birthdays within a couple weeks of her own June birthday (two in May and one in June). My mum, on the other hand, sent two of her three to the opposite end of the year. Mind you, I'm not sure that either of them planned ahead. And as a further contrast, my dad's mum has eight children, with birthdays scattered all year long.

Anyway! I'm sure my mum will celebrate with wild partying and disorderliness, possibly leaving her plate on the table at Grandma's for someone else to pick up or even-- the horror-- staying up past 10 PM.

I kid! She already stays up past 10. No, I actually have no idea what my mum does to celebrate her birthdays, except that Grandma is sure to make some really yummy cake that I'll be über-sad to miss out on. And those are the breaks when you live three states away from your family. Perhaps I'll purchase a celebratory cupcake to make up for it.

Happy birthday, Mum! And many more, of course.

Endings: Very Important

WARNING!! This post contains spoilers about this week's NCIS episode, which was also the season finale. If you haven't watched yet, then do not, under any circumstances, press that button. (My apologies to non-US readers; I imagine you haven't had the option to see it yet. But I'm writing this now while I'm still thinking about it.)

Another List: This One's About Cycling.

So I was reminded today that not everyone wants to hear the "cycling is good for the environment" or "alternative transportation will save us all" or whatever angle of cycling. Which is good, because while I am a bit of a green-living nut and enjoy my multi-modal lifestyle, I'm not anti-car. (Although I keep reading that some of the NYC media is getting a lot of mileage by shouting about the non-existent "war on cars", which I think is hysterical.) Okay, well, I'm anti- the cars that haven't been maintained and are spewing exhaust all over the street where I happen to be breathing, but I've always been anti- those cars. This is hardly a new thing for me.

So! Ten non-green, non-alternative, non-liberal reasons to ride a bike:

1. It saves you money.
This isn't partisan, is it? Geez, I hope not. If you're lucky enough to live within a couple of miles of a store, or your kids' school, or your gym, or wherever you go, taking a bike instead of the car will save you some gasoline. Which saves you money. They tell me gas prices are running amok again. Fight back!

2. It's good bonding time.
Grab the spouse, the kids, the roommate, Toto-- whoever is living in your house-- and give them a shove toward the bicycles. Take a spin around the neighbourhood. Ooh and aah at the neighbour's flowers. Find out where the rises and dips in the road are. Chit chat about nothing and everything. And keep an eye on Toto-- he's a flight risk.

3. Or it's good alone time.
Leave all those people at home and ooh and aah over your neighbour's flowers all by yourself.

4. And it's stress relief.
Seriously. Take out the bike and leave the day's nasties on the road.

5. You probably need more Vitamin D anyway, right?
But do wear sunscreen. I know, I know, contradiction. Use your good judgement.

6. Your bike gets lonely without you.
After all, how would you feel if you had to live in the garage and only got attention every few months? That's what I thought. You don't want a neurotic bike on your hands.

7. Besides, you don't want it getting rusty.
You paid good money for that bicycle, right? May as well use it, or it's just a pile of money sitting around.

8. It's good for you.
Okay, maybe this is slightly liberal. Kinda. Your heart & lungs enjoy a good challenge from time to time. And regular cycling is a great way to get nice calves.

9. It's not required that you wear spandex.
Really, it isn't. Just wear whatever you want. I've gone cycling in a suit, for goodness' sake. (Okay, it was for a special event, but you get what I'm saying.)

10. It's fun!!
Really, it is. Remember when you were a kid and loved riding your bike? That joy doesn't go away when you get a driver's licence. It's especially fun if you find a good hill to ride down (although I admit that getting back up the hill is less fun, but hey, everything's a trade-off). Recapture some thrills in your life. Get the bike out.

I know I missed something-- what are some other reasons to ride a bike?

Teaser Tuesday #10

The Tapestry of Love, Rosy Thornton


"'And what would you do?' 'Oh god, I don't know. Sleep for a week. Learn the saxophone. Read War and Peace.'"

"She's usually good value, is Bryony. It's not everyone has an aunt who can drink him under the table and insist on paying for every round."

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

• Grab your current read
• Open to a random page
• Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
• BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
• Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

College Life

As if I know anything about college life, eh? I'm busy being a strange non-trad! ;)

So, you may have read my cousin Amanda telling us the truth about college back in November. And I read an excellent article yesterday by Megan's sister, likewise comparing the myths of college with the reality. So now that I've spent a full school year on a major university campus (no disrespect intended to my community college that I loved, of course), I'm ready to step up and add my voice. Kinda.

It's funny that there is such a mystique about college. People go to them all the time. There are college graduates walking around everywhere. Nearly everyone I know has pursued some sort of higher education. We all know the realities of college life, and yet the mystery and fascination remain.

It's still exciting for me to walk around campus. I smile when the tower chimes. I giggle at the protesters doing their chant o' the day in the designated rally area. (I giggle because there are so many of them, with a new cause nearly every day, not because I don't think they're serious.) I get a thrill at each new assignment, which generally lasts until I sit down to actually work on said assignment.

College is an exciting time of life for most people. And even though I'm seeing things from a different perspective than most, I've found it's still exciting, albeit in a different way. My priorities have shifted and other things are important to me now, but the joy of being in a university is still there.

And that temporarily brings me to the end of blogging about college. I'm taking an internship over the summer, but that's it. I'll resume in August with more non-trad tales.

What do you think of first when you think about college? The parties? The classes? The friends?

There's a Complaint for That

"Do all things without grumbling or disputing, so that you will prove yourselves to be blameless and innocent, children of God above reproach in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you appear as lights in the world." - Philippians 2:14-15

I gotta tell you, this verse is a bit rich coming from me. Yes, I blog today as a shining example of what not to do in the area of complaining. I have days when I am aware of what comes out of my mouth and I manage to stop talking before complaints erupt, but I have a lot more days when the grumbling pours out. Not my best quality, I'm afraid.

Yesterday, Chad and I worked the polls for a city election. Now, I'm sure everyone in the US has heard from an early age the rather unfortunate adage, "If you don't vote, then you have no right to complain." And the reason I'm sure everyone has heard it is that I heard it over and over again from voters yesterday. I even read it in a news article this morning. Sigh...

Ah, the old days of voting.

I'm going to take an unpopular stance here and suggest that if preserving your right to complain is your motivation for voting, you probably should stay home. Honestly, we'd all be happier if more people gave up their right to complain (including me, remember?). And then there's that minor detail that we have no "right" to complain to begin with-- it's not in the Constitution, and as you already read, it's certainly not God-given. Now, if your reason for voting is that you want to use the rights that you have and add your voice to the decision-making process, and then if your elected officials don't deliver on what they said when they were looking for your vote and you want to call them on it, by all means, go ahead. But please, please don't approach the ballot box (bit of a quaint word, that, isn't it?) bent on seeing to it that you preserve your right to complain until the next election comes round. That's hardly productive.

Unfortunately, I fear that this is an area in which many Christians are as bad offenders as anyone else. It's so easy, and in our culture, it's the path of least resistance, to start grumbling when things aren't 100% perfect (which, by the way, is all the time). But I'm sure there's a better way. I'm sure we I can try harder to restrain the complaining. And I'm sure that complaining could be replaced by encouragement.

What do you do to avoid too much complaining?

What's Going On Back There?

The semester is over and I'm now free to turn my attention back to writing! Yay! And other things, too-- my running needs some new life, I need a job, and I have that summer internship at Bike Texas to look forward to (and I am, too-- I'll be spending 2x as much time there over the summer as I do now).

But, today is the day I write about writing. I never have much to add on this front, sadly enough: there are so many fab writing bloggers out there that I hardly feel like my paltry experience is worth blogging about. However, I'm never one to stop talking just because I run out of things to say, so here goes:

Bet you'd like to know the backstory
to this. Truth is, so would we.

Backstory! There are lots of things to say about backstory and world-building and so on, and I always read that stuff with great eagerness. You see, the backstory is one of my favourite parts (since I don't write fantasy, I don't really have a need for much world-building). Chad is the same way, even though he doesn't do a lot of writing: he'll spend as much time coming up with a character sheet for a role-playing game as he does the actual playing. We are just people who love to know what's behind our character's actions.

But sooner or later I have to stop with the backstory and start with the story. And that's when things really get interesting. Here goes.

Do you like coming up with a backstory? Or do you prefer to start writing and then figure out what's wrong with your characters? And if you aren't a writer... um... how far should I run today?

These Are the People in my Neighbourhood

I may not have mentioned before that I live in a low-income neighbourhood, one that people from other parts of town regard as the "bad" neighbourhood or a high-crime area or whatever. And I can't dispute that bad things happen-- there have been some car windows broken out recently, for instance. But the bad part of town? Really?

When we moved here, I was determined that I would greet my neighbours whenever I met them, which is pretty frequently, being car-free as so many of us are. This may go down as the first time in my life that I've made a reasonable resolution and actually stuck to it-- it isn't easy to tell on a blog, but I am a bit reserved in public and rarely talk to people I don't know. (This makes me a real hit at church, btw.) However. New city, new neighbourhood, new personality, yes? Turns out it's fun to talk to the neighbours, and of course, it makes me more of a known part of the neighbourhood-- something that I think is pretty important as a runner, should any difficulties ever arise.

So. Here's what I see in my neighbourhood: Parents walking their small kids to school (not driving). Older kids getting themselves to school or to the bus stop. School-age kids running quick errands or getting themselves to the swimming pool. Neighbours who greet one another at the bus stop or at the grocery store. Nothing is perfect, and certainly our part of town isn't paradise, but we do get a bit of a Mayberry feel around here from time to time.

Look at all these happy people! ;)

Anyway, a couple of things brought on this train of thought: First, I read Free-Range Kids. A lot. Lenore is a genius. Second, a conversation came up the other day in which someone told me I'll have to give up my car-free ways once we have children. Now, I know for sure this is a load of balderdash, since there are plenty of families around here who are car-free and managing just fine (which is my usual response to that sort of statement: "Not in my neighbourhood."). And if that weren't proof enough for me, I keep running across all sorts of blogs or news stories about people who likewise heard this prediction of car-filled doom, and yet are managing public transportation, walking, or bicycles with kids in tow. Sometimes quite literally.

That's not to say that things won't change. We might end up getting a car again. We might have to get ourselves equipped with a car seat and all those other fancy gadgets. Or, we might move to a city that is even more accessible when car-free than Austin is, and continue to enjoy our neighbourhood without the aid of a motor. But that's hardly a decision I'm going to make now, all naysayers aside.

But for now, the Cheeky household is happily car-free. And happily engaged with our neighbours. And whatever your mode of transport, I hope you feel as at home and happy in your little slice of the world as I do in mine.

Do you know your neighbours? Have you gone outside today to experience your neighbourhood?

Teaser Tuesday #9

Passenger to Frankfurt, Agatha Christie

"She was curious to know what oratory could do."

"It was one of the rare occasions in his life when Sir Stafford Nye was taken aback."


So technically I'm finished with this book, but I couldn't resist sharing a snippet anyway. This was my first Christie book-- I'll definitely be back for more! I quite liked her voice, and her characters were brilliantly fun.

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

• Grab your current read
• Open to a random page
• Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
• BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
• Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

Little Bit of a Couple of Things

So! I spent my university-free weekend catching up on blogs and following back all my new-ish followers. I hope I got everybody! If you've been hanging around here for a couple of weeks & you don't see that I've been by your blog, it might be best to mention it so that I can high-tail it to your place for some virtual tea & comments.

This ought to do for the
first couple of weeks, yes?

Besides the massive amount of time I spent reading blogs, I also got a jump on my summer reading: I read Across the Universe by Beth Revis on Saturday. Yes, all of it. That's how much I liked it. Now, I suppose it could be said that I like every book, and that wouldn't be too far from the truth, except that I only read books that I like. If I don't like a book, I don't finish reading it.

Hence the reason that if you friend me on Goodreads you'll see that I give a lot of 4-star ratings. So I guess for me to rate books on Goodreads is kind of useless, except that if it gets 5 stars you know that I think it was incredible, and 3 stars is only merely "yes, I liked it". Four stars is "oh-this-was-great-but-not-quite-incredible", and most books I read fall into that category. See also: Books in 2011. I try to stick like glue to the descriptions of my rating system on the bottom of the page, so that I don't give an A rating to something that I enjoyed but had no qualms about putting down for a couple of days.

And speaking of Goodreads, I'm doing my best to keep my "read" list longer than my "to-read" list. I think they're tied right now. Alas, I can only read so fast, but the blogosphere keeps recommending so many books! And they all sound wonderful! And I can't resist adding them to the list so I don't forget! Sigh...

So, other than reading for fun and doing a bit of studying for my only final on Wednesday, I'm also doing the job search thing. I'll let you know how that turns out. :/ I do have an unpaid internship procured for the summer; turns out it's not that hard to say to the non-profit for whom I volunteer, "Hey, can I make this an official internship for class credit?" Unfortunately, as much as I live doing stuff for Bike Texas, it won't pay the bills. So, I'm going to juggle a part-time paid job with a part-time unpaid one. Yay!

Are you on Goodreads? (If so, click that link above & let's be friends.) Have you read Across the Universe? Where do you think I should get a summer job?

Credit Where Credit is Due

I debated with myself at some length about writing this post. It's possible that the person concerned will be very embarrassed. He might stop reading my blog, and in fact, may never want to talk to me again. Having thought it over, I've decided I'm willing to take that chance.

Chad and I have a young friend who we've known for many years now. I didn't know until this week that he was reading my blog, though. The short story is, after he read Monday's post about my thoughts on an appropriate reaction for Christians to Bin Laden's death, he was emboldened to speak up amongst his friends and take the stand that it is ungodly to exult in an enemy's death.

Unfortunately, his friends turned on him like the proverbial pack of wild wolves that young men can be at times. I was sickened when I read some of the things that were said to this young man. He asked what he should do, but I gotta tell ya, I'm a bit short on the wise words when it comes to males in their late teens.

I at least knew what not to do: I'm not completely ignorant of interpersonal relationship dynamics, so I didn't dash over to his Facebook page to (virtually) shout, "Hey, this is my brother in Christ, and nobody talks to my little brother like this!" I really, really wanted to, but I also knew that would likely cause more harm than good. So I sat at my computer and prayed for my friend as he has to face this, and I prayed for his friends to wise up a bit. Or a lot, if need be.

I wouldn't be a rhetoric major, or a blogger, or a writer, if I didn't believe in the power of words. But on Monday, seeing what my words had started, I was torn between guilt at having given my young friend the impetus to put himself in this situation in the first place, and pride that he did it. I had visions of his parents asking me, "What were you thinking??", but I know for sure that his parents want nothing more than for him to stand up for what is godly and right, and to stick to his principles.

(By way of aside, I was thrilled at the response that I got on Monday. It's nice to see people agree with something I said, of course, but even those who disagreed did so with such a tone of kindness & respect for the opinions of others that it hardly felt like a disagreement. I have the best blog readers ever.)

And so, my friend, I have to tell you that we in the Cheeky house are very proud of you. And I'm willing to bet that the readers here at Cheekyness are, too. In the words of Paul, "I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect until the day of Christ Jesus." Well done.

Recycling Shows a Lack of Imagination

Completely unrelated: Michelle has given me a blog award! Actually I got to choose between the Stylish or Versatile Blogger, but since I already have both, I'll just skip straight to: Thank you, Michelle!

We all know the cute little saying, "Recycle, Reuse, Reduce", yes? Well, if you haven't been hanging around with the environmentally mad people lately, what I'm about to say may come as somewhat of a surprise: They're in the wrong order.

Yeah, when they (this would be the mysterious "they") came up with the saying in the 90s, they didn't bother telling us that recycling should be a last resort, not the first step. Don't get me wrong, recycling is important (without it, I wouldn't know what to do with all my milk jugs), but it's better to exhaust all other possibilities first.

So, living with this idea in mind has caused me some issues. Bread bags, for instance. We get at least one bread bag a week. They aren't recyclable. They are flimsy. I hate to throw them away, but what should I do with them?

Solution #1: This is a favourite of my Grandma. My grandmother doesn't put anything in her rubbish bin that might smell or attract pests (unfortunately, she also doesn't compost). Instead, she saves her bread bags, and puts the banana peels or whatever else into them, and stores the bag neatly in the freezer until trash day, when the whole thing goes into the rubbish. At least the bags get one reuse.
Solution #2: I've started using them for getting my grains from the bulk bins at the store. My mesh bags are no good for grains (since they're mesh), and despite all my best intentions, I haven't gotten round to making some canvas bags yet. In the meantime, I've appropriated bread bags for getting oats or whatever. Turns out the clerks at the store are totally okay with this (I marked out the original UPC to make sure they would stay okay with it).
Solution #3: Now that the semester is over and I no longer plan to do six hours of homework per day, I think I'll go back to making my own bread. And do you know what would be perfect to store our homemade bread in? Yep, bread bags.

Now, I know just about everyone reuses margarine containers for cereal bowls, but what other creative solutions are out there? How do you cope with non-recyclable-but-still-usable rubbish?

Okay, I Get It. Be More Interesting.

I'll round out my week of "wait-- what did I use to talk about before the A to Z challenge?" with another cycling story for you. Take it or leave it, and with a bit of luck, I'll be back to normal tomorrow. Or possibly the next day. Actually, I'll probably make some changes to my blogging schedule (yes, again) for the summer. Upon further reflection, I'm not sure why I think the universe needs to know ahead of time about my blogging schedule changes. Never mind.

So, I rode the train from Bike Texas again (I think I mentioned it once before, but taking the train one stop cuts out 50% of the uphills for my ride home) to my usual stop. Two other cyclists also got off at this stop, which has nothing to do with anything except that seeing other cyclists makes me happy. Anyway, we all sped out of the station toward the street, where traffic was massively backed up because the signal gates for the train were down (there's something wrong with the timing of the train signals in Austin). The train was just pulling out of the station, and so I had another of those moments that I always hope for: I weaved a bit in between the traffic that wasn't going anywhere and got across the street. Seriously, every time I come that way I hope that I can beat the train to the street, and today I finally did. Because once the signal gates are up, there is no way to stop traffic at this intersection, so it can be a long, long wait before there is a break in traffic again.

By way of aside, a pedestrian asked me for directions to a convenience store yesterday. And sometimes a driver will roll down the window and chat. It's really remarkable how being on a bike makes me more--how should I describe it?-- available for conversation, perhaps? Remember those "Life Takes... Visa" ads from a few years ago? There are times when I feel like I'm participating in life more than other times, and being available to chat with everyone who goes by is one of those things that makes me feel that way. Like I'm more in tune with the pulse of the city, kinda. I don't know-- it's just a weird feeling I get. I like it.

When do you feel the most like you are participating in life? (Nothing is too dull, I promise-- let's hear it!)

How to Write Four Essays.

Step 1: Read the assignment prompts early in the semester and resolve to get started early this time.
Step 2: Lose the assignment sheets 10 minutes later.
Step 3: Forget about the assignments for several weeks.
Step 4: Realise that the essays are all due in a week.
Step 5: Panic.
Step 6: Begin carrying a stack of research materials with you everywhere you go. Read while eating, while sitting around, and in the loo.
Step 7: Don't tell anyone about reading in the loo.
Step 8: Do the fun paper first.
Step 9: Decide to leave the hardest paper until last.
Step 10: Flip a coin to decide the order of the next two papers. Finish the second one.
Step 11: Finish the third paper. Forget to save it.
Step 12: Finally start on the hard paper. Realise it wasn't as hard as you thought it would be. Feel silly.
Step 13: Finish the hard paper. Celebrate by dancing round the living room.
Step 14: Realise that paper #3 is lost to you.
Step 15 (Optional, depending on time pressures): Throw an adult temper tantrum.
Step 16: Summon the muse to rewrite paper #3.
Step 17: Realise the muse, thinking that she was finished, has already departed for the muse equivalent of a week in Malibu.
Step 18: Rewrite paper #3, despairing that it is not as good as it was last time.
Step 19: Turn in all four papers. Start interviewing new muses.
Step 20: Recover with food or drink of your choice. (Chocolate frozen yogurt, if you're me.)

So, that was my week in writing! Of course, I left out the part about having to miss the last day of my two rhetoric classes that I really love, and then sending a mea culpa email to my instructor. But hey, it's done! One final left and that's the game on my first year at UT.

Is your essay-writing (or anything-writing) style similar to mine? What do you do when your muse skips town? Do you have any chocolate frozen yogurt?

It's A Roller Coaster

Two posts in one day-- oops! Didn't do it on purpose!

This second post is to announce that I'm guest-blogging at Austin on two Wheels again, and I like today's article much better than the last one. :) Here's a snippet; click anywhere to read the whole thing:

I still don’t like things that go fast. And that includes my bicycle. We moved to Austin last summer from Lubbock, a region for which the expression “pancake-flat” may not be adequate. I’ve been totally accustomed to riding on the level, and had no way to prepare myself for riding in Austin.

Raindrops Keep Falling On... Well, Pretty Much Everything

Hey, Blogger has been making changes again! Cool. I can now add a location to my blog posts. This will only be interesting, I fear, if I go on vacation. But hey, I'll join the ranks of those who make it easy for the stalkers and let you see my neighbourhood, shall I?

While my intent for Without-A-Car Wednesday is to share with you some of the fun and joys to be found in leaving the car at home, I can't really be genuine if I don't occasionally include the travails. So, here goes:

Monday we were visited by a cold front and some rain. Now, I don't want to sound like I'm grumbling about the rain; goodness knows we needed it. However, I came out of Bike Texas in the afternoon to head home and was greeted by gusty winds, low (for us) temps, and a steady drizzle. I hopped on the train, got off at my usual stop, and wondered if it would be worth it to just wait for the bus to take me home instead of riding home in the wet. Such hopes were dashed, however, when I got near enough to the stop to see the bus pull away. My options were then: Wait in the rain (30 minutes), or ride in the rain (about 20 minutes). Naturally, I chose option #2.

This is what my glasses
looked like.

Now, I'm extremely nearsighted (20/200 vision, or something like that) and I have astigmatism. You know what happens when a nearsighted, bespectacled, astigmatic woman rides her bicycle in the rain? She becomes a nearly-blind woman riding in the rain who has no idea how close the cars are. So towards the end of my nearly-blind, soaked-through, rather-chilly ride, I made a good choice and stopped off at the store for some hot cocoa mix. So, the moral of the story is: If you're going to ride a bicycle in the rain, get some of those glasses with the windshield wipers that all the cartoon characters have.

Do you have astigmatism? Do you like the rain? Would you like a cup of hot cocoa?

Yay, Awards!

I've totally been collecting these awards. Not on purpose; it's just worked out this way. But I am finally getting around to acknowledgement & thanks for these lovely people. And since today is my 33rd birthday (or 25th, as one kind Facebook friend said), I'm calling them all birthday presents, but not in the "Dang, I have to throw this thing into Mount Doom" kind of way. Usually, these awards come with rules, to which I say, "Oh, there were rules? Oops." So if you like these awards, please grab them, put them in your sidebar, pass them on, whatever you want to do. Because it's my birthday, and I'm like a hobbit, so I'm handing out the presents.

Many thanks to Misha and to Giggles for my Stylish Blogger award times two!

This Lovely Blog Award comes from the lovely Heather. Thank you!

Grandpa wanted to remind me, and by extension, all of you, that Life is Good. Thanks, Grandpa!

This rather gorgeous award comes from Dierdra, who is rather inspiring herself. Thanks!

And finally, Elizabeth very cleverly came up with this award for all of us who joined in on the A to Z Challenge. Brilliant award, Elizabeth! Thanks!

And now, what are you doing hanging around here? It's my birthday; go party! ;) But first: What should I do to celebrate #33 (besides showing off blog awards, that is)?

We Can Do Better

As you may have noticed, it is my usual practise to avoid major events in the news, controversies, and anything else that might make the tone of Cheekyness a little too serious for me to handle. Also, I like to keep my Biblical thoughts to the weekends, when (presumably) my readers are already in a spiritual frame of mind. Today, I'm going to break all those rules. Yes, I'm giving in to the rest of the blogosphere and writing about Osama Bin Laden.

If you missed it, just go to Google. I'm sure someone there will be happy to give you all the details. My concern today is not the event, but rather our reaction to it. Specifically, the reactions of Christians. I concern myself with my Christ-following brothers and sisters because we've voluntarily taken on the name of Jesus, and our actions reflect on him. And we've voluntarily put ourselves to a higher standard than those who haven't named Jesus as Lord of their lives. So if you aren't a Christian, this post is probably not for you (although you are, of course, welcome to read to the end), and what I have to say certainly isn't directed at you. You must live your life as you see fit.

But my Christian friends, we have taken on Jesus' name. We have chosen to live to a higher standard. And so it was with a heavy heart and mounting disappointment that I watched the reactions of some of my Christian friends scroll across my Facebook page last night. We serve a God who has specifically said, "Do not rejoice when your enemy falls, and do not let your heart be glad when he stumbles; or the LORD will see it and be displeased, and turn His anger away from him" (Proverbs 24:17-18, NAS). And who also said, "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you" (Matthew 5:44, NAS). It is not right, my friends, that we should put on such a public display of happiness, nor exhort others to praise God, when an enemy of our nation is killed. You can't help the emotional reaction-- I'm not saying that any feeling of relief or happiness that first came over you when you heard the news was wrong-- but you can control what you say. And what you type.

In short, we had a chance last night to show that our hope is not in this life alone. We had a chance to be the light of the world. And we blew it. We can do better, brothers and sisters.

A lovely story came across my Twitter feed right before I went to bed: A 9/11 widow was on an airplane when the announcement came through. The tweet told about how the entire cabin was comforting this woman in her moment of emotion. That is the kind of story I can get behind. That is the kind of thing that it would have been great to see more of.

I realise that many of you feel differently, and probably want to say so. While I don't object to disagreement, I ask that you keep comments clean and civil.

May the LORD bless you and keep you; may he lift his countenance upon you and give you peace.

Ode to Joy

I just finished reading The Happiness Project, by Gretchen Rubin. And it was fabulous, and I think you should all go read it. After you finish reading and commenting on this post, of course. :)

When I searched stock.xchng
for 'happiness', this pic
came up. Who am I to argue?

One thing Gretchen realised toward the end of the project is just how much work it takes to be a cheery, upbeat person. She noticed that the path of least resistance is not, surprisingly enough, happiness, but rather crankiness. (Which, I suppose, totally explains why I enjoy it so much.) Apparently there's fun to be found in contradicting, in deflating, and in bringing a cheery person back down to earth. Or, as my pal Brandon put it once, in being the last great critic of our time.

Which, as Gretchen says, makes it hard to be joyful. It makes it hard to appreciate the small things, to genuinely be happy with life, to enjoy the silly and the absurd, and-- this is a big one-- to keep cool when things go a bit awry. This isn't about being Pollyanna (although Gretchen does reference Pollyanna). It's about not going around poking holes in someone else's joy just to make one's self feel better about life. I'm sure we all know someone who does this regularly. (I hope that someone isn't you.)

What with it being Sunday and all, I have a verse for you: "The joy of the LORD is my strength" (Nehemiah 8:10). This is one of those verses that seems to have different meaning to different people, but it tells me that I don't have to get upset about every little thing that happens here on earth. I have the luxury of remembering that this life is but temporary. Traffic jams and mixed-up orders at restaurants need not cause a meltdown of my day. And for the bigger, more major life catastrophes (and unfortunately, I've heard about several among my family and friends this week, and we all know about the massive disaster that is the Southeast), it's okay to be upset, even while drawing on the fact that God is still in control.

(By way of aside, this is the kind of post that tends to draw negative comments about my religious beliefs. Since today's post is about not deflating someone else's joy, please be forewarned that I will delete overly-negative comments.)

So! What brings you joy? What do you do about Negative Nellies (or Nelsons)?

Z is for Zebra Crossing

There are so many words that I thought about for today! Zoology, which was one of the few times I've enjoyed a science class (and as a shout-out to my fabulous instructor, who I now know better as a running friend); Zigzag, in acknowledgement of the fact that I can't walk (or run, or cycle) in a straight line; Zero, for the amount of homework I get done while thinking about my blog; Zoom, because that's what I do on my bicycle (ha ha-- kinda); or Zeitgeist, just because.

Source. See the stripey poles with the
fancy lights?

But since I have a bit of a UK theme going this week, zebra crossing it is. For my non-commonwealth readers, that's a fancy word for crosswalk, so named because of the stripes-- you know, like a zebra. (There are other animal-themed names for the various places and devices used for crosswalks, but I'm just going with the basics today.) Most UK zebra crossings that aren't at stoplights have stripey poles with yellow blinking lights on them to alert drivers to watch for pedestrians. And, as it turns out, we have a couple in Austin with a very similar setup. Makes me happy, just like most things in Austin.

I didn't think much about zebra crossings when I first moved to Scotland; it was just one more thing that was a little bit different from home, and that was about it. But when The Parent Trap (the new version) came out, my sister suddenly had all sorts of questions about life in the UK, among them: "Do all the stoplights have those wavy lines?" I was a bit confused when she asked, so I got her to clarify, and she explained that she saw zig-zag lines on the ground leading up to stoplights in the movie. So I said, "Oh, yeah. Those are to let people know they're coming up on a crosswalk. Yeah, they're pretty much everywhere." A statement which, by the way, is more or less true, but it's also one I made up on the spot because it sounded good. Shhhh... don't tell my sister.

A slightly more literal interpretation
of the term 'zebra crossing'. Source.

As with many, many other expressions I used in the UK, 'zebra crossing' has stuck with me, and I still say it from time to time instead of 'crosswalk'. And, also true to my own bizarre form, I never say it when around someone who would know what I mean-- no, only when I'm with a never-been-out-of-the-state Texan do I bring the outlandish (to them) vocabulary. Of course, I can never remember the US word at those moments, either.

And that, my friends, brings us to the end of the A to Z Challenge here at Cheekyness. Join us next year, when I have to come up with a completely new set of words.

Did you enjoy the A to Z Challenge (if you participated)? Do you use zebra crossings? Can you think of other fun words we might use, besides 'crosswalk'?

Y is for Years

The days are long, but the years are short, they tell me. Too true! I generally hear this expression as it relates to parenting, but the years are plenty short enough on my own, without any wee ones to help speed time along. Although watching everyone else's children grow up before my very eyes is scary enough!

Anyway. I set my alarm last night so I could get up early and watch the little shindig in London this morning (I guess if I really wanted Google hits, I'd write it out in great big letters-- too bad I'm not that into search engine optimization), and realized that it's now been 11 years since I called that country home. At about the time that the gorgeous bride arrived at the church, the anniversary of me getting on a plane came & went.

What's remarkable (to me) is that this is the first time in years that I've even noticed the date going by, and I would have missed it again if not for today's commission of matrimony. While there's not a day of my life that I don't think of Scotland, there is also no need for me to go into mourning once a year for having returned from there.

Anyway. In related news, my 15th high school reunion is coming up this summer, which makes me feel a little bit old. I see my classmates on Facebook, and in my mind we all still look exactly the same as we did in 1996, just with the addition of spouses & children. That more years have gone by since last we met than all the years we spent together seems pretty well impossible. I keep thinking of that bit in Romy & Michelle's High School Reunion when they talk about how these people have known them since kindergarten-- it's kind of unreal that yes, thanks to the miracle of Facebook, there are people in my life who have known me almost as long as my family has. Yikes!

I think I was going somewhere with this post, but I seem to have gotten lost on the way. Ach, well, never mind.

So, here we are in 2011: What in your life happened so long ago but also just yesterday?

X is for Xanthophyll

You know what I love about the letter X? Two pages in the dictionary. That's it. Very easy to read through!

I learned the word xanthophyll from some cute little science books that my parents had kicking around the house when I was little. But it was really cemented in my brain when I finally got around to reading Little Town on the Prairie, my favourite of the Little House books: The town has a spelling bee, and the final three standing are Pa and Laura from Team Ingalls (although it's not exactly put that way in the book) and Mr. Foster from Team Someone Else. Laura gets the word 'xanthophyll', misspells it. Mr. Foster misspells it. Pa spells it out, very slowly, for the win.

And ever since then, I've loved the word. Unfortunately, I have a hard time loving the actual substance referred to: You see, xanthophyll is that stuff that turns leaves yellow in the fall. And while I acknowledge that it's quite lovely to see trees of all sorts of colours, I'm not a fan. I love spring & summer, and the leaves changing colour means that cold weather is coming. I'm perfectly happy with the bright green of the chlorophyll, thank you.

Which do you prefer: xanthophyll or chlorophyll? (Autumn-loving friends, it's your chance to speak up!)

W is for Writing, Walking, and Without-a-Car Wednesday

I had a hard time deciding on today's topic. Which is why it's 9 PM and I'm only just posting.

So! Since I am car-free, I spend a lot of time on my feet. I do a lot of my commuting via bicycle or bus, 'tis true, but for shorter errands or just getting around on campus, I'm a pedestrian. You know what cycling everywhere does for your walking skills? Nothing. It just makes me cranky when I have to walk, since I know for sure that cycling is faster.

I bet I'd think all sort of deep thoughts if I went walking
here. Thoughts like, "That spider just tried to eat me!"

But, cranky or not, here I come. Because it turns out I do some of my best writing while walking. So good, in fact, that I should probably get myself a dictaphone so I can stop forgetting all those brilliant things I thought out while walking. I keep thinking of that West Wing line that I shared with someone (or possibly blogged? I'm not looking it up) not long ago, when Toby tells Charlie, "Paper is for wimps." By golly, if Toby only needs to have his brain with him and can write while doing other things, then so can I.

And it's not just me, of course. I keep reading that taking a walk has this effect on other people, too. So much so, in fact, that last week in the writing center I told my consultee that she needs to take walk breaks whenever she feels overwhelmed by her writing assignments, to get the thoughts flowing again. (And she was such a sweet person; she agreed right away!)

Do you go for walks when your brain gets stuck?

V is for Vicar

Because I want to tell you an an amusing story.

This is not the church from the story,
but it is only a few streets away.

When I first moved to Scotland, I would see the word "vicar" around, but for some reason never caught the pronunciation. I told you once before about my difficulty with new words and how I inevitably pronounce things so horribly, laughably wrong that I should probably just stick to words I know and never try to increase my word power (many apologies, Reader's Digest). So one day, I was waiting with a friend to pick up her daughter after school. We were standing outside a church across the street from the school, and there was a large notice board outside with the usual things you see on church notice boards: Sermon title, Jumble Sale, etc., and at the bottom it read, Vicar Whatever His Name Was.

So, seeing an opportunity to find out what this mysterious word meant, I asked my friend, "What's a vie-car?" She almost fell over from laughing (I'm not kidding-- I was worried for a second), and once she recovered, she explained that it's pronounced vick-er, and it's the Church of Scotland word for minister. Mystery solved.

And this is probably as close as I'll get to blogging about that little event happening across the pond on Friday (of course, it's an Archbishop, not a vicar, doing the honours that day). And since I'm sure you're all dying to know: Yes, I'll probably get up and watch. It's a bit far south in the country for me, but hey, I'll take what I can get.

Are you going to be watching TV Friday morning? Do you have an amusing story of a time when you pronounced something badly? Are you a vicar?

U is for Umbrage

This is not going to be a Harry Potter-related post. While I have many, many things to say about the character of the similar-sounding name who made me want to scream (geez, JK Rowling has such a gift!), I'm writing about the more common kind of umbrage. The kind that you can find on the internet, without even having to try hard.

Source.

For instance. Last Friday, I saw a few Facebook friends mention the Earth Day promotion at Starbucks (if you brought a reusable mug, you got free tea or drip coffee. If you missed it, mark your calendar for next year). So I went to the Starbucks website to confirm this before dropping by, mug in hand. And sure enough, there was the post announcing the promotion-- and a whole bevy of comments below. I generally avoid comments on the internet (except for on blogs, of course), because I find that a "comment" section is generally a soul-sucking vortex of incoherent ranting. My instructor Do Not Cross says that the comments on YouTube make her worry about the future of humanity. And that's pretty much how I feel.

But on this day, I had my guard down and let my eye wander. I don't think it took two comments for this really brilliant promotion that included free drinks to devolve into an argument about politics, religion, global warming, and how stupid such-and-such commenter is. Really? Starbucks is handing out free coffee, and all people can do is argue about left-wingers and whether there is such a thing as a 'true' Christian? I had no idea that free coffee was so controversial.

Now, I believe all my readers to be lovely people who leave intelligent, reasoned comments. So I realise that I'm preaching to the choir when I encourage you, with all the strength I have in me, to refrain from such nonsense. Seriously, let's not go around taking (and leaving) umbrage. Let's see if we can continue raise the level of conversation on the internet. I know you all are brilliant writers, because I've visited your various blogs, and the general tone of your comments also seems to be within the realm of common sense. Good job, writing and A to Z bloggers!

Do you bother with internet comments? Do they drive you crazy? Or do you think I'm ruining all your fun?

Pascua

Very original that I should do an Easter post on Easter, yes?

There's a lovely bit in The Sound of Music (the book, not the movie) when Maria is describing Easter weekend and she says, "Children who still believe in the Easter Bunny are told that on Holy Saturday all the church bells fly to Rome, where the Holy Father blesses them, and afterwards they fly back to their places, freshly blessed."

How apt, because the whole world seems freshly-blessed at Easter. That's partly due to the season, of course: Spring makes all things new and opens up a world of possibilities. I get a bit sappy about spring, since it's my favourite season, but really, what's not to like about fresh air, new leaves, baby flowers...

So this week, everyone has been talking about life. My Jewish classmates have been talking about Passover. (I had a great conversation about unleavened bread with a Jewish classmate the other day-- he says it's gross, and I told him that's because he's never had my grandma's unleavened bread, which is fabulous. Also, he mentioned Matzo pizza, and I am totally all over that idea.) Christian classmates of all stripes have been talking about Holy Week. And of course, I know a handful of people who celebrate Passover and Easter, which is not as strange as it may sound when you first hear it.

Lives saved. Lives reclaimed. The new life of spring. Easter fills us with such promise. A blessed day to you.

Which (if either) do you celebrate: Passover or Easter? Do you have any special traditions?

T is for Travelling

Okay, kind of a lame title, but I feel a bit guilty that I missed the chance for an "S is for Scotland" post. I was just way excited about a chance to write a cycling post... Anyway. Today, I make up for it by telling you about my favourite place on earth.

So, while most of the Cheeky travelling is done to visit our variously scattered relatives, we also visit Scotland from time to time. I call it "home" as often as not, and considering that life in Glasgow is the source of my odd accent, non-American expressions (and spelling, now that I'm thinking about it), and occasional confusion about which country I'm in, can you blame me?

So! I'll just go whole hog and turn this into a little Scotland photo album (photo selection is limited, because I'm not wrangling with the scanner when I have piles of homework to do, so all these are from our last visit in 2006):

As you can plainly see, I took this picture while we were on the road.
At the time (since we lived in Lubbock), I was totally in awe of the
technicolour green all around me.

We were headed toward these hills. Perhaps not this particular one.
 And we were also headed for the really scary-looking clouds in the background.

Loch Lomond. As in, "You take the high road and I'll take the low road."
That Loch Lomond.

You wouldn't know it was Scotland without seeing a kilt shop, right?

Scotland Street School Museum. Once a working school, now an education museum.
Designed by Charles Rennie Mackintosh. Definitely worth a visit.

I'm really embarrassed that I had to look up the name of this street.
This is the corner of Argyle & Union Streets, looking up Union.
It's one of the busiest intersections in Glasgow.
And I only had to look it up because the street name changes here; in the other direction,
Union Street is Jamaica Street. And that's the name I always remember.

Looking west from King's Park, near the center of the city.
That's the Sleeping Giant in the background.

A hill I walked down nearly every day when I lived in Glasgow.

So, this probably happens in other countries, too, but not in the US.
When the light is about to turn green, the yellow light comes on
again to let drivers know,then both red & yellow
go out when the green comes on.

The National Rugby Stadium. Also a venue for concerts and that sort of thing.

Edinburgh Castle.

The Scottish Parliament Building. Most people say it's hideously ugly,
 but I have to admit that it has grown on me
and I kind of like it. Of course, it helps that my tax money didn't pay for it.

And the debating chamber (I think) inside Parliament.

There you are-- a brief trip around Scotland. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!