TastyCakes

Sewlific

2011-04-13T09:33:00.000-07:00

Some people may know this, but I'm really into sewing. More specifically, I'm really into re-creating period garments down to the last detail. This is an expensive hobby/profession. Not only because the materials can cost approximately one metric butt-ton of money (especially if you are really into details), but because it takes A LOT of time to get all of those details right and accurate. I do bunches of reading and research to find out how to get the right look for the right time period. Wouldn't you know it, but there isn't a great deal of information on how to make a woman's oversleeve on a Tudor dress or exactly how far down a man's regency jacket is supposed to hang. I mean, really!

I love doing costume research, though. It's pretty much just looking at pictures. Loads and loads of pictures. When I worked at Performing Arts Supply, I could easily justify sitting in front of the computer nearly all day looking at pictures and drawings of pretty clothes from eras gone by.

Like any girl, though, I'm more into ladies' clothes than men's. My favorite time periods are (in no particular order) Tudor Renaissance, 1830's, 1870's, Medieval, and 1930's although I am a fan of anything before 1980. I am fascinated by dressmaking and hatmaking techniques before modern technology. So much more time was spent on little things like pleating and hand-stitching, before mass-production was introduced. Purchasing clothes back then was a BIG deal because they weren't cheap.

I'm hoping to be able to get paid eventually for doing what I love. I've got an Etsy store that I hope to fill with beautiful reproductions in the not-too-distant future. I'm currently saving money from a sewing project I've been paid to do for Annunciation Orthodox School. They are performing St. George and the Dragon in May and I've been asked to build 2 capes, 4 medieval peasant kirtles and surcotes, a Princess dress (pictured) and 4 or so peasant caps. I'll have pics of those soon on the PatternReview widget.

Meanwhile, if anyone knows of anyone that needs a period repro garment and has money to spend, let's talk!

Back for Now

2011-03-30T19:41:00.000-07:00

So, let's see...it's been 2 1/2 years since I last posted...

What has happened since then? Well, some major milestones. I finally finished "Prince Caspian."

...What? It started moving really slow about three-quarters of the way through!

We bought our first house in a nice little neighborhood in July 2009. That was pretty super until our nice, family-of-four neighbors across the street moved to Cinco Ranch and a guy and his girlfriend moved in, subsequently broke up, she moved out and now his garage and driveway is the premier hangout for 16- to 24-year-old street racing amateur mechanics that apparently subsist on carbon monoxide gas fumes and pot smoke...Just to sum up.

Oh, and we had a BABY. Sweet baby James, the cutest kid I've ever seen...and it's not because I'm biased because he's mine. He really is the cutest baby ever. Really!

I quit working full time at Performing Arts and now I only work 1 day a month...it's a pretty great deal. I get to keep it on my resume` and work mostly from home doing contract sewing jobs and take care of James (since, honestly, I didn't make enough to pay for childcare anyway--it's actually cheaper for me not to work).

LOST ended. Major fail.

JT lost his job at Copperfield Church, and now we have started a new church in Northwest Houston--Storyline Fellowship! Our first meeting is going to be on Sunday, May 1st at 6:30 PM at the home of Mark and Irma Davis.

Four people in our (then) Small Group had baby boys in the span of 2 1/2 months in 2009--the Louckses, the Mengers, the Greenes, and the Neilsons (not in that order). As of today, the Mengers just had their second baby, a girl named Emily June. The Yaws had twin girls in November 2010.

Jenny and Dylan made a temporary move to Mt. Pleasant, TX--a stopover on the way to a move to Houston and be a part of Storyline!

I now sleep on a KING SIZED bed...thank you 1st-time home buyer credit.

So much more than I can list! Hopefully I can start blogging "regularly" again, even though blogs are SO 2006. We'll see. I seem to be busier now than ever, though, so it seems it might be a pipe dream.

Consciousness

2008-11-08T18:50:00.000-08:00

You know, it’s really a popular thing to buy stuff in America. Something that has been brought to my attention recently is fair trade. From Disney to Target to Gap to Wal-Mart, how can we be sure that what we’re buying is not created by the back-breaking sweatshop labor of little children and pregnant women? I guess the answer is: we can’t. There is a YouTube video called Digital Cemeteries that has pretty much ensured that I will never again purchase another cell phone until I absolutely have to, maybe ever. What is the real cost of buying stuff in America? The turnaround on electronics is such that we have tons and tons of electronic waste every month. As soon as the next generation of iPods is available, the one you had last week is just another valueless piece of beryllium and lead. The truth is the internal parts do have value to poor people in China who (toxically) take them apart for the minute amounts of gold contained within.

What about coffee and chocolate? What about clothing? Are the people that grow the beans being paid fairly for their time and land? Is that shirt you’re wearing being manufactured by the slave labor of a 13-year-old locked in a sweltering workroom while their passport has been stolen by their manager, ensuring that they won’t try to leave? I know it sounds terribly “activist,” but I don’t think I can push it to the back of my mind anymore.

The places in China, where our toxic electronic junk is dumped, are absolute wastelands. Children play in radioactive waste, and women are 6 times more likely to have miscarriages. We are selling out the children of God because we have to have toys. It disgusts me.

There’s a new conglomerate of companies that have banded together to help eliminate AIDS in Africa. They’re marketing a line of products called (Red). Have you heard of it? It’s a really great cause, but here’s the thing: they’re SELLING you STUFF. Why not just band together because it’s right? While many of the companies like GAP are proudly fair trade, some of the products are electronic gadgets that will eventually end up somewhere around the world, poisoning someone. Sure, you too can be an AIDS activist if you buy, buy, buy these things.

Last night, we watched a documentary called “What Would Jesus Buy?” It’s a great flick to start off your holiday season. It’ll make you think twice before starting your Christmas shopping. I’m actually not asking for anything for Christmas this year. Let me rephrase that. I’m actually asking to not be given anything for Christmas this year. I think instead that I’m going to try to volunteer somewhere and make it a new Christmas tradition. It truly is better to give than receive.

Is this Schadenfreude?

2008-10-13T11:05:00.000-07:00

Achtung!!
This is a "Kitler."

http://www.catsthatlooklikehitler.com

I can't decide if it's funny because it makes Hitler look stupid, or if it's sad because the cats are bred to look that way.

Corona Kids

2008-06-08T19:15:00.001-07:00

When I was in the third grade, my Dad had me tested for placement in a gifted and talented social studies class called “Corona.” All of my friends were in it from the class I had been in the previous year but due to the brilliance of standardized testing and my innate inability to perform at an average level in mathematics, I was placed in the “second-smartest” class while my previous classmates were put in the “smartest” and, therefore, automatically enrolled in Corona. My dad happened to be friends with the teacher and her husband, so he had me tested. I passed and was placed in Mrs. Herndon’s GT Corona class—a class that would last through my 8th grade year.

Every day during social studies time, I was released from Mrs. Smesny’s classroom and walked over to Mrs. Herndon’s classroom. Mrs. Herndon’s room was vastly different from Mrs. Smesny’s room. Mrs. Smesny’s room was your typical-looking third-grade classroom with brightly colored borders surrounding calico-covered bulletin boards displaying outstanding work on math and science tests. There was a quilt hanging from the back wall on which someone had cleverly quilted the fifty nifty United States and from which I learned the states, their capitals, and how to spell them. The desks were arranged in the “table” style where you and 3 or 5 other students were grouped together with your desks facing each other. I got to sit across from my then-best-friend Meredith (being best friends with her probably had something to do with the fact that we faced each other for about half of the school day).

Mrs. Herndon’s room was much darker—not only physically, but atmospherically. It was filled with curios of all types, not least of which was a giant wooden cabinet with glass doors at the back of the room containing sundry jars with preserved and pickled things, including a pig fetus. Also residing therein were squirrel skeletons, dried plants, and fossils large and small. It reminds me now of some type of wizard’s office or witch doctor’s place of business. Instead of desks, we sat at long tables set together in a “U” shape, with the teacher’s desk closing in the top of the “U” so she could stand inside the circle to teach us and monitor our work. I can still remember where everyone in the class sat for those three years that we were in that classroom. Even though we changed grades, we never changed seats in Corona.

Mrs. Herndon’s bulletin boards were unceremonious, containing pictures of cuneiform tablets and maps of the Gobi desert. A giant vase of peacock plumes sat on her desk. She had a thing for archaeology, and specifically for Roy Chapman Andrews. In the fourth grade, we had a precious little event called “Night of the Notables” in which each child at the school in 3rd through 5th grades chose a different famous person throughout history and presented him or her, in full costume, to our parents and invited guests, replete with informational triptych and “personal effects” of the person. You had to stand there and provide facts about “yourself” while each adult came to your station in the cafeteria and tried to guess who you were. I portrayed Amelia Earhart. People repeatedly asked me if I was the Red Baron. Mrs. Herndon was the only cross-dressed character since she came as—who else?—Roy Chapman Andrews. She was obsessed.

Mrs. Herndon’s non-archaeological, regular workaday-attire was generally a blouse and long skirt accompanied by, almost without fail, a neck scarf with a bejeweled clasp and always—always—a large gift-wrap-style bow tucked at the back of her coiled, long gray hair. She wore bright pink lipstick and the kind of eyeglasses that have gigantic bifocal lenses and low-set earpieces. She was from “Nohth Caolahna” and spoke with that distinctive drawl that is simultaneously east-coast and southern. She had high expectations of her students. Under the tutelage of Sarah Herndon, I and my classmates effectively studied, beginning in grade 3, ancient Mesopotamia, the hanging gardens of Babylon, ancient Egypt, ancient Rome, Russian history, and American and Texas histories in junior high school to fulfill district educational requirements. She had us define words like “hieroglyphics,” “cuneiform,” and “sarcophagi” at a time when I barely knew what the word “define” meant. To define words was a really big deal to me. I hadn’t heard that word used before. I soon learned that it really meant “copy the definition from the dictionary.” Suddenly, it wasn’t so glamorous. We also began making bibliography cards at an early age to go with our reports. The woman was relentless about works cited. I can still hear her voice and see her writing book citation examples on the chalkboard, “Last Name COMMA, First Name PERIOD, name of book UNDERLINED, city COLON…” She always wrote over and over the punctuation in chalk for extra emphasis.

The first big project that I had after I first joined the class was making a mummy. We had to find a 12” Barbie doll and wrap her in toilet paper or gauze and find a way to squeeze her into an 11” shoebox sarcophagus that we were to cover with Egyptian artwork. We were to write our names and a great saying about ourselves on the top in hieroglyphics enclosed in a cartouche.
Corona had the best field trips, too. We made numerous visits to the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston to witness exhibits like Pompeii and the Russian crown jewels. The worst field trip, though, was to the Reliant Energy building. It was during a study of Thomas Edison and within reasonable proximity to the Reliant Energy building there was a small Thomas Edison museum. The museum, however, only contained enough artifacts and memorabilia to fill a thirty-minute tour. In order to justify the more-than-hour-long bus ride to Beaumont, Mrs. Herndon had to fill up the rest of our day with field trip activities. So, after visiting the tiny Edison museum and seeing cool early electrical contraptions, including an original still-burning light filament incased in an inch-thick glass bulb, we were carted off to the Reliant building where we were given a thorough and thoroughly tedious tour of the inner-workings of the electric company. I’m not sure how long we were in there because all I can remember is that we were walking, standing, walking, standing for an interminable amount of time, our feet hurt, and all we wanted to do was sit down. We all agreed that it was the worst field trip EVER.

When we changed schools in Junior High, we began meeting in the Library because Mrs. Herndon didn’t have a room of her own. She was one of the only teachers in the district that “floated” between schools instead of just classrooms. I guess it was justified since she was only at our school for two hours a day in the first place. I sat at a table with three of my good friends, one of whom I still am friends with to this day. Mrs. Herndon made us sit at the corners of the six-seat table so that we couldn’t copy off of each other. Although I don’t recall cheating as being something I did, in retrospect I couldn’t be offended because I do recall practicing writing her initials in case I needed to pass off a half-finished paper when she asked to see our work. My friends and I agreed that I had gotten pretty good at it. I don’t think I ever really used my talent, though, and even if I had, I doubt it would have worked. The dratted woman could always recognize her own handwriting.

My friends and I agreed that Mrs. Herndon’s handwriting was cool. She didn’t have typical teacher handwriting that was all cursive. It was a script-y mixture of print and cursive and she always signed her name to form letters and parents’ letters with her middle initial: “Sarah R. Herndon.”

When 8th grade was over and it was time for us to move on to High School where Corona would be replaced with AP Classes, SAT tests, and jam-packed schedules, our class had a small ceremony on the last day of school. That day we were planning to have a class party with snacks, so we decided that it would be apropos to do it then. We played “It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday” by Boyz II Men as each of the 12 of us filed into the Library carrying a single rose. We filled a vase that we placed on her table and then took our regular seats. She was visibly touched by the sentiment and we could see her eyes glass with tears. That was the first time in six years that any one of us had seen her show that much emotion. She had been a hard teacher but a good teacher and I still use the things I learned from her.

My brother, who was three grades behind me, was also in Corona. After his class graduated Junior High School, Mrs. Herndon decided that it was time to retire. I think that she had classes that were her favorites and that mine and his were a couple of them. Halfway through my senior year and his freshman year and before her retirement lunch, Mrs. Herndon suffered a stroke. My friend Megan and I went to her retirement luncheon to see her since it had been about 3 years and we wanted to wish her well. When we greeted her, she was unable to speak, but I could see the recognition in her eyes when she saw us. We said hello and that it was nice to see her and then quickly exited the reception line. When we were out of sight and earshot, I couldn’t hold it together anymore. I hated barely recognizing her and seeing her in that state broke my heart. That was the last time I saw her.

Mrs. Herndon passed away while I was at college. My Mom told me that there were a lot of Corona alumni at her funeral, which was held at the Methodist church. I had heard that she had died, but no one told me when the funeral was until it was already over. Not attending is something I regret to this day.

She once told me, “You like history, and it shows.” I never really knew what that meant until a few years ago. At the time I thought that I was just doing the work because it was assigned to me. I later realized that I do like history and it is evidenced in the books I read and the programming I watch and listen to. I think, though, that I like history because she made it likable. Not until college was I able to experience another teacher who was as profoundly passionate about her students and the subject matter as Sarah R. Herndon was about her Corona Kids.

Reading Rainbow

2008-04-14T15:46:00.000-07:00

That's actually a picture of my "finished" stack next to my bed --->

So, I'm not sure if anyone has noticed, but on my side bar over there I've been reading books like mad--like MAD...and I'm not even just changing out the titles to make it seem like I'm a totally voracious reader. I really am reading--and finishing, I might add--all of those books. Wow! Are you not impressed by how super-smart I am?

I have to make a confession, though. I'm cheating. While I am reading (and finishing!) all of those books I've been listing, all of them are books I had half-read already and then put down because I have the attention span of a grasshopper sometimes. I have instituted a new reading plan for myself. I call it the "If-it's-listed-on-my-blog-then-I-must-finish-it-before-picking-up-another-book Reading Plan."

It's working out great! So far I've read (finished reading--whatever) three whole (half--whatever) books! I also am feeling very smart and accomplished. Me am such a well-read person!

Anyway, I just wanted to put that little disclaimer out there so as not to lead anyone, mostly myself, into any delusions of grandeur. I like to put humility out there, you know, so everyone can see how self-deprecating I am.

Unicorns Demand Reparations for Injustices Suffered at Time of Flood

2008-04-10T08:37:00.000-07:00

Photo of a Unicorn taken in the
Garden of Eden ---->

So, on Sunday night, I went to my small-group Bible Study/Social-fun-hanging-out-good-time. JT had to leave early to go to dodgeball, so I stuck around because I didn’t have anything else to do and because I like talking to the people in my group. They’re really fun and genuine and always good for some laughs. Anyway, so we were just sitting around, having a second round of hot dogs and watermelon and shooting the breeze when Molly brings up the topic of Awana and what they’re currently teaching the kids (for those of you who don’t know, Awana is a para-curricular children’s Sunday School-type program that basically replaced RA’s and GA’s). Molly said that she overheard an Awana teacher teaching the boys and girls that there were dinosaurs on Noah’s Ark, that the grown-up dinosaurs were too big to fit on the ark, so instead they took the babies and that’s what “they” are referring to (I guess the authors of the Bible?) when “they” talk about “Behemoth” and “Leviathan” later on.

Okay.

What the effing eff??!?
Are you kidding me? Are we being serious? I mean, seriously, can we be seriously serious?

I understand that they’re trying to fill in the Creationist gaps in a way that makes God seem cool to 7 & 8-year olds (who love love love anything to do with dinosaurs) but I think what’s more important is that we should be teaching our kids that sometimes it’s okay to not have the answers to difficult questions. Is it that by not having the answers we somehow feel that God loses a little face? If anybody answered “yes” to that last question, let me let you in on something: God don’t need our help in being and maintaining awesomeness. So, instead of making up something completely UN-Biblical (and teaching it as fact) based on the mere mention of two words out of context, shouldn’t we be encouraging future generations to actually look for the real answers themselves? And, even then, what about the unicorns?? How come the dinosaurs just happened to make it onto the ark, but the most magical creature of all missed the boat? I would much rather have Creationist evidence for beautiful, wondrous, magical unicorns than some stupid giant lizards.

I do have a personal theory on the extinction of unicorns that is based in the Bible. I believe that the unicorns actually did make it onto the boat. When the ark finally landed on dry ground after 150 days and the waters had subsided, Noah opened her up and let all the animals roam free. As Noah and his family stood there praising God, a rainbow appeared in the sky as God’s promise never to flood the world again. Just then, the unicorn was seen galloping across the sky on the rainbow. Noah was so grateful to God that he immediately snatched the unicorn from the rainbow and sacrificed it to God as a burnt offering. And that, boys and girls, is why we don’t have unicorns today. And if anyone here has ever seen a unicorn, it’s because, if you remember, there was one other unicorn on the ark and unicorns live for eleventy billion years. The end.

I have to go. I have an appointment to speak at Awana in about 15 minutes.

We're Going to Dizzzz-neeeee!!

2008-01-26T17:28:00.000-08:00

Second week in February! I'm so stinkin' excited! I can't decide if it's more excitement over the destination (since I've never been) or the fact that I don't have to be at work for a whole week.

Jenny & Dylan will be there the same week, but I don't anticipate seeing them much, since they're on vacay too. I thought at some point we might get together for a lunch or something to mutually revel in the Disney-ness. I imagine the conversation might go something like this:

Abby & JT: Hey guys!

Jenny & Dylan: Hey!

A & J: How's it going?

J & D: Well, Disney World is pretty f-ing awesome.

A & J: I know, right? Disney World is totally the coolest.

J & D: We're starvin' like Marvin. You wanna eat?

A & J: Sure.

*Munch Lunch Munch*

A & J: Allright, well, we'll catch ya on the fliptastic.

J & D: Sweet and Awesome! Bye!

...aaaaaand *Scene*

Shortest. Script. Ever.
I should totally write for this show.

In other news...
1. Christmas
2. New Year's
3. Slightly Chubbier
4. Joined YMCA
5. Earned free cruise

JT and I earned a free cruise by going to a "Short, 90-minute presentation" on a time share vacation facility on Lake Conroe (aka "Piney Woods Paradise"). Our appointment was at 12:30, so we decided to get there a little early so as not to miss our appointment--a point that the guy on the phone was adamant about not missing. An hour and a half later, we finally got someone to take us on the tour. He said, "Hope you haven't been waiting long."

"Well," we said, "actually we have."
"Oh, no! Well, don't worry. I'm one of the fastest guys out here," he assured us.

After a questionnaire, a walk-thru, and alot of sell!sell!sell!, we finally took the tour. After the tour and some more sell!sell!sell!, we got back to the clubhouse to listen to the financials. We weren't buying--too expensive. Our sales guy handed us off to his skeezy "manager" for some more sales pitching and "special offers" (at this point, I find it necessary to point out that our salesman was really a nice guy and good at sales. His "manager" was pretty slimy.) Still, no go. We were then handed off to a third guy (the manager's "manager") who tried to hand us a rock-bottom offer. Dude. Seriously. We are poor.

So, that guy kicked us to the curb and pointed us in the direction of the "losers' room" where we could get our "free gift." But, just as we stepped on the doormat, a trapdoor opened up and we fell into a pit full of hungry alligators! And poisonous snakes!!

...Just kidding about that last part, but I wouldn't have been surprised. Anyway, we got a cruise in which we have to pay port fees of $128 per person, but I think it's a steal for a 4-day cruise to Cozumel. If you've got iron-clad reserve, I would totally recommend doing it for a free/cheap vacation...but forget that "90-minute" crap. We were outta there in no fewer than 5 1/2 hours--but it was worth it (mostly to see the disappointment on their faces when they didn't sucker us.)

Holiday Cheerleaders

2007-11-14T11:48:00.000-08:00

I love the Holiday Season from Thanksgiving through New Year's Day--the sights, sounds, smells, and traditions of all cultures, the general feeling of goodwill toward men. There is something about the feelings of warmth and comfort inside while the weather rages outside, bidding you to stay in.

There is one thing that fills me with rage, however.

That thing (and I say this every year) is the retail push for rampant commericalism and consumerism. How am I supposed to cherish this "time of year" when it's shoved down my throat year-round? Hobby Lobby begins selling Christmas trees in August. The garden center in Wal-Mart is transmogrified into a Santaland freakshow of Toy-Department Spillover in early November. Stores begin playing traditional Christmas Carols in October as if they should actually mean something to you. To me, this last transgression is by far the sacrilege of the whole issue. I can understand playing Santa songs and winter songs to promote gift-buying feelings, but leave my Jesus songs out of it. It is an insult to my religious sensibilities to have the Prince of Peace advertising for Guitar Hero 3.

...So I've been baking. Specifically, chocolate cranberry oat bars and marbled chocolate treats I found in my Kraft magazine. Baking has revealed itself to me as a way to focus and relax and gain about 25 pounds.

...So I've also been dieting. And exercising. Hopefully, being in better shape will help me to combat the Evil Forces of GimmeGimme during this 4-month-long Holiday Season.

Songs About America

2007-09-06T18:55:00.000-07:00

Today we drove through Tennessee from Nashville to Knoxville, up through Kentucky, finally coming to rest at an overpriced Days Inn (after checking about sixty jillion other hotels--but that's another story altogether).

Y'know how sometimes you're riding down the road and the perfect song comes on the radio? That happened to me today. I was driving as we were coming out of Nashville, and, if you know anything about Tennessee you know that every 9 out of 10 radio stations are Country and Western. So, we decided to skip the radio and play our iPod through the radio transmitter. One of my Ryan Adams songs came on from the "Cold Roses" album, Let it Ride. He sings a nice little Country/Bluegrass ditty about the Cumberland River and Tennessee--just as we were driving through that area. It was nice.

So, as we set out this morning, we were discussing famous items and persons pertaining to Tennessee, such as Davy Crockett, former U.S. Representative from Tennessee and hero at the Battle of the Alamo. I learned alot about Davy Crockett today. For example, did you know:

1. That Davy Crockett was born on a mountaintop in Tennessee?
2. ...that he killed him a bar when he was only three?
3. ...that he was King of the Wild Frontier?
4. ...that he was portrayed poorly and inaccurately by Billy Bob Thornton in the movie The Alamo (2004)?
5. ...that he had a giant blue ox named Babe and that he loved flapjacks?
6. ...that he wrote the Declaration of Independence and discovered electricity?

I know! Impressive resume'. Davy Crockett is also known to have worn an upside down pot on his head and carried a bag of apple seeds, sprinkling them across the land.

Today was a good drive. The countryside was absolutely beautiful. I love driving in the mountains. There's a surprise around every corner. Tomorrow we'll drive a short distance to Cleveland for my friend Megan's wedding, and then we're headed quickly over to Grand Rapids to go to Mars Hill for church Sunday morning. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we get free Church Picnic Lunch!

Brother, Can You Spare Some Common-Damn-Sense??

2007-09-04T15:19:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I haven't really heard the entire story, but I did hear the audio clip. Whoopi Goldberg defended Michael Vick's dog fighting/gambling habit because it's "part of the Southern culture?" I am not from the Deep South. Perhaps I am not understanding the culture so good (imagine Slavic accent). I'm from Texas, though, and we do share some common Southern traditions with GA, AL, MS, and LA. Among some of these shared traditions are the culinary delights of iced tea, cornbread, and grits. We follow our dessert with coffee. It's the home of Southern Baptism and some remainder of gentility.

Among these, setting starved, beaten, angry, scared animals on each other for pure enjoyment IS NOT.

It's like saying that if you come from a lower-class neighborhood where developing a crack or crystal meth habit is "part of the culture" then it is permissable and perhaps encouraged for you to also develop a crack or crystal meth habit.

Why defend the guy? Is it because he's a celebrity? Is it because he's African-American? Is it because he's a bazillionaire that can get away with whatever he wants because he's got bazillions of dollars to cover his tracks?

Yes.

See: "Justice" for Paris & Lindsey

I know, I know...

2007-07-29T18:39:00.000-07:00

I haven't written a single thing since January!! I've been busy being a newlywed...Although I don't know really to whom I am apologizing. I'm not sure who really reads this blog religiously, but I'm sure there's someone out there. So I'm sorry already!

July 29th is my Grandmother's birthday. She's now 79 years young. She lives over on the other side of town by the Exxon-Mobil refinery(ies). She's been living in the same house that my Grandfather built for the past 37 years. My grandparents (Memaw and Papaw) moved into that pink-brick house after moving from the home my mother grew up in--a wood-frame house over natural gas lines that has since been torn down. Occasionally, in a fit of nostalgia, Mom will drive us by the site and say wistfully, "That's where our house used to be, and there's the tree my Daddy and I planted."

Papaw planted the plum and pear trees that are now in Memaw's backyard. The pear tree has always borne fruit since I can remember--big hard pears that were crunchy like apples and difficult to peel--but Memaw always struggled to get plums from the plum tree. This year she had her biggest yield ever: 10 plums. There's also a weeping willow tree where my Papaw built a swing for me. I was the first grandchild for my mother's parents, so I was Papaw's pride and joy until my brother Andy came along. Then we were both his pride and joy. My cousins weren't born until after his death in 1986.

I remember when my mother got the call that Papaw had passed away. She was very calm. He had been diagnosed with melanoma some time before. I don't remember when he got sick, or how long he endured chemotherapy, but I remember seeing him waste away. He changed so much that I remember being a little afraid of him. What was left of his hair fell out from the medicine, and Memaw asked me if I liked Papaw's hair and I said "No, but I still love Papaw." I think I was four or five years old.

After Papaw died, my brother and I were the only grandchildren for a couple of years until my cousin Madelen was born in 1988. Weekends at Memaw's were joyous. We would stay Friday night and wake up on Saturday morning to watch cartoons--Smurfs, He-Man, Thundercats, Garfield, Ghostbusters, etc., etc.--and eat the junky cereals that our parents wouldn't allow. I went through a Froot Loops and a Cookie Crisp phase, while Andy was pretty much steady on Lucky Charms for the longest time. Memaw would usually take us to the mall on Saturday afternoon where we would see a movie and she would buy us toys when we were younger and clothes once we got older. Memaw's house was AWESOME.

Memaw announced in the last week or so that the oil companies were making an offer to the people in her neighborhood. They would purchase homes from each resident at three times the value listed on the tax rolls. She was not contacted by the companies directly, but rather she saw an article in the newspaper and read documents on the internet. She decided to go ahead and take the offer, although she hadn't been asked yet. She said that it would be foolish not to, and she's right. She's already found a new house as well. She put down a small deposit to hold the house until she can pay for it in full with the cash she'll be getting, which I'm sure she plans to distribute, in part, among her grandkids and new great-grandson.

With any luck, someone will buy her house and move it from the concrete slab that it's on to a new location. If not, the purchasers will level it. That's it. Memaw's house is just...gone. All of the numberless memories of Christmastime and sleeping on the mattress in front of the TV and climbing trees and bedtime stories and junky cereal and playing with Papaw no longer have a place to be...they're just a concrete slab and some fruit trees.

Only memories in the aether of my mind's eye.

Married? Me?

2007-01-04T19:21:00.000-08:00

Yes, in fact, I did get married, though I, Abby (Conner) Thomas did at one time swear off marriage. Not permanently, I just declared that I probably wouldn't--nor did I care to--marry until my thirties. I was about 20 years old and already knew everything there was to know about the world and myself. Clearly.

Now to the part that "they" refer to as "marital bliss." I'm so excited! I can't wait for the future!!

I thought that since I have been away for so long, I would post some eye candy: pictures of our honeymoon! We went on a Western Caribbean cruise to Jamaica, Grand Cayman, and Cozumel. These are just ones of Jamaica. That's us trail-riding.

Tasty Cakes

2006-10-19T13:58:00.000-07:00

Tasty Cakes

Some things on my mind:

1. Does anyone else think that Katie Holmes looks like the rat Jenner from "The Secret of NIMH?" Am I alone on this?

2. JT hasn't updated his blog in a while...I'm thinking I might delete him from my favorites......

3. Addressing envelopes for weddings is tedious. Weddings in general are tedious. Oh, how I do struggle with tedium.

4. Nobody's reading this probably, but I don't care.

5. Just because no one understands you does not mean you are an artist.

6. Oprah is a pseudo-intellectual and pretty self-absorbed. First and foremost, she is an incredible actress. She's got most of America fooled into thinking that she is a woman of substance...Yet, I cannot turn away from the television.

7. The number of websites I check daily after school has increased to an absurd amount: MySpace, Facebook, Google, The Knot, Yahoo, Google again, Blogspot, eBay, and a few more. I'm addicted. Help me.

The Dumb Stuff People Do

2006-10-05T14:29:00.000-07:00

One of the reasons why we remember the High School Years:

Every morning, just after the first period bell rings, the loudspeaker comes on and we all recite the Pledge of Allegiance, the Texas Pledge, and then observe a moment of silence.

Yesterday, some skateboarding-type, long-hair, emo students were playing hakky sak before school when their hakky got kicked onto the roof. One Freshman decided to shimmy up a drainpipe onto the roof (over 2 stories up) to retrieve it--and got stuck. Kids were cheering and yelling "jump!". Faculty, principals, & assistant principals were out of their MINDS trying to figure out how to get him down and punish him. The principal was livid.

The first period bell rang and all students went to class, with that guy still up on the roof. As the loudspeaker came on with our morning routine, they were still trying to get him down, but in the middle of all of it, the kid STOPS to recite the pledge, the Texas pledge, and then observe the moment of silence...I must give him credit for relatively good character, just poor, poor judgement. I will say, though, by the time he's a Senior, he'll probably be a living legend.

...He gets out of In-school Suspension sometime in November.

Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens......

2006-10-02T19:00:00.000-07:00

Hey! I got engaged yesterday...to JT! He's my true love! We're getting married December 23rd. Our theme is Santaland...It's going to be so magical!! Does anyone know where I can get a Rudolph with a blinking red nose...you know, like the claymation version?

....I'm kidding, of course.

My wedding color is black.

Follow-up, Stat.

2006-07-04T19:03:00.001-07:00

Is anyone else slightly freaked out by the (now even more) very real concept of nuclear war? Not that I'm going to hunker down in a foxhole and wait for the apocalypse or anything...It just makes me a little nervous that just one crazy guy could totally eff it up for the rest of us by pressing a button. How did we get here, anyway?

So Here's the Long and Short of It

2006-07-04T18:41:00.000-07:00

Here's basically what has happened in the last couple of months:

First, I rekindled an old friendship back in April which turned romantic. This, in turn, triggered a chain of events that began with me deciding to move back to Houston, where my boyfriend lives. I quit my carptentry job at Watertower Theatre in Dallas (where my motivation had begun to gradually decline, anyway, and I had serious doubts that they were going to extend my contract) and packed up my stuff, sublet my apartment that I had lived in for barely three months, and moved back home--literally, in with my parents. I landed a job at the High School I graduated from teaching Theatre Arts. Granted, teaching in my hometown was definitely not my first choice, but the starting salary is phenomenal for a first year teacher...more than anywhere else I could have applied (as a matter of tact, I won't reveal exactly how much). So now, I'm working on clearing up my credit so I can buy a car in the fall and move back out of my parents' place by the end of October. I am hoping to also move back to the Dallas area after a couple of years. I never really liked Houston and I miss Dallas already. It was difficult to make the decision to move away in the first place. I guess this is the part of my life where I'm off seeking my fortune. Wish me luck, and to all the friends I left in Big D: I love you guys and I'll be back before you know it.

So this is my new blog to represent my paradigm shift. I hope to do some more serious--and consequently more insightful--writing here. There's just something about MySpace that will not foster that type of revelation in me....now there's a mystery.

In other news: I've begun to capitalize letters that require capitalization according to the English language when I type. You know, like a grown-up.