Imaginiff...
Over Christmas, we initiated a new family tradition, which was pretty much awesome. It consisted of the fam chillin around the dining room table at Mimi's (what the twins call my mom) Christmas night and playing games. That's right, games.
Brian and I brought Apples to Apples, and it was fun, as it always is, but the real hit of the evening was
Imaginiff, contributed by Mimi herself. This game is pretty much awesome, especially if you play it with people you know. You put the names of those playing around the board, which has a dry-erase surface. There are 8 spaces, so if there are less than 8 players you can fill in the empty spots with people everyone knows. They can be people you really know, like Aunt Betty, or people like Jessica Simpson, who somehow made it onto our board but was quickly replaced for a general lack of interest.
Anyways, you roll the dice and land on someone's name, then pick a card and read it aloud. It will say something like "If _________ was a mode of transportation, he/she would be:" and go on to list 6 choices. Each of the choices are numbered, and each player has cards with the number 1-6 in their hand. Essentially you're just voting on what you think best matches that person. The fun part is when you all flip your cards over and see how the jury ruled.
It was pretty funny with the family. Since we all know eachother pretty well some of the rulings were unanimous (like if Caroline were on a long road trip the thing that would annoy her the most would be 4: if her cell phone died.) And some were split decisions (like if Emily were a mode of transportation she would either be a 1: pogo stick, 4: corporate jet, or 6: sports car). I learned a lot about myself, or should I say, what my family things of me. Apparently, I am well suited for a range of reality TV shows, from the Apprentice to American Idol, but NOT the Amazing Race. What's that about? I could SO eat fisheyes. Anyways, it was really fun and I highly recommend the game.
A funny thing happened on the way to the nail salon...
Yesterday my mom, or "Mimi" as she is now affectionately called, treated her three daughters to pedicures at the nail salon down the street from her house. I was already on my way out the door when she surprised me with the good news and we planned to meet at 2. My sisters and my mom all get pedicures once in a while, but I have actually only had one pedicure...ever (I know, perish the thought). Although I'm pretty girly, I am also extremely cheap when it comes to things I can do well myself. My only pedicure was a couple of days before my wedding, and this was long before you could find a quick, cheap, in and out nail salon in every shopping plaza. My only pedicure was at a hair salon, and there was no massaging chair or salt scrub involved. In short, I had no idea what I was in for.
Sometime before 2pm I became keenly aware of the fact that I don't shave my legs every day in the winter. I know, perish the thought. Hey, life's been busy. All of a sudden I realized that my neglected legs were going to be handled and stared at by someone who would surely judge me for my lack of upkeep. I forced Brian to take me to the drug store so I could shave my legs really quick before we went. It seemed like a good idea...at the time.
Au contraire. Apparently this is the well-known cardinal rule of pedicures (in this world that I am clearly not a part of). "Do not shave 24 hours before." This also includes "Do not shave dry 20 minutes before." I had no idea. Everything was going nicely, until the nailpolish remover.
The water was nice and warm and the jets felt great on my feet. The nice lady doing my pedicure put gloves on before using nailpolish remover to remove the old polish. The nailpolish remover got all over her gloves, and then it happened. She reached for my other leg as I unsuspectingly chatted with my mom and sisters. She grabbed my ankle to switch legs and it was a shocking, stinging, home alone moment (minus the scream). It was pretty much downhill from there. She used like 19 chemicals in all, pushing each one a few more inches above my ankle until my whole leg was on FIRE. The salt scrub was the worst. I'd rather not relive the experience, but just imagine salt on open wounds. You get the idea.
Anyways, once the soothing pedicure had ended and the onslaught of chemicals on my battered (but hair-free) legs had calmed, it was smooth sailing. We went shopping, went about our day, and went home. Then, around 8pm, they started to sting again! I pulled up my jeans to find horribly blotchy burning skin underneath! It looked like I had red socks on. I spent the remainder of the night sitting as still as possible so as not to disturb the raging fire between my ankles and my knees, using icepacks whenever necessary. Case in point: It is better to let the nice lady at VS nails see that you haven't shaved in a few days than to have chemical burns all over your legs.
PS - don't try to put Vaseline on to soothe the burning...it only makes it burn worse.
Back from...
Well, we're certainly not back from the dead...maybe you could say we're back from too much living. The last 2 weeks have been an abolute whirlwind of activity, and although some of
my more committed blogging friends have been faithful in blogging through it, I have (obviously) not. So where should I start.
Well we had our first Christmas party in our new home, which was a good time. And of course, the next morning my post Christmas depression started to creep in. I decided that this year I wouldn't let it get to me until the appropriate time, not that I'm altogether sure when that is. Either way, it was only December 16th and I chose to enjoy the last 2 weeks of this year very much in the Christmas spirit.
Right after the party ended, I took my last graduate course ever. I'll pause here for a moment. I started grad school a year after we got married. I often refer to myself as the oldest 25-year-old you've ever met, and going to an evening class in Albany and not getting home until 10pm once a week doesn't really fit into my 25 going on 40 lifestyle. I have therefore spent a large portion of the last 2.5 years, during which I've been in class, complaining about it. So on the 15th, myself and my class (5 other girls I've been in class with the last couple of years) decided to celebrate, since 4 of us were in our last class and moving on to work independently on our theses. It is really amazing to me how time can pass so quickly. All of a sudden, that chapter of my life...rushing out of work, eating fast food, reading from my textbooks on my drive down the Northway :) ...it's all over! Believe it or not, it was a little bittersweet, since I am truly a geek and really enjoyed the classes once in a while, not to mention the people I met. Anyways, I'm looking forward to finishing my thesis, hopefully this December, and walking across that stage!
So anyways, after my last class, the real insanity began. We were in full swing preparing for and promoting Northway's Christmas Eve services. Northway was planning to open it's second location in Clifton Park, and although various hurdles were ahead of us, our bold leadership decided that God could make it happen despite these hurdles, and we advertised seven services Christmas Eve weekend in not one, but TWO locations. Not only was the facility still in need of a LOT of work, we needed a certificate of occupancy from the Town of Clifton Park to allow anyone through the doors, and that would be nearly impossible to obtain right before Christmas.
I will not lie, I had my doubting Thomas moments. Walking into the building just days before, I remember looking at a friend and saying "It will be a miracle if this happens on Sunday." Well, it was. And although it's easy to see the miracle in the big things - 800 people worshipping in our very first service Christmas Eve - I had the pleasure of seeing the smaller miracles. Like the family with 2 teenagers that came out the day before we opened and mopped floors with me for 3 hours. Or the night my husband got home after 4 a.m. but couldn't stop telling me about all the awesome things they'd accomplished that night. Or the woman who had been cleaning with me for 3 hours, who later told me she was actually out shopping but saw us cleaning and realized we needed help, so she dropped all of her plans to make it happen. Or the husband and wife who had been there working every moment the doors were open for weeks, who were all dressed up, smiling and greeting every volunteer who came on Christmas Eve (although I'm sure they were utterly exhausted).
I could go on and on, but I think the most beautiful thing I saw in the midst of all of this was true selflessness. People taking time out in the busiest days of the year to do something completely unselfish, despite their own needs or wants, or the fact that they would receive no praise or recognition for it on earth, other than the satisfaction of knowing that they had served God by scrubbing toilets, mopping floors, and painting walls. No satisfaction other than an earnest belief that the windows they had cleaned would somehow have an eternal impact.
During the latter part of this year, Brian and I were made aware of how utterly selfish we tend to be. Our world is pretty comfortable, and why shouldn't it be, since it revolves pretty much around us and no one else? I mean, yeah, we're "good" people. We are nice to our neighbors, we pay all of our bills and we're involved in our church, but suddenly our eyes started to open to those around us, both near and far, whose worlds couldn't be more opposite.
A good friend of mine, and also a faithful proofreader of many papers, important e-mails and the like, was reading our Christmas card this year and asked me what I meant when I wrote that Brian and I were trying to broaden our context. To her credit, I think there is a very good chance that I coined that phrase while writing. So let me explain in case anyone else out there doesn't think it was the grammatically correct way to conclude our Christmas greeting :)
We live in a lovely little context. We have a nice home, we both have cars, we both have jobs and get paid every week. We love eachother and have great friends. We love our church and spend a lot of time there. Everything we do contributes to the balance of our little world, the context we live in. Whether good or bad, it all works out to keep things rolling along nicely in the world of Brian and Libby. Maybe living beyond our context would ideally mean moving to Africa and understanding what it really means to live in a city that has no source of water within a 3 mile walk, or going to church in Pakistan where at any given time, the congregation could be stormed and killed for no reason other than their decision to be there.
But I think that we can start to live beyond our context by acknowledging the safe bubble we live in. By appreciating it and thanking God for the luxuries we have, both big and small. By making a conscious effort to be selfless and kind even when it reaches outside of our bubble and will have no positive returns for us. And by painting the walls in Clifton Park even though no one will pat you on the back for it, just because you know it needs to be done, and you want to be the one to do it.
It's been too long...
I had a feeling that it had been too long since I'd logged in to comment on, well, whatever it is I comment on. My suspicions were confirmed when I went to log in and couldn't remember my username and password. I am starting to favor the idea of a microchip I just scan in front of everything so I don't have to remember 1,001 passwords any more. I have four separate passwords JUST for the blogs I manage (not all my own), not to mention my five e-mail accounts, all checked on a regular basis, my 3 bank accounts (none Swiss), information saved in Amazon, Harry and David, Barnes and Noble, Overstock.com and pretty much every other online retailer. The list goes on...SallieMae.com, my health care provider, my dental health plan provider, every utility bill I pay, ebay (of course), paypal, every single airline's frequent flyer club (I think I have one frequent flyer mile at each airline, which if combined, after the transfer fee, will buy me one bag of peanuts), my auto insurance...even EZpass requires me to log in! There are many more but I won't bore you with the details, you could probably name them for me b/c you have all the same accounts.
In addition to the above referenced "personal" accounts, I have 15 separate logins for various work functions, whether they be my corporate AmEx or the various systems I log into each day. These are the absolute worst, because they all have to be changed every 21 days or something. It takes me 21 days just to remember them! So I do what any other privacy concerned employee would do...I list them on a post it note just above my PC or "craptop" as some people call them (grrrrr). Hey, it's better than putting all of my personal info in a Word doc on my desktop labeled "Passwords" (who does that??).
Anyways, work decided this was absolutely absurd (as it is) and they came up with this thing called P-Synch - the mother of all password "tools." P-Synch basically allows me to somehow synchronize the various systems I work on so that once I'm logged into my machine, I can just log into other things without entering my password. Here is the catch: So far, there are only 2 systems P-Synch actually works with. And yesterday I got an e-mail from IS that 1 will not require, wait for it.....a password! I have gotten 4 e-mails from IS this week reminding me to
REMEMBER MY PASSWORD (in uppercase red bolded font, as shown). I don't even know what my user name is for this particular system. I do however, remember my mother's maiden name, which, as it turns out, is all I, or anyone wishing to steal my identity, needs to know.
To their credit, the masterminds behind the idea of people forgetting their passwords every day have gotten more creative with the "security questions" they put in place in case you forget your password. Here's the thing - I don't remember the answers to those either.
Example: Where were you born? This could warrant a number of answers, all correct (e.g. Syracuse, St. Joseph's hospital, New York), and by the time I find the correct answer I would most certainly have locked myself out of my account. And they're getting much more difficult.
Example: What was the name of your favorite teacher? (Answer: no clue) What is your favorite vacation destination? (Answer: Well it's funny you should ask, because I have been pondering whether I like Maui or Mexico better...)
Ok I've gotta go e-mail IS b/c I just tried three incorrect passwords and locked myself out of yet another system...
Notice to New Yorkers: This is not a blizzard
Upstate New Yorkers never cease to amaze me on the first snow of the season. Every year, without fail, they forget how to drive. No seriously, they forget about black ice, and about other cars, and about the fact that just because you drive a ridiculously large SUV, you are not able to outwit black ice.
Today it took me about 50 minutes to get to work--double the usual time. In fact, it took my 15 minutes just to get from exit 13N halfway to exit 12. A car had spun off the road causing the delay. It was a Toyota Tundra. Then things progressed slowly at about 15 mph as I approached exit 10, where a Ford Explorer had done the same. All of us little cars drove by in wonder and amazement. Gee, guess they hit a really bad spot that EVERYONE ELSE ON THE ROAD seemed to avoid. NO! Not the case. How hard is it to drive with some small amount of caution?! This isn't even bad weather people, this is nothing!
What's amazing to me is that on days of far more inclimate weather than today, my drive will not take nearly as long despite worse driving conditions. Which brings me back to my original point. Upstate New Yorkers become idiots during the first snowfall of every year. They forget how to drive in even the smallest amount of snow, and I get to work very, very late. If I can do it in my 15 pound Mazda Protege with all-season tires nearing the end of their short life, you can do it to. In the words of the wise C-Diddy (that's for you Mary) "Play it safe, Play it smart."
Check it out
Great article about the movie. So many good points in here that I hesitate to choose a few, but here goes:
I was kind of struck by the fact that we rarely look at that story from a character standpoint. When we put out our little Nativity sets, they're kind of inanimate objects. ~Screenwriter Mike Rich
There are faith-based movies being made, but usually for micro-budgets, and usually designed to reach a very specific niche market. Our argument to New Line was: Well, if 200 million Americans who consider themselves Christians are a niche, then that's a niche that maybe you should consider working with. ~Producer Bowen
There's a line in the script, "the greatest of kings born in the most humble of places." That's revolutionary. It's saying the power is not a physical power. It's not riches, it's not money, it's not control of governments and nations. It's a deeper power, spirituality... It's revolutionary even now. We can't even grasp that now. We think we need all the trappings and physical things to be happy, but that's not necessarily the case. ~ Director Catherine Hardwicke
Over Christmas, we initiated a new family tradition, which was pretty much awesome. It consisted of the fam chillin around the dining room table at Mimi's (what the twins call my mom) Christmas night and playing games. That's right, games.
