Pop a la Mode

I keep having this reoccurring dream every night for the past two weeks. It’s really quite disturbing and I have no idea why it’s there. I’ve read that dreams are a way for your subconscious to make you more aware of what you want but, really, this is ridiculous. Because there is no way on God’s green earth I want to do this.

My dream consists of me going back to college - specifically my alma mater Samford. It’s the present, I’m 30 and I’m being placed in the freshman dorm because there is no room for me anywhere else. I go to class, I have a bookbag, I do assignments and the entire dream, I keep thinking, “this isn’t right.”

I can’t determine if I’m continuing my education or trying to finish a degree. If it was a nightmare, I would for some reason have not graduated on time and be subjected to one more semester of classes (even though I have succesfully held a job for eight years). I even remember arguing with a professor in one dream because I knew he was wrong. I kept telling him, “I’ve done this for a living! You just teach it!”

And last night I dreamt that my roommate was my cousin Elizabeth! How weird.

Well this dream is not a wish my heart is making and I surely wish it would go away.

After Christmas and after New Year’s and after my birthday, I hit the winter blues. No more days off to look forward to; no reasons to party and certainly no snow days here in Alabama.

This weekend I tried to think of things that I could do that would help me defeat the winter blues and here is what I came up with:

1. Finally buy some threshold to install between my kitchen and den.

2. Clean out my closets.

3. Have a dinner party.

4. Finish that crossstitch I’ve been working on for four years.

And then, after reading that list, I was even more bummed out. I need to come up with some more exciting stuff to do for the month.

Any ideas?

Have you ever felt so completely loved and accepted that you couldn’t breathe? I have.

Last night, my family and friends surprised me with a 30th birthday party here in Birmingham. All my worlds collided in one room - my Virginia family, my Alabama family, my college friends, my church friends. I was completely blown away.

My brother had been planning this event along with my sister-in-law for months I found out. The running joke in my family is that I know everything - not in a know-it-all way but in a “I keep up with everybody” kind of way. So the fact that I was kept clueless and didn’t suspect a thing was a very big accomplishment.

There was wonderful food, fellowship, fabulous cake and a very entertaining video created by my own brother. Thankfully no naked baby pictures were included.

Every time I think of last night, I get this warmth in my chest. It fills up my heart and tears come to my eyes. I am so blessed and so thankful for every person that is in my life and I can only pray that my next 30 years are as filled with love as the past 30 have been.

Thank you everyone! You’ll never really know how much it meant to me.

Nevermind the fact that this coming Monday I turn 30. Today I feel like a five-year-old.

Why you may ask? Because Birmingham has a real chance of snow tonight with actual accumulations and everything. Some models call for 5 inches, some call for more and some call for none. But it’s the fact that it’s even there that makes me excited.

Not that I’ll get out and play in it. I possibly will not even leave my house the entire weekend if it does snow. It’s just how beautiful it looks and that it reminds me of drinking hot chocolate and working 1000 piece puzzles on the card table. And if the snow was really deep, my mom would make snow cream - fabulous stuff.

And Dad would take the tractor and scrape the driveway, leaving a skim of ice that we could sled down because it was a great hill for sledding. If we caught enough speed, we ended up in the snow bank across the street.

So bring it on Old Man Winter! I’m ready for you.

Robyn and I had the unfortunate opportunity last night to watch the newly re-launched “American Gladiators” on NBC. The gladiators are larger, scarier and I’m pretty sure the contestants are stupider.

First, there’s the dude that says he was taught to “embrace the pain” and go with it.

Second, there’s the dude that, in the first challenge of the night, had a gladiator actually snap his leg. But yet he was called a warrior. Whatever.

Then there was the bullriding contestant (female actually) that kept describing her run at glory as an 8-second ride. Except with more physical exertion on her part. She was real smart.

But my favorite person on American Gladiators was Hellga. Two “l’s” mind you and 210 lbs of pure woman with blonde braided pigtails. We’re a little frightened of her and awed by her at the same time.

So I’m back in the Big Ham and quite glad to be home. Except for the overwhelming amount of mail that was waiting for me. That’s really a waste of trees and money by all those companies. Nearly 2/3 went straight in the trash.

I have a new car - new to me at least. A Honda CRV and I lurve it. It was one of the more pleasurable drives back home that I’ve had. I’m still getting used to where all the buttons are and the fact that my lights don’t come on automatically but otherwise, everything is good.

Except for my neighbors. I think I’ve mentioned before that I live in the geriatric wing of Cabana Condominiums. And it’s lovely, on the most part. Quiet, safe and properly maintained.

But I have this one neighbor that is always up in my business. This morning, I was getting ready for the day and my phone rings at 7 AM. No one calls at 7 AM unless somebody died so it freaked me out. It was my neighbor, Joe. Here is the following conversation:

Me: Hello?

Joe: Lori?

Me: Yeah, hey Joe.

Joe: It’s me Joe, downstairs.

Me: I know.

Joe: Have you been in the hospital? Are you sick? We haven’t seen you in so long and I just knew something was wrong with you.

Me: Well Joe, it’s the holidays. I went home to Virginia and then I went out to California for work like I usually do. I’m usually gone at least two weeks, remember?

Joe: (Brushing past that) Yeah and did you get a new car? That’s nice. It must have been expensive.

Me: That’s my car. I’m glad you like it. (As if I’m going to tell him how much it cost.)

Joe: Is it a minivan? How many MPG do you get? What kind is it?

Etc. etc. etc.

Oh my word. I was not ready for a conversation like that first thing this morning. I’m glad he’s so observant but by jingy, give me some space. And stop being so nosy.