"What don't you do?"

Interesting. Had a first date tonight with Mr. Irish-guy, and within the first thirty minutes he said,
"I realize I don't know you all that well, yet, but I have a strong feeling that you don't realize how accomplished you are."
Insert my confused look here.
"Pamela, you teach kids how to read and you sing & play guitar with them--and I'm guessing you do that better than you realize, too. You know how to shoot a gun, fish and you've hiked the Grand Canyon. You've not only traveled to Africa, you've taught there, as well. You're a great writer and an entertaining and stimulating conversationalist. What don't you do?"

I'm sure it was flattery aimed at winning me over a bit, but it got me thinking.

What don't I do? As of late, I've been attempting to embrace more of my "bold and adventurous" side. While the list is still long, with each check off the list, I feel a little less fear.
I guess one thing I don't often do is look at my life from the outside. Friends (and occasionally strangers) have been giving me a little perspective lately. I've often been down on myself because I'm not GREAT at anything, but tonight it sounded different--hearing it from a fresh acquaintance.
Tonight, I just feel content that I've been given all of these amazing opportunities. I am me, and I do what I do--and tonight--that feels like enough.

A Decadent Day's Schedule

5:37a.m. Phone-tree rings with the news that the superintendent has canceled school.
Lay in bed and try to fall back asleep since someone was crazy enough to go to a late movie last night.
Make lists of errands to run and things to get accomplished since sleep isn't happening.
6:30a.m. Move to the couch and turn on the news--see what other districts are canceled.
Fall asleep watching boring news.
Wake up to the sound of the neighbor using her snowblower.
Think about shoveling.
Snooze some more.
Check email.
Take a swim in the warm tub.
Read.
Heat up some leftovers for breakfast.
Exchange emails with other teachers who are off today.
Redeem more of my giftcard delights on iTunes.
Download some new software.
Delete old files, pics and movies.
Figure out how to move purchased songs from the other computer to this laptop so all are on the blessed iPod.
Remember that a to-do list was written earlier.
Start watching a stupid movie...decide to get off the couch.
Wash the dishes.
Uncover the countertops and kitchen table.
Sweep.
Sort recycling and trash.
Sit on the couch and read again.
Change laundry.
Listen to the new cd. Just lay down and listen to the music without doing anything else.
Clean the bathroom sink.
Check messages on myspace.
Read more.
5:00p.m. Get dressed already!
Shovel out the end of the driveway to avoid getting stuck.
Meet friends for dinner.
Veg out with said friends back on the ol' couch.
Text some more.
Watch reruns of the Office.
Sit and think about the fact that someone shouldn't have slept and relaxed so much today because now that person isn't tired enough to fall asleep.
Write about it, hit Publish Post and try to go to bed again.

Unexpected

After a long, odd day of meetings, I was driving through the freshly snowed streets when I heard the familiar buzz of my phone.
Ugh. It was a day. I just wanted a blanket and my couch.
If I check the message, I'll have to reply and what if it's someone wanting something from me or some kind of favor or something. I'm spent!
But, ah, it was someone wanting to cheer me. I fought the urge to escape into my toasty blanket cocoon and quickly agreed to the plans to take in a little Juno. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I chuckled, giggled, smiled and belly-laughed throughout the movie tonight. Each line was so amazing that I actually tried to hold back the audible laughs so I wouldn't miss the next.

Now, as I'm nestled all snug on my couch, I can't remember why my day felt so rough earlier.
Ahh, the healing powers of friends (and movies) that make me let go and laugh.

The Events of an Ideal Sunday

Woke up to a friend's text at the perfect time.
Met for a late breakfast.
Wandered around the bookstore, then broke it's silence with my laughter over a great new book series. Seriously! The kids there were staring at me-probably wondering why the crazy, single lady was clutching so many of the books in "their" section.
Day-dreamed a bit in the travel section.
Hosted an impromptu living room concert for my friends-o-the-day, and got their thumbs up for the night ahead.
Went to a movie with the friends I couldn't shake. ;)
Buzzed back home, threw the guitar in the back, drove to my friend's baptism.
Soaked in my friend Jodie's story, once again, and was twice blessed. She has a gift for sharing her raw emotions (which, incidentally, does not help weepy friends who are supposed to sing, immediately following this testimony).
Surprised her with a song I chose for the event...she smiled and teared from the front row.
My 'nephew' Tate was delicately escorted out during the song due to his noticeable, repetitive, and yes, enthusiastic, "MIMI! Drum! MIMI! Drum..." (He apparently uses the word drum for any musical instrument...and I am Mimi) He even gave me the double handed wave & grin as he was hurried out, down the aisle by his beautiful, loving mom.
I re-engaged in the song.
The acoustics of the tiny church forgave what volume I lacked.
Jodie got the big dunk and rose with such joy, that I momentarily forgot that I was supposed to sing again.
Got choked up, missed a few chords, then fumbled some words
but I sang from my heart.

The day was kind of like a huge inhale/exhale cleansing session:
In with the friend-time, out with the loneliness.
In with the encouragement, out with the doubt.
In with the laughter, out with the stress.
In with the Spirit, out with the fear.

How am I so blessed?

Excitement and Fear

Exciting news! My neighbor, and close friend, Jodie is getting baptized this weekend! After bringing me near tears by sharing the details of a milestone meeting with God this past week, she followed it up with a question. "So, will you please play and sing that one song I love at my baptism on Sunday? It's been going through my head for days. (insert large, pleading eyes here)" Honestly, I was honored.
But, I'd be avoiding a little truth if I didn't admit my churn-of-the-stomach fears:
It will not only require that I walk into and participate in a church service (haven't for a few years now), but I will also be playing in front of people older than 7 years of age.
Ahh, the things you do for friends you love. I'll definitely need a little divine meeting of my own if I'm to play and sing with these rusty chords!