Hurricane Shmurricane

Thank you Hurricane Irene for being more hype than happening. And for missing my house.

My heart goes out to those who suffered devastation and loss due to this storm. I know many in my area are still without power, some with fallen trees, and a few with flooded homes.

I was very fortunate and for this I am thankful.

What I am not thankful for is the newscasters who made this storm out to be catastrophic. I understand and appreciate all the advance warnings. HOWEVER, please do not, during the strongest part of the storm, broadcast on national news that Virginia Beach is under extreme anything storm related. You freaked out my entire family. You caused them to not believe me when I told them it was hardly raining. That there was no damage that I could see. That this really wasn't more than a bad thunderstorm here. Thank you, for scaring them out of their minds for no reason. My parents were ready to send in the national guard. And I was snug as a bug, watching movies and enjoying a glass of wine. Yeesh.

On a lighter note, this is Molly McGee in her hurricane rain coat.



Once she realized this kept her dry on her walks, she was all about it.

Batton down the hatches!

We're gearing up for Hurrican Irene here this weekend. The experts still haven't come to a general consensus as to whether we're going to have a near direct hit or something more along the lines of a tropical storm. Either way, I'm saying my prayers and hoping for the best! We'll see you all on the flip side.

I like real people.

Real people who have days that don't go the way they planned and aren't afraid to admit it.

I was thinking about this post when I read the posts of two of my "blog ladies". (My affectionate term for the authors of my favorite blogs to stalk... er, umm, read) Amanda Blake Soule of SouleMama and Ellie G over at less cake {more frosting} both posted about real life today. Really real life. Not the perfectness many exclusively post. And while I love the pristine perfectness and drool over the many talents and creative ideas of all my "blog ladies", every once in a while, its nice to know there are other real people out there. Real people like me.

First let me say that things are going wonderfully in my life and I thank God for that daily. Second let me say that while things have been going wonderfully, the last... 2 months has been a little "off" in the professional realm and I'm starting to feel discouraged. Third I've been hypersensitive to this "off-ness" thanks to my doctor messing with my hormones - and we will just leave it at that.

Now to the real "meat" of what I intended to post.

I'm about three quarters of the way through the book "Your Secret Name: Discovering Who God Created You to Be" by Kary Oberbrunner. Its not a great book. I'm not recommending it. But a few things the author talks about got me thinking. He mentions the names people give us and the names we give ourselves.

Lazy. Worthless. Stupid. Fat. Ugly. Poor. Confused. Whore. Gay. Old. Crazy. Skinny. Hyper-active. Short. Prude.

And many other variations on this theme. Society can be very creative.

Oberbrunner talks of cutting the names that he and others had given him into his body. Literally. And that's the part that stuck.

So many times it really has felt as if the labels or "names" that others had given to me had been cut into my flesh each and every time I heard them. And the names I gave myself. Its like I can feel those words as deep gashes that bleed, scab, and scar.

As a child growing up in a small, rural community in Northern Pennsylvania, most of my school mates were of Irish, German, or Polish decent. Blonde and blue eyed. And I was not. At 5'10" today and never short a day in my life, I have always, literally, stood out in a crowd. Add my Cherokee heritage to that and you get only one word that isn't opinion based: Different. Roll that in with very critical, conservative, southern baptist parents and I didn't have a popsicles chance in August.

I think the names we give ourselves are rooted in the names that others have given us. When I'm able to calm down enough to rationalize the voices in my head that are beating me up they sound a lot like my 4th grade best friend, the little girl next door, my father, my Sunday school teacher, my cheerleading coach, my first boss, a college professor, the list goes on.

But it ends here.

I am Anna. I am not all those other things people have said I am. I have talents and I have things I should leave to other people with talents in those areas. I am many wonderful things and the things that are not wonderful about me, are wonderful about someone else. And that is perfectly okay.

This is the lesson we need to teach children and all those who have any interaction with children.

And the lesson we need to teach ourselves.

Dude we just had an earthquake!

In Virginia. For real. 5.8 centered between Richmond and Charlottesville. Here I am sitting in the office the floor started moving under my feet.

Now that's an experience I wasn't expecting as we gear up for Hurricane Irene.

Sewing for another Little Man

This time it's the bf's best friend. He and his wife are having a little boy and I whipped up a few things for her shower.

These bibs and paci-leashes were made out of scraps from skirts I made this spring.



I also put together some burp cloths with cute fabric and minky that was left over from the baby quilt that I made for my girlfriend Kristen's little man. And of course, I failed to take pictures of them.

I need a blogging resolution to take more pictures. REAL pictures. I own a DSLR for crying out loud.

In other news... the kitchen remodel is well underway! AND I've been taking pictures of each step. I'll hold off on the reveal until a few more things are done. ;)

I may be healed...

*WARNING* this is a self reflection post

(I always feel the need to give people a heads up when they're about to witness a little of my crazy girl side. You know, the emotional crazy that comes with having matching cromosomes.)

So it occured to me the other day that I might finally be healed. I may no longer be broken. At least with regards to romantic relationships.

You see, I dated this guy for most of my junior and senior year of college and after graduation. He was still an architecture major and so were all my friends, so they all had one more year after I graduated. (The perks of changing majors) About six months after I had graduated and moved to DC and we had been doing the long distance thing he told me he would rather date one of my college roommates. It was at this moment that I became broken.

It wasn't because I had thought that this was it, he was the one. Because I had. But that isn't what broke me. I always have a contingency plan. I have contingency plans for contingency plans.

It was that I had poured my heart and soul into the relationship only to have it all handed back to me in pieces and told that yet again, I was second best. If she hadn't been interested, he and I would have stayed happily together and I would never have known. She was interested. She wanted the happiness I had. And I was thrown to the curb.

You see, I've been second best my entire life. Second best in everything I've done. Even second best in my parents' eyes. (And don't tell me parents don't have favorites, that's a lie, they do.) Second best in school. Second best in sports. Everything. And here I was, listening to someone I loved very much, tell me that yet again, I was second best. Yet again. This was the one thing I didn't have a contingency plan for. And it broke me. Into pieces. I had poured my heart and soul into this one. Given it my very best. And it wasn't good enough. It is always not good enough.

That was three years and a lifetime ago. I've long been over that one. But somewhere, subconciously I decided I wasn't going to put forth that effort. I wasn't going to put myself out there like that. And so, in the relationships I've had since then, I've been selfish. (Relationships as in two, I don't want to sound like a hussy here!) I'll admit it, totally selfish. I did nothing for these guys. I liked them on some level, don't get me wrong. And I was a good girlfriend and we had fun. But I never did anything for them. In fact, if they asked me to do something for them, I would blow them off. Spontaneously doing something for them was out of the question.

Let me just interject that the people who knew me best knew this wasn't me. This was a self preservation tactic.

Well, fast forward to this weekend. My bf was headed on a trip with some hunting buddies. I made sure to make time in my schedule last week to make a batch of his favorite cookies for him to take on the road. Totally just did it, without even thinking about it. Then, knowing he was going to get back around dinner time, I made sure to have an awesome pot roast with potatoes in the crock pot that would be ready right when he walked in the door. I even asked him to let me know when he dropped off some guys that rode with him so I could pop biscuits in the oven and have them ready the moment he walked in the door. And then I got dressed, straightened my hair, and put on makeup!

It was right as I finished my makeup and looked in the mirror that I realized, holy shit, what am I doing! I must be fixed! Maybe I'm healed. I might not be broken any more!

It was astonishing to me.

And a praise Jesus moment.

You see, I had prayed many times over the course of the last three years that God wouldn't put a wonderful guy in my life until I wasn't broken any more. Until I had healed. Until I was ready to pour my heart and soul into building a relationship. I've been terrified that I would screw this one up and it would be my own fault because I'm still a head case. But, maybe I'm not. God's timing is perfect. He has a plan. I'm not going to say this is the one. But I am going to say this is the first one that could be. The first one in three years.

I've always joked that if God has a man out there for me, I haven't met him yet. And for the first time, I feel like I need to stop joking.

Monster Monday

Dexter was a big fan of all the canning I did this weekend. It provided the opportunity for this:



Fast asleep on the rug at the kitchen door. :)

He feels like he needs to keep an eye on me in case I do anything interesting. Once he decided I was staying put for a while, he was out for the count. What a life.

Please excuse the grass... Molly was in and out all day, I gave up on fighting whatever she tracked in until that evening.

Free! Free at last!

Well, for the next three weeks at least.

I handed in my last term paper for the summer last night at 6pm. Sigh of relief.

The class was easy in kind of a rediculous waste of my time and money way. But, its another three credits in the bag.

And now I have some free time. OOOOOooohh the things I plan to get done! Haha, if I accomplish just a few, I'll be soooo happy. (Especially if one of those is the kitchen remodel I have in mind!)

Monster Monday

Miss Molly McGee at the beach.








My Salty Dog.

Self Entertainment

A few weeks ago I went to OBX with the bf to do a little surfing. He surfed, I entertained myself on the beach.

Warning. Picture heavy.

OH, and heads up: I was experimenting with the aperture on my camera so the exposure on these is all over the place.