this is the blog where we talk about the stuff.

My good pal, Sarah, has a great idea for those of us who are resolution-challenged.  She decided to have a different resolution every month, and invites everyone to join her.

February is the month of Drinking Only Water & Taking a Picture Everyday.  I forgot about Drinking Only Water today, so I’ll go one extra day in March.  You can read about Sarah’s Month of Resolutions Idea here.

So, here’s picture 1.  I took this picture because we are trying to Baby Wise the Holls.  Don’t judge.  We feel like it’s the best way to get her to go to sleep on her own.  Anyway, it may be hard on a Mom’s heart to watch the monitor move to the red (that means she’s REALLY angry with us for leaving her), at least I have the peace of mind that she won’t be 16 and still wanting someone to rock her to sleep.

While I was waiting and waiting and waiting in the doctor’s office today (Holland’s 4 month check-up; all systems go), I killed some time browsing through my Google Reader.  I stumbled upon a story about a guy who wrote a little piece about the songs that remind him of his home.  And I thought,

What a fun idea.

I think this exercise says a lot about where we grew up and how we grew up.  So I’m gonna share my songs.  And you share yours.  At least a couple.  Either in a blog post, or in the comments, but I think this will be fun.

Here are a few of mine:

1. I listened to a GREAT DEAL of Caedmon’s Call in high school.  I would’ve drank their bath water.  So they’re on here a few times actually.  In fact, the whole 40 Acres album probably deserves to be on this list, but it’s not a list of albums, it’s a list of songs.  The title song to 40 Acres is the perfect song to play on the last stretch of road to my grandparent’s ranch.  And also, Back Where I Began off that same album reminds me of sitting outside FBC Canyon during the summer, waiting for our parents to pick us up after Wednesday night Priority.  Good times.

2. George Strait’s The Fireman was my little brother’s favorite song, bar none.  He would sing it all the time and knew every word.  My mother even misplaced him in Michael’s one day and tracked him down by following the sound of him singing The Fireman.  Ironically, the Fireman is not about an actual firefighter, but a guy who runs around town making out with hot women.

3. TLC’s Waterfalls.  I distinctly remember this being the last dance at the 8th grade Valentine’s Dance.  I had a boyfriend at this dance, and his little brother was born that night.  In case you were wondering, sadly, this is what I looked like in the 8th grade:

I know.  Could I be more lovely?  Truly, no.

Ok.  I’ve shared some of my home songs.  Your turn.  Don’t let me down.

StoryCorps is a non-profit organization that encourages listening by recording the stories of people in your life.  I frequently hear StoryCorps recordings on NPR and basically always end up in tears or laughter.  It’s a great idea, and a great show.

On November 27th, StoryCorps is hosting their 2nd annual National Day of Listening.  You can learn more here, but basically, you pick an interview subject and ask them questions about their life.  I’ve decided to do three subjects: my Nene, my Papa Hicks, and my Mama.  These are my three living grandparents and I am excited about learning more about their lives.

The National Day of Listening website has a DIY guide that tells you everything you need to get started, as well as a question generator, which is helpful.  There are some really good questions on there, but feel free to make up your own.

I’m doing this because I don’t want the stories of my grandparents to be lost to time.  I want to know them in my heart, so I can pass them on to Holland and our other kids.

So, if you decide to participate, let me know and we can all share our stories!

The Biscuit is rockin’ a low grade fever today, so I’m home on my shift of keeping her away from non-feverish children at childcare. Right now, she’s sleeping peacefully, which affords me the opportunity to review Don Miller’s new book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. I’ve been meaning to for awhile, but haven’t had the time. Plus, it’s taken me a bit to process. So join me and this carton of Chocolate Pretzel Sensations as we discuss Mr. Miller’s newest venture.

Here’s a quick confession: I’m one of those people who goes ape for Don Miller. I think he’s a smash-up writer, very witty and charming and he puts words together in a way that makes me want to sing about rainbows and clap his hand in a mousetrap at the same time. I’m “one of those people” about Don Miller. Unfortunately, I’m also “one of those people” about Zac Efron, movie musicals, this ice cream I’m currently enjoying the heck out of, and Harry Potter. So, this is a strike against Don, I’m sure. But I like him. I liked Blue Like Jazz a lot. The statement in BLJ that the Bible is more of a chocolate book than a salad book was so revelatory to me, as a little college kid, I thought I was on the road to transcendence. NO ONE IS AS ENLIGHTENED ABOUT GOD AS I. Which is a foolish thing all college kids think, but no one says aloud.

Either way, Kinsley accidentally got an extra copy, and he let me have it, which was awful nice, Kins, and I hope I said thank you. I’m pretty sure I finished the book within the next couple of days, and I really liked it. First of all, it’s Don (I’m gonna call him Don because he once replied to a tweet I sent him [on his PUBLIC timeline] and because it’s better than writing out “Don Miller” every 5 seconds) best book so far. He is an excellent writer, and he’s just gotten better. I don’t know if it was the Robert McKee seminar or the exercises in writing different mediums or just a maturing, but it’s extremely well-written.

So there’s that. Also, it’s a pretty genius premise. I get paid to write at work, which is great. I’ve been learning about the working parts of story ever since high school. I was a theater major in college. I’ve heard the words “inciting event” and “character development” a lot in my life. Which is not to say I know a whole lot about the concept of story(telling), but at least I’ve been exposed to it. And I don’t think it would have ever occured to me that these parts of story could be used in real life. Don does a real good job of not making you feel stupid that you didn’t come up with this yourself, as it’s such a glaringly obvious thing that writers in general should recognize. You get to go along on his journey of discovery, which is really neat.

I don’t want to give the book away, but it stirred some things in me. One, I’m not living a story that means much. I spend a lot of time on the computer, a lot of time on my phone, and a lot of time watching episodes of ‘30 Rock.’ When I think about the moment right before I die, and in that moment, I look back at all the moments that have made up my life, I don’t want to remember a montage of Tracy Jordan taking his shirt off.

Two, I’m obsessed with things. Don talks about how he bought a Roomba vacuum and how stupid that is. He says,

“The ambitions we have will become the stories we live.  If you want to know what a person’s story is about, just ask them what they want.  If we don’t want anything, we are living boring stories, and if we want a Roomba vacuum cleaner, we are living stupid stories.  If it won’t work in a story, it won’t work in real life.”

This is how I am.  I want a lot of stupid things.  I wanted an iPhone when they came out and spent a truly disgusting amount of money on one and I loved it and thought I was the bee’s knees.  And then, the new iPhone came out with 3G.  And then the NEWER iPhone came out with video and it was white.  And the white was so cool.  And I told myself I needed that phone, if I could just get that phone, my life would be good and all the stupid things people say to themselves when they want stupid things.  And there’s really nothing wrong with having an iPhone, but I made it such a big deal.  And I do that with other things.  If I could just get a cool haircut, if I could just lose some weight, if only I had a bigger house, and so on and so forth.

So what will I do now that I’m confronted with these things about myself?  First, I’ve got to stop being obsessed with stuff.  This includes being in the know about stuff, especially stuff related to my job.  I don’t know how to stop other than to pray about it, which is probably something my life could use more of anyway.

Secondly, it’s time for me to stop sitting on my butt.  I’ve implemented some new life rules in order to get up off my butt.  They are as follows:

1. No more computer until after Holland goes to bed.
2. I can have three TV shows at a time.  Right now, they are 30 Rock, The Office, and Bones.  Bones will have to take a backseat when LOST comes back on.
3. I need to do SOMETHING.  This is vague, I am aware.  I’m working on it.

I feel like I should make some grandiose statement like, I’m going to run a marathon, and then that would be an inciting incident and I would be forced to train for a marathon.  I’d rather die, than run a marathon, but I’ve got to figure something out and do it.

I’ve also been struck by the question of is it just rich people (meaning me, you, and everyone with a computer, Americans, etc.) that have trouble living good stories.  Because we don’t need anything.  Nothing pushes us.  We’re comfortable.  Don says that the thing about living a good story is that it sounds great at the beginning, but it’s hard.  And you’re not going to want to do it.  But joy costs pain.

JOY COSTS PAIN.

So, I really liked A Million Miles… and I’m glad that I read it.  It’s beautiful and full of important things for people to mull over.

I have a friend that is not living a good story.  I don’t know if they know it, but everyone else around them knows it.  And everyone (literally, almost everyone they know) is trying to push them out into a better story, but there’s a lot of resistance.  I was talking to a mutual friend about it and she said, “It’s like (they) aren’t a witness to (their) own life.”

I think it’s important that we are witnesses to our lives and the lives of others.  It’s important that we remember hurts and pains and happiness and joy, because they are all a part of the Greater Story that God is telling and we are characters in.  And we want to remember God’s faithfulness and His love within our own little story.

Oh.  This blog post is bordering on 1300 words.  I’ll stop now.  More later.

When I was a kid, The Phantom Tollbooth was one of my favorite books.  The hero of our story, Milo, finds a mysterious tollbooth in his room (I’d say any tollbooth in my room would be mysterious) and uses it to go on an adventure to the Lands Beyond.  When he first arrives, he stops paying attention to where he’s going and ends up in the Doldrums.  The Doldrums is basically a place where no one thinks and everyone is sleepy.

Internets, here’s the deal:

I am in the Creative Doldrums.  I can’t think.  And I’m very sleepy.

Before I get on a roll about this, let me just preface by saying: I love my job.  I can’t believe I get to do what I do.  If my 9th grade self could see me now, I know she’d be FLIPPING OUT.  She’d say: “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you work for Student Life!  Do you know Travis?”  And then I’d tell my 9th grade self that I DO, in fact, know Travis and that sometimes we even grill hot dogs at his house and she would promptly faint from SHEER DELIGHT.

Anyway, I really like my job and enjoy it, for the most part.  I am actually using my degree (which was THEATER, so…that’s incredible) and could my parents be more proud of this fact?  No, they could not.  Lately, however, I’ve noticed a slight change taking place in my daily workload.  There’s a script I should be writing and there’s also some mundane administrative duty I need to perform.  Normally, I would slough off the admin task, as admin tasks are boring and I would rather die.  But not lately.  Lately, the admin task seems more appealing.  The looming script deadline hangs ever over my head, but boy, have I made some spreadsheets!  You simply would not believe the spreadsheets.

I know what this means for me.  It means I’m stuck.  I stare at assignments and NOTHING comes to my mind.  I get up, walk around the building, see the baby, get some tea, and I’m stuck.  The fingers fly over the keyboard for the spreadsheets, but not for the scripts.

I pretty much know why I’m stuck.  Here are a couple of reasons:
There’s a baby.  She’s cute and cuddly, but also a sleep sucker.
I have no creative outlet outside of work.

It’s really that last one.  Even my free time is mostly spent writing freelance, so still work.  It’s very fun work and I enjoy it, but my brain is at maximum capacity.

So, I’ve got to find a cure.  I mean, this is my job.  My job is 10% spreadsheets, and people will get suspicious if all these spreadsheets start popping up everywhere.

I trolled the internets for some solutions.  It seems many people have this problem.  Art-Slam says I need to change the scenery and flip the script.  John Cleese says I need to go on auto-pilot for awhile and see where my whims take me.   E-How (yes, I have stooped to E-How) tells me to write down my goals, do something different, and not be afraid of support.

In The Phantom Tollbooth, Milo is rescued from the Doldrums by a dog with a ginormo clock embedded into his side named Tock.  So I’ve got to figure out what my Tock is.  Any suggestions on getting out of these old, sleepy Doldrums?

I’m all ears, internets.