Foibles

foible [ˈfɔɪb^əl]

n

1. a slight peculiarity or minor weakness; idiosyncrasy

2. (Military / Arms & Armour (excluding Firearms)) the most vulnerable part of a sword's blade, from the middle to the tip Compare forte¹ [2]

[from obsolete French, from obsolete adj: feeble]

We are all feeble. We all have a foible. A vulnerable spot that is tender to the touch. A weakness ingrained into our character by a life experience. Isn't it ironic that our weakest spot may be the location we attack with most often? Think of all the sword fights that are seen on stage, in movies and on tv. Do they attack closer to the hilt of the sword? Do they feint and parry with the broadest section of the blade? No. Attacks come from the end or point of the sword. We push out the most vulnerable section of the sword in an attempt to see if we are stronger than our opponent. Each person's opponent is different and often intangible. Food, self-image, acceptance of where you are in life, jealousy, pride, greed, trust, love, family, sense of worth are a few that come to mind immediately.

That opponent can best us, can outsmart us, can needle us, can overcome our better senses. Wow. Way to be optimistic, right? I think opponents overpower us when we don't acknowledge their existence. When we hide our heads and pretend that these issues don't exist. When we believe that we can do it all on our own. 

 

I would like to share my opponent. I don't write these words lightly or to cause anyone else pain. But I feel that we all have opponents and when they are acknowledged and seen in the light of day, they are easier to strike with the hilt of the sword. My opponent involves a bruised heart and damaged idea of what I deserve.

 

Before I talk about that dark opponent, I want to share an idea I had over a year ago when traveling home for my birthday. I had a relationship end a few weeks earlier and while sitting in the airport words started to pour from my pen, words that I didn't know existed within me. Below is that journal entry.

 

"I don't even need to write about everything that has happened in the last two years because it's written on my heart. That's a great visual - how much room is left on my heart for my intended to write? Everyone has been greedy with my heart even when they didn't treat it with care. Do our hearts recover on their own or do I need to erase parts to make room for new? How have I written on my own heart? Is it clear what I've written or is it muddled? Undecipherable? I'd believe that it is clear, marked deep, even if no one knows what it says. Because the things we tell ourselves, the truths and the lies are ingrained. To change them, delete them, reface them to create a new landscape is the hardest work of all. I think the lies will be the most time consuming. How many years have I listened to Satan tell me that I am not enough, not worthy of love, not pretty, not skinny, not in control, too fat, too boring, too scared. The truths would only need a dusting, maybe a re-arranging. There aren't as many of them, therefore it would be an easier chore all around. Maybe sharpen some of the edges so they can cut deeper. If our hearts were hurt by the good, by truth, maybe we would start to listen to what that truth tells us. What God is telling us. What He's trying to get ingrained and marked boldly upon us. His truth is more powerful than anything Satan can promise us. And His truth will triumph every single time without fail, despite the spangles and glitter Satan uses to tempt us. Think of what I can stop doing if I write that truth on my heart! Stop questioning, striving, bargaining, worrying, obsessing, feeling worthless, stupid, ridiculous, angry,. How freeing that would be! So why hesitate? Why even question how to choose or make this decision? The hesitation comes from the idea of the work to be done to eradicate these feelings and ideas from my heart. They are so much a part of who I am, who will I be without them? Who am I intended to be and do I want to be that person?"

 

I have done a lot of resurfacing in the last year. My heart was paved freshly and marked upon by God and His love, grace, mercy and plan for me. Lately it has been written on by a wonderful man who does not hesitate to speak truth and love. His strokes are deep and true and will last the remainder of my life. But there are marks, like fault lines, that rear their ugly heads from time to time. Cracks and lies written on my heart that suddenly cause me to stumble, to question what I know is true.

 

My opponent is one that is hard to put a name on. If I had to title it, I would say it is jealousy born from rejection. I want to make it abundantly clear that this issue has absolutely nothing to do with my current relationship. This is a formerly fierce but weakening opponent that has manifested from previous relationships. Not to pull any punches here (is that the term I want?), but in past relationships I have been walked over when it comes to other women. Women who were "just friends" turned out to be anything but in almost every relationship I have ever had. This was not a one-sided issue. I would encourage my boyfriends to have friends who are women. I expected, although I didn't realize this, that they would eventually leave me. I wasn't worth fighting for. I should be walked away from. 

 

Acknowledgement of this opponent has not solved the problem. There is no wishful thinking or magic spell that I can conjure up that will kill this foible. Vast progress has been made, but I still succumb occasionally to fear, trepidation and illogical thinking.I take solace in the fact that my current boyfriend, the dear DH, is an amazing understanding man who I can talk to about this fear, who understands that this is something that he cannot solve but that I need support for anyway, who is, maybe most importantly of all, willing to listen to my fears and how I want to move apart from them. 

 

I want to strike with the hilt of my sword so that there is no weakness left, no foible present.

Hippy Dippy Granola Eater

I always thought that granola was a difficult thing to make. Kroger has made it easier with their bulk food section. Sarah made it easier with an easy to make recipe.

I made it harder by using wax paper instead of parchment paper the first time and then shorting the oats:nut ration last night. Sigh. If I would have stopped and thought about it, I would have realized (maybe) that the reason the recipe calls for 3 cups of oats is because you need 3 cups to soak up the brown sugar-honey-oil mixture to a reasonable degree. If you use 3 cups of oats you end up with crispy crunchy and toothsome granola. If you use 2 1/8 cups of oats and increase the nuts and then throw in 2/3 cup raisins, you end up with really chewy and almost overly sticky granola that may or may not pull your fillings out.

So, to recap, this time around there were no shreds of wax paper in the granola but thank heavens I had bought some parchment paper. I shudder to think what would have happened otherwise.

I'll gladly pass on the recipe if anyone wants it! The unadapted recipe, that is...

Just A Note

The thing I love most (so far) about AT&T U-Verse? Episodes of In Plain Sight on demand. And internet that PT Girl and I can use at the same time. Genius. Throw in Dove Coconut Creme eggs and I'm a goner.

Faces of Survival

I had the chance to spend last Friday evening with DH and his family.

What were we doing you ask? Were we out at a concert or sporting event? Were we eating some great food or looking at art? Were we just relaxing and hanging out?

We were invited to spend part of our night at the Relay for Life watching courage overtake fear, life overwhelm illness and joy dance across faces that know sadness. As I watched the Survivor's Lap come closer and closer to the lens of my camera, there were so many emotions that crossed through me. Emotions that I don't have any experience with in the context of cancer flitted by: sadness, hope, joy, release, bravery, panic, heroism.

I hope that as you look at the pictures below you see these beautiful survivors as true warriors.

It's A Nice Day For A White Wedding

It's official! My MIB has gotten himself hitched to his Shweetie. I am a sister-in-law. A sister-in-law. Does this mean Shweetie and I need to get together and french braid each others hair? Can she take off the ring first cause it's kind of hugely gigantic and it might get in the way?

So in honor of today:

My dear MIB,
  Do you remember that I idolized you before I could speak? Rumor has it that wherever you were, that's where I wanted to be. Until you realized I was pretty lame as a baby and our cousin was way more fun. But sometimes, in your down time, you and I would snuggle in mom and dad's bed and play peek-a-boo with the camera. When I look at those pictures now, I wonder if you had Stewie-like thoughts racing through your head? Were you plotting my demise as soon as mom turned her back?  Yeah, probably not. You loved me too much.

  Do you remember when we were both walking and talking and really wished the other person would disappear? Do you remember high school and how you revolutionized the grunge movement in our little hometown and how I wanted to die because you couldn't just be like everyone else? How you were convinced (or at least told me) that all my friends were vapid because they were CHEERLEADERS (gasp!) and I would yell some equally inane insult back? I'm so glad you weren't like everyone else. I'm glad we had our oil-and-water moments early enough in life to become more like vinegar and oil...complimentary, tart, smooth and a pair. Can we move to wine and cheese after this? Cause that's even more delicious than vinegar and oil!

  Do you remember when you moved halfway then the whole way across the country and we started on our slow journey of becoming friends and confidants? Do you have any idea how proud I was of you and in awe of you striking out on your own? Do you know that you helped give me the courage to look for my own path and then to fill my car with my life and take off? Do you understand how much your independence has affected me? Do you have any idea how you have shaped my views on red wine and gin martinis? Thank you, twice over.
   Do you remember how much I love you? Because I do. Do you know how proud I am of you and Shweetie taking the next step in life? Because I am. Do you understand how crazy excited I will be to see you both next month? Because I will be.
  I love you much, MIB.

Glee on Acid

I had a dream last night that involved the whole Glee cast. I don't remember much of it apart from Artie shooting up, Rachel crying and there was a dwarf involved. Maybe they're all disillusioned due to the popularity of the show?

I blame it on the double dose of allergy medicine combined with sun exposure.

Somebody help me. Thanks in advance.

Flapper Dresses, Well-Dressed Men and One Birthday Girl

DH and I attended a Prohibition style birthday bash last night. It was so much fun and everyone really got into it. I was secretly terrified that DH and I would show up and no one else would be dressed up. I went all out for me...which means I even went and bought a wig and costume jewelry...so I was really really hoping this was going to be the Roaring Twenties when we walked in. And it totally was, complete with bathtub beer, free flowing champagne and cigars.

The beautiful birthday girl!

The beautiful champagne cupcakes that the birthday girl made herself for us all to enjoy...

Lots of gorgeous dresses, feathered headbands and hats - and the headbands and hats were waiting for us when we walked in! Such a stellar idea. Here are some of Jess, Ashley and I.

Like I could end this post without some pictures of me and DH...DH who did not tell me until after taking pictures that my headband was making me look like Steven Tyler, and not in a good way. Thanks babe.

How could I not love this face?

A Lovely Morning

Yesterday morning I had the opportunity to spend some time with great friends, good food and amazing conversation. The wonderful YaYa was in town and brought Chubby Cheeks with her. It was a small group that met up and drove to Big D for brunch.


This is the gang

This is us taking advantage of the timer on my nifty camera

Two of the most beautiful women I know

This is the spread of goodness that we partook of

This is Hank reminding us that God cares for us

All in all, it was a great way to start a Saturday

A List Of Nine

1. The North Texas drivers have become increasingly erratic and worryingly dangerous in the last week. I think the sunshine has gone to everyone's heads and they're all high on Vitamin D.
2. Lucky Charms holds a spell over me. I want to eat the entire box in one sitting. Sometimes I resist...
3. My Lil' B and Library Girl are getting married in a little under 2 months. DH and I are journeying home for the nuptials...this is brave for two reasons. Mainly, he'll be meeting my entire family and he'll be meeting my entire family. Oh, that's only one reason, isn't it?
4. I spent some time in the library yesterday and returned home with nine books, including Pioneer Woman's cookbook. It looks strangely unused and I can't fathom why.
5. New running shoes make me ridiculously happy. Me knowing exactly what I needed in what size made the shoe guy at Luke's Locker ridiculously happy.
6. Adele's new album, 21, is on repeat in my car. And by repeat I mean I just keep starting it over.
7. The twin's talking on youtube is worth the time it takes to watch. They are what my Dad and Uncle would have been if my grandmother had owned a video camera.
8. Sushi for lunch yesterday makes me want sushi for lunch tomorrow.
9. I need a running partner. I need someone stubborn who won't stop running because I won't stop running. I won't stop running because they won't stop running. I get a little competitive. Ask KW, that's why we were such good running partners.  We're both not quitters. Well, she is kinda...but she's having a baby, so she's allowed.

Clearly the writer's block is still in place...

Roadblock

I have total writer's block...help. I can write you a novel on hearing and all the associated issues yet I can't come up with one interesting topic for a post. Maybe later?

Where I Won't Be This Week...Otherwise Known as AAA

If you're not obsessed with ears, here are some important translations before reading the post below:
NAFDA = National Association of Future Doctors of Audiology (or the most bad ass group of friends ever)
AAA = American Academy of Audiology (the big player in the audiology membership world)
ASHA = American Speech-Language-Hearing Association (the other big player that lacks severely; both accredit and certify schools/audiologists)
CCC = Certification of Clinical Competancies (a bogus certification that many employers continue to require despite it's meaningless affirmation of my skills)

For you audiology nerds out there, I really didn't miss convention all that much the last two years. I was too busy getting ready to move my life halfway across the country in 2009...not to mention convention was where I was moving to in a few short weeks. 2010 brought the chance to go to San Diego to party it up with Phonak, Oticon and more importantly my grad school and NAFDA peeps. Unfortunately membership dues are a pretty penny, friends, and I only make slightly attractive pennies at this point. They were even less attractive last spring. So I thought about convention this year, only to realize that I probably needed my CCCs for job purposes, despite the complete lack of benefits or advocacy that ASHA provides for us ear-loving folks. I didn't have a cool grand to throw around to different organizations so hard choices had to be made. As a result I won't be heading to Chicago this week.

And I feel like an ear lovin' slacker. I miss the sessions and learning and thinking critically about what's new and how it can be applied to better serve patients. I miss ambushing the most intelligent minds in the field outside the restroom and finding out that simply because I went to a certain university I am given a couple extra seconds to make a connection. I miss being able to say that I am taught and know and bask in the gloriousness that are some of those same minds in the classrooms I sat in week in and week out. I'm not gonna lie, I miss the free stuff and the free food and the kick butt parties too, but they were never my focus...ok, maybe the first year when the manufacturer's row opened up and there was a plethora of reps trying to woo you to their company. Until they realized you were a lowly student who had no authority to choose which hearing aids to buy. Then backs were turned, as a general rule. Which frankly never made any sense to me since I was going to be the one buying hearing aids in a few short years.  Why didn't the companies invest in the future? They collectively seemed to think if we were given free crap that we would be mollified. Are doctoral students that gullible in general?  Anyway, I digress.

So, for you who will be fortunate enough to sit in hotel chairs and learn from the best minds available this week, to sit with old friends and reminisce and laugh until you can breath, to walk through the convention hall and be wooed by all our reps (some much lovelier and less greasy than others) please know I'd do VNGs for a year to be there with you.

Poolside

There are fewer things in this world more entertaining than listening to conversations at the pool. Today it was the resident blowhard, his mother and her boyfriend, maybe. Did you know that no one ANYWHERE is getting iPad second editions because there was an earthquake and tsunami in Japan and they can't adhere the microchips with the special Japanese resin right now?  Our world as we know it may come to a screeching halt. After another couple Millers and Dos Equis the boyfriend (who is probably older than my dad) states that he is going to use his company for all the perks possible before they figure out he doesn't do half of what they pay him for. Way to announce that in public like it's something to be lauded. Drink another, my neighbor, drink another.
 And through this all their radio blared something akin to a dance club which they all complained about but didn't bother to reach over and change. Geniuses, all of them.  At least they're entertaining...