Ten Kinds of Crazy: A Memoir

A while back, I decided if I ever wrote a memoir, "Ten Kinds of Crazy" would be the title. I chose it, for no other reason than I like the way it sounds.

If I had to name the 10 kinds of crazy I am, here and now...it might be boring. As crazy people go, I'm pretty garden variety. I'm a coffee snob; I don't like my food to touch; I have issues with eyeballs...serious, deep seeded, gag-in-an-instant kind of issues; I am afraid of heights; I still, 13 years later, have dreams about missing exams in college; I regularly have nightmares about teeth. Long story; I am convinced no one really likes me and that even people who act like my friends are just being polite; I am terrified of brown recluse spiders, though I've never seen one in real life; I have a hard time eating store-bought pastries; and I am generally suspicious of dairy products.

Now for the catchy titles/headings:

Ten Kinds of Crazy by Tina Gaspard (note to self: work on a pen name)

1. The Coffee Snob or Get the Folgers Outta My Face

2. The "No Touchie" Foodie

3. Like, totally, gross me out with an Eyeball.

4. High Anxiety (thank you Mel Brooks)

5. Lost. Missed the Final. Sometimes Naked.

6. New on DVD: When Teeth Turn on Their Owners!

7. Nobody loves me. Everybody hates me. I'm gonna eat some worms.

8. Brown. Recluse. Spiders!

9. Don't Fear the Fake Baker.

10. Expiration Dates and the Big Bang Theory.

Sounds like a best-seller to me! No one steal my idea, ok? I mean, I know there are lurkers out there...people who stop by and think they don't leave a mark. But, I'm tellin' you...you steal my idea and I will find you. My cousin-in-law is a lawyer, so are three guys at my church, so...um...I'll bring it like O.J....legally speaking, of course. I won't have a knife cuz I'm not Eleven Kinds of Crazy.

Or maybe I am?

11. Paranoia on Parade?

Pick Your Hard

"Losing weight is hard. Being overweight is hard. Pick your hard." (HT: Quiet Life)

Pick your hard. 

Can't that be applied to any area of life? 

Pick your issue, then pick your hard...and hang on till it's not hard anymore.

Good. Practical. Kinda in-your-face advice. I think I might take it. :)

Men

Tonight, as I was simultaneously chatting on Facebook and watching Joe Versus the Volcano, I realized something...I just really like men. I like them a lot. I like the way they look and the way they are shaped and the way they smell. I especially like when they are tall and have nice shoulders. Dirty hands are good too...sometimes. Is that weird? One time, when I first started working, I got butterflies watching a guy fix the thingy that makes doors shut on their own. What are those called? I have no idea. Anyway, I didn't even like the guy. He was actually very nerdy. But, still, I got butterflies watching him fix the door closer thingy. Anyway, I like men. I don't have one, though...so I have to like them from a distance, which is also kind of weird cuz most times they either belong to someone else or come to belong to someone else sometime in the not too distant future. But I like them just the same. If you have a man, especially one with nice shoulders, thank the Lord, will ya?

The end.

Why I Love Being an Aunt

My Fridays are usually pretty predictable. I get off of work at 11:30a, do whatever I want until 2:30pm and then I start picking the kiddos up from school. I pick up my youngest niece (The Diva) first, and everyone at her school knows that Friday is Ti Ti day. Its kind of a big deal.

But this Friday, the kids were home, so I headed over to their house after work. We had lunch. We played with Photobooth on my new computer. And, we did Karaoke. After several hours of this, I headed home. On my way out the door, my youngest niece ran after me. She hugged my legs and said "I just wanted to say 'I love you.'"

After I'd been home for about 45 minutes, my phone rang.

Diva: (sounding a little sad) Hi, Ti Ti.

Me: Hi, my love. What's up?

Diva: You have to come back to my house.

Me: Why baby?

Diva: You forgot something.

Me: I forgot something? (looking around my living room, wondering what I could have forgotten) What did I forget?

Diva: Your phone.

Me.: (laughing) Baby, I didn't forget my phone. I'm talking to you on my phone.

Diva: Oh, well then you left your computer.

Me: Sweet love, I was playing on my computer when you called.

Diva: You forgot my socks.

Me: Your socks? Why do I need your socks? They belong with you, at your house.

Diva: I want them to be at you house.

Bless her little heart. She just wanted her Ti Ti there with her. 

It don't get much better than that!

Fireproof

The movie Fireproof certainly is popular these days. It seems like everyone is talking about it, watching it, doing bible studies based on it, buying the dvd, etc. Tonight, my small group is watching it together. 

I actually rented this movie a month or so ago and watched it, on my sofa...alone. Now, I'm pretty particular, some might say critical, when it comes to movies. If a movie takes itself seriously, pulls out its soap box, thinks it has something to say, well, I expect the movie to say it with no excuses...and not fudge on the actual making of the movie in doing so. I expect actors to be able to act, and act well since I am paying to see them perform "their craft". I expect the writers to provide pleasing, effective, poignant dialogue as opposed to trite and predictable drama club fare. I also expect the movie to feel real, not forced for effect or overdone. I expect to leave entertained, not annoyed...having my thoughts and or emotions provoked, not manipulated.

As I said...I'm particular.

I am particularly particular when it comes to Christian movies. I don't really like the whole ideology of providing christian surrogates for all modern forms of media, or for using movies to mold and shape and influence popular thought, in general. But, if a Christian group is going to produce a movie, I want it to be an excellent one. Typically, though, it is a cheesy one. And, typically, the "message" is seriously diluted. Modern movie makes are not afraid to be in your face about their thoughts on romance, sex, race, prejudice, gender, violence, crime, drugs, parenthood, abuse, religion, or the president, so why should Christians? Why should we soften the message that should be at the heart of what we do? Why should we have to make our messages more palatable? Why should we not say "Jesus" when other movies use His name as a swear word, and use any other word they choose, as often as they choose? Why should we have to turn down the volume? 

I submit that in trying so hard to seem normal and inoffensive, we lose what would make these efforts seem more authentic, more meaningful, more powerful...and decidedly less cheesy.

Some might argue that the budgets aren't there to produce the types of quality movies my particular tastes require. I would say that talent and heart and faithfulness to the message of Christ doesn't have anything to do with money.

Thus endeth my rant.

All that said, though, tonight, my main concern isn't so much the cheese factor as it is my own heart. There is only so much romance a single lady with no prospects can be subjected to, and I have found the need to ration myself pretty severely.  Pray for me.

Finally, a confession...cheesy, movie of the week though it was...I sobbed at the end of Fireproof.  I also cried at the end of High School Musical 3. True story.

Romantic Feelings

Tall.

Rich.

Smooth.

Dee-licious. (swoon)

Beads of sweat glistening under the florescent glow of my office lights. (swoon, again)

I gaze, longingly. My breath catches in my throat. My lips draw nearer, nearer, nearer...to the edge of the cup...and I drink. I love. I am satisfied.

Coffee is the love of my life.

As a single woman in my late 30's, I'll take what I can get. Please don't judge me!

Thank you.

It's not such a small world, afterall

This morning, I got to work about an hour early. A few months ago, this would not have bee n noteworthy, but today, after many months of sleeping "in"...it is. Since I was early, and it is daylight savings time, I made sure I lugged my camera with me as I stepped out of the house into utter darkness this morning (if you can call it that these days) and headed to work. Our building is 4 stories high, and if you are brave enough to venture out on to the 4th floor fire escape, you can get a pretty fair view of the City's skyline. I thought the skyline + sunrise might make a nice shot.

When I arrived at work, though, it was still pretty dark and there was not a ray of sun in sight, so I went to my desk and started my normal morning routine, keeping a keen eye on the window and the soon-to-be approaching sun. As I waited, a few other people filtered in. One was a client who would be travelling to a meeting with some of our guys. As far as I can tell, he is of Indian descent. He stopped to look at a huge sat map of South Louisiana which hangs outside my office and asked one of our guys some questions about it. Hurricane Katrina came up. He didn't really know what our guy was talking about. I had to pick my chin up off of my desk.

He didn't know the levees broke.
He didn't know that 80% of the City (and burbs) flooded.
He didn't know our neighborhood was virtually underwater for weeks.

Weird.

As I grabbed my camera to head up to the dizzying heights of our building, I continued to be puzzled. Katrina was like national news forever. I talk to people regularly who still think the majority of the City is in ruins, but this guy...he had no clue.

Weird.

Then again, I can't tell you the last time a tornado swept through Kanasas, or a monsoon overtook a village in Africa or a mudslide destroyed a part of Mexico. So maybe it isn't such a small world, afterall? Maybe we tend to think our issues are bigger than they actually are? Or maybe this guy's been living under a rock?

I vote for rock. Who's with me?