Totally Worth It

Can I just brag for one minute about how awesome Matt is?

Last week, he came home with tickets to see David Sedaris. Some of you might be rolling your eyes and thinking how white of you, while others might be wondering why we would pay money to hear someone read. But it was absolutely worth it. Sitting on the back row in the sold out concert hall, Matt and I laughed the entire two hours. He read stuff written just for the tour, stuff that didn’t make it in his book, and a few articles recently published. If Mr. Sedaris is ever in your neck of the woods, GO. No, seriously. GO.

Matt also loves Sedaris, so it was a treat for him, too. But he loves the Portland Trailblazers more, and their first home game was the same night. Matt’s office has season tickets, so he gets to go just about whenever he wants. He could have gone to the Blazers’ game, but he took me to Sedaris instead. That is why he is so very awesome.

Oh, but don’t worry. We still made it to a bar in time to catch the 4th quarter. I think they even won.

What Comes Next

Every other Tuesday morning, I attend a women’s bible study at church. We spend a good portion of our time in small groups, talking and praying. It has been so good for my soul to be around other women, women who love Jesus with me, who are bolder when they pray than I ever think to be, and who are flawed but honest about it.

Mary’s youngest son is in my preschool class on Sundays. Our conversations are always brief when she drops off her son, but I’ve finally gotten to know her through our morning bible study. And that woman loves Jesus and people in big ways.

At our last bible study, Mary shared some challenges about motherhood. I shared about this waiting period I feel I’m stuck in – after getting laid off, and then not getting rehired, I’m pretty interested to figure out what’s next. When it came time to pray, Mary caught my attention as she prayed God, give Nicole a teaching job. Just like that. Her words made me sit up and watch her as she just kept praying.

I thought it was a nice gesture on her part, but it certainly took me by surprise. I didn’t ask for prayer. I thought I made it clear I was done with teaching – that I don’t even look for teaching jobs anymore. I’ve finally reached some level of contentment as a substitute, and I’m getting pretty good at being a part-time housewife. So it was kind of Mary to pray for a job but not necessary.

The next afternoon I got a phone call from my old school. A position opened up, and they wanted to interview me. I went, and my vice-principal and I had a casual conversation because he said he didn’t really need to interview me since, you know, I’ve worked there before and all. And the next day, my old school officially offered me another job. I took it, and then I cried as I called Matt and then my mom.

I cried because I could have never imagined this happening. I cried because I thought I had finally moved on. I cried for my tender ego, for my huge lump of pride. I cried because I had just finished Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. And the most shallow, honest reason of them all? I cried because I felt like the school’s bitch – hey, we need a teacher! Call up that one girl! She’ll always come back!

But let me set the record straight: I AIN’T NO HOLLABACK GIRL.

Except for this one time.

It’s now been over a week since I accepted the job, and each day I get a little bit more excited. Frankly, subbing is stupid. And I miss teaching; I miss the relationships. As much as I wanted to convince myself I didn’t want to teach anymore, I knew that was a super big, super fat lie.

I don’t claim to understand prayer, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t get this job JUST because Mary prayed for me. My journal is filled with my own questions and heartaches and surrendering this WHOLE OBNOXIOUS THING. But I also believe Mary is no coincidence, either.

What I really believe? I’m not sure. But I trust a God who knows better than I do, and, thankfully, has shown me what’s next.

Why Hello...

Amber did this little survey thing and called me out to join her. And because she is a wise woman, I’m going to do it. Also, today is her oldest son’s 4th birthday and I love him so, so much. On one of the worst days of the year for me, sweet Isaac told me I was the best woman ever. BEST COMPLIMENT EVER EVER. So happy birthday, Ike!

Anyhoo, I haven’t been blogging much because I haven’t felt like writing much. So here’s a list of 7 things that I would have posted earlier if I had been in the mood.

1. The other night I was flipping through a magazine and smelled something delicious. It was a perfume sample for Armani Code. I ripped it out and handed it to Matt (hint, hint). He loved it, too, and jumped up and wiped it on my neck. I squealed out, “Stop! Stop!” and he confusedly did. I told him I needed to wear it tomorrow to test it out, and he thought this was hilarious. Is this odd behavior on my part? I never buy a perfume without test-wearing it first. Have I been wrong all these years with the perfume ads? Have I just totally admitted an embarrassing secret? Laugh all you want, I SMELL DAMN GOOD FOR FREE.

2. I think I might know where I got this idea, though. I received my first gift from a boy (I think his name was Dusty) in kindergarten. He walked up to me on the bus and said he wanted me to have it: a perfume ad sample from a magazine. Swoon.

3. And since I’ve already given you one great way to cut back costs in this tough economy, here’s another one. Now that it’s fall, I really want some new clothes. But we’ve got other expenses like plane tickets for the holidays to buy, so a shopping trip isn’t really a wise thing for me to do right now. I have bought a couple sweaters here and there, and I still like my clothes, so there’s no need for me to complain. PLUS, as a substitute, I go to different schools every day. And since I’m not a sweaty or messy person, I totally wear my outfit again the next day. Nobody knows! Except for you all, shhhh. The real reason I do this, though, is to save myself the ten minutes I spend in front of my closet tapping my chin wondering what to wear, what to wear.

4. But back to subbing. An awful thing happened the other day. I was subbing for a middle school reading teacher, and on the board in the teacher’s handwriting was this:
The less you talk, the more your listened too.
Oh. Hell. No. It bugged me all day long, but I finally worked up the courage to fix the mistakes at the end of the day. I did it for the kids, really. But then I stayed up late thinking about how that teacher probably hates me now.

5. I couldn’t fall asleep Sunday night, either, because I was thinking about something I might’ve done at church that morning. Every other week when I do the bills, I always write our offering check and slide it in my checkbook for church. When it’s time for the offering, I pull it out and briefly look at it to make sure everything’s correct. It’s just a little OCD thing I do. This past Sunday, though, Matt took it from me before I checked it and threw it in the basket. Immediately, I wanted to grab it out and look, but that’s not really acceptable. So I let it be. And then that night it dawned on me that I had also written a check to Katy that I hadn’t given her yet. That in the memo line I had jokingly written HOT LOVE. I panicked in bed until I finally got up to check. Thankfully, my church received the correct one. Katy, your check for HOT LOVE is in the mail.

6. Matt and I tried to nail down our favorite beers the other day, so here’s what I’ve got. Top Five Beers in no particular order, subject to change at any time:
* Broken Halo IPA
* Bridgeport Haymaker
*Full Sail Session
* Widmer or Pyramid Hefeweizen
* Mcmenamin’s Hammerhead or IPA

7. We’re going to Houston for Thanksgiving. We’re going to Arkansas for Christmas. I’m happy about these things.

A Few Unconnected Thoughts

Whenever Matt and I are faced with a predicament, my response is almost always "We just need to go back in time!" And Matt follows up with "I'll go get the crystals." It doesn't really help the situation, but it does make me laugh. So as Matt and I were watching the news, I realized the solution to our so-called economic disaster: GO BACK IN TIME. We could fix some things gone wrong, and then everything would be just fine. TRUST ME. I majored in English.

And to completely change the subject, our very good friends, Bryan and Laura, got married this weekend. They had a perfect wedding at one of our favorite wineries, one that we often visit together, and Matt and I got to be part of the whole thing. So special!

Matt and I in our bridesmaid/ groomsman get-up. Isn't the winery gorgeous?! Matt and I want to buy it. You know, with all that money we have.

The beautiful bride! I love these ladies!

And here's my biggest regret from the weekend: not getting a good picture of Matt and me with Bryan and Laura. I know Laura wouldn't mind putting her dress back on (which bride wouldn't?), but unfortunately the tuxes have been returned.

I know! I'll go back in time!

Celebrating with a Hurricane

Today is my mama and daddy's 27th wedding anniversary! I am so thankful for two parents who love and support me, but who also love and support each other.

Aren't they the cutest? They're basically my favorite parents ever, and I just wanted to let everyone know.

P.S. Ike! Back off! It's my parent's anniversary.

First Day on the Job

When I took a subbing job today, it said it was for a middle school Language Arts teacher. When I showed up, my schedule included 3 keyboarding classes and a PE class.

I don’t do PE.

I was wearing my Rachel Green dress with heels. Below is what my dress looked like, except it went to my knees – I’m not THAT teacher.


Most teachers are very casual, but since I look about 18 on a good day, I try to compensate by always dressing up. My motto: I’d rather be overdressed than underdressed. I think more people should make that their motto, too. Just sayin’.

So there I stood in the gym with my dress and heels taking attendance. But this was not the first time I found myself in this situation; last time it happened, I was wearing a pencil skirt and heels. I guess it stands to reason that no matter how old I get, I will NEVER feel comfortable in a PE class.

The students today were to practice throwing a football using the right techniques. Right techniques? Like don’t hit anybody in the face? That’s about as technical as my football-throwing knowledge gets. But on the lesson plan that the teacher left, she said for me to “demonstrate throwing a football for the students to see.”

OH HELL NO.

I don’t throw footballs. I CAN’T throw footballs. And doesn’t it seem a bit unfair that she would assume I could? What if I was a handless substitute? Or someone who is unable to do anything athletic? I’m good at bocce ball, and that’s about it.

So I found two boys who demonstrated for the class. And this is what I learned: opposite foot forward, fingertips on the spiral, hand near the back of the ball. Piece of cake.

And what did I add? Don’t hit me in the face.

Being Sandy

Last week I had a couple of bad days dealing with life changes, unemployment, and impatience. There’s a lot of emotion running through me, and I’m trying really hard not to fall into The Funk. Matt is also trying to keep me from The Funk, and he kindly offered to do anything for me. So last night we watched Grease together.

Now, if I do say so myself, I have pretty good taste in movies. I know Grease isn’t exactly a movie you add to your list of favorites on Facebook, but it’s my weak spot. I can’t help it, the awful lines and the cheesy songs and the silly dance moves get to me every single time.

We watched the movie, and I sang along the whole time. My favorite part is the moment Sandy appears at the carnival and says, “Tell me about it, stud” in that breathy voice she uses. As soon as she says that, my heart gets all jittery and I’m suddenly overcome with the idea that I too want to be an actress, need to be an actress. Strangely, it only happens when I watch Grease.

I turned to Matt and said, “The little girl in me is about to run and make some very important phone calls.”

“What??”

“To find an agent.”

When I was around nine or ten, I used to sneak into my dad’s office after watching Grease and make a few phone calls on his business line, as if that made the whole thing more serious. The big yellow phone book was open to A, and with my heart racing, I’d pick a few that sounded promising and start dialing. I didn’t quite know how to go about all this, but I knew that I had to become an actress ASAP. After someone picked up, I always started out with “I’d like to be an actress.”

“Okay, why don’t you send us your headshot?”

“Great! Where do I get those?”

“Well, we can refer a few places for you.”

“Okay, and about how much does that cost?”

“On average, around $1,000.”

This is when I would abruptly hang up. I did this four different times, until I finally decided I didn’t care to be an actress; I just wanted big hair, black spandex, red heals, and some sass - I wanted to be Sandy.


Coincidentally, my babysitter gave me a few hand-me-down unitards from jazzercise, and I would push the sleeves down and walk around the house in my mom’s shoes. It satisfied the craving to be an actress. Last night, though, when Sandy walked out all I could think was WHERE’S MY UNITARD, I NEED IT NOW.

AND OH YEAH, CURL MY HAIR MATT. YOU SAID YOU’D DO ANYTHING FOR ME.