Bible Study.

I know, two blogs in ONE day--you lucky, lucky people!

Anyway, I am going to participate in an online Bible study through a blog I have been following, Raising Redheads. I am SUPER excited about it, mainly because we will be going at a nice, slow pace--which is great for a beginner like me! We will be studying only two lines of scripture each day using the S.O.A.P method: Scripture-we write down the day's scripture in our journal; Observation-we write down what the scripture means/its significance; Application-we apply it to daily life, and then we end with a Prayer!

I can't wait to begin familiarizing myself with the scriptures. It's something I've been wanting to do for some time now, but I just didn't know how. And the best part? Thanks to this journal-style studying, I'll always be able to look back to where I began in this spiritual journey and see how much I've grown!

Ow, My Wrist and Other Adventures at the ER

You've all heard that I broke my wrist this past Tuesday. Here is the tragic story:

I was on my way to the "El" when I slipped. You know how some sidewalks are elevated and have a super steep ramp thing to the street? Well that is what I slipped on. Just two blocks from my apartment. Because it was covered in...BLACK ICE! No one had salted. No one had sanded. And I went down like a sack of potatoes. Cartoon-style. You know, flailing arms, feet flying and face appropriately set into a mixture of surprise and horror.

Suddenly sitting on my butt with my legs in the street, I had initially thought that the only thing hurt was my pride. By the time I stood up and crossed the street (ever so carefully!), I was covered in sweat and felt like I was going to vomit. That's when I knew that I was hurt.

I called Bart, who was about to take a test, to tell him the news. He wanted me to try and get to work/school so I could have it looked at by the M.D. at the clinic and so he could see me after his test. Neither of us knew how hurt I was since nothing was swollen at that point. Anyway, I got on the train--standing room only--annnnd started to pass out from the pain. A very nice man saw me start to get wobbly and gave me his seat. This was about the time I figured that I couldn't make it to work and that I was going to have to get to a hospital.

A very nice cab driver got me to the ER super fast, which was good since I was trying not to cry from the pain. The triage nurse right away had to help me pull my engagement and wedding rings off because the swelling in my wrist and fingers was getting so bad. Talk about painful!! After that, I found a seat in the waiting area where I made friends with a crying girl who had her arm in a sling and with a lady in a wheelchair whose kneecap skin was hanging onto her leg by a string. They, too, were victims of the black ice.

In the next two hours, I had x-rays taken and was processed. I finally got a sling and an ice pack (which did nothing to help with the pain) and I watched the waiting room fill up with people clutching body parts and/or limping up to the counter. A middle aged woman sat across from me and just sobbed and sobbed while holding her wrist. The lady next to her had fallen and broken her shoulder. Cab after cab came to the doors dropping off injured people who had fallen on the ice.

FINALLY, I was taken up to a bed (along with kneecap skin lady), was given a Vicodin, and had more tests done. I had an EKG because I had fainted. Since my heart looked normal, they decided that I should take a pregnancy test, you know, just in case. Well. That was just going to be the cherry on top of a really fantastic day. So, I peed in the cup, handed it over to Barb, my nurse, and waited. And waited. AND. WAITED. At this point, I had almost completely forgotten about my wrist because I was certain I was pregnant and the nurse was waiting for Bart to arrive before she told me. Folks, I don't know the last time I prayed so hard.

And God must have heard my fervent prayers, because an hour later, another nurse asked my nurse, Barb, if I had taken the test. Then she said the four most beautiful words I heard that day: "Yup. It was negative." Phew! Barb wrapped up my wrist and hand (all the way to the elbow) in cotton, molded a plaster splint to my wrist, and then wrapped me all up in ACE bandages, after which I went to sleep. Then Bart, having missed alllllll the excitement, finally arrived and brought me home and put me to bed. Let this be a lesson to you all to WALK CAREFULLY.

I got my first blog award from a very talented blogger, Stacy at Life as I see it. What an honor!

I'm supposed to pass this award on to 15 other bloggers that I enjoy. I don't really follow too many personal blogs, but I'll see what I can do! I'm also supposed to write seven (hopefully interesting) facts about myself. Here goes!

1. I love pickles. And I mean LOVE with a capital L. I eat them nearly every day and even drink the juice. In fact, I'm eating pickles right now! Anyway, I can't help myself. I eat them along with pretzels, saltine crackers and popcorn. It makes me wonder what kinds of food combinations I'll eat when I'm pregnant. Ha!

2. I still sleep with my stuffed animal (and blankie). Every. Single. Night. His name is Stuffins and he probably my second most prized possession. I would never give him up for anything, even though I know it's super childish to still need him. But I'm lucky Bart is willing to share our bed!

3. I have a (hopefully not weird) fascination with pregnant women. They all look so beautiful with their big bellies/little bumps! It's the most amazing thing that a woman's body can grow another life inside of it, right under her heart! We won't even get into how excited and anxious I am to be pregnant and become a mom (A LOT)!

4. I require a lot of sleep to be able to function. I need at least 9 hours every night, and, honestly, life would be grand if I could catch a nap at around 2 every afternoon.

5. I'm not a huge fan of candy. I really only eat it when I'm on my period. I think I don't care for it too much because I have always preferred salty/savory foods.

6. I have monkey toes. Literally. And I can't believe I'm admitting this. I can spread them out like the fingers on my hand. And I can use them to pick up a dime off of a wood floor. Gross, I know.

7. Every night, I watch at least one episode of either Everybody Loves Raymond or The Golden Girls. My two favorite shows, EVER.

And--here are the blogs I wish to award!

My Soul Sings

The Sphors Are Multiplying

A Little Bit of Sunshine

...Told you the list would be short! The other blogs I follow are all great, but I don't know the bloggers personally. And they don't follow my blog, so they wouldn't know that they'd been awarded anyway. I do, however, recommend each one!

Home Alone--Chicago Style!

Tonight marks the first time Bart and I have been apart since we got married. It's also the first time I've had to be alone in this apartment--yikes! Bart had to go to an American Optometry Student Association Board meeting in St. Louis since he's is the Trustee for his school. I can't tell you how much I miss him and how frightened I am to be left alone here.

All I can think about is the crime rate in the city. I used to feel safe since we live on the third floor (who wants to climb five flights of stairs to rob someone, anyway??), but a co-worker, who also lives on the third floor of her building, told me that she was robbed twice!. And you know what? I don't even have a bat or a golf club here to defend myself with. It looks like I'm going to have to sleep with my biggest kitchen knife next to my bed for a little comfort. Wouldn't it be nice if I was creative enough to come up with do-it-yourself bad-guy catcher stuff like Macaulay Caulkin? Sadly, we've put all our ornaments away and I don't own matchbox cars.

On the other hand, though, I think it will be really great for us to have some time apart. Like I said in an earlier blog, Bart and I have been spending waaaay too much time together. I mean, I love being with the guy, but it is so hard not to get on each others nerves when we are together constantly. So tonight when I got out of work, I came home, changed, and went to the grocery store to get some junk food (which I'll regret come Sunday...) and TWO DVD's from the redbox!! And there is Period (like time period, people) movie marathon on Ovation this weekend, which I will be watching in full with zero grumbling from my darling husband! I'm a wild woman, I know.

My Mother's Necklace

A friend, in her blog, recently wrote about her most treasured possession. Her story was lovely, as were the items she chose. Ever since reading that post, I can't stop thinking about my most treasured item: my mother's Immaculate medal.


This is a necklace that I wear every day. I never take it off. It has hung around my neck almost since the night my mom breathed her very last breath. I wear it because every time I feel it brush against my skin, I think of her. Every time I grab hold of it, I think of how I used to trace it's circular shape when she wore it. It is the closest thing I have to having her with me.

The necklace was always our special thing. I remember the day it arrived. She was so excited and it looked so beautiful shining on her neck. The gold chain glittered, as did the cut rim around it. The Virgin Mary was so very tiny, yet so detailed that you could see the benevolent smile on her little face. I memorized the prayer written ever so small in the halo around her: O Mary conceived without sin pray for us who have recourse to thee. I would breathe in the scent of Mom's perfume while I stroked the gold chain and laid my head on her shoulder. Of course, since she loved it so much, I did, too. I would constantly nag her to let me wear it to school or when we went out as a family. She nearly always let me and it always made me feel so special to be able to wear something so fancy. It's selfish, but I always loved that she never let Traci wear it--only me.

Now, I am going to make a confession. Something I never told anyone about because I was too ashamed. When she was sick, she couldn't wear the necklace anymore. And I took it from her jewelry drawer. I wore it to a family friend's house when I was babysitting their kids. I took it off to go swimming, you know, to keep it safe. And I lost it. It could have gone anywhere. The kids were little, one could have grabbed it and thrown it in the toilet, garbage or grass. It could have fallen into the pool and been sucked up by the filter. And the worst part? I couldn't remember where exactly I had put it! There are no words to describe the terror and heartbreak I felt. And how could I tell?

I know it sounds crazy, but I found it just after she died. In the bag that I brought with me that day I went babysitting. In the little attached change purse. The one that I had already searched a million times before. A place I knew I hadn't put the necklace. But there it was. That day, I put it on, and it has left my neck only a handful of times since.

I wore it the day I graduated from high school. The day I found out I got into college. I was wearing it the day that Bart proposed to be on that little beach at the Cape and I wore it on the day of our wedding. It's silly, but it is like she's been there with me through each moment. I didn't even cry for her on my wedding day because I didn't feel like she was missing. All I felt was sublime happiness.


Now, when I look at my mother's necklace, I don't think it's as fancy as I thought it was when I was small. It is simple and beautiful, very elegant. Just like my mom.

Plague.

So I'm sick. Not just the "I don't feel well" kind of sick. I'm talking about the whole-body-hurts-plugged-head-raging-fever-sore-throat-up-all-night-blowing-your-nose-and-coughing kind of sick. I really think it's a combo of the flu and a sinus infection, so you can imagine how last night I was praying for God to just take me so I could get some sweet relief.

Anyone who knows me knows that I HATE to be legitimately sick. I do, however, like to feel kind of yucky so that Bart can baby me and I can drink ginger ale and eat pickles all day. But to be really sick? I'll pass every time. There is nothing worse than having a head so stuffy that you can't think straight or lay down flat.

BUT...I must say that I still love the babying I get from Bart! Last night when I got home from work (on my day off by the way--but that's a whole different story) Bart made us dinner and then we watched the Green Mile. All day today he has been bringing me drinks, medicine, and anything else I want. It does make being sick just a little bit more bearable!

Alone.

Sometimes the loneliness I feel here is more than I can bear. I have my Bart, but there is no one else I can really talk to or do things with. It can be so hard. It's one of the reasons why I'm so thrilled to be moving back home in May. I can be around people I have known my whole life--friends I'm missing and family, mainly. And it will be good to be in the country again. City life just doesn't agree with me. Or maybe it's this city that doesn't agree with me.

It will be so nice to have plans again. Plans that don't include Bart and his friends. I love being with my husband, but sometimes a girl needs to get out and be with her girlfriends, you know? Bart and I can get so short with each other because we spend practically all of our free time together. We were never a couple who wanted to spend every waking moment in each other's company because we tend to, after a while, get on each other's nerves. But, I don't want to be left here alone all the time while Bart goes out and has fun with his friends, and Bart feels bad leaving me by myself and is torn between going out and staying home. It's just a stinky situation.

I get so moody being stuck here in this apartment. You might think it is super easy to get around this city, because, you know, I'm sitting right in the middle of it, but it's not true. The blistering, blinding wind/cold are enough to keep anyone indoors. It doesn't help that, since we don't have a car, we have to stand in the cold wind to wait for any kind of transportation to take us from A to B. And when I do get out, it is usually to the grocery store (NOT my favorite place). If I go to a store where I actually want to shop, Bart is with me and he hates shopping in general almost as much as I had grocery shopping. He usually ends up at a cafe or bookstore to hang around while I shop alone. It's sad. I feel like I don't have anyone to really enjoy things with. Well, not the girl things, anyway.

It's so hard to be removed from everything you know and take comfort from to be in a place you don't like.