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I have watched this video of the U.S. swim team lip syncing “Call Me Maybe” several times, and it makes me so happy every time. So, I thought, what else is making me happy? This isn’t my normal train of thought. I tend to be vulnerable and focus on what’s hard, but I’m going to try something new.
The Olympics, in general, are making me happy, although I’m really sad that gymnastics is over.
Knitting is making me happy. My first project of the season is this scarf. By this season, I mean the Fall/Winter/cold months. I’m starting very very early, but its something that makes me feels productive and relaxed at work during down time. Supposedly once school starts, things get crazy around the office.
This precious picture is making me happy. Doesn’t it look like a professional took it?? That would be the work of Gregg and Instagram.
Trying to be Tech-savvy is making me happy. So…what’s making YOU happy?
I love the Olympics. I’m surely not getting enough sleep this week (or next). But, that’s why they invented coffee, right? I’ve basically been crying nonstop ever since the Opening Ceremonies last Friday. Even the commercials are tearjerkers.
Its sappy, its exciting, its sentimental and nostalgic. Love it.
My only complaint is knowing what happens before hand. I LOVE surprises, and its just not as fun to watch a swim meet knowing whose going to win. So, I have to work to not find out what happens. I know that this is very repetitive, and I’m by far not the first one to chime in on “Olympics in the digital age,” but oh well. Chime. Chime. Chime.
Confession: I was a cheerleader. Part of the reason I turned to cheerleading was because I could never get the hang of all the different events in gymnastics. And, I hate chalk. I started gymnastics when I was 6 or 7 with my best friend E. She went on to become a level 10 gymnast (E, correct me if I’m wrong). Level 10 is one level below Elite. And Elite=Olympics. So, she got better and better and I couldn’t even flip myself over the bar. Instead, I tried show choir, tennis, swimming, and I forget what else. I was terrible at all of them (except show choir). And, by seventh grade, I was determined to be good at something, to do something well. After not making the cheerleading squad at my middle school, I took “cheer lessons.” They were more like tumbling classes, and I was determined to learn how to do a backhand spring. For those of you that don’t know, on tumbling passes, you start off with a round-off, then you do a backhand spring afterwards to continue to move across the floor. In the Olympics, the roundoff-backhand spring combo is the starting point for all of the other flips and twists that come next. But, for me, my goal was the elusive backhand spring. Learning how to tumble would give me a leg up for cheerleading tryouts the following year.
After a year of hard work and weekly classes, I learned how to do a backhand spring. And, for better or worse, I was a cheerleader in 8th grade and all through high school. The Olympics is making me reminisce about my pseudo-athletic days. I feel strangely connected to these world class gymnasts for no reason except that I grew up wanting to be like them but couldn’t quite get there. Instead, I learned how to to something else that remotely resembled gymnastics and didn’t have chalk.
I cried when he told me that he was going to boot camp, I really cried when he told me that he was going to be deployed, and I cried when he came home. He’s home!
He’s always wanted to be a soldier, ever since he was a little boy. I think every little boy goes through that obsession with guns and camo. That makes it hard for us, the softer, feminine gender. We don’t get it.
If the not getting it is hard. The not knowing is even harder. As in, what are you doing over there? Are you safe?
He sacrificed, as they say. Time away from family and friends and comforts. But so did his wife (big time) and so did my mom and the rest of my family. 9 months, he was gone. But, he’s back. Woo Hoo! And just in time for the Olympics.
Step One: Invite someone else to be in the Book Club.
I think, by definition, a club has to have at least two and probably more like three to four people to be considered a club. That said, I sent a text to a semi-friend asking her if she would be interested in joining a book club. I also asked her if she knew anyone else that would want to be a part of a book club (the whole thing about a club needing more than one or two people came into play here).
Step Two: Wait for a response.
She said yes! I only had to wait 24 hours, but I was kinda nervous, imagining her reading the text and trying to figure out how she could get out of the invite. But. now, my confidence is up, so I can go to Steps 3, 4, & 5.
Step Three: Invite more people.
Step Four: Pick where and when we want to meet.
Step Five: Start getting to know each other and pick a book that everyone will love and be excited to talk about.
If we’re doing a repeat, like, let’s all pick a book that you like/that you’ve read before/that would be a good Book Club book, I’d suggest…
or the classic
But, if we’re going to branch out and make suggestions for books we’ve wanted to read but hadn’t gotten to yet. I’d say…
I had to wait until I finished Harry Potter before initiating this Club.
Any book suggestions?