"The cat bit my toe!"

I can't seem to convince my husband that the cad did NOT bite his toe during his sleep. Here's the thing - when Trevor woke up yesterday morning to let the dogs out, both cats were outside, patiently waiting by the back door to be let inside. Nonetheless, Trevor sincerely believes that one of the cats bit his toe in the middle of the night, and he believes he has the bitemark to prove it. Let me replay our conversation last night for you...

Trevor: The cat bit my toe last night.

Sara: Trevor, that's impossible. Both of the cats were outside last night.

Trevor: No, the cat bit my toe. I swear, the cats were in bed with you when you went to bed.

Sara: Trevor, are you implying that one of us woke up in the middle of the night and let the cats outside, and yet neither one of us remembers doing that?

Trevor: I don't know.

Sara: Baby, the cat didn't bite your toe. There were no cats in our bed last night.

Trevor: The cat bit my toe! I have the bitemark to prove it! (Trevor pulls off his sock and points to a red bump on his large toe.)

Sara: (Looks closely at the red bump...) Sweetheart, that's a bug bite. The cat did not bite your toe.

Trevor: The cat bit my toe.

So, despite all of the evidence, my cat (and I am pretty sure he is blaming Olive) bit Trevor's toe. Just comes to show you that when you need for someting to be true, it becomes true. But I will have the last word on this one...The freakin' cat did NOT bite your toe!

Surprise!!!

Somebody ticked off God today. Take a look at the size of this hail...This picture doesn't do it justice, but believe me when I tell you, it was FREAKIN' BIG!!!

The skies opened up as I was driving home from work today,  and I must say, I was a bit caught off guard. As I pulled onto my street, the kids who live across the street from us were outside trying to catch the hail using their baggy sweatshirts as hail catchers. I, on the other hand, opened my mouth to try and catch some. I wonder how many calories that was???

But the surprises didn't stop there. When I opened our front door and walked inside, look what I found waiting for me:

A bouquet of tulips, a pack of Big Red, and a love note! And the best part is, Trevor did this JUST BECAUSE!!! Unbelievable! 

I love good surprises!

What would my "Last Lecture" be?

It's time to get real with myself. I have been in a funk lately, and I can't seem to snap out of it. If I'm really honest, I've been throwing myself a Pity Party and in order to ensure that I remain the guest of honor, I have refused to send all of those annoying party guests (i.e. really bad thoughts) back home.


Up until today, I thought I had some real problems. You know, "problems" like a double-chin and a fatty belly. "Problems" like a close friend consciously choosing to cut me out of her life."Problems" like the inability to convince a coworker that I am not less valuable than him just because I've put in less years of teaching. "Problems" like seeing a picture of a former student on the front page of the local newspaper for dealing drugs and feeling like I could have done so much more for him. "Problems" like desperately trying to get pregnant, only to be disappointed time and time again, and worst of all, not being able to convince myself that it's not my fault.


And then today I finished reading Randy Pausch's novel "The Last Lecture," and I realized I don't have real problems. In fact, my only real problem is my attitude, and my attitude needs a swift kick in the ass.


Randy Pausch passed away last year from pancreatic cancer, leaving behind his wife and three small children. Randy - a computer science professor - had several months to prepare for his inevitable death and was most distraught over the fact that his oldest child would remember very little about him while his two youngest children would remember nothing. And so Randy was faced with a dilemna - HOW do I leave behind for my children WHAT I want them most to remember about me after I am gone. Enter in, literally, his last lecture (which was videotaped for his children) at Carnegie Mellon University, and which has been turned into a national best-selling novel.

I now find myself pondering, what would my last lecture be if I knew I had only months to live. In short, here are the top five lessons I have learned in my life that I would want those I love to remember me by:

#1 - Dogs may be a man's best friend, but cats are a woman's. They just get IT, man! Don't tell me what to do, just feed me, pet me, let me sleeep, and tell me I'm pretty. Done.

#2 - Love doesn't come waltzing in on a white horse. It doesn't ask you to leave your life behind, or to sacrifice bits of your soul, and it sure as hell doesn't make you feel like you've just been saved. Real love saunters in slowly, subtly, and humbly. Real love demands only one thing - be you, ALL of you.

#3 - Sometimes you think you really know someone, and then one day you discover you really don't. These people are part of the universe's grand plan to teach you something you need to know about yourself in order to survive the rest of your life. Love these people while you have them, and when they're gone, say "Thank you." Thank you for making me better, and thank you for going away.

#4 - On the flipside, sometimes you think you really know someone, and then you find out that you really do. These people are also part of the universe's grand plan to give you EXACTLY what you need - validation. (i.e. Thank you Trevor, mom, Lisa, Mark, Ana, David, Dianna, Melanie, Tony, Alissa, Bonnie, Katy, Megan, Chris, Erica, Angela, Des, Bethany, Luke, Clutch, and I know I am forgetting people but my mind has drawn a blank...)

#5 - Ice cream makes everything better. Got dumped? Eat ice cream. Got screwed? Eat ice cream. Got stabbed in the back? Eat ice cream. Got laid off from work? Eat ice cream. Feeling fat? Well then, eat ice cream. I highly recommend a cookie dough/peanut butter cup Blizzard or a hot fudge sundae made with chocolate chip mint and peanut butter chocolate ice cream - extra whip cream, lots of nuts, but hold the cherry.

Thank you, Randy Pausch, for the swift kick in the ass.

The Pity Party is over, and I have you to thank for it.

Good times in P-Town!

There are some friends in life that no matter how long it has been since you last saw them, you literally just pick up right where you left off. With Bethany, it has always been this way. This picture, taken this past weekend, proves it. And no, I don't know what we're doing.

Bethany and I met in '97 when we lived in the same residence hall together - she was an R.A. and I was a wannabe R.A., and thus my admiration of her began. You see, Bethany has always been the kind of woman I wish I could be more like. In other words, she kicks ass at pretty much everything she does. She is a Doctorate-toting, picture-taking, motorcyle riding, sky diving, snow boarding, surfing triathelete who never lets fear dictate her life. Most importantly, she is probably the most optimistic person I know, and often self-elects herself to be other people's personal cheerleader. In short, I love her, and with that being said, being able to spend this last weekend made me realize how much I miss her. We ate, we drank, we skiied (some better than others), and we laughed our asses off.

Here we are on the way up to Mt. Hood...

Here is the mountain in all its glory...

And here Trevor and I are, moments after I fell TWICE down the moutain, and moments before I decided that maybe strapping two pieces of wood to the bottom of my feet and flinging myself down a mountain going 40 mph just may not be my cup of tea.

Thank you, Bethany, for the fantastic weekend and for always being one of my personal cheerleaders. I love you and miss you already.