friday confessions

In honor of Halloween...

Confession: I have really irrational fears.

Don't we all? I've blogged in the past about a few things that really scare me. And apart from my fear of hopping amphibians and glowing red eyes, I would say most of them are pretty legit.

Except for the one I left off the list.



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Horrifying, right? Horrifyingly cute, maybe. What's wrong with me?


Yep, that's a giraffe.

Ok, so maybe not giraffes persae; but giraffes outside of their natural habitat or zoo.

Scene: You're driving along at night, you're in the middle of nowhere, and suddenly a frickin' giraffe just walks across the road. A dark silhouette of this billion-foot-tall animal just menacingly moseying along...Seriously, how creepy would that be?!?! (Anyone? No? Just me?)

Not that this has ever happened to me in real life. But a few weekends ago, I came close.



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Scene: Kyle and I are headed up north on US-131 late at night. It's pitch black and pouring rain. These guys are hanging out on the side of the road...and they're BIG. No signs, no warning. They're just there. It was horrifying. (To me, anyway. Kyle didn't even see it...which only made me question my sanity.)

When we got home, I did a bit of sleuthing to confirm that I wasn't going crazy. Because I didn't see any signs near the giant giraffe, and I wasn't even entirely sure where we were, I just Googled "giant giraffe us 131 michigan." And what do you know? These things are actually part of something even creepier than a wayward giraffes.

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Um, yikes. I couldn't find very a lot of information on Robinson's Scenic Gardens, but this blogger at Roadside Curiosities actually went there and took these pictures. Check out the rest of them good ol' fashioned goosebumps raising. 

So creepy.

Is it bad that I want to go? I need to take a picture with that giraffe.

Happy Friday, friends.

friday confessions

Confession: I knew that I was going to marry Kyle from the moment I met him.

True story.

I know this sounds cheesy, cliche, far-fetched, etc., etc.; but it is totally and completely, 100% true. Seriously.

Allow me to explain...

Back in the spring of 2007, I was a freshman in college. My friends and I went to see a production of The Rocky Horror Show on campus. I was inexplicably drawn to the actor playing Eddie. Returning home shortly thereafter for summer break, this stranger crossed my mind occasionally. There was just something about him.



Kyle as Eddie in The Rocky Horror Show
GVSU: Spring 2007

Fall 2007. My roommate at the time was in a play with "that guy who played Eddie in Rocky last semester." She thought we'd get along, so she invited him over to our apartment one Saturday night to watch Phantom of the Opera, one of his favorite movies.

From the moment he walked through the door of our apartment, I knew that my life would never be the same.



Silly pictures the night we met
GVSU: Fall 2007

As soon as our eyes met, I knew that he was the man I was going to marry. I can remember everything about that moment. What I was wearing, what he was wearing, the smell of campus housing, his unkempt beard and long hair. (He was in a play set during the Civil War.)

I don't know how I knew, I just...knew. (And have never been more certain of anything in my life.)

We spent the evening hanging out with my roommates. We talked a bit. Discussed shared interests and mutual friends. Mostly just hung out as part of a group. I was nervous. You don't just tell someone you just met that you're going to marry them.

Over the course of the next few weeks, we talked a bit more. Watched movies together. Flirted. Held hands. Nothing out of the ordinary, and yet everything felt extraordinary. On his 21st birthday, he asked me to be his girlfriend.

October 7th.

Two years from the day that this picture was taken, Kyle asked me to marry him, on the stage where we had first "met."



A picture from the early days--celebrating Jeff's birthday
Main Street Pub: Winter 2008

The proposal
GVSU: Winter 2010

We've been together for four years today, and we celebrated our two month wedding anniversary yesterday. I'm so glad he walked into my apartment and into my life that chilly fall evening. And now, I'm so honored to be his wife.

 



Our first dance as Mr. & Mrs.
St. Cecilia's, GR: August 6, 2011

Happy 25th, Kyle---To the man who always supports all of my harebrained ideas, watches the same X-Files episodes with me on repeat without complaint, and who embraces all of my many quirks---I'm so glad to be sharing this grand adventure with you.

Happy Friday, friends.

friday confessions

 Confession: I want to enter ArtPrize.

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Did you see this coming? I gush about ArtPrize basically 24/7 to anyone who will listen, so it's only natural that I should dream of entering it myself.

Seems plausible, right? Except for one minor detail. I'm not an artist. At all.

I'm creative (ish) and can (usually) visualize how I want something to look; problems (always) arise with the execution. Whenever I attempt something artistic, the final product never matches what I pictured. Talk about frustration. I'm not sure where the disconnect is, but it's maddening.

Around this time last year, I was struck with a Big Idea. You know the kind. This Big Idea was a concept for an ArtPrize entry. And it's seriously a good one. The concept is simple yet meaningful; it encapsulates my love for the people and city of Grand Rapids. It would be a fairly simple project, just time-consuming. (And may or may not involve Polaroid film, which is difficult to come by.) But if done correctly, it would have the potential to really make a statement.

Fun fact: I actually started this blog last year to document the evolution of said Big Idea. I alluded to it waaay back in my first-ever post. As you may have noticed, things haven't quite gone according to that plan.

I just don't have the confidence to take the leap. The scale of ArtPrize is so intimidating. Artists, real artists, from all over the world enter. Real artists with real talent. I'd be afraid that my "art" would look like a stick figure next to the Mona Lisa.

But then again, who knows unless you try? Right?

And there it is: a secret I haven't told anyone except for my husband and my parents. Maybe setting the idea free into the universe will give me the courage to take the plunge. Maybe?

Thanks for listening. Happy Friday, friends.

friday confessions

It's baaack...

Confession: I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.

((Confession II: I'm totally about to pull a George Costanza here.))

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Sometimes, I feel like I come across a bit flighty because I'm always changing the direction of my career-related goals. To be fair, I've always been this way. My interests change constantly; ebb and flow...As a child, my career aspirations ranged from teacher to journalist, author to actress, archeologist to the person who draws the lottery numbers. Bouncing daily from one potential career to another is every much a part of the average childhood as Saturday morning cartoons; but doing it as a twentysomething college graduate just makes me feel like a flibbertigibbet.

Case in point...

Careers I'm Currently Contemplating:

+ Cafe owner

+ Elder advocate

+ Children's book author

+ Apron maker and seller on Etsy

+ Dog walker

+ Copy editor

+ Beekeeper

+ ____________ expert (I haven't decided on what yet.)

I sometimes envy the people who have always known what they want to do with their lives. Take Kyle for instance. From the time he was in middle school, he knew he wanted to be an actor. He's talented. He's a hard worker. He went to college, got a degree in it. And now, he's an actor. Sure, he's a bank teller by day to make ends meet, but by night he's a professional actor with an area Shakespeare company. He just makes it seem so simple, so easy. While I, on the other hand, announce one day that I'm going to be a beekeeper, and the next that I want to open up a thrift store.

Did I mention I have a political science degree? Weird. I'm not really sure how that fits in to the mix of everything, except perhaps my obsession with global conspiracies and the FBI.

Does anyone else ever feel this way? What's your dream career? Are you currently in it, or are you still searching?

Happy Friday, friends.

just between you and me (vol. V)

Confession #5: Just between you and me, I came home from work twice this week and downed 4 Oreo cookies.

Phew. I feel better.

Seriously. Whenever I eat junk food, I feel like I need to go to some sort of Calorie Confessional. True story.

Oh, and I totally ate them Parent Trap style.


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Hallie: "Want one?
Annie: "Oh, sure. I love Oreos. At home, I eat them with peanut butter."
Hallie: "That is sooo weird. So do I!"

Awesome.

Happy Friday, friends.

between you & me (vol. IV)

Confession #4: Just between you and me, my hair is starting to go gray.

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Ok, so maybe I'm not quite ready to join the cast of The Golden Girls reboot. But some days, it feels like it.

If we're being really honest, I had my first gray hair at 19. It's really quite a miracle that I held out that long. My parents started getting gray hairs in their early teens and my grandpa's locks was almost completely snow white by the time he was 30. Eh, blame it on genetics, I guess. (And the wedding planning. And the job. Hmm, mostly the job? But I digress.)

To my credit, I think I've taken my premature graying pretty well. I don't pull out every one that I see, and I don't have a meltdown each time a new one appears. I don't meticulously comb my hair, searching for each fading strand. I don't dye my hair every 2 weeks. 

Really, I'm taking it very well.

But, hey. Every girl needs a change now and then, so as of Monday, my hair will be this color.

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But, uh, just between you and me, I will be thinking of it as this color.

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Please, don't judge.

Happy Friday, friends.

between you & me (vol. III)

Confession #3: Just between you and me, I’m a Cubs fan.

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Any Cubs fan and they will tell you that this is the year. Every year. It’s easy enough to dismiss us as crazy, and go back to cheering for a team that actually wins. But who says that you need actual wins to love a team? Not me. A true fan is with a team through thick and thin. So what if the Cubs haven't gone to the World Series since 1945 (and haven’t won since 1908)? In some weird, twisted, kinda backwards way, this just makes me love 'em even more.

I'm a card-carrying member of the Cubs Fans Since Birth Club. (Ok, not really. But if there was such a club, I'd be all over it.) I was raised to love the Cubs, hate the Sox, and that Wrigley Field is the greatest place on earth.

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My dad started telling me that I was a Cubs fan before I could crawl. While he always taught me to think for myself and make my own choices, baseball was the one area of my life that was nonnegotiable. I didn't know that the words to Take Me Out to the Ballgame were "root, root, root for the home team" until I went to kindergarten. (I always thought the lyrics were "root for the Cubbies." Who knew?) In pretty much every picture of me taken between the ages of 8 and 13, I was wearing a Cubs hat. (Consequently, I am still recovering from hat hair.)

There really is nothing like sitting in the stands at Wrigley, sun beating down on your head and a cool breeze from the Lake on your face; hot dog in one hand and an Old Style in the other. Pure, simple contentment.

Dad & me @ Wrigley circa 2009
(Yes, those seats are 9 rows up from the dugout on the 3rd baseline.)

I will be spending this Opening Day in my office in Grand Rapids, surrounded by cranky Tigers fans; but my heart will be in Chicago with the Cubs. 

C'mon, Cubbies. Win this one for Ronnie.

This is our year. I can feel it.

between you & me (vol. II)

After a week of consideration, I've decided to change the name of the Friday Confessions series to "Between You & Me." I think this gives it the more personal feel I was looking for, and doesn't sound as looming as a confession. (Or maybe I just have a guilty conscience.)

At any rate, the concept is the same, the name has just been changed to protect the innocent. =) Ok, back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Confession #2:

Just between you and me, I played hooky from an afternoon of work to see this author speak at the GRPL.

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Don't recognize him? That's ok. I'm sure you know his most famous creation.

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Yep. I skipped out early from work to see a children's author. Marc Brown, to be exact. Not only that, I stood in line for an hour for him to sign my battered copy of Arthur's Eyes. I was the oldest person there who wasn't a parent. True story.

I loved the Arthur books as a kid. He was kinda awkward and nerdy, I was (am?) kinda awkward and nerdy. We're two peas in a pod, Arthur and I.

I also loved the TV show. My TV time was limited as a kid, but I was a PBS junkie. Seriously. Wishbone, Sesame Street, Arthur, ZOOM, Mr. Roger's Neighborhood...I loved them all. (I'm a huge proponent for educational programming, specifically the kind funded by viewers like you.)

In his talk, Mr. Brown stressed the importance of reading, and its impact on the lives of children, as well as adults. I truly believe being a lifelong reader has opened doors for me that I never could have imagined as a kindergartner clutching a stack of library books to my chest. Reading has not only taught me to think critically; it has given me an imagination.

Marc Brown and Arthur have encouraged children of all ages to put their noses in a book, but they have also taught us to not keep them there. Take what you've read, and use it. Put it into practice. Make dreams reality.

Arthur is teaching generation after generation the value of reading, imagination, and tolerance.

Not bad for a nearsighted aardvark.

Marc Brown & me

Thanks for the life lessons, Arthur, er, Mr. Brown. You have the gratitude of generations of children around the globe, myself included.

friday confessions (vol. I)

As I mentioned here, one of the many goals for my blog is to create a weekly feature or two. This is my attempt. Let me know what you think. Allow me to introduce Friday Confessions. 

Lighthearted, serious, goofy, or heartfelt—complete and total honesty is the only requirement. Feel free to make your own confessions!

Confession #1:

I love The X-Files way more than any person should. *cue theme*

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Seriously, it's bordering on obsession. I love this show like Mulder loves sunflower seeds and a darkened parking garage.

I know what you're thinking. "Uh, Molly? Wasn't that show popular like, a million years ago? Don't you think you're a little behind?" The answer to these questions is yes. However, I'm pretty well known for being slightly behind what all the cool kids are doing. By the time I get into something, it's usually 10 years after everyone else. Case and point: As my friend Kat once put it, "Molly, by the time you read/watch Harry Potter, it will be the year 2020." True story; but at least no one can ever accuse me of hopping on the bandwagon.

Why start watching The X-Files now, a good ten years after it went off the air? Well, why does anyone start watching a random show of network television past? Netflix Instant. (You know you've done it, too. Is Season 1 of Ugly Betty sitting in your instant que? Yeah, I thought so.)

Now, I'm not a huge TV-watcher. Really, I’m not. (I’m a reader by trade.) We don't have cable, and only get about two and a half stations on our TV, one of which runs The Lawrence Welk Show on a constant loop. (I'm not joking.) Netflix is basically our only form of moving-picture-related entertainment. So this fall, during a rainy and chilly weekend, I discovered The X-Files.

“Ehh, what the heck. I’ll give ‘er a try,” I thought. And oh, what a try it was. I was blown away; instantly sucked into the grainy world of FBI agents and alien abductions.

The mystery! The suspense! The government conspiracies! And the sexual tension between Mulder and Scully...oh dear lord, the sexual tension!

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Why I'm just now discovering this show that is chock full of my very favorite things (see above), I have no idea. I watched Unsolved Mysteries religiously throughout my childhood. I believed in the Loch Ness monster like most children believed in the Easter Bunny. (The only difference is, I still believe in Nessie.) And I'm preeetty sure I opted to study political science in college because government conspiracy wasn't an option. True story.

The X-Files tickles my conspiracy bone in a way that nothing else can. (Well, except for actual conspiracies. And Robert Stack.)

It's quite a step for me to post this on the Internets for all to see. I'm not fully "out of the closet," if you will, with my nerdiness. I always knew that I wasn't exactly the epitome of cool, but I never truly admitted to myself what I nerd I was. I'm working on embracing it. If you could keep this all very hush hush in the meantime, I’d appreciate it.

So, there you have it. My first confession. I love  Fox Mulder  The X-Files.

(And this is just the tip of the nerdy iceberg. Stay tuned.)

Oh, and for my fellow X-Philes, the truth is out there.

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 Happy Friday, friends.