But Daddy would appreciate his family doing the Charleston ... :)
Send your own ElfYourself eCards
Monday, December 15, 2008
Holiday Spirit
Christmas is even harder this year than last. It sure doesn't hurt any less.
But Daddy would appreciate his family doing the Charleston ... :)
But Daddy would appreciate his family doing the Charleston ... :)
Friday, September 26, 2008
One Year Passes
Dear Daddy,
It can't believe it has already been a year since we lost you. How did that even happen? I still don't understand how the world kept turning after you were gone. I remember driving down the street and being angry at all the people going about their lives without a care, when my dear sweet daddy wasn't here anymore.
The anger isn't as intense, but the sadness never goes away. I'm able to smile and laugh and find joy in life but every time I find that joy, I want desperately to tell you about it. I still haven't been able to take you out of my cell phone.
So much has happened in the last year, Daddy. I am really starting to heal and rebuild after several years of unhappiness. I know you worried about me a lot but I'm actually doing really well. I'm finally following my dream and loving nursing school, despite the stress. I love my new city and my friends and I wish you had been here when we moved all my stuff in. I remember when we did that back east, and then ordered our favorite takeout.
And then there is S. I'm sure you would have worried (as usual) that I was rushing headlong into a new passion, without being ready for a new romance when I was still healing from an old one. To be honest, I was worried too for a while. But there are so many things about him that remind me of you. To me, that is the highest compliment I could pay anyone, that he is like you. He knows what it's like to lose a beloved parent to cancer. He was part of Team Dougie this year, and he has become my rock now. I would like to believe that when you look down, you are truly happy that I have met someone who treasures me the way S does. I know it's what you always wanted for all of us - to have the kind of the relationship you had with Mom.
Sometimes when I think about all of the moments you will miss, I get really sad. You did get to walk me down the aisle, but I wish you were here now to watch us all find our way. You would have been the most amazing grandfather. I wish you and Mom were able to retire together and really take advantage of those empty nester years that were just getting started. We miss your antics at parties and your cooking and skills at mixing Cosmopolitans. I miss hearing your voice on the other end of the line - "just checkin' in," as you always said. Certain things remind me of you and I talk about you as much as I can, to keep you alive and to remember how good I really had it when I had you as my Daddy. I still have it good because I'll always have you in my heart. I just wish you were here still for Eskimo kisses and bear hugs.
I love you all the way from the garage door to the living room wall.
I miss you every day,
Tiney
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
It can't believe it has already been a year since we lost you. How did that even happen? I still don't understand how the world kept turning after you were gone. I remember driving down the street and being angry at all the people going about their lives without a care, when my dear sweet daddy wasn't here anymore.
The anger isn't as intense, but the sadness never goes away. I'm able to smile and laugh and find joy in life but every time I find that joy, I want desperately to tell you about it. I still haven't been able to take you out of my cell phone.
So much has happened in the last year, Daddy. I am really starting to heal and rebuild after several years of unhappiness. I know you worried about me a lot but I'm actually doing really well. I'm finally following my dream and loving nursing school, despite the stress. I love my new city and my friends and I wish you had been here when we moved all my stuff in. I remember when we did that back east, and then ordered our favorite takeout.
And then there is S. I'm sure you would have worried (as usual) that I was rushing headlong into a new passion, without being ready for a new romance when I was still healing from an old one. To be honest, I was worried too for a while. But there are so many things about him that remind me of you. To me, that is the highest compliment I could pay anyone, that he is like you. He knows what it's like to lose a beloved parent to cancer. He was part of Team Dougie this year, and he has become my rock now. I would like to believe that when you look down, you are truly happy that I have met someone who treasures me the way S does. I know it's what you always wanted for all of us - to have the kind of the relationship you had with Mom.
Sometimes when I think about all of the moments you will miss, I get really sad. You did get to walk me down the aisle, but I wish you were here now to watch us all find our way. You would have been the most amazing grandfather. I wish you and Mom were able to retire together and really take advantage of those empty nester years that were just getting started. We miss your antics at parties and your cooking and skills at mixing Cosmopolitans. I miss hearing your voice on the other end of the line - "just checkin' in," as you always said. Certain things remind me of you and I talk about you as much as I can, to keep you alive and to remember how good I really had it when I had you as my Daddy. I still have it good because I'll always have you in my heart. I just wish you were here still for Eskimo kisses and bear hugs.
I love you all the way from the garage door to the living room wall.
I miss you every day,
Tiney
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Our Cancer
I had a dream last night that journalist and my favorite blogger Leroy Sievers died. His lifetime partner Laurie had posted yesterday that things were a little rough but he would be back next week. That must still have been on my mind when I went to bed last night.
This morning I woke up to the news that Leroy did indeed pass away. The details are scarce at this point but it sounds as if it happened quickly, which in "cancer world" can be a good thing.
I am very sad. Leroy helped me sort through a lot of my emotions about Dad's cancer. And even though my father only lived six months after diagnosis, while Leroy made it 2 1/2 years after being told he had 6 months to live, I can't really resent him for living, can't I? I think what I truly appreciated was that he gave a voice to all of the unspeakable thoughts and feelings that surround people living with cancer. And he encouraged us to speak out too. His blog was one of the inspirations for changing the focus of my own. I felt it was important to tell our story so that perhaps someone in the middle of Oklahoma somewhere might come across it and feel the slightest bit of comfort that they weren't alone in their own cancer journey.
Leroy did that for millions of people.
We will miss him.
This morning I woke up to the news that Leroy did indeed pass away. The details are scarce at this point but it sounds as if it happened quickly, which in "cancer world" can be a good thing.
I am very sad. Leroy helped me sort through a lot of my emotions about Dad's cancer. And even though my father only lived six months after diagnosis, while Leroy made it 2 1/2 years after being told he had 6 months to live, I can't really resent him for living, can't I? I think what I truly appreciated was that he gave a voice to all of the unspeakable thoughts and feelings that surround people living with cancer. And he encouraged us to speak out too. His blog was one of the inspirations for changing the focus of my own. I felt it was important to tell our story so that perhaps someone in the middle of Oklahoma somewhere might come across it and feel the slightest bit of comfort that they weren't alone in their own cancer journey.
Leroy did that for millions of people.
We will miss him.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
A New Chapter
So my sabbatical year at home with family has come to an end. This afternoon we packed up my grandparents' RV with all of my stuff and we'll head out first thing tomorrow morning for my new city. Nursing school is just around the corner - orientation starts July 23th and my first clinical class starts the 28th. Fall semester officially begins August 25th.
It is crazy how much my life (and for that matter, my body) has transformed in the past year. I moved across the country, cared for my father and watched him slip away, grieved, began to heal, found an exercise routine and learned to love veggies and hard boiled eggs, filed for divorce, got into nursing school (again), lost almost 50 pounds, and fell in love. Whew, I'm exhausted just remembering it all.
But I needed this year. Things were really beginning to unravel and although the healing continues, my mind, heart, soul and body are all much improved. Even better, I am really excited about this next step...although somewhat nervous about unravelling again. If there's anything I learned this year, it's the importance of 1) taking care of yourself, 2) surrounding yourself with people you love, and 3) following your heart. I knew all that intuitively before, but this roller coaster of a year was a lesson in life and love.
And with the next step comes the semi-retirement of this blog. I will still post from time to time with milestones, anniversaries, remembrances and other tributes to Daddy. But as I move forward, I find it appropriate to hang my hat for a while. The nursing school blog I've been keeping since December will pick up where this left off, and will be chock full of horror stories, amusing anecdotes, and continued insight into what it means to be a young female nurse-to-be trying to navigate the world.
So here we go...
It is crazy how much my life (and for that matter, my body) has transformed in the past year. I moved across the country, cared for my father and watched him slip away, grieved, began to heal, found an exercise routine and learned to love veggies and hard boiled eggs, filed for divorce, got into nursing school (again), lost almost 50 pounds, and fell in love. Whew, I'm exhausted just remembering it all.
But I needed this year. Things were really beginning to unravel and although the healing continues, my mind, heart, soul and body are all much improved. Even better, I am really excited about this next step...although somewhat nervous about unravelling again. If there's anything I learned this year, it's the importance of 1) taking care of yourself, 2) surrounding yourself with people you love, and 3) following your heart. I knew all that intuitively before, but this roller coaster of a year was a lesson in life and love.
And with the next step comes the semi-retirement of this blog. I will still post from time to time with milestones, anniversaries, remembrances and other tributes to Daddy. But as I move forward, I find it appropriate to hang my hat for a while. The nursing school blog I've been keeping since December will pick up where this left off, and will be chock full of horror stories, amusing anecdotes, and continued insight into what it means to be a young female nurse-to-be trying to navigate the world.
So here we go...
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Proud Like a Mama
We have our own little graduate this year. Kabi passed puppy training!!
Here she is in all of her "cap and gown" splendor and adorableness.
Here she is in all of her "cap and gown" splendor and adorableness.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Feels Familiar
When my father was first diagnosed, we did a lot of research as a family. We wanted to not only figure out what this beastly cancer was all about but also to find out how other people dealt with it. Each of us discovered our own resources that helped us cope individually and collectively with the cancer journey.
One of my tools was a blog by Leroy Sievers, which we heard about while watching a Discovery Channel special on cancer hosted by Ted Koppel. Leroy is a former international journalist who was diagnosed with metastatic cancer and told he had months to live ... 2 1/2 years ago. His profound writing and willingness to be vulnerable to millions of people helped me AND my dad at the beginning. When it became clear that unlike Leroy, Daddy would not be defying the odds, he stopped reading the blog. Perhaps the injustice of it all got to him, or perhaps he worried that reading a blog about beating cancer would give him unrealistic expectations about his own prognosis. But I kept reading, and have continued to do so, due to a subscribed thread that I never cancelled.
I am sad to say that Leroy's body seems to have met its match after a long and often painful journey. He underwent procedures I had never heard of before, and had some serious spinal surgery. He battled a nasty infection. He received so much radiation and chemo that neither treatment is an option anymore. And his first post of this week was a haunting reminder - in his words, the cancer has "exploded". New mets in his brain and liver, tumors in his lungs and several spots in his bones (spine, shoulder blade, ribs and a nasty one that fractured his pelvic bone). It doesn't look good.
As his blogs morph from a fighting to a reminiscing mentality, I am sad and scared because I know what's ahead for him. I watched it happen. But I am also thankful that his voice has been there for me (and for my father). I don't resent him for overcoming the odds and living longer than expected. I appreciate that someone out there is willing to be completely honest about this journey and has been able remind me of the power of empathy.
I will continue to read Leroy's posts as long as he writes. At some point it may become too painful for him, physically AND mentally. And I will really miss the blog and the man when the time comes. I wish him and his loved ones well. I hope he realizes what a mark he has made on the cancer community.
Thank you, Leroy. You have spoken for us all.
One of my tools was a blog by Leroy Sievers, which we heard about while watching a Discovery Channel special on cancer hosted by Ted Koppel. Leroy is a former international journalist who was diagnosed with metastatic cancer and told he had months to live ... 2 1/2 years ago. His profound writing and willingness to be vulnerable to millions of people helped me AND my dad at the beginning. When it became clear that unlike Leroy, Daddy would not be defying the odds, he stopped reading the blog. Perhaps the injustice of it all got to him, or perhaps he worried that reading a blog about beating cancer would give him unrealistic expectations about his own prognosis. But I kept reading, and have continued to do so, due to a subscribed thread that I never cancelled.
I am sad to say that Leroy's body seems to have met its match after a long and often painful journey. He underwent procedures I had never heard of before, and had some serious spinal surgery. He battled a nasty infection. He received so much radiation and chemo that neither treatment is an option anymore. And his first post of this week was a haunting reminder - in his words, the cancer has "exploded". New mets in his brain and liver, tumors in his lungs and several spots in his bones (spine, shoulder blade, ribs and a nasty one that fractured his pelvic bone). It doesn't look good.
As his blogs morph from a fighting to a reminiscing mentality, I am sad and scared because I know what's ahead for him. I watched it happen. But I am also thankful that his voice has been there for me (and for my father). I don't resent him for overcoming the odds and living longer than expected. I appreciate that someone out there is willing to be completely honest about this journey and has been able remind me of the power of empathy.
I will continue to read Leroy's posts as long as he writes. At some point it may become too painful for him, physically AND mentally. And I will really miss the blog and the man when the time comes. I wish him and his loved ones well. I hope he realizes what a mark he has made on the cancer community.
Thank you, Leroy. You have spoken for us all.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Another Date To Remember
Today would have been 31 years of my parents' marriage. Mom didn't want to do anything significant to mark the day - just be home with us and go about her daily business.
I would think this would be one of the harder milestones of the year. Every other tradition or holiday was something Daddy shared with family and friends, something we could commemorate as a community that loved him dearly. But a wedding anniversary was something the two of them shared intimately and something that my father went to great lengths to celebrate every year. It always involved giving mom long-stemmed roses to mark the number of years they were together. It always involved grand romantic gestures. Now that I know how it feels to be swept off my feet and treated with such love and devotion, I can't imagine having to remember a date such as this on my own. It must have been a very long day for Mom.
And Sunday is Father's Day. We'll be visiting Daddy and making "Our Eggs". This week is a doozy.
I would think this would be one of the harder milestones of the year. Every other tradition or holiday was something Daddy shared with family and friends, something we could commemorate as a community that loved him dearly. But a wedding anniversary was something the two of them shared intimately and something that my father went to great lengths to celebrate every year. It always involved giving mom long-stemmed roses to mark the number of years they were together. It always involved grand romantic gestures. Now that I know how it feels to be swept off my feet and treated with such love and devotion, I can't imagine having to remember a date such as this on my own. It must have been a very long day for Mom.
And Sunday is Father's Day. We'll be visiting Daddy and making "Our Eggs". This week is a doozy.
Monday, June 09, 2008
Relay for Life Tribute Video
Thanks to everyone who e-mailed me their pictures from the Relay for Life 2008! Here is a tribute video for Team Dougie...
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Team Dougie
I am slacking big-time on the blog posts lately but I wanted to make sure I put up some pictures from the 2008 Relay for Life. "Team Dougie" was back in full force (40+ registered team members, and then some) and it was a really incredible weekend. My sister led the team in a pre-relay "opening ceremony" for Daddy and then his covenant group said a prayer. Then we watched with pride our family members also facing cancer as they walked the survivors' lap.
Then it was time for the caregivers' lap. That was painful. We walked arm in arm and S joined us since he took care of his mom who also had lung cancer and passed away 7 years ago.
There were good times, and lots of sad times, and a lot of stories shared about Daddy. The luminaria slideshow featured ALL of the pictures I had sent in, so it basically became the "Dougie show". Fine by me - the more love, the better.
Here are some photos from 24 hours of honoring my incredible father...
Team prayer before the opening ceremonies.
The team saluting Dougie.
Our survivors.
My luminaria to Daddy.
The fireman in the middle walked the entire 24 hours!!
S was there with me - what a guy!
Team Dougie makes it through the weekend.
Then it was time for the caregivers' lap. That was painful. We walked arm in arm and S joined us since he took care of his mom who also had lung cancer and passed away 7 years ago.
There were good times, and lots of sad times, and a lot of stories shared about Daddy. The luminaria slideshow featured ALL of the pictures I had sent in, so it basically became the "Dougie show". Fine by me - the more love, the better.
Here are some photos from 24 hours of honoring my incredible father...
Team prayer before the opening ceremonies.
The team saluting Dougie.
Our survivors.
My luminaria to Daddy.
The fireman in the middle walked the entire 24 hours!!
S was there with me - what a guy!
Team Dougie makes it through the weekend.Monday, May 12, 2008
Me Likey the Vino
Last weekend was incredible! Mom, sister and I headed up to Santa Ynez with our Aunt Minnie, Emily and Elizabeth. We had bought a wine tour at a silent auction event last fall and decided to have a little girl's weekend/early Mother's Day celebration.
What a day! We toured the valley in style, in our Mercedes Airstream limo bus, stopped at four wineries and a yummy cafe in Los Olivos for lunch. By the end of the day, we were rolling down the hills (literally: see evidence below).
Happy Girls!
Rolling down the hills at Fess Parker (Winery #3 out of 4).
Not a great idea but highly entertaining for the rest of us!
We got home Saturday afternoon after a 5-hour crawl down the 405, reunited with our puppy and went to see Iron Man. My brother was in town for Mother's Day, and S came along too - it was an awesome movie and there is nothing better than holding hands in a movie theater. It's so innocent and fun. I know, I'm gross.
Sunday we went to Mother's Day Brunch at one of our favorite hotels in town. The theme was "Queen For a Day" and they had trumpeters herald the entrance of each mother. Mom had to take a picture on a throne, wearing a tiara and all. :) It was a tough Mother's Day as the first one without Daddy but I'm glad we could all be together.
So here it is, Monday morning. 6 more weeks until I bid farewell to my job and only two more months until I pack up and head north for school. What a year it's been!
What a day! We toured the valley in style, in our Mercedes Airstream limo bus, stopped at four wineries and a yummy cafe in Los Olivos for lunch. By the end of the day, we were rolling down the hills (literally: see evidence below).
Happy Girls!
Rolling down the hills at Fess Parker (Winery #3 out of 4).Not a great idea but highly entertaining for the rest of us!
We got home Saturday afternoon after a 5-hour crawl down the 405, reunited with our puppy and went to see Iron Man. My brother was in town for Mother's Day, and S came along too - it was an awesome movie and there is nothing better than holding hands in a movie theater. It's so innocent and fun. I know, I'm gross.
Sunday we went to Mother's Day Brunch at one of our favorite hotels in town. The theme was "Queen For a Day" and they had trumpeters herald the entrance of each mother. Mom had to take a picture on a throne, wearing a tiara and all. :) It was a tough Mother's Day as the first one without Daddy but I'm glad we could all be together.
So here it is, Monday morning. 6 more weeks until I bid farewell to my job and only two more months until I pack up and head north for school. What a year it's been!
Sunday, May 04, 2008
A Moratorium
That is what I am placing on behalf of my body, against any other diseases that might be considering crossing the path of my immune system. I was sick again for an entire week and I am none too pleased about it!
This time around it was tonsillitis (see pretty picture below). Which I have no memory of ever having before in my life. Last weekend I started feeling achy and weak and by Monday morning I hurt so bad I just wanted to have someone knock me out. And oh the fevers and chills! But the worst part by far was my throat. Every swallow was an exercise in holding back the tears. And I am not kidding.
I finally dragged my butt to the doctor on Wednesday (actually new boyfriend drove me - what a keeper!) and the verdict was handed down. Antibiotics for me and no work until Monday. I was fine with this as I really wanted to keep sleeping, but between an effed-up gallbladder in December and a horrific case of the flu in January, I was fresh out of sick time. So last week's trauma was compounded by the fact that it was almost-entirely unpaid. Ouch.
So any other germs out there who may be toying with the idea of coming for a visit, KEEP OUT!! I'm done being sick. And dammit, I just can't afford it!
This time around it was tonsillitis (see pretty picture below). Which I have no memory of ever having before in my life. Last weekend I started feeling achy and weak and by Monday morning I hurt so bad I just wanted to have someone knock me out. And oh the fevers and chills! But the worst part by far was my throat. Every swallow was an exercise in holding back the tears. And I am not kidding.
I finally dragged my butt to the doctor on Wednesday (actually new boyfriend drove me - what a keeper!) and the verdict was handed down. Antibiotics for me and no work until Monday. I was fine with this as I really wanted to keep sleeping, but between an effed-up gallbladder in December and a horrific case of the flu in January, I was fresh out of sick time. So last week's trauma was compounded by the fact that it was almost-entirely unpaid. Ouch.
So any other germs out there who may be toying with the idea of coming for a visit, KEEP OUT!! I'm done being sick. And dammit, I just can't afford it!
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Marsherita!
When I worked for the Chaplain at Korle Bu Hospital in Ghana and we were on call to see patients, we'd spend hours in the office watching Ghanaian television. What a trip!
One of the most entertaining parts were the music video interludes, especially this one by Slim Busterr....
Enjoy a little taste of Ghana.
One of the most entertaining parts were the music video interludes, especially this one by Slim Busterr....
Enjoy a little taste of Ghana.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Graduation Day
Tonight, at "Step 'n Sculpt with Nancy", I graduated from one step to two! No "Pomp and Circumstance" or anything, but I was relieved that I made it through the class without tripping or perhaps even breaking my leg.
I felt the difference big time! My calories burned went back up (it had plateau-ed over the past few weeks) and my booty is gettin' cuter every day. :)
I felt the difference big time! My calories burned went back up (it had plateau-ed over the past few weeks) and my booty is gettin' cuter every day. :)
Gotta love Healthy Teeny '08!
Monday, April 07, 2008
Take A Dip
When I decided to file for divorce, I knew that although I was nowhere near ready for a serious relationship, it was time to get back "out there." After all, I've never done the grown-up dating thing. I met my husband when I was 21 and never looked back.
So how to dive back into the dating pool when a) you're a rookie and b) the area you live in has a reputation for superficiality and a lack of brain cells? Go online, baby!
I had marginal luck my first couple of months. Met one boy who was nice but totally wrapped up in his life pre-Teeny and unwilling to make room. But last week I went on a date that put all other blind dates to shame!
"S" and I met for coffee - innocent and safe. 2 and 1/2 hours later, we were still gabbing away. Our lives are parallel not only in our mutual interests and love of dogs, but even in some of the trials we have faced. Since meeting, we have spoken on the phone almost daily and texted in between conversations. It's early yet but I have a good feeling about this one.
What's even better is that no matter what happens between us, it's so nice to have that good feeling and see myself moving forward with my life.
So thank you, S! I'm looking forward to Date #2! :)
So how to dive back into the dating pool when a) you're a rookie and b) the area you live in has a reputation for superficiality and a lack of brain cells? Go online, baby!
I had marginal luck my first couple of months. Met one boy who was nice but totally wrapped up in his life pre-Teeny and unwilling to make room. But last week I went on a date that put all other blind dates to shame!
"S" and I met for coffee - innocent and safe. 2 and 1/2 hours later, we were still gabbing away. Our lives are parallel not only in our mutual interests and love of dogs, but even in some of the trials we have faced. Since meeting, we have spoken on the phone almost daily and texted in between conversations. It's early yet but I have a good feeling about this one.
What's even better is that no matter what happens between us, it's so nice to have that good feeling and see myself moving forward with my life.
So thank you, S! I'm looking forward to Date #2! :)
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
A Season of Greatness
I have spent the last few days contemplating how best to capture the pride I feel in my alma mater. For the athletic greatness demonstrated. For the fact that they accomplished such greatness in the midst of a tiny student body of 1,700 and one of the most academically rigorous programs in the United States. For a coach whose story and whose commitment to Davidson is simply inspiring. And for the Board of Trustees' historic decision to dig into their own pockets and foot the bill for hundreds of students to travel to Detroit for the Sweet Sixteen and Elite Eight.
I have always gushed about my four years at Davidson. So I thought it only fitting to capture my exuberance and joy in a video tribute to Davidson College Basketball. I hope you enjoy it...
I have always gushed about my four years at Davidson. So I thought it only fitting to capture my exuberance and joy in a video tribute to Davidson College Basketball. I hope you enjoy it...
"I Can Do All Things..."
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Doing Davidson Proud
WHAT A GAME.
Yes, our boys in red will be headed home after losing by 2 in a heart- and gut-wrenching Elite 8 matchup. Yes, it would have been incredible to go to the Final Four, or maybe even all the way.
But Davidson did so much more than play great basketball. They represented a great school. They exhibited awe-inspiring athletic skill, but they also showed humility and respect. They put on the map a school that has always deserved to be nationally recognized.
Their 2008 Tournament run will go down in history. But most importantly, they showed what it means to come from a family. And that is what makes you great.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Wildcats Forever
This article epitomizes why my four years at Davidson College (1999-2003) were so memorable and so very special... Props to Michael Kruse for capturing what alums around the world have been feeling this March Madness!
What It Means
On the first day of March, in Statesboro, Ga., after the Davidson basketball team beat Georgia Southern to finish the regular season in the Southern Conference at 20-0, I was with Steph Curry with a couple other reporters, and when he was talking to somebody else I happened to look down at his shoes, and what I saw in black Sharpie on the side of one of his Nikes was this: Romans 8:28.
Last fall, I wrote a long story for Charlotte magazine about this highly anticipated '07-'08 Davidson basketball season, and in that story I posited the theory that this kid, all of 19 at the time, and just turned 20 now, could at the end of his four years be the most important player in the history of Davidson basketball. That idea got stronger and stronger in the course of my reporting. Still, though, I wouldn't have voiced it in public like that if people at the school, in the president's office, in the basketball office and around the athletic department, had at all dismissed the notion when I threw it out there.
Jim Murphy, the athletic director, said it wasn't out of the question.
Bob McKillop, the basketball coach, said Steph had a chance to be a "poster boy" for the program.
Now, sitting here in the Davidson Inn, still trying to process what happened this past weekend in Raleigh, and also what it means and could mean in the future, looking at Steph on the front page of not only the Charlotte Observer but the USA Today, seeing Wildcat red on the sports front of the New York Times, scanning stories online from ESPN.com, SI.com, Yahoo! Sports, CBS SportsLine, the Washington Post, the New York Post, the New York Daily News, Newsday, the Chicago Tribune, Slate, and on and on and on, I have to say:
We all might have sold the kid short.
He might, in some ways, right now, be the most important PERSON at Davidson, basketball or otherwise, and it took him TWO years, not four.
What he did this past weekend in Raleigh was this: He scored 40 points against Gonzaga. He scored 30 points against Georgetown. He outscored Georgetown's entire team in the last 14 minutes and change on Sunday. He did things to put little Davidson in the Sweet 16 that were unbelievable even to those of us who have been trained to just about expect the unexpected with him.
But what he did, in a broader sense, and what he IS doing, and will continue to do, goes way beyond basketball, and way beyond this week heading into Friday's game against Wisconsin. Here's the thing, and I say this as a Class of 2000 Davidson grad, and also as someone who now makes a living as a reporter at the St. Petersburg Times: The small college in the cute, wee town in northern Mecklenburg County, it seems to me, always has had this institutional reticence about being too forward or loud in telling or selling its story, even as the college over the last generation or so has gone from regionally fine to nationally excellent. The thought, rooted, I think, in the school's Southern, Presbyterian makeup, is that braggarts are unbecoming.
It's as if we say, We know what we are, we know what we have. And we leave it at that.
But we want people to know.
We do.
We don't mind answering the questions. What's Davidson? Where's Davidson? But we'd really rather not have to.
And this, I think, is where Steph comes in.
Before I go any deeper, though, I should say that he's not the only guy – he's the star of the show, but he's not a one-man band.
McKillop is the perfect man for his job. He is OF this place, in a way that can come only with time, and an emotional investment and attachment, too, that for him looks like this: His older son played for him. His younger son plays for him. His daughter went to Davidson and is engaged to a Davidson man. He's more than just a coach in this community.
He is 57. Next year is his 20th year here. He's the program's all-time winningest coach and the Southern Conference's all-time winningest coach. Five NCAAs, three NITs, all those league titles, all those coach of the year awards, all those international pros he's produced. Within this sustained success, and at a really hard place to win in Division I basketball, he's the constant.
I've often thought of the Davidson basketball story as the chase of the chance. The chance to win in the NCAA tournament. The chance to beat the big boys. The chance to match the precedent set by Lefty Driesell way back in the '60s in a very different time. It's the narrative that never ends.
Within that story, though, is the story of a man, and the McKillop story, just over the last few years, I think, has begun to come into sharper focus: He came here to go somewhere else, and says so, and he ended up staying put and finding a home. He lives across the street from campus. He walks to games. His children went to the school he represents. All of this is highly, highly unusual in his mostly greedy, mercenary, job-hopping profession. And it's somehow reassuring for the rest of us who live in this go-go, more-more, what's-next world.
It's instructional and inspirational without being Chicken Soupy or sappy or overwrought.
He's where he's supposed to be.
It's practically a parable.
That sort of continuity and connection seeps into his roster. Take Thomas Sander. He's a senior this year, a captain, but toward the end of his playing career in high school in Cincinnati the thoughtful kid actually was considering not playing in college because he found the recruiting process smarmy and disheartening. McKillop, he thought, was different. Now the econ major is an anchor of a class that has won 100 games – the most of any class in the history of the program – and his trademark might be as a guy who sets screens that are awe-inspiring to those who really know what they're watching when they're watching basketball. Everybody sees Steph's shots go in. Not even close to everybody sees all the things that go into creating those shots.
There's Max Paulhus Gosselin, the selfless, tireless defender from Quebec, a guy whose effort on the court is so palpable I sometimes can't look away.
There's Andrew Lovedale, a testament to the kind of consistent development so many of McKillop's players seem to experience: He started this year as a reserve. He's ending it as a revelation.
There's Stephen Rossiter, the Staten Island son of a New York City firefighter, and I don't mean to gush here, but he's one of the nicest kids you'll ever meet.
There's Jason Richards, the point guard from the suburbs of Chicago, underrated and unflappable, a history major who wrote his thesis earlier this academic year on the African-American reaction to Jackie Robinson and the breaking of the color barrier in Major League Baseball. The first hug he got Sunday night when the bus got back from Raleigh was from Dr. Sally McMillen, his advisor, and also, I should say in the interest of full disclosure, a mentor to me, too, when I was here in school and ever since. Bill Cobb, Class of '84 and one of the Wildcats' most devoted fans, said Monday: "This is our team. It's the community's team. We all won." And I think this is what he means. I don't know Jason the way I knew the guys on the team when I was in school, not by any stretch, but I FEEL like I do, I feel like I know him, and that feeling somehow is because of things like Dr. McMillen giving him that hug. That's something we share.
During my time as a student, I wrote about the basketball team for the Davidsonian, and I started a newsletter for fans that still exists, The Wildcat Report. After graduating, though, I gradually lost touch, because I had jobs, because I lived for a while up in New York, because then I moved to Florida to work for the St. Pete Times.
Last year, though, I was coming through town in December, for the first time in what seemed like years, and to see Dr. McMillen, actually, and I called up associate head coach Matt Matheny and asked if he could get me a ticket for the UNC Charlotte game. He said sure. Left it at will call. This was very early in Steph's freshman season, and I had heard about this special player, this special kid, but I didn't really have any idea. So the Wildcats won the tip, threw it to Steph, and he shot a three, and it missed and came bouncing back to him and he picked up the ball and shot it again and it went in. This was all in, like, the first seven seconds of the game. I might be misremembering. But that's at least the way it plays in my head.
I was captivated as a graduate of Davidson.
I was captivated as a watcher of basketball.
I was captivated as a professional seeker of story.
And it was immediate. Can't really explain. Just was.
So this year I came to Charlotte for the Duke game, I went to Anaheim for the UCLA game, I was in Davidson for weekends when I could get away, I was in Charleston twice, I was in Statesboro. When I wasn't at games – I do, after all, live in Tampa, and have a job that I love and would like to keep – I listened to John Kilgo and Logan Kosmalski on the Internet radio broadcast. I started clicking refresh way too often on the message board at DavidsonCats.com.
Then came Easter weekend in Raleigh.
"There's a lot of joy going through my body," Jason said after Gonzaga.
After Georgetown, McKillop, standing in a hallway under the RBC Center stands, talked about the first moments with his team after the game in the locker room. He talked about joy too. "We just laughed, we just laughed," he said, "because of the joy we felt for each other and our program."
And then there was Steph.
I look at the photo that ran huge on 5C of the Observer sports section on Monday, with him running down the court, one finger high into the air, surrounded by the noise of nearly 20,000 strong, and I remember that moment, and I STARE at that photo, at Steph, at OUR Steph, and I look at the one on the front of USA Today, the one where he's hugging Thomas, and I look at his face, I STARE at his face, and I can't stop, and I think that's because what I see is absolute, unfettered, childlike joy.
He is the kind of face America loves to love. He was readymade for all of this: the little-guy story, the local-kid-made-good story, the father-son story with his NBA dad Dell. He's accessible, he's approachable, he's attractive. He signs backs of T-shirts, he gets pictures taken with folks' kids, he points up high when he does something good. He praises his teammates for getting him open and finding him shots and he means it.
He was all of this waiting to happen.
Wins over Gonzaga and Georgetown? A spot in the Sweet 16? That wasn't totally predictable.
But the publicity and the attention that's coming from it once this DID happen? That much was.
The other night, after driving from Raleigh to Davidson, I re-read that Charlotte magazine story from last fall.
"So," I wrote toward the end of the piece. "Stephen Curry."
Just listen to this stuff now. It's somehow simultaneously prescient and quaint.
"Around campus, important people like the athletic director and the new president like to talk about how he's such a good kid, and how he's part of the 'fabric,' and that's nice.
"The Davidson coaches use different words when they talk about him.
"McKillop: 'vision,' 'balanced,' 'gifted.' Matt Matheny, the longtime associate head coach, uses two more:
"Fearless."
"Jugular."
Then this: "He also, say the coaches, has some inner assassin. He hunts the big shot, and the big stage, and he has that unteachable something that allows him to miss a shot, two, three … but the next one? It's going in. …"
I think of the Georgetown game. Two-for-eight in the first half. Three more misses to start the second. Then 25 of his 30 points in the last 14 minutes and 24 seconds. He can't even explain it.
"He is the kid who can keep the Lake Norman newcomers coming to Belk Arena, and people in Charlotte, too," I wrote last fall. "He is, ultimately, the face of McKillop's rallying cry going into this huge season: 'Embrace the bullseye,' the coach has said over and over.
"What he is, for Davidson, at Davidson, is the son of arguably the most beloved basketball player in the history of the city of Charlotte. What that means, according to Jim Murphy, the athletic director, is this: 'Everybody that liked Dell now likes Steph. Which is a lot of people.' Which gets back to the premise at the start of this story. Stephen Curry could be the Davidson basketball program's most important player ever."
Now, some six months later, here we are.
What Steph has BECOME is the face of the college as a whole.
He is the biggest single reason guys from the Raleigh News & Observer and the New York Post are writing that Davidson does things the right way and that if they had to do it all over again they would want to come to Davidson. He is the biggest single reason Dick "Hoops" Weiss of the New York Daily News was on campus on Monday and couldn't stop talking about this "hidden gem." He is the biggest single reason applications almost certainly will go up, which means the already low acceptance rate almost certainly will go down, which means that already high academic ranking could climb. He is the biggest single reason that thousands of people – millions? – now know what Davidson is and where Davidson is. He is the biggest single reason all those people are starting to know something of what we've known all along. He is the biggest single reason Davidson, with 1,700 students, with an arena with 5,700 seats, in a town of 10,000 people, will play Friday night in Detroit at Ford Field, capacity 72,000.
And he is the biggest single reason I've been back to Davidson more times in the last six months than I had been probably in the previous six years. He is the biggest single reason I have reconnected with people I never should have lost touch with in the first place. He is the biggest single reason I have reconnected with the place I consider my home. And I am not alone.
THIS is what he's doing.
My favorite thing about him, though, is that he doesn't seem to know any of that.
On Monday, I was in the sports information office, and Steph shuffled in, dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and his sock feet, just up from a nap in the team lounge and ready for a radio interview in Toronto. He looked like a sleepy just-turned-20-year-old kid because that's what he was. He rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat and talked to Toronto.
"Everything I've ever dreamed of happening here at Davidson," he said, "it's coming true."
"We have a game coming up against Wisconsin on Friday," he said, "and we believe we can win."
The interview ended, and he got off the phone, and we sat and we talked.
I asked him what he would say about Davidson to all the people out there who are thinking about the school and the team now who were not at this time last week. He thought about that.
"It's a very small place," Steph said, "a unique place, where, I guess – the way we enjoy things all together, with everyone knowing each other, I think the joy is more real. More deep."
He speaks for so many of us.
Michael Kruse, Davidson class of 2000, is a reporter for the St. Petersburg Times. He has also written for ESPN: The Magazine and The Sporting News.
What It Means
On the first day of March, in Statesboro, Ga., after the Davidson basketball team beat Georgia Southern to finish the regular season in the Southern Conference at 20-0, I was with Steph Curry with a couple other reporters, and when he was talking to somebody else I happened to look down at his shoes, and what I saw in black Sharpie on the side of one of his Nikes was this: Romans 8:28.
"And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose."Last week, in the NCAA tournament in Raleigh, a photographer captured something similar, in the same neat script, on the side of his shoe.
"I can do all things …"So it was that on Good Friday and Easter Sunday, Steph scored against Gonzaga and Georgetown a total of 70 points, 55 of those coming in improbable second-half comebacks on the way to the Sweet 16 – and I'm trying here not to be too, TOO heavy-handed – in which the Wildcats, it could be said, rose from the dead.
Philippians 4:13.
Last fall, I wrote a long story for Charlotte magazine about this highly anticipated '07-'08 Davidson basketball season, and in that story I posited the theory that this kid, all of 19 at the time, and just turned 20 now, could at the end of his four years be the most important player in the history of Davidson basketball. That idea got stronger and stronger in the course of my reporting. Still, though, I wouldn't have voiced it in public like that if people at the school, in the president's office, in the basketball office and around the athletic department, had at all dismissed the notion when I threw it out there.
Jim Murphy, the athletic director, said it wasn't out of the question.
Bob McKillop, the basketball coach, said Steph had a chance to be a "poster boy" for the program.
Now, sitting here in the Davidson Inn, still trying to process what happened this past weekend in Raleigh, and also what it means and could mean in the future, looking at Steph on the front page of not only the Charlotte Observer but the USA Today, seeing Wildcat red on the sports front of the New York Times, scanning stories online from ESPN.com, SI.com, Yahoo! Sports, CBS SportsLine, the Washington Post, the New York Post, the New York Daily News, Newsday, the Chicago Tribune, Slate, and on and on and on, I have to say:
We all might have sold the kid short.
He might, in some ways, right now, be the most important PERSON at Davidson, basketball or otherwise, and it took him TWO years, not four.
What he did this past weekend in Raleigh was this: He scored 40 points against Gonzaga. He scored 30 points against Georgetown. He outscored Georgetown's entire team in the last 14 minutes and change on Sunday. He did things to put little Davidson in the Sweet 16 that were unbelievable even to those of us who have been trained to just about expect the unexpected with him.
But what he did, in a broader sense, and what he IS doing, and will continue to do, goes way beyond basketball, and way beyond this week heading into Friday's game against Wisconsin. Here's the thing, and I say this as a Class of 2000 Davidson grad, and also as someone who now makes a living as a reporter at the St. Petersburg Times: The small college in the cute, wee town in northern Mecklenburg County, it seems to me, always has had this institutional reticence about being too forward or loud in telling or selling its story, even as the college over the last generation or so has gone from regionally fine to nationally excellent. The thought, rooted, I think, in the school's Southern, Presbyterian makeup, is that braggarts are unbecoming.
It's as if we say, We know what we are, we know what we have. And we leave it at that.
But we want people to know.
We do.
We don't mind answering the questions. What's Davidson? Where's Davidson? But we'd really rather not have to.
And this, I think, is where Steph comes in.
Before I go any deeper, though, I should say that he's not the only guy – he's the star of the show, but he's not a one-man band.
McKillop is the perfect man for his job. He is OF this place, in a way that can come only with time, and an emotional investment and attachment, too, that for him looks like this: His older son played for him. His younger son plays for him. His daughter went to Davidson and is engaged to a Davidson man. He's more than just a coach in this community.
He is 57. Next year is his 20th year here. He's the program's all-time winningest coach and the Southern Conference's all-time winningest coach. Five NCAAs, three NITs, all those league titles, all those coach of the year awards, all those international pros he's produced. Within this sustained success, and at a really hard place to win in Division I basketball, he's the constant.
I've often thought of the Davidson basketball story as the chase of the chance. The chance to win in the NCAA tournament. The chance to beat the big boys. The chance to match the precedent set by Lefty Driesell way back in the '60s in a very different time. It's the narrative that never ends.
Within that story, though, is the story of a man, and the McKillop story, just over the last few years, I think, has begun to come into sharper focus: He came here to go somewhere else, and says so, and he ended up staying put and finding a home. He lives across the street from campus. He walks to games. His children went to the school he represents. All of this is highly, highly unusual in his mostly greedy, mercenary, job-hopping profession. And it's somehow reassuring for the rest of us who live in this go-go, more-more, what's-next world.
It's instructional and inspirational without being Chicken Soupy or sappy or overwrought.
He's where he's supposed to be.
It's practically a parable.
That sort of continuity and connection seeps into his roster. Take Thomas Sander. He's a senior this year, a captain, but toward the end of his playing career in high school in Cincinnati the thoughtful kid actually was considering not playing in college because he found the recruiting process smarmy and disheartening. McKillop, he thought, was different. Now the econ major is an anchor of a class that has won 100 games – the most of any class in the history of the program – and his trademark might be as a guy who sets screens that are awe-inspiring to those who really know what they're watching when they're watching basketball. Everybody sees Steph's shots go in. Not even close to everybody sees all the things that go into creating those shots.
There's Max Paulhus Gosselin, the selfless, tireless defender from Quebec, a guy whose effort on the court is so palpable I sometimes can't look away.
There's Andrew Lovedale, a testament to the kind of consistent development so many of McKillop's players seem to experience: He started this year as a reserve. He's ending it as a revelation.
There's Stephen Rossiter, the Staten Island son of a New York City firefighter, and I don't mean to gush here, but he's one of the nicest kids you'll ever meet.
There's Jason Richards, the point guard from the suburbs of Chicago, underrated and unflappable, a history major who wrote his thesis earlier this academic year on the African-American reaction to Jackie Robinson and the breaking of the color barrier in Major League Baseball. The first hug he got Sunday night when the bus got back from Raleigh was from Dr. Sally McMillen, his advisor, and also, I should say in the interest of full disclosure, a mentor to me, too, when I was here in school and ever since. Bill Cobb, Class of '84 and one of the Wildcats' most devoted fans, said Monday: "This is our team. It's the community's team. We all won." And I think this is what he means. I don't know Jason the way I knew the guys on the team when I was in school, not by any stretch, but I FEEL like I do, I feel like I know him, and that feeling somehow is because of things like Dr. McMillen giving him that hug. That's something we share.
During my time as a student, I wrote about the basketball team for the Davidsonian, and I started a newsletter for fans that still exists, The Wildcat Report. After graduating, though, I gradually lost touch, because I had jobs, because I lived for a while up in New York, because then I moved to Florida to work for the St. Pete Times.
Last year, though, I was coming through town in December, for the first time in what seemed like years, and to see Dr. McMillen, actually, and I called up associate head coach Matt Matheny and asked if he could get me a ticket for the UNC Charlotte game. He said sure. Left it at will call. This was very early in Steph's freshman season, and I had heard about this special player, this special kid, but I didn't really have any idea. So the Wildcats won the tip, threw it to Steph, and he shot a three, and it missed and came bouncing back to him and he picked up the ball and shot it again and it went in. This was all in, like, the first seven seconds of the game. I might be misremembering. But that's at least the way it plays in my head.
I was captivated as a graduate of Davidson.
I was captivated as a watcher of basketball.
I was captivated as a professional seeker of story.
And it was immediate. Can't really explain. Just was.
So this year I came to Charlotte for the Duke game, I went to Anaheim for the UCLA game, I was in Davidson for weekends when I could get away, I was in Charleston twice, I was in Statesboro. When I wasn't at games – I do, after all, live in Tampa, and have a job that I love and would like to keep – I listened to John Kilgo and Logan Kosmalski on the Internet radio broadcast. I started clicking refresh way too often on the message board at DavidsonCats.com.
Then came Easter weekend in Raleigh.
"There's a lot of joy going through my body," Jason said after Gonzaga.
After Georgetown, McKillop, standing in a hallway under the RBC Center stands, talked about the first moments with his team after the game in the locker room. He talked about joy too. "We just laughed, we just laughed," he said, "because of the joy we felt for each other and our program."
And then there was Steph.
I look at the photo that ran huge on 5C of the Observer sports section on Monday, with him running down the court, one finger high into the air, surrounded by the noise of nearly 20,000 strong, and I remember that moment, and I STARE at that photo, at Steph, at OUR Steph, and I look at the one on the front of USA Today, the one where he's hugging Thomas, and I look at his face, I STARE at his face, and I can't stop, and I think that's because what I see is absolute, unfettered, childlike joy.
He is the kind of face America loves to love. He was readymade for all of this: the little-guy story, the local-kid-made-good story, the father-son story with his NBA dad Dell. He's accessible, he's approachable, he's attractive. He signs backs of T-shirts, he gets pictures taken with folks' kids, he points up high when he does something good. He praises his teammates for getting him open and finding him shots and he means it.
He was all of this waiting to happen.
Wins over Gonzaga and Georgetown? A spot in the Sweet 16? That wasn't totally predictable.
But the publicity and the attention that's coming from it once this DID happen? That much was.
The other night, after driving from Raleigh to Davidson, I re-read that Charlotte magazine story from last fall.
"So," I wrote toward the end of the piece. "Stephen Curry."
Just listen to this stuff now. It's somehow simultaneously prescient and quaint.
"Around campus, important people like the athletic director and the new president like to talk about how he's such a good kid, and how he's part of the 'fabric,' and that's nice.
"The Davidson coaches use different words when they talk about him.
"McKillop: 'vision,' 'balanced,' 'gifted.' Matt Matheny, the longtime associate head coach, uses two more:
"Fearless."
"Jugular."
Then this: "He also, say the coaches, has some inner assassin. He hunts the big shot, and the big stage, and he has that unteachable something that allows him to miss a shot, two, three … but the next one? It's going in. …"
I think of the Georgetown game. Two-for-eight in the first half. Three more misses to start the second. Then 25 of his 30 points in the last 14 minutes and 24 seconds. He can't even explain it.
"He is the kid who can keep the Lake Norman newcomers coming to Belk Arena, and people in Charlotte, too," I wrote last fall. "He is, ultimately, the face of McKillop's rallying cry going into this huge season: 'Embrace the bullseye,' the coach has said over and over.
"What he is, for Davidson, at Davidson, is the son of arguably the most beloved basketball player in the history of the city of Charlotte. What that means, according to Jim Murphy, the athletic director, is this: 'Everybody that liked Dell now likes Steph. Which is a lot of people.' Which gets back to the premise at the start of this story. Stephen Curry could be the Davidson basketball program's most important player ever."
Now, some six months later, here we are.
What Steph has BECOME is the face of the college as a whole.
He is the biggest single reason guys from the Raleigh News & Observer and the New York Post are writing that Davidson does things the right way and that if they had to do it all over again they would want to come to Davidson. He is the biggest single reason Dick "Hoops" Weiss of the New York Daily News was on campus on Monday and couldn't stop talking about this "hidden gem." He is the biggest single reason applications almost certainly will go up, which means the already low acceptance rate almost certainly will go down, which means that already high academic ranking could climb. He is the biggest single reason that thousands of people – millions? – now know what Davidson is and where Davidson is. He is the biggest single reason all those people are starting to know something of what we've known all along. He is the biggest single reason Davidson, with 1,700 students, with an arena with 5,700 seats, in a town of 10,000 people, will play Friday night in Detroit at Ford Field, capacity 72,000.
And he is the biggest single reason I've been back to Davidson more times in the last six months than I had been probably in the previous six years. He is the biggest single reason I have reconnected with people I never should have lost touch with in the first place. He is the biggest single reason I have reconnected with the place I consider my home. And I am not alone.
THIS is what he's doing.
My favorite thing about him, though, is that he doesn't seem to know any of that.
On Monday, I was in the sports information office, and Steph shuffled in, dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and his sock feet, just up from a nap in the team lounge and ready for a radio interview in Toronto. He looked like a sleepy just-turned-20-year-old kid because that's what he was. He rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat and talked to Toronto.
"Everything I've ever dreamed of happening here at Davidson," he said, "it's coming true."
"We have a game coming up against Wisconsin on Friday," he said, "and we believe we can win."
The interview ended, and he got off the phone, and we sat and we talked.
I asked him what he would say about Davidson to all the people out there who are thinking about the school and the team now who were not at this time last week. He thought about that.
"It's a very small place," Steph said, "a unique place, where, I guess – the way we enjoy things all together, with everyone knowing each other, I think the joy is more real. More deep."
He speaks for so many of us.
Michael Kruse, Davidson class of 2000, is a reporter for the St. Petersburg Times. He has also written for ESPN: The Magazine and The Sporting News.
Of Dead DVRs and Sweet 16 Victories!
I couldn't watch Davidson live due to a work commitment. The minute it was over, I literally hopped over the furniture in my house and ran at the TV. To my dismay, the stupid DVR HAD NOT TAPED THE GAME!!! I checked it twice and the little light was on but it didn't save the recording.
Grrrrr....
However, if I couldn't watch my boys destroy Wisconsin's supposed "boa constrictor" defense...what's that, Mike? I couldn't hear you - Wisconsin has held tournament foes to how many points the first two rounds?...then at least I could take comfort in the fact that the Cats won, and won handily.
Grrrrr....
However, if I couldn't watch my boys destroy Wisconsin's supposed "boa constrictor" defense...what's that, Mike? I couldn't hear you - Wisconsin has held tournament foes to how many points the first two rounds?...then at least I could take comfort in the fact that the Cats won, and won handily.
ELITE 8-BOUND, BABY!
HEAR US ROAR!
HEAR US ROAR!
Monday, March 24, 2008
And 100% Reason To Remember The Name
AWESOME highlights videos (courtesy of The Davidson Show) from Rounds 1 and 2 of the NCAA Tournament. And of course they had to include the team celebrating victory with a rousing version of "Sweet Caroline" (which is now my ringtone).
Cats are off to Detroit and I wish I was going too!
Cats are off to Detroit and I wish I was going too!
Goodbye Gonzaga!
Hoyas, Go Home!
SO GOOD, SO GOOD, SO GOOD!
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Curry Coverage
Curry belongs in history books after another stunning performance
By Gregg Doyel
RALEIGH, N.C. -- What did I write Friday about Davidson's Stephen Curry? Whatever it was, run it back. Print it again. The same thing happened Sunday.
By Gregg Doyel
RALEIGH, N.C. -- What did I write Friday about Davidson's Stephen Curry? Whatever it was, run it back. Print it again. The same thing happened Sunday.
Two days after scoring 30 points in the second half to rally Davidson past Gonzaga, Curry scored 25 in the second half Sunday to rally the 10th-seeded Wildcats past No. 2 Georgetown.
Given the discrepancy between the size of the schools, their conference affiliation, tradition and seeding, Davidson's 74-70 victory against Georgetown has to be one of the biggest upsets in recent NCAA tournament history, right up there with George Mason's win in 2006 against Connecticut.
Individually, you'd have to go back a lot further to find a performance that deserves to be included in the same sentence, or paragraph, as the one-man show Curry put on at the RBC Center. What he did to Gonzaga on Friday, when he scored 30 of his 40 points in the second half, was one of the best individual performances by anyone, anywhere, in the NCAA tournament.
What he did Sunday was even better.
It was better because the stakes were higher and because the opponent was stronger and because of what had happened in the first half, when Georgetown allowed Curry to score just five points on 2-for-8 shooting. With less than 14½ minutes to play, Davidson trailed 48-33 and Curry still was stuck on five points. The only thing that had changed was his level of misery. With less than 14:25 remaining, Curry was 2-for-11 from the floor.
And then everything changed. For both teams. Forever.
Curry curled around a screen against pesky Georgetown defender Jeremiah Rivers. Rivers had received tips on slowing Curry from his father -- longtime NBA guard Doc Rivers, who chased Michael Jordan for years -- but there was nothing he or his father or M.J. himself could have done to stop what was about to happen. Curry caught the pass and in a nanosecond released a 23-footer that swished through the net as an official was calling a foul on Rivers. Curry added the free throw for a four-point play, cutting the Georgetown lead to 48-37 and waking up the RBC Center crowd, most of whom were dressed in North Carolina baby blue but were only too happy to support another state school.
Georgetown coach John Thompson III, as good a tactician as there is in college basketball, did little to try to stop Curry from heating up. He didn't switch defenses, only defenders. Soon freshman Austin Freeman was on Curry, but Curry buried a catch-and-shoot 3-pointer on him. Then it was another Georgetown freshman, Chris Wright, who tried to stop Curry. Didn't work. Wright fell for a pump fake and fouled Curry, who made two free throws to bring Davidson within 54-52 with 7:13 left.
Forty seconds later, the Hoyas tried something radical. Nobody guarded Curry after he slipped through the mass of men in the lane and emerged on the wing. Thompson saw what was happening from the bench and shouted, "Hey!" Didn't matter. Curry had been burying shots in taller defenders' faces for an entire season. He wasn't about to miss this open look. Georgetown's lead was 57-55.
At this point, it got plain ridiculous. Curry lost Rivers with a jab step to the outside, cut to the rim and scored in traffic. Add the foul, and it was a three-point play. Davidson now led 60-58.
Next time down, Curry beat three defenders to the rim for a scoop finish. The Hoyas led the country in field-goal defense this season, but Curry was turning them into the Keystone Cops. Add a 3-pointer less than a minute later, and Davidson led 65-60.
Davidson is one of the best teams, in every sense of the word, in the game. It runs intricate offensive sets and shares the basketball like few others, but Davidson was no longer running offense. Curry had become the offense. He finished the Hoyas off by making five free throws in the final 23.6 seconds.
Curry finished with 30 points. He scored 25 in the final 14:24. Wait a minute, let me try that sentence again:
He outscored Georgetown 25-22 in the final 14:24.
Have there been better individual performances in NCAA tournament history? Sure. Notre Dame's Austin Carr scored 61 points in a game in 1970. UCLA's Bill Walton made 21-of-22 shots in the 1973 championship game. Kentucky's Jack Givens had 41 points in the 1978 title game.
Look at the names of those teams: Notre Dame. UCLA. Kentucky.
Curry plays for Davidson. In the Southern Conference.
And Curry has done it two games in a row. Soon he will go for three.
Later this week in Detroit, Wisconsin will try to stop him in the Sweet 16. Wisconsin has one of the best defenses in the country. Three teams this season couldn't break 40 against the Badgers.
Curry might just do it by himself.
MY Super Sweet 16!
DAVIDSON WINS!!!!!
74-70 over the No. 2 Georgetown Hoyas. Steph Curry had 30 points (that's 70 total over the last 2 games, 55 of which occurred in the second half). Jason Richards contributed 20 big ones as well.
If Daddy were here, we'd have already bought tickets to Detroit to see the Cats face Wisconsin in the Sweet Sixteen!
Wowsas! What a team!
Saturday, March 22, 2008
It's A GREAT Day To Be A Wildcat!
DAVIDSON WINS!!!
Holy moly! What a game! 82-76 against Gonzaga.
Stephen Curry had 40 freakin' points!
Holy moly! What a game! 82-76 against Gonzaga.
Stephen Curry had 40 freakin' points!
I love these boys! I love my alma mater!
Next stop: Georgetown!
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
My Heart Will Always Be Yours, Honestly
I heard from an old friend today. Mike and I met in a Sports chat room on America Online years ago - I was 12 years old, he was 14. Our friendship and mutual hockey obsession soon blossomed into an online romance (before it was trendy to have one) and we kept in regular contact for a good two years, then sporadically throughout our high school and college years. We never met face-to-face. I had the chance when my family went to Chicago for a vacation, but I chickened out on him. Stupid Teeny.
We've both moved on with our lives but I randomly searched for him on Classmates.com last year, and lo and behold, there he was. I was smarting from losing my father and nostalgic for comfort, so I sent him a quick message.
Then, many months later, what do I discover in my e-mail inbox this afternoon, but a message from dear ol' Mike. It was like a breath of fresh air! I seem to have discovered a friendship that will never fade with years or distance. Whatever our romantic history, Mike had a way of making me feel completely at peace with whatever else was happening in my life. What a blessing.
I'm a lucky girl.
We've both moved on with our lives but I randomly searched for him on Classmates.com last year, and lo and behold, there he was. I was smarting from losing my father and nostalgic for comfort, so I sent him a quick message.
Then, many months later, what do I discover in my e-mail inbox this afternoon, but a message from dear ol' Mike. It was like a breath of fresh air! I seem to have discovered a friendship that will never fade with years or distance. Whatever our romantic history, Mike had a way of making me feel completely at peace with whatever else was happening in my life. What a blessing.
I'm a lucky girl.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Anniversary, Of Sorts
One year ago today, my dad called me with the dreaded words...
"I have lung cancer."
Our entire world then proceeded to turn upside down and inside out. And try as we might to keep going, one day at a time, it will never be right again.
In the words of the Grateful Dead, what a long, strange trip it's been.
"I have lung cancer."
Our entire world then proceeded to turn upside down and inside out. And try as we might to keep going, one day at a time, it will never be right again.
In the words of the Grateful Dead, what a long, strange trip it's been.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Headed To the Big Dance
Davidson WON the Southern Conference tourney in Charleston tonight. In the words of ESPN2, Davidson is the real deal!
March Madness begins! It's a GRRRRREAT day to be a Wildcat!
Sweet Caroline, WHOA WHOA WHOA!
March Madness begins! It's a GRRRRREAT day to be a Wildcat!
Sweet Caroline, WHOA WHOA WHOA!Wednesday, March 05, 2008
My Hips Don't Lie
Today Mom and I tried a new exercise class being offered at our gym...
A bit of mamba, a little o' salsa and a lot of cha cha, Instructor Eddie had us shaking our groove things for an hour straight. It was the fastest hour of cardio I have EVER experienced - what a fun way to burn almost 800 calories (yes, that's right, I said 800 calories).
Thanks to Eddie, Nancy (step class), Mel (our "Vutuko" tambourine dance teacher - another one that will kick your booty), and Abby (my amazing personal trainer), I have a rediscovered vitality and a basal metabolic rate that is about to shoot off the charts. I'm waking with the alarm at 5:30 a.m., hitting the gym with Abby or on my own, and then coming back for a class most nights of the week. I am less hungry overall and more aware of what I put into my body. I am drinking water like a fish. I am shedding the pounds.
And, best of all, I feel GRRRRRRRRRRRRREAT!
A bit of mamba, a little o' salsa and a lot of cha cha, Instructor Eddie had us shaking our groove things for an hour straight. It was the fastest hour of cardio I have EVER experienced - what a fun way to burn almost 800 calories (yes, that's right, I said 800 calories).
Thanks to Eddie, Nancy (step class), Mel (our "Vutuko" tambourine dance teacher - another one that will kick your booty), and Abby (my amazing personal trainer), I have a rediscovered vitality and a basal metabolic rate that is about to shoot off the charts. I'm waking with the alarm at 5:30 a.m., hitting the gym with Abby or on my own, and then coming back for a class most nights of the week. I am less hungry overall and more aware of what I put into my body. I am drinking water like a fish. I am shedding the pounds.
And, best of all, I feel GRRRRRRRRRRRRREAT!
Sunday, March 02, 2008
The Obama Movement
My friend Akin put together an amazing video to promote The Obama Movement, a collection of 25 essays by young people (including yours truly) about why they support Barack Obama for President.
The book is available for sale on Amazon.com. Check it out!
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Scratch That. Meet Kabi Jo.
No sooner had we decided we loved the name Zoey when my Aunt Minnie pointed out that Dad surely would have wanted the pup to have a first name that started with a "K" and the middle name of "Jo." It's a tradition for the females in our family, and as you all know by now, my father loved traditions.
We threw around tons of different names at Minnie's CAbi party. (A quick digression, for those not in the know: CAbi stands for Carol Anderson by Invitation. It is a clothing line sold through house parties, and Minnie's daughter - my cousin Lynn - is a sales consultant. Check out her website - the Spring/Summer line is WAY cute! We are having a party at our house in late April, to give me as much time as possible to get down another size or two before I blow a paycheck on a new wardrobe).
Anyway, since we were at a CAbi party, we thought "Why not name her Kabi with a 'K'?" As silly as that sounds, everyone loved it and the name stuck.
So Kabi Jo it is. We just took her in to get spayed yesterday - the poor thing is not a happy camper. But even when she's miserable, she's still as sweet and cute as can be.
Thank you, Daddy!
We threw around tons of different names at Minnie's CAbi party. (A quick digression, for those not in the know: CAbi stands for Carol Anderson by Invitation. It is a clothing line sold through house parties, and Minnie's daughter - my cousin Lynn - is a sales consultant. Check out her website - the Spring/Summer line is WAY cute! We are having a party at our house in late April, to give me as much time as possible to get down another size or two before I blow a paycheck on a new wardrobe).
Anyway, since we were at a CAbi party, we thought "Why not name her Kabi with a 'K'?" As silly as that sounds, everyone loved it and the name stuck.
So Kabi Jo it is. We just took her in to get spayed yesterday - the poor thing is not a happy camper. But even when she's miserable, she's still as sweet and cute as can be.
Thank you, Daddy!
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Meet Zoey(?)
Okay, so we haven't officially decided on a name yet, but seeing as our little Valentine's present is still around and no one else has claimed her, we're all getting very comfortable with the idea of her staying put. My sister even took her to the vet to get her shots updated and get a clean bill of health. Ladies and gentlemen, here is our 5 (or so)-year old Chihuahua mix sweetpea-of-a-dog:
With my mom and sister.
Tonight we started genuinely tossing around ideas on what to call her. We wanted something Valentine-themed, considering when we found her and in honor of the idea that Daddy had something to do with bringing her into our lives at this time. Our friend Elizabeth proposed "Corazón" (which is "heart" in Spanish) and just calling her Zoey for short. We like it.
Any other ideas, before we settle on this one?
With my mom and sister.Tonight we started genuinely tossing around ideas on what to call her. We wanted something Valentine-themed, considering when we found her and in honor of the idea that Daddy had something to do with bringing her into our lives at this time. Our friend Elizabeth proposed "Corazón" (which is "heart" in Spanish) and just calling her Zoey for short. We like it.
Any other ideas, before we settle on this one?
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Valentine From Daddy
Valentine's day was a toughie. I sent my mom flowers and we ordered sushi and just laid low for the evening. But the best part was that we have a new (but probably temporary) furry addition to the family.
Driving home from step class, we saw a little dog in the road who looked very frightened, so we pulled over to check its tags and call its owner. To our dismay, there was no collar! Although it took some coaxing, pretty soon the little sweetie was following me home and eventually allowed me to pick her up.
We called the animal shelter and they scanned her for an ID chip. Nada. So they have our contact information in case anyone calls missing their little dog. Legally the owners only have 5 days to claim her but of course we'd give her back if they tracked her down.
In the meantime, we get to keep her! It's been a joy - she is the most cuddly little dog I've ever seen. She's older, already house-trained and very obedient. People have been encouraging my mom to get a dog for months and she has always protested. But this little one is a gem so maybe, just maybe....
Our last dog Kenzie was also found wandering the streets when my dad went out for sushi. Ironically, we were headed out for sushi this time too. Not to mention the fact that we found our new little friend on February 14th. Maybe Dad managed to send us a Valentine after all...
Driving home from step class, we saw a little dog in the road who looked very frightened, so we pulled over to check its tags and call its owner. To our dismay, there was no collar! Although it took some coaxing, pretty soon the little sweetie was following me home and eventually allowed me to pick her up.
We called the animal shelter and they scanned her for an ID chip. Nada. So they have our contact information in case anyone calls missing their little dog. Legally the owners only have 5 days to claim her but of course we'd give her back if they tracked her down.
In the meantime, we get to keep her! It's been a joy - she is the most cuddly little dog I've ever seen. She's older, already house-trained and very obedient. People have been encouraging my mom to get a dog for months and she has always protested. But this little one is a gem so maybe, just maybe....
Our last dog Kenzie was also found wandering the streets when my dad went out for sushi. Ironically, we were headed out for sushi this time too. Not to mention the fact that we found our new little friend on February 14th. Maybe Dad managed to send us a Valentine after all...
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
The "D-Word"
One significant chapter of my life is coming to a close. After trying valiantly for 2.5 years, I've decided to end my marriage. The divorce process is underway and it is a bittersweet experience. Thank God I can file here in California, which does not have an antiquated law like North Carolina's about having to be physically separated for a year before even being able to petition.
The writing has been on the wall for a long time, even before my father got sick last year. Through a combination of tragic experiences, culture clashes and financial stress, we found ourselves drifting apart. And the harder we both tried to fix things, the worse it got because our methods of trying to mend fences were completely opposite. When I moved here last summer, I knew that the months apart would be the final straw.
My friend pointed out to me the other day that we got married somewhat under duress because it was either get hitched or don't be together, thanks to immigration policies that required us to say our vows within 90 days of his arrival with a K-1 fiance visa. Under "normal" circumstances, we would have lived together and realized that it just wasn't working long before I walked down that aisle.
I married him because I genuinely believed I would spend my life with him (and have ADORABLE children). I loved him then, and always will. The problems were never about disliking each other or fighting all the time. There is just a fundamental incompatibility (not only due to cultural differences) that cannot be bridged no matter how hard we have tried. Our fondness for one another is not enough to make a marriage work. But we like and respect each other enough that I hope we have laid the foundation for a lasting and fond friendship.
So what's next for Teeny Jo? I take back my maiden name (never to be legally changed again, thankyouverymuch). I focus on healing from a hell of a 2007. I keep up the healthy choices and focus on how to make sure I never again let others control my emotions and self-perception. I resume my pursuit of my vocation in nursing. I dip my toe back into the dating pool, but only ever so gingerly. That's the worst part of divorce, in my opinion. You automatically have your guard up against every new guy that comes along. I am willing to give it another go but "Caution" signs abound.
But still, 2008 continues to be the year of the Teeny. I am thankful for that.
The writing has been on the wall for a long time, even before my father got sick last year. Through a combination of tragic experiences, culture clashes and financial stress, we found ourselves drifting apart. And the harder we both tried to fix things, the worse it got because our methods of trying to mend fences were completely opposite. When I moved here last summer, I knew that the months apart would be the final straw.
My friend pointed out to me the other day that we got married somewhat under duress because it was either get hitched or don't be together, thanks to immigration policies that required us to say our vows within 90 days of his arrival with a K-1 fiance visa. Under "normal" circumstances, we would have lived together and realized that it just wasn't working long before I walked down that aisle.
I married him because I genuinely believed I would spend my life with him (and have ADORABLE children). I loved him then, and always will. The problems were never about disliking each other or fighting all the time. There is just a fundamental incompatibility (not only due to cultural differences) that cannot be bridged no matter how hard we have tried. Our fondness for one another is not enough to make a marriage work. But we like and respect each other enough that I hope we have laid the foundation for a lasting and fond friendship.
So what's next for Teeny Jo? I take back my maiden name (never to be legally changed again, thankyouverymuch). I focus on healing from a hell of a 2007. I keep up the healthy choices and focus on how to make sure I never again let others control my emotions and self-perception. I resume my pursuit of my vocation in nursing. I dip my toe back into the dating pool, but only ever so gingerly. That's the worst part of divorce, in my opinion. You automatically have your guard up against every new guy that comes along. I am willing to give it another go but "Caution" signs abound.
But still, 2008 continues to be the year of the Teeny. I am thankful for that.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Family Wedding
Saturday was a GREAT day! Not only did Obama sweep Nebraska, Louisiana, Washington, AND the U.S. Virgin Islands, but I got to attend my cousin Ashley's wedding.
It was a lovely ceremony, the bride and groom were blissfully happy (we all LOVE the groom and his family!), and there was much dancing, eating, and drinking to be had. The band was fabulous. What a party!
The fam.
Cousins!
Mr. and Mrs. "Chalmerington".
I just realized that of the many weddings I attended in Durham, most of them were as an assistant wedding director. It was great fun to be a guest for a change! I did recognize the wedding coordinators right off the bat by the frazzled looks on their faces.
The insane part is, I actually really miss that job! I'm excited to have a dear friend getting married at Duke Chapel in June, and I get to help. Just like the good ol' days!
It was a lovely ceremony, the bride and groom were blissfully happy (we all LOVE the groom and his family!), and there was much dancing, eating, and drinking to be had. The band was fabulous. What a party!
The fam.
Cousins!
Mr. and Mrs. "Chalmerington".I just realized that of the many weddings I attended in Durham, most of them were as an assistant wedding director. It was great fun to be a guest for a change! I did recognize the wedding coordinators right off the bat by the frazzled looks on their faces.
The insane part is, I actually really miss that job! I'm excited to have a dear friend getting married at Duke Chapel in June, and I get to help. Just like the good ol' days!
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Let's Go Devils!
Round 1 goes to Duke!!
I watched the game with my good friends Brent and Emily. We've known them forever - their son and I grew up together, and their daughter and my sister are still best friends.
Papa Brent 'n me...
Because they're like family, I'll forgive the fact that Em went to Carolina. :) They invited me to join them at a local sports bar, where we amicably shook hands and agreed that whoever won, neither of us would gloat. When we arrived, I realized it was a UNC alumni event!!! Needless to say, I was the only one with a smile on my face as the final minutes wound down. I'm sure I drew some ire and will probably not be invited back. But it felt so good to (quietly) cheer in a room filled with Carolina blue!
In one month and two days, the rivalry will move up Highway 15-501 to Cameron Indoor Stadium for the last game of the regular season. Oooh, will it be a doozy!!!
I watched the game with my good friends Brent and Emily. We've known them forever - their son and I grew up together, and their daughter and my sister are still best friends.
Papa Brent 'n me...Because they're like family, I'll forgive the fact that Em went to Carolina. :) They invited me to join them at a local sports bar, where we amicably shook hands and agreed that whoever won, neither of us would gloat. When we arrived, I realized it was a UNC alumni event!!! Needless to say, I was the only one with a smile on my face as the final minutes wound down. I'm sure I drew some ire and will probably not be invited back. But it felt so good to (quietly) cheer in a room filled with Carolina blue!
In one month and two days, the rivalry will move up Highway 15-501 to Cameron Indoor Stadium for the last game of the regular season. Oooh, will it be a doozy!!!
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Go To Hell, Carolina!
I may have moved back to the West Coast, but I will be a Cameron Crazie 'til the day I die!!
Tomorrow is round 1 of the Duke-Carolina rivalry. I'll be at the local sports bar with my friends (Tar Heels, horror of horrors).
It's going to be a great game!
Super Tuesday!
Waking up this morning, I was like a kid at Christmas. What a momentous day to be an American! We get to make history today.
I'll be voting for Barack Obama. For anyone who is still undecided, I encourage you to watch this video and think about who will be the best person to lead and heal our country.
But whoever you choose, GET OUT THERE AND VOTE!!
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
The Suitcase of Hope
In honor of surpassing my 30-pounds lost milestone (go me!), I thought it was time to share about my suitcase of hope...
Over the past couple of years, as I steadily gained weight thanks to the combined forces of emotional eating, depression and a complete lack of physical activity, I began stashing away some of my favorite outfits that just didn't fit anymore. When I decided to move home to California, I donated some of these clothes, threw away the ones that were old/ripped and of no use to anyone, and packed the rest of them into a suitcase that I then stored in my mother's closet. I resolved that before I moved again, I would fit back into those clothes.
I don't think I'm quite there yet. But I'm thinking perhaps it's time I start taking out one item a week and hanging it in my closet. There's nothing like wanting to fit back into a super cute outfit for a little extra motivation!
Over the past couple of years, as I steadily gained weight thanks to the combined forces of emotional eating, depression and a complete lack of physical activity, I began stashing away some of my favorite outfits that just didn't fit anymore. When I decided to move home to California, I donated some of these clothes, threw away the ones that were old/ripped and of no use to anyone, and packed the rest of them into a suitcase that I then stored in my mother's closet. I resolved that before I moved again, I would fit back into those clothes.
I don't think I'm quite there yet. But I'm thinking perhaps it's time I start taking out one item a week and hanging it in my closet. There's nothing like wanting to fit back into a super cute outfit for a little extra motivation!
Sunday, January 27, 2008
The Year of the Doctor
Someday, when I'm all grown up and have a better sense of humor about life's trials and tribulations, I will look back on these moments with a fond smile and an amused shake of my head.
But for now, I am PISSED! I woke up this morning with a roaring headache - too much wine last night, perhaps? So I took a Motrin and got on with my day. By the time I was sitting at the movies with my friend, I couldn't stop coughing. By the time I got home, I was ready to be horizontal on the couch. My entire body ached and I was burning up. Why? Because apparently I have 102-degree fever!!!!
This is the second time in my young adult life I actually got the flu vaccine, and the second year in the same time span that I have had the flu this bad. Guess when I got sick the last time? The last time I got vaccinated! That mother took almost three weeks to get over. And thus far, this one is worse.
Not that I would use my bad luck to discourage the flu vaccine. As a future health care worker, I know how important it is and I know that statistically, I was bound to get sick at some point anyway.
But I'll be damned.
But for now, I am PISSED! I woke up this morning with a roaring headache - too much wine last night, perhaps? So I took a Motrin and got on with my day. By the time I was sitting at the movies with my friend, I couldn't stop coughing. By the time I got home, I was ready to be horizontal on the couch. My entire body ached and I was burning up. Why? Because apparently I have 102-degree fever!!!!
This is the second time in my young adult life I actually got the flu vaccine, and the second year in the same time span that I have had the flu this bad. Guess when I got sick the last time? The last time I got vaccinated! That mother took almost three weeks to get over. And thus far, this one is worse.
Not that I would use my bad luck to discourage the flu vaccine. As a future health care worker, I know how important it is and I know that statistically, I was bound to get sick at some point anyway.
But I'll be damned.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Precious Angel
My cousin and his amazing wife welcomed their second daughter Madison into the world last November. She had a lot of breathing problems from the beginning and was ultimately diagnosed with campomelic dysplasia, a rare genetic disorder that is usually fatal before age 1.
Madison had been home for a while before she was readmitted to the hospital about a week ago and was then moved to a beautiful pediatric hospice facility called George Mark Children's House. It's the kind of place I'd like to work at some day when I become a nurse.
Here is a video of her and her older sister Makayla right before she went back in the hospital...
After 2 1/2 months of cherishing every moment and pouring their hearts into their family, they said farewell to precious little Madison this morning. She passed away in her mother's arms, surrounded by her father and brave big sister.
As the second major tragedy to affect my father's side of the family in less than a year, this one hit everyone hard.
But the love and strength of my family take my breath away. We are truly blessed to have each other...
Madison had been home for a while before she was readmitted to the hospital about a week ago and was then moved to a beautiful pediatric hospice facility called George Mark Children's House. It's the kind of place I'd like to work at some day when I become a nurse.
Here is a video of her and her older sister Makayla right before she went back in the hospital...
After 2 1/2 months of cherishing every moment and pouring their hearts into their family, they said farewell to precious little Madison this morning. She passed away in her mother's arms, surrounded by her father and brave big sister.
As the second major tragedy to affect my father's side of the family in less than a year, this one hit everyone hard.
But the love and strength of my family take my breath away. We are truly blessed to have each other...
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Creaky Knees
So I decided today that since I've been working so hard and seeing good results, I was ready for the infamous "Step and Sculpt with Nancy" class at the gym. My mom and sister, who are regulars, as well as Nancy herself, have all been encouraging me to come for the last couple weeks. So my boss and I decided we would try it together.
Well, it kicked my a**!!! I'm going to hurt in entirely new places tomorrow. She dumbed it down for us and I still missed a bunch of steps.
But boy am I addicted to the endorphin rush that follows a good workout! And I am sure as hell going back Thursday for the next class. The combination of fitness, coordination and balance is a fantastic challenge, especially considering that she also throws in a good 20 minutes of strength training and ab work at the end. What I loved is that when she could see we were getting tired, she exclaimed "Yes you can!" and it gave us that extra bit of motivation to finish a sequence or keep doing those impossible arm lifts.
Tomorrow morning Ari and I begin our twice-weekly morning walk routine. Gotta keep it up - spring is just around the corner. And nursing school soon after, which will take a lot of physical strength and endurance!
Coming soon: a blog about my "suitcase of hope".
Well, it kicked my a**!!! I'm going to hurt in entirely new places tomorrow. She dumbed it down for us and I still missed a bunch of steps.
But boy am I addicted to the endorphin rush that follows a good workout! And I am sure as hell going back Thursday for the next class. The combination of fitness, coordination and balance is a fantastic challenge, especially considering that she also throws in a good 20 minutes of strength training and ab work at the end. What I loved is that when she could see we were getting tired, she exclaimed "Yes you can!" and it gave us that extra bit of motivation to finish a sequence or keep doing those impossible arm lifts.
Tomorrow morning Ari and I begin our twice-weekly morning walk routine. Gotta keep it up - spring is just around the corner. And nursing school soon after, which will take a lot of physical strength and endurance!
Coming soon: a blog about my "suitcase of hope".
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Paradise Found
Photos from our adventures - actually, lazy days - on Lana'i...
Hula performance in the Kailani Terrace.
Family moment to match one of our favorite pictures of Daddy...Shaka!
Hula performance in the Kailani Terrace.
Sunset view from our hotel room...
Beautiful Mommy
Headed home :( This plane was awfully small and it was awfully windy that day!
Hyfrydol
Something amazing happened this morning when I went back to church, as I had resolved to do.
After stopping by the cemetery to wish my father a good morning, I headed over to my aunt's Presbyterian church nearby. Our own neighborhood church, where I attended Vacation Bible School and "Preparing for Adolescence" classes, is a little (okay, a lot) on the conservative side and I have wanted for a long time to try something different. I certainly found it.
A progressive, "green" church in a beautiful new building, it is headed by a justice-minded minister whose sermon content reminded me of the pastor back at my beloved church during my college days. The music was gorgeous, the people were welcoming, and it just felt so good to be back.
But by far the most profound moment of the day was the processional hymn: "Love Divine, All Loves Excelling". In the Hyfrydol tune by Rowland H. Pritchard. The exact tune to which I walked down the aisle arm-in-arm with my father on my wedding day. Just as I did when we sang "Joy To the World" at Christmas Eve, I teared up and knew Dad was there.
Out of the hundreds of possible hymns to sing my first day back in church, the appointed song was perfect. The morning was perfect. Daddy would have loved it. I sure did.
After stopping by the cemetery to wish my father a good morning, I headed over to my aunt's Presbyterian church nearby. Our own neighborhood church, where I attended Vacation Bible School and "Preparing for Adolescence" classes, is a little (okay, a lot) on the conservative side and I have wanted for a long time to try something different. I certainly found it.
A progressive, "green" church in a beautiful new building, it is headed by a justice-minded minister whose sermon content reminded me of the pastor back at my beloved church during my college days. The music was gorgeous, the people were welcoming, and it just felt so good to be back.
But by far the most profound moment of the day was the processional hymn: "Love Divine, All Loves Excelling". In the Hyfrydol tune by Rowland H. Pritchard. The exact tune to which I walked down the aisle arm-in-arm with my father on my wedding day. Just as I did when we sang "Joy To the World" at Christmas Eve, I teared up and knew Dad was there.
Out of the hundreds of possible hymns to sing my first day back in church, the appointed song was perfect. The morning was perfect. Daddy would have loved it. I sure did.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Porque, Queso?
Well I may be against the concept of "blowing it" as far as healthy eating is concerned, but that doesn't mean I can't kick myself when I forget/overlook the fact that I no longer have a gallbladder.
Tonight we dined with my aunt and uncle at our favorite hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant. The best margaritas in town! For some reason I was all over the free chips. Then my uncle ordered a big plate of extremely cheesy nachos with guacamole. Yum! I gobbled those puppies down like there was no tomorrow. As did everyone else. By the time our actual dinner came (which I smartly shared with my mom), we were all stuffed.
And then my body rebelled. "Teenyjo, how the hell can I digest this stuff without a gallbladder?" it scolded. We had to cut the festivities short because my stomach couldn't take it anymore.
The way I see it, my gallbladder removal was like an insurance policy against making unhealthy food decisions. And tonight, my premiums went up. But I'll drink some water and take a long walk in the morning, and all will be well.
Next time, just say no to nachos! Feeling this crappy is enough of a deterrent!!
Tonight we dined with my aunt and uncle at our favorite hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant. The best margaritas in town! For some reason I was all over the free chips. Then my uncle ordered a big plate of extremely cheesy nachos with guacamole. Yum! I gobbled those puppies down like there was no tomorrow. As did everyone else. By the time our actual dinner came (which I smartly shared with my mom), we were all stuffed.
And then my body rebelled. "Teenyjo, how the hell can I digest this stuff without a gallbladder?" it scolded. We had to cut the festivities short because my stomach couldn't take it anymore.
The way I see it, my gallbladder removal was like an insurance policy against making unhealthy food decisions. And tonight, my premiums went up. But I'll drink some water and take a long walk in the morning, and all will be well.
Next time, just say no to nachos! Feeling this crappy is enough of a deterrent!!
Friday, January 18, 2008
Metabolic Miracle
So I knew I was going to gain weight in Hawaii - all those alcohol calories have to go somewhere (see below). But thanks to a commitment to exercise daily on my vacation, the scale only tipped a few extra pounds the day I came home.
And to my delight and surprise, as of this morning, I'm already back to where I started before Hawaii. This working out regularly and eating healthy thing has done wonders for my metabolism and I can just feel the energy!
One thing I learned last year...never let someone else dictate your happiness. Since I know I'm an emotional eater, I have to be hyper-aware of how I let situations and people affect me.
And if you're in a crappy mood, go for a walk instead of reaching for a cookie!
And to my delight and surprise, as of this morning, I'm already back to where I started before Hawaii. This working out regularly and eating healthy thing has done wonders for my metabolism and I can just feel the energy!
One thing I learned last year...never let someone else dictate your happiness. Since I know I'm an emotional eater, I have to be hyper-aware of how I let situations and people affect me.
And if you're in a crappy mood, go for a walk instead of reaching for a cookie!
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Kicking and Screaming
That was my state of mind as I packed and prepared to return home from my new favorite Hawaiian island: Lana'i! Goodbye tropical air, hello marine layer. Alas, real life is not wasting any time, as I have to be back at work tomorrow morning.
Our trip consisted of hikes, great snorkeling in Hulopo'e Bay, a visit to the fabulous spa for an afternoon, venturing to Lana'i "City" (Population: 3,000), lots of fantastic seafood (and the discovery of how many things taste amazing with truffle oil - YUM), and lots of sitting by the pool and soaking in the tropical breezes and bright sunlight. Just what the doctor ordered!
I had two goals for the vacation and I am proud to say I met both of them. The first was to exercise daily. I even did this morning before we checked out! My original thought was that I would love not to gain any weight while away, but I quickly realized how unrealistic that would be given the combination of regular restaurant food and gazillions of calories consumed via alcohol.
Which brings me to my next goal: from the time we checked in to the time we were homeward bound, I was determined not to have the same beverage more than once. Although the mantra "When in Hawai'i, drink mai tais" certainly makes sense, I thought it would make me more adventurous and bring me home with some new concoctions to try when I'm out with friends. I don't normally drink much, but it was certainly fun to have a taste of what turned out to be a DELICIOUS array...
Pictures to come, I promise...
Our trip consisted of hikes, great snorkeling in Hulopo'e Bay, a visit to the fabulous spa for an afternoon, venturing to Lana'i "City" (Population: 3,000), lots of fantastic seafood (and the discovery of how many things taste amazing with truffle oil - YUM), and lots of sitting by the pool and soaking in the tropical breezes and bright sunlight. Just what the doctor ordered!
I had two goals for the vacation and I am proud to say I met both of them. The first was to exercise daily. I even did this morning before we checked out! My original thought was that I would love not to gain any weight while away, but I quickly realized how unrealistic that would be given the combination of regular restaurant food and gazillions of calories consumed via alcohol.
Which brings me to my next goal: from the time we checked in to the time we were homeward bound, I was determined not to have the same beverage more than once. Although the mantra "When in Hawai'i, drink mai tais" certainly makes sense, I thought it would make me more adventurous and bring me home with some new concoctions to try when I'm out with friends. I don't normally drink much, but it was certainly fun to have a taste of what turned out to be a DELICIOUS array...
- Ocean Blue
- Mango-Ginger Mojito
- Hulapo'e Punch
- Orange Passion Mimosa
- Lava Flow
- Chocolate Martini
- Mai Tai
- Pinot Grigio
- Whiskey Sour
- Extra dirty gin martini
- Pinot Noir
- Lemon Twist
- Pineapple Margarita
- Kona Cappucino Freeze
- Cosmopolitan
- Bikini Bellini
- Champagne
- Bloody Mary
Pictures to come, I promise...
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Aloha!
And we're off, folks! I promise to post pictures when I get back from the beautiful island of Lana'i.
Have a safe and happy weekend and don't do anything I wouldn't do....
Have a safe and happy weekend and don't do anything I wouldn't do....
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Say Wha'?
Not quite sure where this Hillary win in New Hampshire came from, but I'm determined not to let it get me down. There is a long way to go... :) And it was a super narrow margin so that's a good sign.
Not to mention that I only have one more day of work before I fly off to do the hula, swim with dolphins and sip mai tais on the beach. Nice!
Not to mention that I only have one more day of work before I fly off to do the hula, swim with dolphins and sip mai tais on the beach. Nice!
Monday, January 07, 2008
Vacation, All I Ever Wanted
All I have to do is get through the next three days! Then Thursday morning, the fam heads to the airport and jets off to HAWAII!! I have been awaiting this vacation eagerly since we booked our tickets last fall. We chose to stay on Lana'i because it's a small island with not a whole lot to do, which is exactly the point. This is an escape as well as an adventure; we haven't gotten out of town since Catalina in August and it's time...
My goals for the trip include visiting the gym at least once a day for a good solid workout, reading a lot, eating fresh fruit and seafood morning, noon and night, and finding all of the beverages the hotel serves with little umbrellas. And taking pictures, which I will make sure to post here (at least a few).
In the spirit of vacation indulgence, here's a little ditty from Fit for Life that I found appropriate. And timely - it used to be that if I was naughty and ate something bad for me, I gave up on being healthy for the next several weeks, if not months. But now I'm noticing a new philosophy emerge. For example, I stayed over at a friend's house Saturday night and she ordered a pizza at midnight because she had a craving. Did I eat some of the pizza? Yes. Did I hate myself afterward? No. I went home the next morning, took a long walk with my mom and aunt, and was back to my normal habits. I might have gained a pound with the "slip" but I'll lose it quickly and I don't feel like giving up this time. That's a huge victory in and of itself.
So without further ado, Victoria Moran:
The scenario is, "I ate a [cookie, potato chip, candy bar]. I blew it. So now I have to eat for three days and be really miserable." Remember: there is nothing to blow. You are not on a diet. You had a cookie. Fine. I hope it tasted good. ... The blowing it concept is a setup. It's a mind game overeaters play to give themselves permission to eat for a fix. If you blow it, you have to throw in the towel. Give up. Wallow in remorse. Then you have to face the daunting prospect of starting over: a new diet, another exercise regiment, another monumental undertaking.
My intent for this vacation is not to "blow it." But if I do reach for that dessert plate one night, life is not over. And it feels really good to know that.
My goals for the trip include visiting the gym at least once a day for a good solid workout, reading a lot, eating fresh fruit and seafood morning, noon and night, and finding all of the beverages the hotel serves with little umbrellas. And taking pictures, which I will make sure to post here (at least a few).
In the spirit of vacation indulgence, here's a little ditty from Fit for Life that I found appropriate. And timely - it used to be that if I was naughty and ate something bad for me, I gave up on being healthy for the next several weeks, if not months. But now I'm noticing a new philosophy emerge. For example, I stayed over at a friend's house Saturday night and she ordered a pizza at midnight because she had a craving. Did I eat some of the pizza? Yes. Did I hate myself afterward? No. I went home the next morning, took a long walk with my mom and aunt, and was back to my normal habits. I might have gained a pound with the "slip" but I'll lose it quickly and I don't feel like giving up this time. That's a huge victory in and of itself.
So without further ado, Victoria Moran:
The scenario is, "I ate a [cookie, potato chip, candy bar]. I blew it. So now I have to eat for three days and be really miserable." Remember: there is nothing to blow. You are not on a diet. You had a cookie. Fine. I hope it tasted good. ... The blowing it concept is a setup. It's a mind game overeaters play to give themselves permission to eat for a fix. If you blow it, you have to throw in the towel. Give up. Wallow in remorse. Then you have to face the daunting prospect of starting over: a new diet, another exercise regiment, another monumental undertaking.
My intent for this vacation is not to "blow it." But if I do reach for that dessert plate one night, life is not over. And it feels really good to know that.
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