Soul Soother

Music is powerful, huh?

For the last few weeks I have been harboring that horrible, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that you get when something terrible is around the corner or you know you did something really, really stupid.

The last time I remembered seeing my ipod was on our plane ride home from Florida.

Devastation was near. I thought I had seen the last of it. I asked Jered to check and double check and triple check his luggage after looking anywhere else it could possibly be.

If it weren't for the message that Beth had found my beloved piece of technology, I would have collapsed into broken-hearted sobs after a far-fetched call to the airport to inquire about any found ipods.

Where would I be without music?

Even now, I am watching the newest rendition of Mamma Mia. I can't help but hum or sing along to every song that begins to play, and I am slightly ecstatic whenever one of the songs come up on our 70s station at work. My love for the soundtrack is closely rivaled by my love for the actress who plays Sophie's Aunt Tanya. I loooove her- she always has me in stitches from laughing so much.

I love how music can suit my mood, or even change it. I can sit and wallow listening to music, or I can be forced into uncontrollable movement. Just today, I was dancing to Michael Jackson while catching up on some filing and hoping I would hear anyone who walked by before they saw me.

Well, have no fear friends: my ipod is currently in transit. Jered mailed it to me today.

As I say farewell tonight, let me also beseech you to watch Mamma Mia if you haven't already, and pay careful attention to Tanya. You'll probably add years to your life by laughing hysterically.

Rethinking my Career Choices

Last month I came to a conclusion. Had an epiphany, if you will. I am in the wrong line of work.

This revelation came to me while we were in Florida for our family vacation.

We stepped out of the van and smelled the sweet, salty air of the ocean. After checking in, we decided against the idea of climbing the nineteen flights of stairs to our room. (I was all for doing them at least once a day, but everyone else disagreed.)

We stepped into our suite, and you would have forgotten that we were all in our 20s and older. We ran through all the rooms, squealing and exclaiming how amazing it was before running out to the balcony that overlooked the beach.

A change of clothes was an immediate necessity. The swimming suits came on, and we were out the door. We hurried down the nineteen flights of stairs, for the first and only time, stepped out the back door, walked down a short wooden walkway, and plunged our feet into the soft, white sand for the first time. It was still warm from the sun of the day and felt magical sifting between my toes.

After semi-clumsily making our way down the beach, we rushed right into the ocean. (I'm not sure we ever really acted our age on this vacation.) We laughed and coughed as we choked on the bitter saltwater. My eyes burned as I tried to rub it from my eyes. We swam and floated over the waves, and my insides squirmed as we went deeper into the water and it became dark. Stupid shark week...

If I told you about our entire vacation like this, I might as well have written a short novel. I'll simplify.

Our mornings started out nice and slow. Katie and I would roll out of an incredibly comfortable bed, meet the boys and Mom and Dad in the kitchen, and begin with a delicious breakfast of our choice. We spent most of the morning and the beginning of the afternoons at the beach. We rolled out sheet, stuck our newly-purchased beach umbrella in the sand, and unloaded our beach paraphernalia: beach pails, shovels, a net, a Frisbee, goggles, a camera, and sunscreen.

We spent the time playing Frisbee, basking in the sun until we were so warm we needed refreshing, and hunting. I'm not sure how many hours we spent ducking under the water, digging our hand into the sand or feeling across the top of it, to lift up hand fulls of small crabs and sand dollars to add to our bucket, which was crawling.

Jered, our mighty hunter, also spotted a sting ray several times, tracked a black and white striped fish, caught three comb jellyfish, and a seagull. I know... impressive, isn't he? Some evenings we went down to the beach with a flashlight to catch some rather large crabs.

We all watched the season finale of The Bachelorette. Yes, all of us. I told you I was sucked in for the season, and I'm pleased to say she chose my favorite bachelor. The other nights were often filled with Shark Week.

We ate out several times, and most tried new seafood. (I admittedly played it pretty safe in the food decisions. One oyster, and I was done with those.) We had some delicious Grouper and shrimp.

One night, Katie, Jesse, Jered, and I rented scooters for a few hours. I was a nervous wreck, but it was so fun to ride up and down the beach road at night, seeing all the lights and hearing music playing from all the outside restaurants. We walked around the tourist mall for a few hours here and there. Katie and Jesse went through a mirror maze.

We bought all kinds of souvenirs, and picked out the most touristy T shirts we could find.

Jered woke up at the crack of dawn to watch the sunrise with me. Are you as shocked as I was? We saw the dolphins swimming much closer than at any other time of the day.

So what does all of this have to do with my career choice?

Although, due to the sand and the heat, our days were peppered with several more showers than usual, we never got tired or annoyed by the hassles of the beach. Although we each got sunburned at least once, we never dreaded the sun. Although the salt burned our eyes and throats, we never shied away from the water. Although we watched Shark Week every night, we never stayed out of the deep for long. Although our calves were sore from walking through the sand, we never got tired of walking on the beach.

I've decided that my calling in life is to be a beach bum. I would be really, really excellent at it. I can play and run and soak up the sun for hours on end, and be completely content. Thinking about it now, I am yearning to be back on the sand.

Maybe I should look into working at a beach side resort...

Beautiful

So this is two weeks overdue. "The Flinkmans" now accurately describes my wonderful friends, Jeremy and Kelly. The most appropriate description I could find for the weekend of their wedding was "beautiful."

The setting was beautiful.

It was a beautiful time with friends and family.

Kelly was absolutely beautiful.

The couple shared beautiful vows.

Jessica and Beth's song was beautifully punctuated with the rumbling of thunder during the most powerful part of the song.

The boys sported their beautiful curls.

Carmen was a beautiful flower girl.

The mothers were beautiful.

If I've left anything out, I'm sorry. There were just so many beautiful moments. One of my favorite things was watching the excitement in the faces of Jeremy and Kelly as they came together to face the reality of becoming husband and wife.

It was beautiful.