We're in talks for getting braces for Ethen, and of course, part of that talk is cost. J and I were comparing our expectations to the actual estimate, and I told him how much my braces had cost as a reference. Then I did the math and said, "But that was 20 years ago."
That was 20 years ago.
That was 20 years ago.
I still remember the day I got my braces on. It was one of the mornings that we took the 6th grade TAAS test. I got to Mrs. Bertelli's room late and still finished my test in the allotted time. That night, my sweet mother made my favorites: steak in California marinade, baked potatoes, and cowboy beans. I could barely eat any of it. : ( But I had promised myself that since my parents were making huge efforts for me to have braces (for 3.5 years, no less), I would never complain to them about my teeth hurting. So instead I said I just wanted to eat teeny tiny bites and swallow without much chewing. From then on, our "code" was that I was hungry for soup.
How could anything have been TWENTY years ago??
Throwback Thursday Bonus Round! Every time I think of Mrs. Bertelli (which is less often than you'd expect), I remember when classmate Sonny Lazo matter-of-factly said to her, "Mrs. Bertelli, you're mediocre." And he didn't even get in trouble since he properly used a vocabulary word.
Any time I hear "Pace picante sauce," I think of Stephanie Love and smile.
We went to junior high and high school together. We didn't really "run in the same circles" (as my mom would say), but Stephanie is a social butterfly who is very friendly to everyone, and we were in the same Athletics classes together.
In order to qualify for junior high Girls' Athletics (which is more focused than general P.E.), you had to be able to run one mile in less than ten minutes. So during class one day at the beginning of the school year, we all tried out by running a mile around the quarter-mile track.
We were split into two heats. Everyone had a partner in the opposite heat. Your partner was supposed to keep count of your laps, listen for your times, and cheer you on. Stephanie was my partner.
Every time I crossed the finish line, Stephanie would jump, clap, whoop, shuffle sideways, and yell.
"C'mon, Angela! You can do it! Pick up the pace!! Pace picante sauce!!"
Oh, and did I mention that she was a cheerleader?
My cousin Rebecca graduated from high school last weekend. It was really fun to see her so excited. And MAN, my family can yell loud!
Being at Rebecca's graduation (which was held at my high school's football field) reminded me of my graduation and how young she must have been then.
May 20, 2000.
I had completely forgotten about this until last weekend.
When I was little, my mom had a "no whining" rule. It went like this:
me: Mo-o-o-o-o-om! She got more iiiiiiiice creeeeeeam than meeeeee!!
Mom: Angela, I can't understand you when you whine. If you want to tell me something, you need to speak in a normal tone of voice.
me: Okay. [deep steadying breath] Well, she got more ice cream than me and it's juuust not faaaaaiiir...
Mom: Angela Nicole, go to your room until you can talk without whining!
me: Buuuut whyyyyyy...
Mom: Because I said so!
Last weekend, I made a quick trip to League City to work on some tax returns.
me: Okay Mom, I need your prior year tax return.
Mom [digging in a file cabinet]: Okay, it should be...well, it's not heeeeeere!
me: It's not there?
Mom: Awwwww, I don't know wherrrrrrre I puuuuuuut iiiiiit!
me: Mother, I can't understand you when you whine!
This is my mother.
Meme & Papa's old house on Lilac, Christmas let's-call-it-1984 because her hair looks about the same as in this picture. Maybe even Christmas 1983.
As you can see, she's ecstatic over what looks like $100.
For reference, this is about $226 today adjusted for inflation. Yes, I Googled it. No one should be surprised by that.
Last February, I was trying to snag the apartment but my money was tied up because of the divorce. I had the cash, but all of my efforts to get to it were taking a looooooong time. So my mom let me borrow my rent. It was more than $226. She also made me promise that if I needed anything more, I would ask or else I was grounded. Not wanting to be grounded as soon as I got my own apartment, I agreed. : )
Last weekend, I paid her back.
She started crying.
her (a little startled): You can keep it...
me: I don't need it.
me: Are you crying? Why are you crying?
her: I don't know.
me: Mom, I told you I would pay you back.
her: I know.
me: This is me paying you back.
her: I know.
me: Mom, I told you I would ask if I needed anything. And I don't need this anymore.
me: Mom, this isn't because I don't WANT your help or because I'm ungrateful. This is because you raised me to be responsible and self-sufficient. I'm able to pay you back because you taught me so well. I'm thanking you by being who you raised me to be.
me. I appreciate it, and I love you.
her: Okay. I love you, too.
me: Also, I didn't calculate interest on that.
her: What?! You're grounded!
Judging from the Christmas 1984 money eyes, I would've thought she'd be happy! Geez!!
So remember how I told you (here) that there was immense pressure on my cousin Erin to be an Aggie since her mother and my mother were are Aggies? Well, I found proof.
My cousin Erin:
BB & Royce's kitchen before it was remodeled. 1992.
She currently goes to Texas Women's University.
This might be a little deep, but I feel compelled to to say it out loud.
One night my sophomore year in college, I was walking home to my apartment just off campus, and I got spooked. It was probably 9:00 at night, and it wasn't uncommon to walk around campus after dark. In fact, I did it a lot and generally felt very safe. There was no particular reason that I should have been on edge that night. But I was. It was all I could do to force myself to keep walking forward - don't turn around and look for someone in the shadows, and don't start running.
To calm myself down, I started singing this song that I had just learned:
I will run to the cleft of the mountain and wait for you.
Will you come and meet with me?
I will wait at the cleft of the mountain for you to pass by.
Will you come and meet with me?
And oh, what a joy it would be,
just for a moment to lay at the feet of the Lord!
More than anything, that's what I long for.
And oh, what a change it would bring,
just to look deep in the face of the King who gave all!
You gave everything so you could meet with me.
Will you meet with me?
I have found myself singing this song numerous times over the years when I feel like I'm about to fall over the cleft of the mountain. Sometimes as I'm checking the dark empty house for burglars and sometimes as I'm crying myself to sleep.
During these times when this song pops into my mind, the lyrics are absolutely true for me. I don't need to curl up in His lap, I just need to lay at His feet. If only the Lord would pass by, I would be comforted. I just need one moment of unconditional love and safety.
BAH ha haaa ha haaa haa haaaa!
There are two possible reactions my mother will have when she reads the title of this post.
1. She'll be so disgusted, she won't even click on it!
2. She'll say outloud (even though we're not currently even in the same state), "Angela Nicole!"
Hee heeee. Ahhhhh.
This is a spread from my totally random times mini album. You can click on the photo for a closer look.
The left side is sweet. The right side is sinister (insert evil laugh here).
My mother is a serious Aggie. So is her middle sister, Deborah. Her youngest sister Jennifer is a Longhorn. So is Jennifer's husband. So is the sisters' dad. So, two Aggies and three Longhorns and everyone has their sides. : )
My sweet cousin Erin is the eight-year-old in the middle of the photo. (Aren't those pink cheeks adorable?) That's Mom on the left and me on the right. Erin's mother is Deborah, an Aggie. So Erin was raised to know that being an Aggie is good and being a Longhorn is bad.
So now here I am drinking out of the Longhorn cup that my mother won't even touch AND flashing the horns sign AND trying to corrupt my sweet innocent cousin!! I'm supposed to be an Aggie ally!! And she is simply trying to prevent Erin from going down the path of darkness.
At least, that's how my mother would describe it.
I think I've reverted to calling her "mother" knowing that she's calling me "Angela Nicole." Hmph.
The funniest part to me is that my mom still has that shirt. Yes. Fourteen years later.
Hook 'em, Horns! Sic 'em, Bears!
It's in his kiiiiss, that's where it is!
Oh yeah! It's in his kiiiiss. That's where it is!
Sonia, Bethanie, Andrea, and I performed this song at the Spring Pop Show my freshman year in high school.
And we choreographed a dance. : )
You remember 'N Sync, right? Beginning of freshman year, they were everywhere. My roommate Elizabeth sang "Bye Bye Bye" on repeat. And she did the dance. Of course she knew the dance. She tried to teach it to me in our itty-bitty three-person room on the 3'x5' rug that she spilled red nail polish on.
Elizabeth: Shoot me hate me but it ain't no lie! Baby BYE BYE BYYYYYE!!!
Me: I think it's "You may hate me..." not "shoot me, hate me..."
Elizabeth: Oh! I get it! I meant...I thought she wanted to shoot him, cuz you know, she hates him!
She is from East Texas, complete with a thick accent, tall blond hair, and perfect timing on when to insert polite laughter. She's very charming and laughs at herself better than anyone I know, so it's impossible to be mad at her.
But it's oh-so-fun to make her mad...[this is turning into quite a tangent...]
You remember AOL Instant Messenger, right? Beginning of freshman year, it was everywhere. Elizabeth and I would frequently be at our desks on AIM late into the night. Sometimes we would chat through AIM instead of talking because it's just funny to message when you're literally sitting two feet apart.
Whenever you got a new message, your cursor would automatically move to that new box, so you'd either have to quit typing and click the box you were previously typing in, or if you weren't paying attention (which Elizabeth never was), you'd accidentally send your message to the new person. I'd send her new messages until she verbally said, "Angela! Quiiiiiiit!" Hee hee.
That's as mean as I get. Well, except for showing this...
Song: "Bye Bye Bye" by 'N Sync.
Sigh. My tragic hair cut was still in tact for this photo.
Chin up, girl. You won't always look like a boy. : /
Song: "Mama's Broken Heart" by Miranda Lambert. This is doubly ironic because it DID break my mama's heart.
Bahh haaa haaaa haaaa haaaaa.
So it's August and officially "song lyrics for blog titles month." This is the fourth annual!! Sometimes I choose a lyric that matches the photo and text, and sometimes I just make it funny.
And it's also Thursday, which means it's time for an old photo.
At Meme & Papa's old house on Lilac, circa 1983. That's the dining table in the background. I remember those chairs being very itchy. I'm not sure about the painting. It looks like the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria?
Clearly, this blog title matches the photo because it's obvious that like the song says, the ceiling could not hold me.
Song: "Can't Hold Us" by Macklemore. I'm still listening to it on repeat and love to elliptical (?) to it. (What's the verb for being on the elliptical machine? Running? Spinning? Google...Ha, according to Merriam-Webster, it's ellipticize!)
This is going to be another love letter. ; )
I met Katie Lee the first day of my freshman year at Baylor. We were alphabetically seated next to each other in Dr. Kent Gilbreath's Economics class. We hit it off pretty quickly.
Fridays in that class were the worst. Dr. Gilbreath used the Socratic method on Fridays- he would randomly select a student to stand up in front of the whole lecture hall, and he would ask one or several questions from the weekly reading. And the student had to answer loudly in front of 300 classmates including the cute guy two rows behind you who is now staring at your backside. If the student didn't say the right answer, then Dr. Gilbreath would go down the row until someone did get the right answer or until he fancied moving on.
The questions were coming down our row one Friday, and the guy to my right had to stand. And my palms were sweating and my face was hot in anticipation. And this guy didn't know the answer. And I would be next. ACK. And then Dr. Gilbreath called on someone from the back of the class. WHEW.
Katie or I never got called on, but man. The fear was there!
Dr. Gilbreath invited all of his students to a hike on his ranch before finals. (He also invited anyone who wasn't going home for Thanksgiving to come to his family's house.) Katie and I went on the hike together and had a great time.
Katie is the kind of person who is always truly excited to see you, like you're a breath of fresh air. She's the kind of person who you want to talk to or just sit with at the end of an awful day. She's so kind and warm and generous. She's an amazing Christian, and we pushed each other a lot in that regard. And she's gorgeous. Ha, I remember thinking multiple times that I needed to ask her where she got her jeans because they looked so good on her. I finally realized that it wasn't the jeans, it was her!
Katie and I stayed pretty close through college. We hung out a lot and even talked about living together. We lost touch after college. Years later when I opened a Facebook account, I looked for her, but she wasn't there. A little while ago, I got this Facebook message.
Angela!!! Oh my goodness, I'm so excited to find you on here; I have thought of you many times over the years and wondered how you are and where you're at, what you're up to these days... hope you are well & sending a hug from Southern Oregon! (P.S. This is Katie Lee from Baylor) ; )
Ahh, Katie Lee. You make my heart happy.
I woke up this morning dreaming about tennis. Jaime and I were whooping up on some freshmen with big egos. : ) And then the memories started flooding in.
I had so much fun playing doubles with Jaime. I called her James, and she called me Andie. She had a small but fleeting temper which made her very funny. She would stomp her foot or hit her heel with her racket and say, "Ughhhhhh!" through gritted teeth. And if we got pegged at the net, we were hitting back. But she didn't take it too seriously and didn't get so upset when we weren't playing well. It was usually pretty easy to pull her out of a funk (unlike Jenalie who would internalize everything and shut down). Of course, it drove me crazy that she was a little inconsistent. She would go for these huge shots and end up hitting it out or in the net when all she had to do was get it back. I couldn't be mad at her for very long before she made me laugh or before she pulled an amazing shot out of nowhere. We laughed a lot between points while we were strategizing. She was also extremely encouraging. That was one of the great things about playing doubles together - we were always together for our singles matches, too, and she would be on the other side of the fence cheering.
I spent the night at her house one Thursday night before our tournament all day Friday. We stayed up until the early morning making pillows for travel days. Somewhere around midnight, her mom ended up helping us. She was pretty mad at us for staying up so late the night before a tournament, plus, I'm sure it didn't help that we kept laughing uncontrollably because our pillows were looking so bad. I still have mine.
I don't have any photos of us playing together, but she took these of me.
Jaime also did this flippy thing with her hair that I still do when my hair is long enough. : )