7 Quick Takes Friday: Hopeful but also Not-So-Hopeful Edition

Friday, June 21, 2013

Linking up with Jen and Company today!

1. Am I the only person that now thinks this is what Kim and Kanye's baby looks like after hearing her name:

I mean really. North West. REALLY.

2. I've come to realize something about myself lately: I tend to anticipate the worst. I feel like I'm generally optimistic, but in some situations I anticipate the absolute worst-case scenario. I've also found that those situations usually involve something I feel strongly about or some matter of the heart. (Don't they always?) And when I anticipate the worst, my heart tells me to avoid whatever situation I think is going to be the one that dashes all my dreams and breaks my heart. I've come to call this the "Golden Ticket" theory. Allow me to explain: in "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory," Charlie Bucket wants a golden ticket really badly. He's a poor kid, of course, never had much luck, but really believes that he'll finally find a golden ticket. One night he goes to sleep after four of the five tickets have been found, still believing he will get the final one. However, his grandparents and parents see on the news that night that the final golden ticket has been found. The wonder if they should wake Charlie, but Grandpa Joe says no, they should let him have one more good night's sleep still hoping. (Unbeknownst to them, of course, Charlie is awake and hears.) The Golden Ticket Theory... the thing that causes me to avoid a situation where I think I'll see or find out something that will break my heart and I'll lose hope. I just want one more good night's sleep where I'm still hoping.

3. The Taliban want peace talks. Okay. As positive as that sounds, I have to admit that if I were Afghan president Karzai I am truly unsure whether or not I'd open my doors for that meeting. I think I'd be afraid I was marching to my death in a conference room.

4. So, as most know, I am the director of a local non-profit dance school and performing company. This isn't my "real job," nor does it pay. I work full-time for a magazine and I also work full-time running the studio. Needless to say, it is not always easy. Don't get me wrong, I love my students with a fierceness that I can't describe, but sometimes it can get exhausting when parents are yelling at you or everyone has an excuse why they have to miss rehearsal, etc. Just the general stress of running the place and paying the bills can be hard. About three weeks ago, my best friend Melissa, who is also the assistant director of the studio, and I were having a really tough time. We were concerned about the future of the studio and if we were doing the right thing for ourselves, our families, the students, etc. Mel and I had been praying so hard -- God please just tell us what the best thing is. I also told God that I'm stupid, I don't get subtleties or read signs, so if He could just hand write me a note and let me know what to do, that would be most appreciated. So Tuesday evening of our rehearsal week before our spring show, I arrived home from being at the studio for about five hours, and saw that someone had pushed something through my mail slot. It was a letter from the mother of my former best friend (we had grown up dancing together) and the mother was like my mother and we are still close. Her letter pretty much said that she knows how hard it is to run the studio, but that we are preparing our kids for life, not just dance. And (here's where it gets good) God sees what we're doing and approves of it.


I. got. a. letter. from. God. Now I'm spoiled and I think God is going to write me letters to answer all of the prayers I have.

5. Speaking of, I really need to discipline myself to understand that over-thinking things does not equal praying about them. I can so over-think something that I get in my own way, end up being super-awkward and then over-thinking my awkward behaviour and the cycle starts again. Let me tell you something, I will be 29 years old in less than a month, but in some situations (fine, matters of the heart) I am 28 going on 12.

6. Matters of the heart. The worst. Let's agree to agree. I'd rather fold all my laundry than struggle with a heart matter. Blah. The hardest part is that they are so hard to control. Feelings are hard to control because you don't choose them, they just happen. And then you're left there in the parking lot wondering what in the hell just happened? And you kind of want to ask God to please just take it away because YOU DO NOT WANT TO DEAL WITH THIS. Mostly because IT. IS. SCARY. (See take #2.)

7. Sometimes you really need to keep this in mind:


Wednesday, June 19, 2013

You know those mornings when you wake up and it just seems like the day holds so much possibility? You listen to that Fuel song "Shimmer" on the way to work... it's everybody's favorite song that they forget is their favorite until they randomly hear it again and remember. You back into your parking spot at work because you are just THAT cool. You just know that sometime today you'll find out you're Snow White or Florence Welch or a pro ball player or whatever your thing is, and you'll end the day tap dancing on the wall with Fred Astaire.

This morning was one of those days.

And although I ended the day watching the Dick van Dyke show and not tap dancing with Fred, it's really nice to go through a whole day thinking anything can happen. It was especially nice for me this morning because I had a bit of a bummer of a situation last night, so I was proud that I was still able to wake up with that feeling of possibility.

Hoping it carries over into tomorrow.


Wednesday, June 12, 2013

You know those people who prattle on endlessly about their kids? I mean, even if the kids are cute, if you don't have kids, it gets kind of old ASAP. So I thought I'd tell you all about what Snicks has been up to lately. :)

Truly, there is no one on the planet with a better life than one, Snicks the Bunny. (Not the candy.) Sometimes I worry that I'm not providing him the best life, and then I realize: he is a freeloader. He lives here (in his own room, baller), he eats all his meals here, he goes to the bathroom here, he takes his naps here. Never see homeboy pick up a vacuum or attempt to do some laundry to help a brotha out.

A run down of what he does all day long:

Eats too many oats, collapses in food station. (#1. I mean, food station number one. As in, he has more than one food station.) 

Decides to take a nap in the corner. 

Realized he wasn't as comfortable as he'd like, so proceeds to squish his face in between his bowl and the wall. Cozy.

Realizes one food coma a day won't do, so re-stuffs himself.

"But I only had OATS so far today, not apples, so thanks for leaving that one on the floor." 

Finally getting some dang work done. 

An Unconventional Love Story

Saturday, June 8, 2013

I grew up with two younger sisters and two younger brothers. My youngest sister is 10 years younger than me. One thing we didn't have, however, was a pet. No dogs, no cats, no birds, no turtles, no fish... nothing. My parents (rightfully) predicted that if we got a dog, they'd end up taking care of it, and we lived in a three-bedroom house with seven people.

So when a rabbit showed up at my apartment one day... well, saying I was unprepared is an understatement.

How Snicks ended up here is a great story: my roommate at the time worked with a girl who was getting ready to go away to college. (Weirdly, she was going to attend Shepherd, my alma mater.) Joanna (who had Snicks) asked Molly (my former roommate) if we'd be willing to adopt her rabbit. Molly asked me about it, and honestly I wasn't sure. We weren't home a lot, we had a small apartment, I was worried he would smell. But in the end, well, how are you NOT going to take in a homeless five-month-old bunny?

Joanna brought Snicks over late one afternoon with a cage and some litter. (Homeboy came litterbox trained -- he's been way smart since the beginning!) We put him down on a rug in the kitchen, and, well... there he was! I petted him and petted him and he jumped in my heart immediately. Molly left shortly after to go to work, so Snicks and I were left alone for the evening. It went pretty much like this: Snicks stares at Anna, Anna stares at Snicks. For hours. Seriously. I had NO idea what to do with a rabbit. And obviously he had no idea what to do with me either. Around 10 p.m. I put him in his cage for the night and went to my room to go to bed. Where I promptly got up no less than seven times to walk into the living room to be sure he was still breathing. And a mother was born. :)

That was August 2010, and now Snicks is three years old and I will have had him for three years in August. I didn't know what to do with him, but you know what -- he didn't know what to do either. I didn't know what rabbits were supposed to do; neither did he. We had some hard times (he got three abscesses in summer 2011, which resulted me crying in the vet's office and saying "I am afraid you are going to call bunny protective services" and them assuring me that they knew I loved him since I brought him in... one of my better moments. Also I learned that bunnies form strong ties with the person they see as their primary caregiver... and unneutered bunnies will, a lot of times, show that affection through peeing on that person. I can vouch that that's true!). But mostly we've had really good times. We figured out together that he doesn't like carrots (yep) at all or cucumbers very much. But he love, love, loves bananas, apples, oats and (don't tell) chocolate. He also likes to chew cell phone cords if someone is stupid enough to leave them hanging down where he can reach. He loves being scratched on the head and will nudge your hand when he wants a scratch. He's cuddly and likes kisses. He hates car rides and he's shy around strangers. However, he's really gentle and good with kids and lets them touch his face. He never thumps, he never kicks. The vet told me that, should I ever get another rabbit, I should not expect that that rabbit will be anything like Snicks because Snicks is unusual. He doesn't do normal rabbit things, but he doesn't know that and neither did I.

It took him very little time to earn the privilege of being a free-roaming rabbit. He runs around the apartment all the time because he's not mischievous (mostly) and he knows that when he needs to go to the bathroom he needs to find his litterbox. In fact, one day I accidentally left him in my room all day with the door shut while I was at work, and when I came home and opened the door, he just hopped out. And I discovered HE HADN'T GONE TO THE BATHROOM ALL DAY. He held it because his head told him he could only go in his litterbox, and he couldn't get to it. (Bet your kid wouldn't do that! Just sayin'.)

He's the "person" who's there when I get home at the end of the day. He doesn't really require much from me, but he gives me a whole lot. He's who prevents me from being that crazy girl who talks to herself. Clearly I'm not talking to MYSELF, I am talking to my BUNNY. Obvs. He's really nothing but a cuddlebug. He never makes noises, he doesn't smell, he doesn't need walked. His manners are outstanding if I do say so myself! I tell him all the time that he's God's favorite bunny. Because how can that NOT be true? :)

As the words on the wall in his room (yep) say:

Some Things I'm Loving...

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Bunnies who look like they're running for office... 

Doesn't he just look like he wants to hear about your problems with potholes on your street and the city tax increases? 

Bunnies who are so chunky they can't wait for their oats to be poured so they just dive right in and end up with some on their heads... 

That's my boy.

Really, just bunnies doing anything:

 Really funny sisters named Erin:

Precious ballet students who are dancing superstars and also class valedictorians:

That's my Dominique!

Newly planted flowers outside the dance studio because we love our city and the small part of it that's ours:

Pictures of llamas that physically (and also apparently caption-ally) resemble my brother Thomas:

These round animals failing at life:

My new computer modification that is the best thing ever:

...and being back on the blogging train. Hoping I can make it stick. 

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