POWIP Piece of Work In Progress – Former Abode of Dan Collins

A Torrid Love Affair

Things I'm Thankful For:

12. My Car. I love my car. Here's a couple of car stories so you will understand the depth of the love affair I have with my car. Story numero uno:

Growing up my family had the most embarrassing cars ever. We had the old school blue station wagon with the wood panel siding. We also had a bright purple minivan that we called the Barney-mobile, but when I was in high school we had a puke green station wagon (it was the pride of all my high school friends, let me tell you.) Any ways, every morning and afternoon my freshman year, I had to endure the embarrassment of getting dropped off and picked up in that puke green monstrosity. So one morning, like usual, my mother and I were arguing (probably over how much make-up I had on) and I was really mad. She dropped me off on a cold winter day, and my angry self-righteous self, huffed and slammed the door shut as hard as possible to make my point. I turned to walk off, only to realize that my coat was caught in the door of the previously slammed door. I tried to pull it out. Too late. My mom had taken off with my coat and me caught in the door of the puke-mobile. So there I was, caught in the door of the ugliest car in the world, running alongside as hard as I could to avoid being drug through the parking lot,  banging on the window and screaming for my mom to stop the car so I could....uuummm....unattach myselft.  She finally realized what was going on, and it startled her, so she slammed on the brakes, after which I slammed into the side of the car with a loud thud. After the car came to a stop, I peeled myself off the side. I stood up.  Opened the door. Extracted my coat.  Slammed the door. And turned around. Only to discover there were about 200 of my peers gathered together watching the situation, dying laughing, and all pointing....at me and my car. Needless to say, I was humiliated. Not only had everyone seen my atrocious car, but they had seen me  dragged through the parking lot in my atrocious car by my atrocious (not really Mom! I love you!) mother. It was awful. To make things worse, the basketball coach came up to me, put his arms around me and said, "It's ok, Johanna, we're not laughing at you. We're laughing with you." Riiiiight.

Story number two:

When I finally got my first car, it was a white, 1988, Mazda 323  hatchback. It had vinyl seats. I would plug my Sony walkman cd player into the radio to play my Sublime cds. But whenever I drove my car over 60 mph, the sound would start to skip pretty badly, like the car was sucking energy from everything just to do. The car was a manual transmission with no power steering. To this day, I don't know I drove that thing around. It was quite the work out.  My assigned parking space in high school was on a steep incline downward. I had to wait for the entire lot to clear before I had the nerve to even try backing that car out. I pleaded with the principal to give me a new space to no avail. Anyways, one day, I waited for everyone to leave as usual, then I tried to back out. I tried as hard as I could, but it just didn't happen. I couldn't make it up the incline. I shot down the hill, over the gigantic speed bump and almost ran over my principal. Heh served him right. He came up to my car yelling and screaming at me to learn how to drive. I just cried.

So now you understand a little bit why I love my beautiful Volvo S60 with leather and a sun roof so much. I've never had a nice car and believe me, I don't take it for granted. No more puke green or bright purple or un-driveable vehicles for me. No sir, it's nothing but smooth sailing from here.

Cross-posted at Johanna Hopes.

Johanna

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This Ain’t Your Grandma’s Pumpkin Pie

Things I'm Thankful For:

11. Schlafly's Pumpkin Ale. I've never been a beer drinker. Never really liked the taste of it. I mean, why drink a beer when a Cabernet Sauvignon tastes so delicious? Well, now I have seen the light,  and boy have I been missing out. I think my problem with beer is that I have expensive tastes. I don't mean to, I just do. So when I tried a Michelob Ultra, or a Bud light, it just did nothing for me. And then this past summer sitting at a Braves game, I don't really know why, but I ordered a Blue Moon with an orange, and it was like the clouds rolled back the the heavenly choir sang. Needless to say, I've liked beer ever since.

So I say all that to say this, I bought this Schlafly Pumpkin Ale a few weeks ago, and now I'm addicted. But I must warn you, it's kind of hard to drink more than two at a time. It's like desert, deep and rich, and cinnamon-y, and nutmeg-y. Kind of like real pumpkin pie except better, and not so sweet. In Tennessee you can only buy it at the liquor store because the alcohol content is higher, and in Jackson, you can only get them at one liquor store, so the owner laughs at me every time I come in. He only ordered 30 six-packs, and I think I've bought half of them. If you get a chance, try one with your meal this Thanksgiving. You won't regret it.

Cross-posted at Johanna Hopes.

Johanna

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I’m Celebrating Thanksgiving, Dammit. How About You? [UPDATED by Dan]

I feel like more and more, Thanksgiving is becoming the red-headed step-child of holidays. I was in Sears two weeks ago buying new glasses, and to my dismay, realized I was humming along to "Santa Clause is Coming to Town" blasting from the store's speakers. Half the people in my neighborhood already have their Christmas trees up. It's like Thanksgiving is no longer relevant. I guess because there's no presents? Who knows. Regardless it's sad. I don't want to speak for everyone else, but I, at least, don't spend enough time expressing gratitude for all the things I have, so, in the true spirit of this beautiful and under-celebrated holiday, I'm trying to change all that.

My sister-in-law has a blog where she is celebrating 25 days of thankfulness in honor of Thanksgiving, and it has inspired me to do the same. And in the past 10 days that I have participated, you would not believe how much my attitude has changed. Being thankful is good for the soul. If you don't believe me, try it yourself. Every day, I have have posted one thing that I am thankful for. So far these are the things that have made the list:

1. The fact that I am not always right.

2. My bed.

3. Surprises.

4. My dad.

5. My crazy pills.

6. My pjs.

7. The one and only pupsicle.

8. My Crossfit group.

Here's a sample: I'm thankful for crooked smiles and other imperfections.  When I was in high school I had a gigantic nose, the body of a 12 year-old boy, and a crooked smile. I was always very self-conscious about the way I looked. I was teased, told I was ugly, etc. In the 15 or so years since the awkwardness of high school, I have grown more into my nose (although, I still favor Blossom when I glance in the mirror every now and then). God decided to give me a more...eh...womanly figure (finally!), but I still have that same crooked smile.

But you know what? I've grown much more accepting and way less critical of my looks over the years. In fact, I look at all my imperfections now as giving me character. The imperfections are what make me unique. Different from everyone else. Besides, are not all our "imperfections" perfections in the eyes of our Creator? We are each one a masterpiece, created in His perfect image. We should celebrate our imperfections, rather than hide them....... Heh, easier said than done, as I put on heels to make me taller, mascara to define my eyes, blush to give me cheek bones, and so forth. But at least today I'm thankful for my crooked smile. There's simply no hiding that one.

UPDATE: via College Politico at Eyeblast.

Johanna

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Changes

I haven't been around here much lately. Well, I take that back. I've been reading on a daily basis, just not writing. I've been through a lot of changes in my life over the past 7-8 months. In fact they've been pretty radical ones; luckily for the better. Without going into too many details, I made a series of pretty stupid decisions that led to a series of pretty dire consequences. But luckily, my faith in God, dear friends, family, an awesome husband, and more recently, some meds, have helped me get back on track. I've been documenting my Spiritual journey of sorts at my site here. And even though Dan always says we can post about whatever we want, I haven't because I didn't want to come across preachy, I guess. That's not my personality.  But I do think that if all my screw-ups might help others, then I'm willing to put them out there. Anyway that's where I've been. Thanks so much for the prayers and encouragement.

-Johanna

Johanna

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Skeevy Perverted Politicians

With all the latest news of the John Edward's sex tape scandal, I wonder why it is that so many of our political figures are such sexual perverts. I understand that it's not a new thing, but it's really starting to get on my nerves.

The list of modern American political perverts is long and getting longer. From Bill Clinton to Barney Frank and Eliot Spitzer to Larry Craig, the perversion crosses party lines and sexual preferences. And these are all just the scandals we know about. Yet no matter what, these guys continue to get elected. We get rid of one guy, finding ourselves replaced with another even worse. Every day I turn on the TV and it seems like there is yet another scandal involving tickle fights, or hookers, or extra-marital affairs, hell even child pornography. So to me that begs the question, are these politicians deviant from the beginning, or does their perversion escalate with their power? Is there anyone out there left in American politics who is monogamous? I mean is that too much to ask?

As conservatives we talk about cleaning house and electing men and women who will truly represent us. We call for smaller government, less spending, strong defense, protection of our god-given rights under the constitution. But along with all those things, is it possible to elect men and women with morals? Or does it even matter? I would like to believe that it still does. If we are truly electing politicians to represent us, then I would hope they would do so both politically and morally. I think that for John Edwards and the rest of them, a career in the porn industry may be a better place, although, when you think about, I guess politics isn't really that far off these days.

Johanna

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What’s Love Got to do With It?

I've been thinking a lot about love lately.  As I've thought and read about this topic over the past couple of months, I have begun to realize how much our culture plays a huge role in defining what love is. It's downright scary when you think about it.  Our culture throws not just the word love around, but the meaning too, so flippantly and so often that I believe it causes confusion. Various TV shows, songs, movies, etc do much to water down the true meaning of love, leaving us scratching our heads in disappointment and frustration. I mean, why can't my husband be just like the guy from The Notebook? Is that too much to ask? Gees. 

 I just Googled  how many songs have the word love in them. I got 10, 500,000 as the answer. Incredible. Love Shack, Love Me Do, Endless Love,  Your Love Don’t Take a Backseat to Nothin, All I Wanna Do is Make Love to You, are just a few of the examples that come to mind. But what does it all mean? Love can be sex, love can be forever or just one night, love is first, love is last. There's  love of self, money, strippers, jewelry, shoes, and cars. I mean nothing is off the table. And if you watch shows like The Bachelor or Rock of Love (with Brett Michaels btw), you know what I mean.

But even beyond the irreverent way our culture tosses love around, I’m just as guilty of it too. For example, just the other night as J and I were driving to a movie, I was discussing this very thing with him, and complaining about it. Not two minutes after, I asked him for some chapstick. He pulled it out and immediately I said, “I LOVE this kind.” AAAAHHHH! And I do it all the time. I love this song, or I love reading that blog. I love the Yankees. I love Tag-Along Girl Scout cookies. But do I really? Love? Those? Things?  Just call me Brick. Seriously.

I don't know. I guess I'm at a point in my life where I'm tired of assigning love to things that really have no value. And I'm sick and tired of allowing culture to define what love is. When I say the words "I love you" I want to mean it with all my heart. I think the Greeks had it right, or at least better than we do. Four different words for love that express four different meanings is better than one word to express them all. I don't know about you, but I'm tired of saying I Love my husband and I love chapstick in the same breath. I'm going to try and stop. Starting....now.

Johanna

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My “Antidote to this Pernicious Indoctrination into Neurosis”

 Thanks to Dan for the inspiration. 

I googled *dating advice for men* specifically, and it returned 18 million different sites dealing with this issue alone. Good grief, how did things get so fracking complicated? All these rules: be yourself, but not if you're *different.* Ask her out, but use this script we provide. Keep it simple just complicates things even more. Make her feel pretty, but don't stare at her breasts, or legs, or anywhere but her eyes, and on and on, ad infinitim. I don't know about you, but even as a female, I see all these rules for men to follow, and it's enough to give me indigestion. How does anyone manage to get together these days with all this madness?

I understand this is the culture we have created, and it poisons both sexes. Even though it's been a while since I've been out there, I remember all too well some of the horrors of dating. So the only anitidote I can think of to give a man is this, ignore all that shit and go it alone. I am convinced you can figure it out by yourself, no matter how "socially challenged" you are.  Do you really need AskMen.com to spell it all out for you?  Now I'm  sure there will be mistakes along the way, and probably rejection. God knows, no one is perfect. But if there is a lady out there for you, it will happen, and get this, without the 18 million pages of rules, advice, and tips. Amazing right?

 Oh yeah, and just one more thing, if I wear a low-cut form-fitting dress it's BECAUSE I want you to check out my cleavage, dammit.  So there's that.

-Johanna

Johanna

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