About an hour ago I was reminded why it's not a good idea to procrastinate on important things...and then why it's even worse to be late.
Wait, let me back up.
So about a month ago I found out that I was going to be going on a short term mission trip to Brazil with Watermark. I could not be more excited! I can't wait to get out of the concrete jungle of Dallas and head to the Amazon Jungle to share the love of Christ with the people there. I'm still not fully sure what we're going to be doing while we're there, so details will have to come later. I'm sure my friends who have already been could share more details than I know right now...but that's not the point. At our first meeting we were asked to do two things. One was to start support raising, and the other was to fill out an online application by three days ago. Oops. I started support raising...I just forgot about the application.
Now come back to today, New Years Eve. About an hour ago I got a phone call from one of the people leading the trip asking me if I could do my application asap...you know, end of the tax year for donors and such. Sure! Of course I can do that, since it was supposed to be done 3 days ago. And really, how long can it take? Oh no. It can take a long time when you're missing important information...like your passport...your blood type...what else did I forget? I have to tell you that I haven't seen my passport in three years since I moved to Dallas from College Station. Not to mention that I've also moved since then. After frantic searching and turning my house upside down, I finally found my passport hidden in my Tahoe. Why was it there you might ask? Clearly I might need to skip the country at a moments notice. Of course my options are limited to Canada and Mexico since my planned method of escape was apparently my car.
*Note to self: Important government documents should not be kept in places like your car...you might lose them!
Don't worry, the application has been submitted and I am still allowed on the trip as far as I know. It's just missing small details like my testimony and my blood type. Oh well. I can do that before we leave.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
Failed Baking Attempt # What?
It is with great sadness that my friend Laura and I are mourning what could easily be called a miserable baking failure. Tonight, in an effort to do something creative and memorable, we decided to bake a pie. In our minds this pie was going to be a chocolaty masterpiece that people from far and wide would come to sample in all of its glory. Ahh, the delectable goodness they would call it. It was going to be a pie worthy of praise. Yes, it was going to be that good. But how did it turn out? While I would rather not talk about it, "delectable goodness" isn't quite the right wording to describe these pies...chocolate soup with crust might be more appropriate. A miserable failure. So sad. Actually, I'm not giving us enough credit. To be fair, the pie tasted excellent...the presentation was terrible. I've decided to stick with frozen pies and slice & bake cookies. I don't think Proverbs 31 says anything about having to bake with excellence.
Pie anyone?
Here are some pictures of the baking fun.
Pie anyone?Friday, December 26, 2008
Adventures in the Swamplands - Day 5
Dear Louisiana,
It is with deep regret that we write you this letter. Believe us when we say that this isn't how we wanted it to end. We love you but we aren't in love with you. It's not you, it's us...but we're just not feeling it. You're not the state you used to be and we've found another. We just can't take your 90% humidity or the soft water that makes our hair flat. We can't handle the perpetual feeling of being full...and yet still wanting more. We just don't feel like this is where the Lord wants us and we're going back to Texas. I think we're at a point where you love us more than we love you. Don't take this the wrong way, but I think it's time to move on. Texas has stolen our hearts in a way that we could never explain. We miss the food...the traffic in Dallas and San Antonio. We miss hearing "howdy!" everywhere we go. With much joy in our hearts Louisiana, we're saying goodbye. We know you may never love again, but wait until Mardi Gras, you'll find someone new.
A Swamp Reunited,
Laura and Michael
It is with deep regret that we write you this letter. Believe us when we say that this isn't how we wanted it to end. We love you but we aren't in love with you. It's not you, it's us...but we're just not feeling it. You're not the state you used to be and we've found another. We just can't take your 90% humidity or the soft water that makes our hair flat. We can't handle the perpetual feeling of being full...and yet still wanting more. We just don't feel like this is where the Lord wants us and we're going back to Texas. I think we're at a point where you love us more than we love you. Don't take this the wrong way, but I think it's time to move on. Texas has stolen our hearts in a way that we could never explain. We miss the food...the traffic in Dallas and San Antonio. We miss hearing "howdy!" everywhere we go. With much joy in our hearts Louisiana, we're saying goodbye. We know you may never love again, but wait until Mardi Gras, you'll find someone new.
A Swamp Reunited,
Laura and Michael
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Adventures in the Swamplands - Day 4
Merry Christmas dear friends!
As we sit here in the cold of our hotel room and shiver, we can't help but ponder our Christmas day. The day began with my brother and I realizing we hadn't wrapped any Christmas presents yet. Oops. But it's okay, we took it all in stride. My brother went to go get breakfast downstairs and I decided to take a shower and get pretty for the day. Now that's creative problem solving at its best. I mean really CREATIVE problem solving. We realized that our procrastination hadn't worked when our dad knocked on the door to pick us up, and his gift was still sitting on the bed. Panic stricken, I threw my brother's coat over my dad's Christmas present...which ironically was a coat. No, it was not a technicolor dream coat...just plain old ordinary black. I mean electrifying black. Haven't you heard black is the new black? The rouse worked like a charm bracelet (which incidentally is what we got our mom). My dad thought I was out of my mind when I told him to look for his gift under the jacket...oh well, at least he still loves me. Thus began our Christmas morning.
Transition...Segway...Cut to....
The next four hours of the day included a traditional Christmas lunch, soon to be followed by hours of reading "Breaking Dawn" for myself and who knows what my brother was doing. With midafternoon came lots of family we've never actually met before. Single tear. Drip. Two of the newly found family members are psychiatrists from California. Now that adds fun to a semi-dysfunctional family gathering. It's amazing what you can find whenever you look under a rock. The conclusion of the family fun brought a photo session that felt much like the paparazzi were after us. I guess this is what happens when you're the next generation of a family and they haven't seen each other in years. The exciting part was when our younger cousin kept trying to dodge each picture. It was like he was a native american afraid that his soul was going to be captured by the camera.
Fast forward...Move on...Come to the present....
And again here we sit in our hotel room. Fighting over what we're going to write on the blog for tonight. Wondering who left the air on in the room all day to make it so cold (confession: it was me but I still blame my brother).
A Swamp Divided,
Laura and Michael
As we sit here in the cold of our hotel room and shiver, we can't help but ponder our Christmas day. The day began with my brother and I realizing we hadn't wrapped any Christmas presents yet. Oops. But it's okay, we took it all in stride. My brother went to go get breakfast downstairs and I decided to take a shower and get pretty for the day. Now that's creative problem solving at its best. I mean really CREATIVE problem solving. We realized that our procrastination hadn't worked when our dad knocked on the door to pick us up, and his gift was still sitting on the bed. Panic stricken, I threw my brother's coat over my dad's Christmas present...which ironically was a coat. No, it was not a technicolor dream coat...just plain old ordinary black. I mean electrifying black. Haven't you heard black is the new black? The rouse worked like a charm bracelet (which incidentally is what we got our mom). My dad thought I was out of my mind when I told him to look for his gift under the jacket...oh well, at least he still loves me. Thus began our Christmas morning.
Transition...Segway...Cut to....
The next four hours of the day included a traditional Christmas lunch, soon to be followed by hours of reading "Breaking Dawn" for myself and who knows what my brother was doing. With midafternoon came lots of family we've never actually met before. Single tear. Drip. Two of the newly found family members are psychiatrists from California. Now that adds fun to a semi-dysfunctional family gathering. It's amazing what you can find whenever you look under a rock. The conclusion of the family fun brought a photo session that felt much like the paparazzi were after us. I guess this is what happens when you're the next generation of a family and they haven't seen each other in years. The exciting part was when our younger cousin kept trying to dodge each picture. It was like he was a native american afraid that his soul was going to be captured by the camera.
Fast forward...Move on...Come to the present....
And again here we sit in our hotel room. Fighting over what we're going to write on the blog for tonight. Wondering who left the air on in the room all day to make it so cold (confession: it was me but I still blame my brother).
A Swamp Divided,
Laura and Michael
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Adventures in the Swamplands - Day 3
Well friends, we've made it to Christmas Eve in Louisiana. So far we haven't been eaten by alligators or been swept away by a hurricane. Right now my brother and I are sitting in our hotel room watching a movie from our past...our far past....going back to age 4 would be a more accurate description of how far back. It's definitely a classic and one I'm sure we've all seen and remember with fond memories. That's right kids, we're watching "The Cat in the Hat." Why you might be asking yourself? Well, I'm not really sure why this is our movie of choice for the evening, but I'm sure we'll soon be moving to 24 hours of a Christmas Story soon.
Tonight we've decided to reminisce on the Fitzsimmons Family Christmas traditions...mainly because, with great disappointment, most of them were not fulfilled this evening. Now the traditions we speak of are not ALL normal family traditions. In fact, you might even call them weird...but we'll work up to those. Our first tradition that was broken this year was the lack of gumbo for dinner. Gumbo is like a staple in our family...especially on Christmas Eve in Louisiana. We have also failed to fulfill our tradition of watching 24 hours of a Christmas Story on TBS. Okay, Michael has never seen a Christmas Story, but it's another essential for me and my dad. However, we do have 22 more hours to make this one happen and I'm determined to make Michael watch it even if I have to tape his eyelids open. I'm not even sure why this has become a tradition for my dad and I. We don't really even like the movie...so 24 hours of it, that's just too much!
Now this brings us to our final broken tradition of the year. I feel confident that there will be a hole in my heart because of this one. It is something I have come to depend on over the years. You could almost say we depend on it like we depend on air and water. It's a necessity. And that necessity has fondly become known as frequent trips to Walmart the night of Christmas Eve. Why Walmart and not Target you ask? Welcome to Covington, Louisiana...there is no Target...no mall...nothing. Just Walmart. Ironic isn't it? The only excuse to escape from our family is to hang out with everyone else's family. Of course, if I can't go to Walmart, how am I going to find tape for Michael's eyelids? Oh well, there is always next year.
A Swamp Still Divided,
Laura and Michael
Tonight we've decided to reminisce on the Fitzsimmons Family Christmas traditions...mainly because, with great disappointment, most of them were not fulfilled this evening. Now the traditions we speak of are not ALL normal family traditions. In fact, you might even call them weird...but we'll work up to those. Our first tradition that was broken this year was the lack of gumbo for dinner. Gumbo is like a staple in our family...especially on Christmas Eve in Louisiana. We have also failed to fulfill our tradition of watching 24 hours of a Christmas Story on TBS. Okay, Michael has never seen a Christmas Story, but it's another essential for me and my dad. However, we do have 22 more hours to make this one happen and I'm determined to make Michael watch it even if I have to tape his eyelids open. I'm not even sure why this has become a tradition for my dad and I. We don't really even like the movie...so 24 hours of it, that's just too much!
Now this brings us to our final broken tradition of the year. I feel confident that there will be a hole in my heart because of this one. It is something I have come to depend on over the years. You could almost say we depend on it like we depend on air and water. It's a necessity. And that necessity has fondly become known as frequent trips to Walmart the night of Christmas Eve. Why Walmart and not Target you ask? Welcome to Covington, Louisiana...there is no Target...no mall...nothing. Just Walmart. Ironic isn't it? The only excuse to escape from our family is to hang out with everyone else's family. Of course, if I can't go to Walmart, how am I going to find tape for Michael's eyelids? Oh well, there is always next year.
A Swamp Still Divided,
Laura and Michael
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Adventures in the Swamplands - Day 2
Dear Traveler's Log,
No wait, that's lame. It sounds too much like a diary and diaries are for my seventh grade girls.
Well, here we are in day two of our Louisiana adventure. I think today could be summarized by alligator wrestling and Louisiana cuisine. And by alligator wrestling, I don't actually mean alligator wrestling. That was meant more to draw you into what we actually have to say. Sucker! This morning was game time for Michael and I. It was officially time to see the entire crazy family all in the same moment. Don't underestimate our small family. Families are like scorpions, the smaller ones just have a more concentrated dose of crazy. They can be especially overwhelming when they come at you all at once. It's pure insanity I tell you. Technically our day started around 1:30 today at lunch. There was a lot of sleeping done on our part to say the least....and again, by "our" I mean my part. When you're in Louisiana it's all about the food. I'm not one for loving seafood but I have come to embrace the po-boy. I don't mean to overemphasize the power of the po-boy to tempt one into gluttony, but the family filled up at lunch, ordered one for the road and by dinner time someone had stolen Michael's half eaten sandwich. Yeah, it's that good. So there we are, the family sitting around the table, basking in the cajuny goodness that was about to come when the oddest thing happened. I've spent the last week drooling like one of Pavlov's dogs at the thought of a seafood po-boy, particularly a crawfish po-boy. The waitress came around the corner, asked for my order and I said "I'll have a barbeque sandwich please." WHAT? Who said that? It sounded like me and I felt the words roll off my tongue, but why would I do that? I drive past Railhead BBQ twice a week, but I fly 600+ miles to get BBQ roast beef in New Orleans. That's like my brother, a self proclaimed San Antonian flying to Beijing for traditional Tex-Mex fair. Ludicrous.
As you can see, this was a pretty big deal to me. After lunch we made our way back to my cousins' house and I somehow got roped into doing manual labor...aka painting. What? Since when does Christmas vacation involve painting a house? It was supposed to be a project for my brother and I, but my brother disappeared right as I started painting and didn't show up back in the house until after my dad dropped me off at the hotel. Nice. Thanks and Gig'em Michael. Love you too bro. And here we are, back at the hotel making pizza rolls in the microwave and eating them straight out of the box. Oh look, we're back to cuisine. See, in Louisiana, it really is all about the food.
A Swamp Divided,
Laura and Michael
No wait, that's lame. It sounds too much like a diary and diaries are for my seventh grade girls.
Well, here we are in day two of our Louisiana adventure. I think today could be summarized by alligator wrestling and Louisiana cuisine. And by alligator wrestling, I don't actually mean alligator wrestling. That was meant more to draw you into what we actually have to say. Sucker! This morning was game time for Michael and I. It was officially time to see the entire crazy family all in the same moment. Don't underestimate our small family. Families are like scorpions, the smaller ones just have a more concentrated dose of crazy. They can be especially overwhelming when they come at you all at once. It's pure insanity I tell you. Technically our day started around 1:30 today at lunch. There was a lot of sleeping done on our part to say the least....and again, by "our" I mean my part. When you're in Louisiana it's all about the food. I'm not one for loving seafood but I have come to embrace the po-boy. I don't mean to overemphasize the power of the po-boy to tempt one into gluttony, but the family filled up at lunch, ordered one for the road and by dinner time someone had stolen Michael's half eaten sandwich. Yeah, it's that good. So there we are, the family sitting around the table, basking in the cajuny goodness that was about to come when the oddest thing happened. I've spent the last week drooling like one of Pavlov's dogs at the thought of a seafood po-boy, particularly a crawfish po-boy. The waitress came around the corner, asked for my order and I said "I'll have a barbeque sandwich please." WHAT? Who said that? It sounded like me and I felt the words roll off my tongue, but why would I do that? I drive past Railhead BBQ twice a week, but I fly 600+ miles to get BBQ roast beef in New Orleans. That's like my brother, a self proclaimed San Antonian flying to Beijing for traditional Tex-Mex fair. Ludicrous.
As you can see, this was a pretty big deal to me. After lunch we made our way back to my cousins' house and I somehow got roped into doing manual labor...aka painting. What? Since when does Christmas vacation involve painting a house? It was supposed to be a project for my brother and I, but my brother disappeared right as I started painting and didn't show up back in the house until after my dad dropped me off at the hotel. Nice. Thanks and Gig'em Michael. Love you too bro. And here we are, back at the hotel making pizza rolls in the microwave and eating them straight out of the box. Oh look, we're back to cuisine. See, in Louisiana, it really is all about the food.
A Swamp Divided,
Laura and Michael
Monday, December 22, 2008
Adventures in the Swamplands - Day 1
Once again it's Christmas, the time of family festivities in Louisiana....oy vay! In honor of the next five days, my brother and I have decided to document our family fun for your reading pleasure. It's sure to be a staggering work of heartbreaking genius. Well, at least it should be mildly entertaining...maybe. No promises. Anyway, our excursion was underway at precisely 20:34 military time when my brother and I were reunited at the Louis Armstrong International Airport. Can't you just hear the saxophone...wait, is that Bill playing? It's good to see he's keeping himself busy during the down economy. Anyway, we're still in the airport and the adventure has already begun. We go to the baggage claim and head to the only conveyor belt with people. Now see if you can follow our logic: a plane lands and five minutes later everyone in sight is gathered around a single luggage return...that must be where the luggage is going, right? Not so my friend. My brother looks around and informs me that NONE of the people were on the flight. That's crazy talk. But I decided to indulge his delusional fantasies of flying with other people. Oy! So, we walk up and down the baggage claim...several times actually. Still no fellow passengers that my apparently Alzheimer's ridden brother recognizes. Without a word, Michael suddenly storms out of the baggage claim area and charges through the rental car kiosks into an undecorated hallway that looks like it should have an "employees only" sign at the entrance. All the while, I'm trailing behind trying to figure out which demon has possessed my brother. We FINALLY reach the light at the end of the tunnel/hallway and emerge in a "secret" baggage claim. AHH Success! I guess my brother isn't delusional, Alzheimer's ridden or demon possessed after all. What a relief, especially on the last one. I left my holy water at the house. I mean we weren't all boy scouts and I needed space for my yachting shoes.
I must confess that the rest of the night was a bit of a let down after that adventure. Although we did have dinner at a Northern Italian restaurant and I swear it was run by the Corleone Family. Anywho, that's all for tonight. But no worries, there's more to come tomorrow!
A Swamp Divided,
Laura and Michael
I must confess that the rest of the night was a bit of a let down after that adventure. Although we did have dinner at a Northern Italian restaurant and I swear it was run by the Corleone Family. Anywho, that's all for tonight. But no worries, there's more to come tomorrow!
A Swamp Divided,
Laura and Michael
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