Thank God for Good Directions... and Mister Jeeves

North, South, East, and West are the Cardinal Directions known to almost all mankind, I presume. These are the four words I cannot function with successfully. You see, I am what some call “directionally challenged.” And I SOOO wish I wasn’t.


To me, down was South and up was North. Now you can understand why Jeeves (my GPS) was the best gift I have ever received. Jeeves is amazing- I just tell him where I need to go, if I want to avoid toll roads, and if I want the fastest distance or shortest route… then calculating… and we are off! May I also mention the absolute greatest thing about Jeeves is that even when I mess up he redirects me without a hitch.

I have come to appreciate Jeeves over the years, it’s the nicest thing to buckle up and know I have guidance on the road. The road of life, however, is a different story. You see even Jeeves needs for me to indicate where I want to go. Honestly, sometimes that’s the most difficult part of my journey- I don’t know where to go from here.

Normally, I am decisive. And if I cannot decide something even after wise counsel is sought, then I base my decision on something I feel is rational. For example, recently I needed to paint my entire house. Since it would literally cover the E-N-T-I-R-E thing, I wanted to pick the right color. Everyone I had asked said “its up to you”… Well dang! I narrowed it down to three choices… China Doll, Mushroom, and Plateau. Here is how I decided:

1. I don’t like China food, therefore I cannot pick a paint color representative of that country.
2. Mushrooms… kinda mushy, a fungus, and I ALWAYS pick them off my supreme pizza. So surely I cannot pick that for my house.
3. I like the name, representative of where I am in life. Stable, capable of new heights yet if I fall it may have damaging potential.

You guessed it… my house is plateau. And I am fond of it.

Another time my “method” successfully worked was my first year of playing in a college football pool. There was this thing called “spread” – not like how you would smooth butter on toast, but a point spread. I had little time to learn nor very much interest, but wanted to participate in order to impress a gentleman. The whole season I decided that I would choose teams based on cities I preferred to shop in… and it resulted in second place! That is like the Super Bowl runner up.. *Woot!* However, some just mayyyyy consider that luck.

I assure you, there are times that my choices can’t be justified by a sporadic method that I create off a whim and I sure can’t follow my heart (thing has a mind of its own! Not to mention is more stubborn than the managers at The Limited who don’t let me use all my coupons). These are the days I feel like Pocahontas as she sits under Grandmother Willow with her spinning compass. What do you do when your needle won’t stop and decide on which direction you’re headed? What if the magnetism in it is messed up and it takes you on a TOTAL wrong path?

The answer is simple… throw it out cause you shouldn’t clutter your house with broken things.

I learned over the last 8 weeks in my Bible Study is that my life is not left to chance and sure not up to some device that requires satellites to be acquired. In fact, I am the daughter of the King of Kings, and He wouldn’t let me or any of his children remain lost. He is greater than any GPS; He is in charge of where my life is currently and what steps I need to take to get where He needs me to go. He is also in charge of my directionally challenged self, and when I miss a turn He doesn’t always require me to recalculate in order to get me back on track. Sometimes, He just needed me to take the next exit to properly fulfill His divine plan.

As thankful as I am for Jeeves, “luck,” and guided counsel… I am most thankful for a God who will take the wheel when I can no longer maintain control.

"Ray Charles can see your control issues" -Richard from Texas, Eat Pray Love

I asked myself, “do you know what you’re getting into?”


Wanna know a secret? The answer was no.

I was wishing and hoping and praying that it would become the best thing that ever happened to me.

Turns out, I gambled fully knowing that the house almost always wins.

Not completely out of character, but I became someone I never thought I would.

College football aside, I’ve always preferred a stable investment over a risk. I choose outcomes that I am certain of. That’s why I pick shoes over blackjack. And, if indeed, I’m feeling dangerous, I would pick poker over roulette because at least there is a little bit of control granted instead of relying entirely on luck.

This was not the case. I threw out every ounce of common sense and dove head first into what turned out to be the shallow end of the pool. My world turned upside down, a complete 180.

I shouldn’t be so hard on myself, but I am. I shouldn’t eat bad, but sometimes I do. I shouldn’t do a lot of things, but this surpassed them all. I risked everything I ever had for a chance to play a game. And it back fired.

And what’s worse? I‘m not sorry. I put all my effort into climbing a ladder that was attached to the wrong building. I didn’t know at the time. How could I have known when I wasn’t certain then or even now of what I expect? Only am I certain of what I hope for. And ladies and gentleman let me tell you, hope is my worst strategy to date.

I am Humpty Dumpty. Utterly afraid to get back on the wall for fear of failing to put myself back together again, yet I will do it anyway.

Because the only thing worse than a high risk, is taking no risk at all.

"If I Were a Guy, I'd be a Delta Chi"

It was October 2004. I was living in a dorm off Lindsey Street in Norman attending the University of Oklahoma (you know, the school that just beat Mack Brown and his Texas Longhorns?!). There was this girl who I instantly looked up to immensely. She always dressed in the cutest clothes, make up near flawless, and not a hair out of place. She was one of those girls who could wear workout clothes and hair in a sloppy pony tail and guys would still stare at her as if she were a brilliant fireworks display over Epcot. She was completely put together, organized, social and eloquent in her speech. And did I mention we were forbidden to be friends because she was my TA? Luckily for us, we felt friendship trumped the rules.


She introduced me to a lot of great things that year: Gamma Phi oreo dessert, Highway 9 runs, Catch Phrase, her roommate, Rusty’s, how to really study the night before a public speaking final and a fabulous fraternity called Delta Chi aka some of my favorite guys on the entire planet—scratch that… Solar System! Me and Miss P loved them so much that we proudly sported non-fitted t-shirts in every color that read, “If I Were a Guy, I’d be a Delta Chi.”

When it comes to them, the phrase “out of sight, out of mind” simply does not apply. Just because it has been a while since I have seen them, does NOT mean I don’t think of them often.

Fast forward to October 2010… Just this past weekend (most important weekend of the year… OU/TX game, Miss P’s birthday, and girlfriend time), I was reunited with the group (almost in its entirety). I am pretty sure when I first ran into Mr. Bench— I screamed louder than a 6 year old at a haunted house for the first time. Then we ventured upstairs… and there they were… all sitting around a table: Cody, Nicholas, Brad, Sam, Tyler, and Adam. With Nic Bench in the mix, I was fairly certain I could claim that I spent most of the evening socializing with the World’s 7 Greatest Wonders. Then just a few hours later, was blessed with the presence of JFray and GJ just a bar away. Best part? It was as if no time had past; we simply picked up right where we left off. Just instead of being at Coach’s or the house off of Lahoma, we were sitting at Renfield’s in Uptown (apologize for the accuracy of spelling, its how Cody text it to me).

This group of guys is anything but average. There is NEVER a dull moment, probably one of their greatest assets… especially since I love things that sparkle and shine. This is the epitome of their personalities; they are the essence of fun. They are captivating, charming, and charismatic. Not to mention, me and my dear friend, Lady S’ abs hurt for an entire day after that night from laughing SO hard.

Similar to that one dress you could never afford, the linger of “the one that got away,” the best diet chocolate cake dessert you’ve ever tasted, a great football game, a grand fireworks display, a friendship that withstands the test of time or a night with the Delta Chi's… I have learned that sometimes no matter how far out of sight something is, no matter if Kodak couldn’t even capture the memories… It doesn’t mean that they are out of mind. In fact, it’s those things I seem treasure those the most.

Just Like Guinevere

“It is rare that one can see in a little boy the promise of a good man, but one can always see in a little girl the threat of a woman.” I can’t remember who said that, but I agree wholeheartedly. In fact, not much about me has changed since childhood. I look just about the same; long brown hair, blue eyes, muscular legs. I have an independent spirit, am a little spastic, sometimes sassy and genuinely care a lot about people. I’ve even had the same goal ever since I was a little girl…To rule the world.

Since I’ve aged (just a bit), I have learned that in order to rule anything, there has to be a set of guidelines, expectations and more importantly beliefs. Therefore, I have spent my life formulating these three credentials. I will not bore you with guidelines and expectations; however, I will share with you my beliefs (note: some assistance provided in making my list). Afterall, Gavin preaches that belief makes things real… and true. Though I understand not all of my beliefs will be supported by the masses.

Here it goes…

I believe…

• in short days and long soirée
• in old friends who keep older secrets
• that happiness begins with dessert
• in the power of a little black dresses
• in the highest potential of people even if they never achieve it
• one should always over dress and never under dress
• pumps supersede flats
• one can never go wrong with pearls… unless you’re going to a Drake concert
• one should never put off buying tomorrow what you could be wearing today
• when you can’t impress them with personality, dazzle them with accessories
• a hand up isn’t as hard to take as a handout
• charm is the key to everything
• make the most of who comes and the least of who goes
• nothing is more alluring than a good sale except maybe the sex appeal of a man
• too many times people follow the line of least resistance, but a good line is hard to resist
• hating people won’t make you pretty
• there is a song lyric for every situation life throws at you
• value instantly increases on anything you are told you can no longer attain
• the grass isn’t always greener
• silence is a girl’s loudest cry
• genies shouldn’t limit wishes
• it is better to be looked over than over looked

Confession! Just a few paragraphs ago, I lied. A lot has changed about me since I was a little girl… maybe not the foundation of who I am or my basic look, but I have indeed changed. Even in the past few months I’ve changed… A LOT-- some for the good, some for the bad.

“For as much as she stumbles, she’s running…. For as much as she runs, she’s still here... May the damage of her days disappear…” Thanks Eli Young for writing lyrics for my situation right this very minute. Notice: what I am about to share is my most important belief of all:

I believe above all else, everything I am NOT makes up everything I am.

Just because I wander, doesn’t mean I am lost. I’m still here. It’s still me. Grown up, learning, and more ready than ever to rule the world… Well, maybe not THE world, but at least MY life!

I Know Why Housewives Are Desperate

Hi Ho! Hi Ho! It’s off to work I go… Ever since I was old enough to earn some sort of money I did. Starting with chores and babysitting progressing into working 3 part time jobs while being a full time student with no less than 18 hours, to graduating and settling into a “normal” 40 hour work week. I sometimes in the past slightly, every now and then, for a brief moment in time pondered what it would be like to have pursued a degree in MRS instead of a BBA in Marketing and Real Estate. Well almost exactly two years later after first having that wonderment cross my mind, it happened. I entered into the Stepford Society: the world of the trophy wife or as I refer to my newly earned title: executive domestic engineer.

I enjoyed it for a mere three weeks before I started to go crazy. I am use to moving at oh, I don’t know, 100 miles per minute. I was constantly doing something or going somewhere, projects and deadlines, schedules and routines, so ambitious that there was nothing you could add to my schedule I would not accomplish. The day I realized this new title fit me as well as a hotdog bun fits a hamburger was when my largest daily accomplishment was getting out of the dryer the same number of socks I put into the washer. I fully understand why many housewives are desperate. The hours are long (in fact, never ending), you become devalued and your work is underappreciated. Tasks are tedious, redundant and you have no intellectual stimulation from another adult until after 5 when you get to hear the grunt of how “work” went for your significant other and how tiresome the real world is as though you yourself were never apart of the workforce. And you don’t get a paycheck… you can’t even afford the “bla” part of Blahnik!

This new “career” is similar to how I once envisioned Corporate America: the title, the  “luxurious” corner office with a view and paychecks so big my Manolo collection would need its own room. That too, turned out to be just a liiiilll different than I could have imagined; more like an uncomfortable chair that annoyingly rocked side to side in a cube surrounded by nothing by gray walls, and I cared more about getting up to go to the bathroom than the actual paycheck or benefits. It was never more obvious to me how far Monday was from Friday and how close Friday was to Monday.

I have no desire in my heart to live in a Danny Tanner universe where Tuesdays comprise of vacuuming and Wednesdays are delegated to organizing sock drawers and doing laundry. This is neither therapeutic nor enjoyable to me. I will do these things only because it is necessary, but don’t want to feel it is a part of my job description.

I misplaced my ability to “do it all.” This “executive domestic engineer” business is not easy, but I am about to take on the project: Operation Homeowner. It is imperative that I allocate time to not only wear the hat of “trophy wife” but also that of painter, organizer, insurance/satellite/electric negotiator, decorator, cook (my aprons are calling my name!), and party hostess. [the last three I don’t mind in the least]

As Mae West once said, “I used to be Snow White, but I drifted.” I loved being domestic before I was forced to be domestic daily. I don’t want to feel my worth and value to be assessed by how well I can maintain a cleaning schedule or on my ability to make a bed, load and unload a dishwasher, and vacuum in straight lines. Perhaps one day I will change my mind when I have a family or 7 dwarfs to take care of, but right now this lifestyle is not my favorite.

I want a schedule, a reason to get out of bed, a place to dress up— let’s face it, the dishwasher doesn’t appreciate pearls, heels and lip gloss. I intend to change my current situation. However, since it is possible the next door that is opened could turn out to be a witch with a disguised poisonous apple, I am choosing to learn to appreciate my title while I have it. I am also not overlooking how grateful I am that being an “executive domestic engineer” is an option while I find out what career path is the best fit for me. The Manolo Blahnik of careers. Notice the wording… I don’t want a job. I feel j.o.b stands for “just over broke” and that is not my favorite either. I already experienced this first hand. It was about as fun as scrubbing a toilet without pink rubber gloves.

I will always be an “executive domestic engineer,” but by choice. I also might be Snow White again, but probably only on Halloween.

Disciplined Indulgence: Inner Beauty is for Amateurs

Uneven bars, floor routines, and tumble tracks all entertained me as a child, but my most favorite apparatus in the gym was the balance beam. I never fully was aware of how important the skill of balancing would become to my daily grownup life. At the time I was more worried about learning how to turn on one foot and how to perfectly land my dismount… and honestly, a bigger fear was making sure my orange glittery nail polish (named Boys Drool) matched my bright blue multi-colored polka dot leotard. I learned at a young age how important it was to dress for your itinerary.

Perhaps that was the reason my first phrases as a child were “Money for Macy’s” and when my dad would kindly reply with the question, “How much?” I would sweetly ask for, “Thirty bucks please.” If karma comes in the form of your kids, I am in T-ROUBLE!

Anyway, a few weeks ago, my sister came to me with a quote she had found online:

“The average woman would rather have beauty than brains

because the average man can see better than he can think.”

We both got a great laugh out of this. Though it made me really wonder is this true? Are you willing to sacrifice brains for beauty? When consulting with a plethora of friends over this topic, I got responses ranging from a simple “yes” or “no” to “I have enough brains to figure out how to be beautiful”… to “I like to think of my husband as the brains behind my beauty and it makes us actually work really well” – thinking to myself later, what the heck does that even mean?!

Then one late night a simultaneous phone conversation and facebook chat with two great friends occurred and we all came to the SAME conclusion at the SAME time. It must be divine intervention because not just one, but THREE light bulbs went off. I feel my friend stated it best when he typed, “I couldn’t be with someone I wasn’t attracted to, nor could I be with someone who I couldn’t have a conversation with.” 110% Agree; conclusion: everything is a balancing act. I would like to mention that as important as it is for a female to have both beauty AND brains in order to attract a decent male companion, it is also important for men to have intellect and good looks as well. We don’t want to find out our knight in shining armor is really some idiot in tinfoil.

Similarly to the relationship advice my father always gives, “…learn to pick and choose your battles. It’s always about give and take, Amber… yada yada” I feel again like this is proof there are things in life we have no choice but to balance.

Here is a short list of things in life I sometimes struggle with balancing…

1. Give and Take

2. Pain and Pleasure

3. Sweet and Sour

4. High Maintenance and Low Key

5. Work and Play

6. Saving and Spending

7. Indulging in Sweets and Working Out

Currently, I am reading two books. (I have successfully catapulted down the path of reading as my new hobby) The second one that just arrived is FABULOUS, so incredible that Hollywood turned it into a movie which I am choosing not to see until I have completed this book. Shouldn’t be too hard because until I started writing this blog, I haven’t been able to get my eyes off the text of Eat, Pray, Love.

This book is providing words that I desperately needed to hear. Elizabeth Gilbert writes of her journey to find balance by taking a year long trip around Italy, India, and Indonesia. She sought after the things I am currently seeking. “I want to learn how to live in this world and enjoy its delights, but also devote myself to God.” … “I want worldly enjoyment and divine transcendence- the dual glories of a human life… the singular balance of the good and the beautiful…”

As difficult as it is to sometimes balance beauty and brains, I am fully prepared to immerse myself in one of the toughest balancing acts to date. Through text and prayer I will seek purpose, significance, and the essential balance my heart and life require. One step at a time, one foot in front of the other; just like walking across the balance beam. Practice makes perfect.

I am fully aware of the discipline this will require and fully unaware of when I will achieve it. I intend to move from anxiety to peace and will send you a postcard when I get there.

Temptation Island

Is it possible for a love affair to last forever?


Heaven knows, a healthy shopping habit can deplete a girl’s funds faster than the bat of my blue eyes… Too bad shopping is my favorite hobby. It is safe to say that I love everything about it, but my expeditions have been squelched by poverty. So instead, I had no choice but to cheat on shopping… This summer I had an affair with the sun, the country, the Brazilian Butt Lift, and getaways. I became addicted.


In the beginning, I tried to take up window shopping, but it was too hard. Each time I saw that dreaded four letter word: SALE, I felt forced to add to my fashion collection. Probably a good thing I am not a fan of the “look but don’t touch method” since online shopping does not appeal to me!


This reminds me of a story my pastor told the first Sunday I visited church in Argyle. He was a youth pastor at the time and his beautiful wife was in law school at OU. (Boomer!) She too has a love for fashion and is also a fellow Limited shopper. Her biggest weakness is blue jeans. He would preach, she would attend the first of 3 services and then would head to the mall. After several months of repeat blue jean purchases, my pastor felt it was time to have a “Come to Jesus meeting” over funds and hobbies.


“Wife, because I love you, I want to support you and your hobbies. However, due to current circumstances and money being extremely tight, do you think you could go to the mall and just not buy anything?”


“Well, husband, because I love you, I can try. But what if I see a pair of jeans on sale for a great deal?”



“Then go try them on if you must, but then visualize the devil since he is the one that tempts us and you won’t even want them anymore”



“Okay, I will do that for you.”



[one week later]



“Hey Honey… can you come in here? whats this bag on the bed?”



“That’s my new pair of jeans… only $20 on sale!”



“What happened to our agreement?”



“Well, I remembered it. I did exactly what you said… I went by Limited, saw a great pair of jeans… on sale AND in my size… Then I tried them on. And as I was looking in the mirror thinking to myself how cute they looked, I visualized the devil behind me… “



“So what happened? What went wrong?”



“Well I said out loud these jeans look great from the front… then the devil said, ‘they look great from back here too!’ So I just HAD to get them!”



Unlike my pastor’s wife, jeans will never be a weakness of mine. Shoes on the other hand are a different story… You see, shoes are NOT just footwear. They have some sort of mysterious super power —a practical pair, a fun pair, a pair you have nothing to wear with… flats, flip flops, stilettos, even tennis shoes—all shoes allure us girls. Best stated by the company titled, Jesus Had A Sister:

They are more than a love affair, shoes are an addiction.

Probably because you never have to diet in order to wear them!

I quit shopping cold turkey, and now I am having awful withdrawals. I ventured to the mall two weeks ago with a friend and sounded like a 5 year old kid who believes fully in the power of a tantrum, as I reached for a pair of sky high tan, yellow and brown snakeskin pumps, whining, “I waaaaannnt these!!!” Truly pathetic, I will admit.


I can now cope with those who are trying to quit other addictions like smoking. It’s not nearly as easy as one would think. I always want to leave a forwarding address after I flea from temptation. So can my love affair on shopping last forever? Well, the summer is coming to an end—there will be no more lay out and tan under the sunshine days and no more random Tuesday visits to the country, but I will always have the Brazilian Butt Lift and the ability to getaway once in a semi-annual sale. (Just kidding!) Perhaps I can cheat on shopping with something that can last year round. Okay, maybe not cheat… that sounds awful, but instead I can replace shopping with a new hobby… like working out, reading, and organizing. I feel those things are more beneficial for my health and the budget anyway.


Lesson Learned. Not all love affairs can last forever, but you can replace them with something much better: a stable relationship. So long Southlake Stilettos, Hello Adidas Running Shoes!


Oh Treadmill, I hope you never get sick of me. You’ve just become my new getaway. And books my new hobby... Congratulations.