This morning I went to church at Willow Creek because I couldn't get my butt out of bed early enough to go to my usual Lutheran church. Also, I start to miss contemporary worship if I haven't done it in a while. I got a lot out of church this morning. The sermon was about hearing God speak to you through scripture. And that's exactly how it is with me. I don't hear God's voice very often, and I know it's my fault because I'm so bad about prayer and that kind of thing. But when I do hear from God, it's almost always through a Bible verse popping into my head. So I've always thought that I need to be better at memorizing more Bible verses. We had lots of memory work to do for confirmation class and also in college, but I've neglected it since then. Today was a great reminder about what I need to be doing. I now have post-it notes of Bible verses plastered to my bathroom mirror to help me with my memorization.

I also fell in love with a song that a soloist did at church this morning. She sang a Sara Groves song called "He's Always Been Faithful." She sounded just like Sara Groves and it was absolutely gorgeous. I wanted to post a video of her singing it, but all I could find on YouTube was this lame video of rainbow pics. So listen to the song and ignore the video. :)

Faye reminded me how awesome this song is the other day. I thought I'd post it for everyone's viewing pleasure.

This weekend was absolutely perfect. Lately I've been feeling like there's just so much joy in my life. I love it.

Thursday night I played tennis with Nina and kicked her butt. I was just joking when I was trash talking her (we've never been competitive before, at least when it comes to tennis), but it felt really good to win 7 out of 9 games. And after taking lessons this summer, my serve won't hold me back anymore. I can't wait. Also, I just have to say that one of my favorite sounds in the world is my sneakers squeaking on the tennis court.

Friday night I went over to Jen and Ray's, where I got to see my adorable Goddaughter, Parker.


She is 9 months old now, crawling, pulling herself up, cruising... My favorite is when she plays Peek-a-Boo. She does it backwards; she holds something in front of her face, then pulls it down and waits for you to say "Peek-a-boo." Adorable.


Saturday night I went to DC's and danced my butt off for hours. I realized that another favorite sound of mine is everyone's boots stomping on the dance floor during songs like "Honky Tonk Badonkadonk" and "Pride and Joy." I also realized why I love dancing with Rachel and Kelly so much- they have the same grins on their face as me. It just makes me so happy. And I've learned so many of the dances now that I can be out there almost the whole time.

Faye and I went hiking on Sunday at Castle Rock State Park. Neither of us had been there before. It wasn't as cool as Mattheissen, but it was still really pretty and peaceful. I don't get to see the following views in the city:




Those wildflowers are my favorite color.

We also encountered a meadow. I have been dreaming for months of finding a gorgeous meadow to lay in like Bella and Edward, totally deserted and beautiful. This meadow was certainly beautiful. But it occurred to me that there is a problem with this fantasy: meadows usually have really tall grass.


Not exactly conducive to laying down. The grass isn't all mowed and soft, and there are probably ticks or other nasty bugs in there. Maybe I'd be better off in my parents' backyard.

On Monday I went to see my parents. I left their house with:

- a vacuum
-2 boxes of protein bars
-quarters for laundry
-a guitar
-a feather duster
-a bottle of acai berry juice
-a new mattress (well, that's actually being delivered in 2 weeks)
-a lot of good advice

I feel like Theo Huxtable sometimes when I go see them. They are so good to me. They listened to me freak out about my future, then gave me very calm and wise advice. I felt very comforted when I left there.

So the weekend was pretty much perfect. I hope this is an indication of what summer will be like. Eight more days!

Last weekend I went to Eureka with one of my favorite friends, Whitney. We've been friends and accountability partners for several years now and never met each other's families, so we decided it was past time to take care of that. I've heard so much about her family; I couldn't wait to meet them.

It was a very relaxing weekend. On Saturday morning we went to the secondhand shop in town, which was an interesting experience. They sell so much random stuff, like these empty containers:



They even sell used underwear. Hilarious. They are owned by the Mennonites, so there are signs like this displayed throughout the store:


After lunch we headed over to the sesquicentennial celebration (is that how you spell that?). The description in the paper sounded really exciting: people in period costumes, reenactments, demonstrations, and a medicine man show. I was especially looking forward to the stained glass exhibit.

It ended up being extraordinarily lame. The stained glass exhibit was a guy sitting at a table with 2 or 3 stained glass pieces. We'd been hoping for something a little more exciting.

We also saw a few animals:




I was really looking forward to the medicine man show. I love nostalgic stuff like that, and the guy was a ventriloquist, which I thought would be awesome. It was not. You could see his mouth moving, and his voice didn't even change. Also, the jokes were terrible. I am usually a fan of bad jokes, but these were beyond bad.


But the outing was redeemed by some delicious ice cream from the Dairy Barn across the street.

Later in the afternoon, Whitney and her dad took me on a little tour of the town. It's really cute. The highlight of the tour was Eureka College, where Ronald Reagan went. It's a beautiful little campus, and they have a piece of the Berlin Wall. It doesn't look very exciting, but I started thinking about all the pain and sadness associated with it and was very glad I got to touch it.


We had a nice dinner with Whitney's whole family in Peoria, and then they gave me a tour of the town including Bradley, where Whitney went to college.

Then it was time to go to The Outpost, one of the two bars in town. I was thinking it would be like something from Sweet Home Alabama. I expected it to be crowded and loud and filled with country boys. Once again, it didn't quite live up to expectations. There weren't tons of people there, and everyone was just crowded around the TVs watching Nascar. Ugh. I forgot that people in the country like Nascar. We didn't stay long.

On Sunday morning I couldn't resist the lure of the Super Walmart in the next town, so Whitney's mom volunteered to go shopping with me. We had fun; she is a really sweet lady who just talks and talks. But that makes her easy to be with, and I really enjoyed her company.

Back at Whitney's, we pulled out the old photo albums. So much homemade dress hilarity! I think Whitney's childhood was very similar to mine. Whitney's mom made us a delicious lunch, and then it was time for us to get back to Chicago.

So it doesn't sound like a very exciting weekend, but it was nice. The best part was definitely getting to know Whitney's family. Her dad is quiet, but when he talks, he is pretty funny. Whitney has always predicted that her sister and I would really like each other, and we did. She's such a sweetheart, and just hilarious. (The whole family is funny.) Whitney's 7-month old niece is completely adorable; we spent a lot of time just watching her play. And Whitney's mom is completely opposite of Whitney; it was great to finally meet her and see that for myself after hearing so much about her. So I really enjoyed Eureka. It was great to be in a small town for the weekend, and I love Whitney's family. I hope I get to see them again soon!

Pete is not a vegetarian. I played a little joke. He was really irritating me the other night and arguing with me about being a vegetarian. He commented that that would be one of the worst names someone could call him. "Oh really?" I commented as I moseyed over to the computer. I wrote the previous post, then asked a few friends to text him and say, "Hey, I heard this rumor that you've gone vegetarian." And when he asked where they heard that, they would say, "On Erin's blog." It all went according to plan. He called around midnight that night to ask what was going on, and I said, "You should hear what people are saying about you on the internet." I love that Nancy called him a hipster in her comment... that's like, one of the worst things you could call him. Anyway, he kept saying, "That is effed up!" But it sounded like he thought it was funny, too.

So I thought it was pretty hilarious until he showed up at my house at 12:30 that night, wanting a Snack Pack or some pizza. I tried to ignore my phone, but then he saw that my windows were open and pulled a Streetcar Named Desire: "Erin! Erin!" I didn't want him to wake up my neighbors, so I had to let him in. Jerk. So he got me back by ruining a good night's sleep.

Pete is a vegetarian.

One of my text conversations today went something like this:

Pete: I love DePaul girls.

Me: I love wearing my flowy skirt and flip flops and doing double dutch.

Pete: I love getting commission checks.

Me: I love hope and possibility... You are loving a lot of things today.

Pete: I love everything.

Me: Not true.

Pete: What don't I love?

Me: Girls who don't shave. The pitcher for the Sox. Clingy girls. See, I listen. What don't I love? Besides my class.

Pete: No idea.

I started thinking about what I don't love. And by the way, saying I don't love my class isn't true; I do love them all individually. So after school, I asked Michelle. "Can you name something I don't love?" Michelle replied that I love everything, but then thought about it and said, "Meat." And then we got deep and decided I don't love myself.

Then LaJoya joined the conversation, and we started discussing things Michelle doesn't love. People who act like administrators. PBIS. "Can you name something that's not school related?" Michelle asked. "Your neighbors," I said. "When Erin doesn't listen to you and you have to pinch her!" LaJoya exclaimed. But it was hard to think of things that someone doesn't love. It's much easier to think of what they love.

So here is a list of things I don't love.

• The sound of my alarm clock
• Three's Company
• Doing dishes
• Soccer
• Flying
• Math
• The word "tummy"
• The Little House on the Prairie books
• Meat
• George W. Bush, Glenn Beck, and Bill O'Reilly
• Designer knock-offs
• Textbooks, especially basals
• People who don't recycle
• The Sox
• Bad grammar
• Elmo
• Racist jokes
• Things that are tight around my neck- turtlenecks, chokers, etc.
  
• Butterflies
• Keeping track of money
• Toby Keith
• Movies that don't end happily ever after

This list is by no means comprehensive. But it was fun to think about while I was bored in class.

I set my alarm for 6:45, five minutes later than usual, because it just looked so much nicer than 6:40. I usually spend time checking email and stuff in the morning, but I figured I just wouldn't do that today. I walked into work exactly five minutes late.

When I went to tell my principal about the vandalism in my classroom, she informed me that my autistic student urinated all over in both stairwells yesterday, and then I went to my classroom, and C came in to talk to me about a surprise shower. Even though she was pleasant, I still don't like talking to her.

I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

My kids were loud and disrespectful when I was trying to teach, and the most popular couple in the class broke up, so there was all kinds of drama, and we didn't even get to go outside for recess.

I think I'll move to Australia.

I saw my principal later in the day, and she asked me when I was going to get my reading certification. She implied that wants me to be the school's Title 1 teacher next year. She said I can't be unless I'm highly qualified.

"Don't they make any exceptions?" I said. " I'll be highly qualified within that school year, and I can take the test this summer, and I already teach reading anyway."

It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

That's what it was because I had to cancel my strength training session for today. "That's okay," Julie said. "I'll see you in a few days."

"In a few days", I thought, "I'm going to Australia."

On the way home I stopped my the bank and noticed there were police cars in front of the bank across the street. I figured there must have been a bank robbery and forgot about it until I got on the expressway and traffic wasn't moving at all. There was a car chase following the bank robbery and the car crashed and there was a shoot out and a police officer was shot and two suspects were caught but the third one was trying to escape on foot, and so the whole expressway was a crime scene and was closed right where I needed to be. It took me two hours to get home.

It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

I tried to sign up for the June date for the reading test, but it's an extra $90.

I forgot to do a paper that's due tomorrow that I haven't even done the reading for.

I watched last night's episode of Gossip Girl where Blair and Chuck finally got together, but just got depressed because I can't imagine ever being that happy and in love.

The Cubs lost, I don't get to go to the Mormon Tabernacle choir concert in St. Louis, and I feel like I can't breathe.

It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

I guess some days are like that.

Even in Australia.

When I was little, I was so terrified of storms that I would throw up. My mom used to buy me all kinds of books about storms to show me there was nothing to be afraid of, but they had no effect; I would still puke. I was young enough that I only have a vague memory of this. I also remember how, when it stormed at night, my parents would hold my ears for me. And my mom was better at it than my dad.

I don't know when this shifted to fascination, but for years now, I've wanted to go storm chasing. I really really really want to see a tornado. I know Tom Skilling has this trip you can go on, but I think it's in April, so that won't work with my teaching schedule. But I have to find a way to do this. I've been unsuccessful in my solo attempts so far.

Last year I went to Cedar Point with my mom and some extended family. I was alone in the room when the tornado sirens started going off. A quick viewing of the Weather Channel revealed that there were several tornadoes in the area. After hearing the street names where they'd been spotted and the direction they were traveling, I took off running for my car. Looking back, I realize this may not have been the brightest idea since I was unfamiliar with the area and did not have GPS or anything. But from the way I was traveling I should have driven right into it. Sadly, I saw nothing. And on top of that disappointment, I had to listen to my mom freaking out- she was less than thrilled when she called and found out where I was.

Tonight there is a tornado watch, but I don't want to see a tornado in the city; I think that would be pretty scary because, well, by the time you saw it it would be a few blocks away, and I don't want to get that close. But I would like to see some more hail. I threw my coat on and ran to the door in an attempt to go play in it, and by the time I got to the door, it had stopped.

So anyway, I am adding to my list of things to do this summer: Go storm chasing.

Work was just awful yesterday. I try so hard to be positive, but some days, it's just impossible. Monday was great. We played a game that went so well, and I was so encouraged. And then yesterday, the girl drama resurfaced and girls were literally screaming at each other. On top of that, I realized that my class lacks integrity. That's the word I've been looking for all year. Every time I turn my back, someone's trying to see what they can get away with. They're just not good people. A huge part of the problem is the parents. But I have some great parents whose kids are still crazy. I just don't get it. And since they get no real consequences for their actions, the behavior continues and escalates.

I was in such a terrible mood yesterday that, when I got to the gym, my trainer immediately commented that I looked like I was going to cry. I didn't feel like crying, though. (I'm not a crier.) I just want this year to be over.

My friend Nancy's kids are jerks, too. She spent a lot of money creating a beautiful classroom library for them. She had meetings during the day yesterday, and when she came back to her room, it was destroyed- furniture broken, gum in the carpet, books torn apart. What's wrong with these kids?

No integrity.

Today my class is writing about integrity all day. Probably not the best way to teach it and make them want to have it, but they're on punishment. We were supposed to read The Outsiders since we just finished the book, but I can't reward yesterday's behavior. I'm going into professional bitch mode. I'm going to take a Xanax and remind myself that I only have to do this 17 more times. I can do this.

Sarah posted a link to this blog on Facebook. So funny.

www.cakewrecks.blogspot.com

The best part is the post called "Happy Falker Satherhood."

Paula!!!!!!

Okay Paula, you said I should add you to my list of things to do this summer, but this seems a little inappropriate. Perhaps I should change it to:

Visit Paula and her family in Portland!!!!!!

I'm going to try. I really am. I will most likely use student loan money to do it, but I've always wanted to go there. And I miss you like crazy.

If I come visit, can we go to a meadow like the one Bella and Edward went to?

And can we go to Donald Miller's church?

Yesterday couldn't have been better.

I went to church.

I went out to Naperville and surprised my parents with a visit.

All four of us went to my grandma's and brought her a pie.

We watched the Cubs game and teased my dad for being so petulant. He would leave the room every time things got intense, and even when they won, he still wasn't happy. His comment was that they should have done better. Grandma then told us stories about our grandpa and great-grandpa's love for the Cubs. Apparently my great-grandpa, who was a pastor, used to sneak out of church functions to listen to games.

I attempted to climb the tree in my grandma's front yard and discovered that I have no upper body strength.

I played the piano. I sucked because I haven't played in a really long time, but it felt so good.

My mom gave me a bouquet of lilacs from the yard, and now my apartment smells heavenly.

My dad gave me one of many boxes of my old books for me to sort out.

I got dinner from Noodles.

What could be better? It was so nice to spend the day with my family yesterday.

Mother's Day is a holiday I'm somewhat ambivalent about.

My mom is not a sentimental person. At all. We show our love to each other in lots of ways, but it's very rare that we're all mushy and "I love you" with each other. Actually, this year I got her a nice Mother's Day card instead of a funny one, and I got made fun of. But she knows I love her; I got her and my dad tickets to see Star Trek at the IMAX last night. And this summer, I'm taking her to the U.P. to see glowing mushrooms. If that's not love, what is?

With my birthmom, I'm never sure what I'm supposed to do. I love her to death; she's one of my favorite people in the world. But I can never remember what I did for Mother's Day the year before, so I'm always trying to figure something out. I'm bad with sending cards on time, and I can't afford a gift. Maybe I'll just call her later. Lame, I know.

Then I start thinking about myself as a mother. I got to experience what it's like to be a mom for 9 months. I always tell people I never understood what love is until I found out about Jacob. So it's weird because I got a glimpse of what it's like to be a mom, and it was completely amazing, but very brief and incomplete.

So yeah, Mother's Day is not my favorite.

P.S. My cousin Amber just put this pic on Facebook, and I think it's hilarious. My dad's making a funny face, but besides that, you can tell he is not-at-all thrilled to be in Florida. My mom always makes weird faces in pictures. This one actually isn't that bad- usually she's attempting to smile, but the look on her face says "screw you" because she hates pictures. My jeans are so high they look like grandma jeans, and what's up with my bangs? Although despite this, when Pete saw this picture last night, he said, "Wow, you used to be pretty." Thanks, Pete. Jerk. Anyway, Andy's the only one who looks decent. I love it.

Right now, at this moment, I want to...

-Stand with my feet in the ocean and let the warm waves crash into me

-Go to a used bookstore and buy a whole bag of old romance novels and read them all

-Lay in a meadow and be completely alone

-Get in the car and head west

-Smell some lilacs

-Dance to "Redneck Girl" at DC's

Last night I was feeling like this song:



I was honestly upset last night, but I'm pretty much over it this morning.

Also, today I'm wearing khaki capris. I'm so happy to be wearing capris, but I'm afraid they're too long and look like floods. If my students make fun of me, I will definitely have hurt feelings.

But I'm so excited for this weekend!!!!!!!!!!!!

Last weekend I went up to Devil's Lake to do some serious hiking. Well, as serious as you can get when there are no real mountains in the midwest. And without going overnight, because the idea of an overnight hike sounds amazing, but I think the reality would suck considering how much I hate camping.

Nancy was supposed to come with me, but she had to cancel at the last minute for totally valid reasons. (Don't worry, Nancy, I promise I'm not mad.) So I went alone, and I think maybe it was better that way. When I was climbing up the west bluff (which totally kicked my butt for some reason), I could stop and rest and not worry about slowing someone down. Conversely, when I started listening to the Ting Tings on my iPod and was super energized, I didn't have to worry about someone slowing me down.

Here are a few of the views from the west bluff and a bad picture of me:



The east bluff was a lot more interesting and higher than the west bluff (but for some reason, easier to climb). Some of the views made you feel like you were on a small mountain.



My pictures don't do it justice; you can't tell how high up I really was.

After all that going up, I had to get down somehow. I knew there were some easier trails, but of course, I wanted to take one of the exciting ones. But I definitely wasn't expecting this:


I thought to myself, "This is where I'm going to die." Because I'd climbed on a few of these rocks earlier in the day, and they are slippery. Way too slippery for sneakers. It was kind of funny; everyone was worried about me hiking alone, but that wasn't the problem- it was my inappropriate footwear. There were a lot of people rock climbing there, so plenty of people would have seen me fall to my death. But it was actually a lot of fun (of course) because of that element of risk. I didn't fall till I got to the bottom; I got overconfident on the last few rocks and was kind of hopping from rock to rock and fell on my butt. Glad no one saw. As soon as I finished I wanted to go again, but there was no way I was hiking back up that cliff.

So Devil's Lake was great, and I can't wait to go back and try the other trails.

My friend at work kept telling me to watch The Biggest Loser. We are all trying to lose weight, and she loves it.

Not a good idea.

It left me feeling depressed rather than uplifted.

I've been working with a trainer for over two months now and have only lost a few pounds. And I say I don't care about the number, but I'll be honest for a moment- I do.

I kept a food diary this week for my trainer and didn't think it was that bad. I'm not great about my diet, but I'm a lot better than I used to be.

She said I'm starving myself.

She doesn't know how I'm alive.

I'm definitely not like, anorexic starving myself. But I got this lecture about how I need to be eating a lot more frequently and I need a lot more protein. She was especially upset about the day my diary looked like this:

10:30- Grapes
12:30- Apple with peanut butter, granola bar
6:30- 2 Cookies
7:30- Granola bar

Anyway, I apparently have to re-train my metabolism, which seems overwhelming. She wants me to start by eating protein bars every morning. That way I'm eating breakfast and getting protein, and she said there are chocolate peanut butter ones so I can get my chocolate fix.

But I can't buy protein bars right now because I already went grocery shopping and bought a painting and now I have no money. So that will have to wait.

And yes, I know that the Biggest Loser people have trainers with them all the time and a special chef. Let me tell you, I would be the healthiest eater if I had a chef. Well, maybe not, because I'd always be asking them to make me rice krispy treats. But it's still discouraging.

I suck at life.

I want to go to fat camp.

There's something satisfying about hearing people say your name. Maybe this sounds weird, but I love it when I call Rachel and she exclaims, "Erin Shmerin!" or when my dad calls me Munch, or when Tim used to call me Erinello. Oddly enough, I also enjoy the occasional "Emma Lou" from my grandma. Even just plain Erin is fine, especially during private moments. I was listening to an episode of This American Life where they were talking about the book "How to Win Friends and Influence People," and one of those ways is to say their names. I agree.

Pete was recently reading my blog (and Pete, that rambling there was just for you), and he seemed fascinated by any mention of his name on my blog. Since he enjoyed it so much, this post is all about him. Pete Pete Pete Pete Pete. Or we could go with Petie, like the neighborhood kids called him, or Peter.

What can I say about my friend Pete? Here are my favorite things about him.

1. He's happy. He's almost always in a good mood because he's very content with his life and is smart enough to realize he doesn't have much to complain about. He doesn't let stuff get to him. This makes him really fun to be around.

2. He's always got some crazy story. Seriously, my life is incredibly boring in comparison to his.

3. He's honest. Well, about some things. I guess I should say he's sincere in his compliments. He is so brutally honest about some things that when he compliments you, you know he means it.

4. He would do anything for his friends.

5. He sends fun texts that make me laugh during an otherwise miserable day at work.

6. He has great taste in movies (in my opinion): White Christmas, Love Actually, West Side Story...

7. He gives good advice and is (almost) always right.

8. He is arrogant in a way that is usually not annoying. Like he is always pointing out how phenomenal his biceps are and stuff like that. I'm hoping some of that confidence rubs off on me.

In conclusion, my friend Pete is awesome. And he knows it. So posting this was probably a mistake, because it will just add to his already massive ego. :)

I bought art today! Sarah's boss owns a gallery up in Michigan, and we went to visit. There were so many amazing things I wanted, and then I realized I could actually afford something! Here's what I ended up with:


It actually looks a lot bigger in the picture than it is in real life. Also, you can't see the pretty colors and textures in this picture. It's painted and collaged on wood, and the bird is a lovely shade of blue. It's actually one in a pair, and the other painting is on hold until I can afford it, which will be soon. The other painting has a bird done in reds and yellows and complements this one perfectly. I can't wait till I have both!

I also bought this little item, a framed print of a World's Fair poster. I liked it because my grandma always tells me about how her parents went to it.