Bite-Sized Countdown

I haven’t been blogging as much lately, and there’s a reason- I don’t really have much to say, which is sort of unusual for me. Well, technically, I have plenty to say, but it’s kind of depressing and would probably just bring you down, and I don’t really like doing that to those kind enough to read my ramblings.

Well, here’s why in a nutshell, just in case you want to know. Summer is hot. College Station is Boring with a capital B. I’m not tan. My waistline is expanding from my desk job. I want to plan my wedding in the actual city that it’s going to be in with my mother. I’m lonely. My fridge and pantry are both empty. My house is incomplete. I have to move soon, against my will. My face won’t stop breaking out. I want a puppy.

Ok, that’s enough of my negativity. Now that I’ve got that out of my system, how about a practice in positive thinking?

I have a pretty ring on my finger, and a handsome fiancé to match. My nails are freshly painted. Friday was payday. Father’s Day was fantastic and refreshing. The Dallas Mavericks are STILL NBA Champs, and I got a t-shirt to prove it this weekend. I picked up my wedding dress this weekend, and I picked my bridesmaid dresses. News from the BFFS back home has been nothing but bliss lately. At least I’m not pastey. At least it’s not traffic-y in College Station. Movies are only $4. I’m being fed well. The hard part of wedding planning is mostly over. There’s usually at least one person at a time in CS that I can call friend. A move will probably help me clean out. A change of scenery might be just what I need. I keep dreaming about puppies almost every night, so maybe that’s a sign. My hair finally faded to the correct shade of brown. Jesus loves me, this I know.

Also, to keep me from absolutely bursting out of my skin with anxiety and anticipation, I created a bite-sized countdown of events to the wedding (one’s that I at least know of right now) to keep me focused on the excitement of each day until then. Please note, 99.9% of these events are not earth-shattering, but they at least help!

P.S. We're 200 days out!

6/25- roommates come back to CS for reunion

7/4- 4^th of July, aka my 2-3^rd-ish favorite holiday

7/15- start the wedding weekend of Ms. Erin Burns!

7/25-31- packing and moving a couple of blocks over

8/2- my 22^nd birthday!

8/15- everyone is pretty much back in town by now

9/4- first Fightin’ Texas Aggie football game at Kyle Field!

9/17- football

9/24- football

10/8- Aggies v. Arkansas at Cowboy’s Stadium, I believe

10/12- Clayton’s 22^nd birthday

10/15- football

10/26- our 5 year dating anniversary

10/29- football

10/31- Halloween Party

October-November- wedding showers galore!

11/5- football

11/12- football

(anyone notice that football gets me through? Sure hope that lockout ends soon)

11/24- Thanksgiving, aka my 1-2^nd-ish favorite holiday

11/25- BLACK FRIDAY SHOPPING (similar to Christmas morning)

12/5-12/8- Travelling to NC for work

12/11-12/16- possibly travelling to PA for work

12/23-1/2- Christmas vacation!

1/5- bachelorette party!

1/6- rehearsal dinner!

1/7- THE BIG DAY!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok. I can do this. Game. Face. On.

My Dallas Heart is Happy

The Dallas Mavericks are the 2011 NBA Champions.

That sentence may not get old for a while. Thus begins my tribute to the Dallas Mavericks, as dramatic of me as ever. J

It all started as a very little girl discovered the NBA for the first time. I had been playing the game of basketball for a few years, but the world of professional basketball hadn’t made its way into my mind and heart just yet. When I was nine, the Mavs were still a far cry from being contenders, even, in the NBA. They still donned green jerseys, short shorts, played in Reunion Arena, and were under the ownership of Ross Perot. Anyone who called themselves a Mavs’ fan at this time was tried and true. You could trust them at their word that they genuinely loved this team of disappointments.

Before the 1998-1999 season, the Mavs took part in perhaps the most lopsided draft day deal in NBA history. They traded Robert “Tractor” Traylor to the Bucks and Pat Garrity to the Phoenix Suns for Dirk Nowitzki and Steve Nash, respectively. The trade, at the time, appeared to be a total bust of a move. A completely naïve, uninformed young girl from North Texas thought otherwise. I was enchanted by Dirk- he was different than other stars. For starters, he was German, tall and lanky, and was a 7-foot jump shooter, for goodness sakes. As a budding young basketball player myself, I liked Dirk for three reasons- he played my position, I thought he played well, and no one seemed to know who he was nor did they care. I just thought he needed a fan.

Several years later, the Mavs started to push themselves into relevancy, and that charge was led by none other than Dirk and Steve themselves. Allie decided she would be Steve’s number one fan, and together we followed the team through years of 82-game seasons and quick playoff runs. We were diehards through and through. As I learned to love the game more, I followed them with greater earnestness, refusing to let anything come between me and those games. For a few of the seasons between 2000 and 2005, I didn’t miss a single game. Even games played on the west coast with late start times didn’t escape my attention, and even when I was repeatedly told it was time to go to bed, I would find a way to sneak the radio in my bed and listen to the game on ESPN Dallas radio. Disobedient though I was, I think my dad must have somehow thought it was cute. He’d punish me, but I think deep down he was thankful for a daughter who shared his same love and passion for Dallas sports. J

Allie and I were Mavs crazy. We wanted all the gear, we wanted to go to as many games as we could, we even stood in line at a Pier One of all places during the middle of a school day to get the autographs of our beloved athletes. Not even a temperature soaring above the 100’s kept me from being there on that day. (So Dirk-like, playing through the fever, right?) I read the sports page every morning, memorized the stats, created passionate viewpoints on the commentary, and cried tears of both joy and disappointment as the Mavs battled their way to become contenders. I wasn’t just an ordinary tomboy- I was still very much a girl, but a girl with an unadulterated heart for her team, for her super star. While commentators would call him irrelevant, soft, unable to carry super star status, I put determined hope into my favorite player from day one.

Through watching the Mavs, I developed all of the necessary attributes required of Mavs’ fans- I couldn’t stand the Lakers and their domination of the game, run-and-gun basketball became my most preferred style, a preternatural bitterness already existed from day one for the San Antonio Spurs, and Mark Cuban, crazy as he was, became my hero for his passion for his team. I even played NBA Live 2000 on our N64 when I wasn’t racing Mario Karts, which greatly contributed to the eerie knowledge I now possess of early 21^st century NBA, a knowledge that still weirds Clayton out every now and then. *In case you were wondering- I was always the Indiana Pacers. Why? Because of Reggie Miller. That fool was 98% from the 3-point line in Nintendo world. (No one was allowed to be the Mavericks because, one, that’s not fair, and two, well the 2000 Mavericks weren’t anything to get excited over anyway. You’d always lose with them, and it’s all about winning, right?)

By 2006, I thought my wait for an NBA championship had come to an end. Don’t get me wrong, I had that same ambition for every season, but seeing us make it all the way to the Finals really had me believing. The stars seemed to be aligned, and after two wins right off the bat versus the Miami Heat, I thought a championship was now an inevitability. Although the Big Three of “Dirty Dirk, Filthy Finley, and Nasty Nash” was officially down to one lone German, the Mavs had made it. However, 4 straight wins later from Miami courtesy of Dwayne Wade, disappointment had a whole new meaning for me. If not now, when?

That was a disheartening loss for me, because everyone seemed to pin the Mavs’ failures on Dirk. As the designated super star, the success and failure all falls on your shoulders by definition of the role. The accusations that he would never be among the great without a ring rang out louder than ever. But Dirk came back with a vengeance with the 2007 Mavs, earning the number one spot in the West and earning himself his first league MVP award. Things seemed to be looking up. However, their first round opponent, the 8^th-seeded Golden State Warriors, was up first. While I was always a believer in the Mavs, I had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn’t to be our year, either. In all of the years I’d watched the Mavs, the Warriors were always a nemesis, and now coached by former Mavs’ head coach Don Nelson himself, I knew our weaknesses would be exploited more than ever before. And I was unfortunately right- we were one and done after an incredibly successful regular season.

A few more years, and a few short runs in the playoffs later, the Mavs were aging and their reign as 3^rd-Best-in-the-West seemed to be permanently established, and on its last leg. Living in College Station for the past four years, it wasn’t a lack of care in this team that caused my drop-off in watching them as much, it was an unavailability of time and TV access to their games. For whatever reason, College Station cable prefers Houston sports over Dallas based on what I can only presume is location instead of excellence, leaving BCS-dwellers in a constant state of “blehhhh” over the unimpressive, boring nature of Houston sports (no hate on my Houston friends, just cold, hard truth) I kept up with them, but my long-ago love affair with them had simply cooled off, but never burned out.

Flash forward to 2011, and the Mavs are in the playoffs. My hope in them is shaky due to the age of this team. It was never that I didn’t believe, rather I bended towards reality- time was not on our side. This was definitely the grittiest, toughest, most defensive-minded team I’d ever seen come out of Dallas, but it still seemed that super star-ness was lacking. However, there was still Dirk, the 10-time All Star with more will to win, more toughness from his journey through this league, and most important to me, more devotion to my city than was warranted. Sure, he wanted a championship like everyone else, but he wanted it for the city that loved him from day one, from the city that had given him his time to shine. He wanted one for Dallas, and he had resolved to not let anything or anyone get in his way. He willed the Mavs to this championship, and I’ve never been more proud of my super star.

Yes, I do call him mine, in the sense that I’ve never loved a player more, never stood by one’s side with hopeless devotion as him, never fallen for an athlete long before his time ever came. He is Dallas’ super star through and through, and I’m proud of the way he represents us. In professional sports in general, there are definitely more pompous, arrogant egomaniacs (similar to people that shall go unnamed in Miami), and Dirk has always had class, from day one. He always has given respect where respect was due, didn’t try to leave Dallas when all signs pointed to the fact that he should, and he has never once gotten hung up on the idea of his own legacy. If anything, he has played that down since day one, never wanting to draw comparisons to Larry Bird and the like that everyone so tries to get him to do. He just loves and plays the game of basketball, and everyone wants to try to make him like all of the other stars- but he’s different, and he always has been. It’s refreshing, and he’s part of a dying breed of athletes that I just want to hold onto and hope for the best in.

The Dallas Mavericks are Dirk’s team, and now that he’s won an NBA Title, he is immortalized here in this city and has secured a place on the short list of greats. It’s been a journey with this team, and because there is no promise of any near-future repeats of this moment, I’m reveling in it, soaking it up for my 9-year-old little heart. So many more words could be said about this team and what they’ve done for Dirk, for Cuban, for Dallas- I’ll save those words for writers much more skilled than I am. All I want to say is what they have done for me- they reminded me just how fun the game of basketball can be, what teamwork means, what humility looks like on a grand scale, what hard work and dedication can accomplish. But more than anything, they gave me a moment to be so proud of a team that had come so far, that I had invested so much time and emotion into, and in that was an insignificant yet totally satisfying sense of completion, that it all meant something in the end. Even though it is only a sport and in my own life has no real weight, there is something special about experiencing success as a city, a communal celebration, a rare unifying experience for the city of Dallas.

Silly as it may seem, it’s been an emotional ride for me over these past 13 years, and I’m unashamed to say I shed a tear when I saw Dirk hoist that trophy that I’ve long believed he deserved. And for a moment, Dallas could not be more proud.

And I could not be more sports-saga dramatic in my writing, but hey, it's who I am, I love sports. :)

I Have a Dream

You know the question, “What do you want to do with your life?” I hate that question. I don’t know the answer to that question. And although I like to think that I wish people would never ask it, secretly I do like it. Because it makes me think, and it challenges me to live above complacency in life. If there is one thing that I hate, it is complacency and incompetence. Ok, that was two things, I always have to slip in that I hate incompetence.

So truly, I do think about it all the time, because I don’t want to merely exist in this life, no one does. And I’ve said it before, a million times on this very blog, that I could certainly find contentment in raising a family, being a good wife, serving in my church, etc., but that’s not passionate living to me. My mother and I have had the conversation countless times about how no one really loves their job. The majority of people out there typically enjoy their jobs to the extent that it is bearable, it pays the bills, and it affords them nice weekends and holidays with the family. I count myself blessed- I have great co-workers, a wonderful boss, and a job that has given me more than my first-year-out-of-college self could have ever asked for. And I have no intentions of leaving whatsoever. Making t-shirts can be a very fun business, especially for campers.

But I have a dream. I do. Some of you out there that know me well are probably laughing because you’ve heard more than once my flighty attempts at embarking on a “dream” career path, a dream that seems to incessantly change. However, there is one that has stood out above the rest, one that has stood the test of time, and although it has changed in many ways as I’ve grown into myself, I can’t ignore it- I love to write. I genuinely love it. Sure I don’t blog all the time, but I write every day. Not always on paper, not always on a blog, but I write my story in my mind and in my imagination every day. You may think that sounds strange, but I know what I mean, that’s all that matters right now.

When I was an awkward pre-teen tomboy, my writing affections centered on the wide world of sports, and I swore up and down I would be the world’s most competent female sports writer (see, the theme of competency, it started at an early age). I read the sports page daily in the Dallas Morning News, and I could see myself on the sidelines, mic in hand, ready to interview men twice my size. (Imagine if I had followed my dream right out of college- I’d be courtside at the NBA Finals, chatting up Dirk after his remarkable Game 4 effort. Watch out, Rachel Nickols. Yeah, right.) In high school, I imagined myself in every outlet in which one can write- novelist, newspaper columnist, magazine editor, public relations specialist, etc.

In college, after one quick and failed attempt at a Journalism 101 class (I got a 100 average, my only in college, but the content and professor killed my dreams) I changed my direction to the world of wedding and event planning. In fact, I changed my whole “career path” to accommodate this new dream. Now, I’m not backing off of that plan entirely after just one year out, but my passion for it decreases with every thought of lost nights and weekends that I treasure so much. That, and bridezillas. Still, in the back of my mind, I never let writing go. I secretly enjoyed my literature classes with sheer joy, I still read for pleasure, I still journaled and wrote to keep my creative juices intact.

Now, in my year after college, I can’t get enough of other peoples’ writing. I am in a book club with a few other ladies (I put years on very quickly after I graduated- after book club tonight, I have Bingo as well, no lie) and I so enjoy the variety they bring in their interests and I love learning something new through the novels. I read articles daily from all different interests, viewpoints, and topics. Blogs are my newest obsession, specifically fashion and lifestyle blogs, and I can’t get over the wittiness and honesty so many of them bring to the table.

So, yes, my writing bug is once again revived, and with it also comes that constant nagging fear that I’ll never be good enough to be “professional.” I’m really ready to nip that in the bud, finally loosen Satan’s foothold on my confidence, and truly aspire to use the talents (?) and passions the Lord has so graciously given to me. He gave them to me for His glory, because in doing something that I love, I can choose to honor Him and point all of my joy to the Creator of it all. Here’s what I’m asking of you:

If you know of any writing jobs, and I mean paying or not, I want them. Here’s the deal- I’ve looked around at what is required of paid writers, and you have to have a resume. Well, somehow I don’t think a future employer would ever take The Beauty of Simplicity as real, quality experience, and I can’t blame them. I’m ready to build a resume, if for nothing else than i get to do something I love in my free time. Let me know- I don’t consider any gig beneath me. Now, you may be saying, “But Raegan, you hardly use proper grammar in your blog posts, how could I trust you with a published piece?” Ah, that is because I use blogspeak on here- yes, that is a real word- and not my MLA-crafted masterpieces. But just ask my high school English teachers, I’m an absolute pro at grammar. As former editor of the Faith Christian School yearbook staff, my former writers can attest to my malicious attacks on their submitted pieces and the power of my mighty red pen that I wielded so liberally in those days.

Sarcasm aside, I do treasure the art of the English language in a completely nerdy, unapologetic way. I will not let you down. Give me a shout if you have any leads whatsoever- and I mean any. I may get nothing out of this initially, but at least I’ve put it out there on the interwebs that I am at least open to the idea of thinking about writing professionally one day. J

Thanks and Gig ‘em!

{Truly} Mythical Greek Gods and My Weird Self

These past few days have been weird. I mean, really not all that weird, but they’ve had their moments. And by weird I really mean I have a few random stories to bore you with from my weekend and the beginning of the work week.

Yeah, it’s really nothing interesting at all now that I think about it. I’m just a little bored, so I thought I’d share.

Ok, so on Friday, Clayton and I drove home again, which is really starting to cost me an arm and a leg. (I don’t know where that expression came from, because if it has any truth to it, I don’t know who would be in the market for used arms and legs?) Gas is expensive, and so is wedding planning. And I guess so are weddings. Well, we didn’t do anything on Friday evening. I think we watched some Everybody Loves Raymond with my parents and Clayton fell asleep on the chair in the fetal position. The chair couldn’t be comfortable for anybody, you know what I mean if you’ve seen it, so I’ve determined he has minor narcolepsy.

Saturday morning I took the girls (meaning Allie, Stephanie, and my mom) to go try on bridesmaids dresses (meaning walk through the mall and make fun of Macy’s formal sales rack). I think we tried on two in all at one bridal shop. The problem is I’ve known since I was negative 3 months old exactly what I want my wedding to look like. You think that’s not a problem, that that’s a good thing? Well, I think so too, except some people think that takes all of the fun out of shopping and planning, namely my mom. Sorry mom, I think I thought it was fun at negative 3 months and now I’m all used up. Just kidding, I could never be all used up for wedding shopping, or any kind of shopping really. I’m just a girl who knows what she wants, now ain’t that right Mr. Clayton Messinger??

We laid out on Saturday. Nothing like spraying on a little tanning oil and praying that I will only receive the good, healthy sun rays and that God would thwart the carcinogenic ones from my path. What can I say, lying motionless by my pool with my favorite girls while we drip with sweat and fry our skin is one of the most deep and sacred forms of fellowship. And it makes my skin glow and temporarily hides the cellulite.

Clayton and I had a hot date on Saturday night. Anamia’s on the parentals= yummy table-side guacamole. Mmm. Then I forced sweetly asked Clayton to take me to Southlake Town Square so I could tearfully pour over Anthropologie for a half hour as he gives my hand spankings when I touch items over $50. Which is no fun, because that’s everything. I can’t touch. This is true love- both the hand spankings and the fact that he takes me to my own form of self-torture. One day we will be filthy rich, right sweetie? I can just see us now- jumping on a mattress tossing (hundred) dollar bills in the air in a room filled with gold and money stacks , laughing giddily. I have a very strange imagination on what it must be like to be rich.

We got to see Emily on Saturday night- what a sweet surprise! It has been almost a lifetime since I’ve last seen her. She is doing well, in case you were wondering. And she is as pretty as ever.

I went to Gateway World with Clayton and Mama and Sister Messinger on Sunday morning. ‘Twas my first time in the new sanctuary, and it was really spectacular, both the building and the worship and message. I only got lost 5 times. No, I didn’t, Clayton made me hold his hand the whole way and said I couldn’t have a lollipop until after lunch or I’d spoil my appetite. (I don’t know why I keep wanting you to imagine him as my father- that’s very weird).

Drove back to College Station= my most depressing moment each week in the summer. Do you know how hard it is to leave your mother and sister to lay by the pool every day to get tanner than you, getting to do interpretive dancing and watch birds and document their weekly nail colors by camera and be waited on by the neighborhood cabana boy? (I swear, I only made up the cabana boy that time.) It’s hard, my friends, very hard. Watching the Mavs lose with only Monday morning ahead- well, that’s just adding insult to injury.

Well, Monday morning came whether I liked it or not. (I didn’t, just for the record.) It was hard, I had to spend my whole lunch break at the post office to order my passport. My stomach was rumbling, that was the hardest part of all. That, or when the post office man asked me where I was going. I said, “On my honeymoon, in January.” He said, “That’s nice- but where?” I just looked at him. I don’t know yet. And then I said, “Oooh, Jamaica sounds nice, doesn’t it?” *insert little Jamaica jig that I did* Then it was his turn to look at me. “Is that actually where you’re going?” “It is now!” So my passport now reads: Countries Visited: Jamaica.

Ok, this is where things got weird (not really, I just wanted to say that). It started to get all dark and rain cloud-y outside, and when I got home from the gym, my power was out. I think lightning hit something. On Bachelorette night, that can only mean one thing- Thor hates me. That, or Hestia (Greek god of food, Wiki that mother) loves me. Because Ozona’s Chicken Sandwich and sweet potato fries were calling my name, and Clayton couldn’t make me stay at home and eat free food because his power was out, too, so there, I win. (Again, with the dad thing…)

Well, the new-age Tivo gods were certainly doing their part, because all but 20 minutes of the Bachelorette got recorded. WIN! Paige came over and we watched the ridiculousness unfold. Bentley is a total tool, nope he’s the whole shed. And he’s also a paid actor by ABC. If you don’t believe that, you are probably naïve because drama is good for the business.

I found out this morning that my wedding dress came in. Which means two things- one, it’s going to be a happy weekend picking up the dress I’m going to walk down the aisle in to have and to hold in my sweet little hands; and two, the sales rep is a total liar. She said it would come in October at the earliest. I don’t know how you mess up 6 months and 3 weeks, but ok yeah, I can see that, you probably could. No way was she just trying to use scare tactics to get me to buy that dress on the spot. But all crazy antics aside, I’m not mad because I’m the one that gets to wear a Vera Wang Lite on my wedding day. I’m sure Hymenaeus (god of weddings) will take care of her wedding day.

Book club is tomorrow and I am only about 2/3 done with my book. If it took me a month to get this far, I really worry for these next 24 hours. I just didn’t get into the story. I’ve learned a lot, but that’s not usually why I read, so that stinks. Plus, the Mavs have a crucial must-win Game 4, and odds are that’s going to come first. Goodness, my parents really made me a cultured woman. I prefer professional sports over historical documentaries 999 out of 1,000 times. Sorry Book Club ladies, I promise I’ll try.

I need to shop. Right now. But my passport cost almost as much as our honeymoon will (no it didn’t) and there’s other more important things like food and shelter to think about (I’m really not that poor) and I’m retroactively paying off my education that was useless (I guess that one’s still debatable). No, that’s just me being dramatic. I really can shop, I just don’t have any good stores here in College Station and Clayton even slaps my hand when I try to purchase Anthro online and I’m scared.

I’m sorry, I keep lying about that, he’s never slapped my hand when shopping anywhere. Maybe I just need him to. Or I could just leave that to Argos (Greek god of shopping- except that was made up, admittedly, by Google, nonetheless).

Happy June!

It’s been a while since my last post. Let me explain- I use all of my free time to be brain dead lately. I love it. Work has been pretty crazy for the most part. Camp season is in full swing and orders have been flying in the doors at record speed, which is wonderful news! But by the end of the day, I’m exhausted and all I want to do is not think. On top of all that, it is summer time, and while summer time looks completely different for me these days, there are still parts of big girl world summer that I relish and enjoy. This summer has already gotten off to a particularly lovely start- my Mavs are in the NBA Finals and Clayton (or should I say Master Chef?) and I have taken advantage of these fun nights by cooking dinner together and relaxing and enjoying the long summer nights. (Oh did I mention- summer nights are my favorite for so many reasons, but one big one is the fact that the sun doesn’t go down until after 9- my days feel exponentially longer!). 

Also, wedding planning is in full gear- who knew 7 months could be so short of an engagement? Actually, I’m very happy with the time frame. It’s just enough time to get everything I want in order but not too long to drive me absolutely crazy and make me question every decision I make! This keeps me busy as well lately, but all of the big decisions have been made- the date, the ceremony and reception locations, the dress, and the wedding party. That was a load off of my back! It really let me enjoy this Memorial Day weekend off, not planning weddings and mainly enjoying the celebration of my dear friend Erin’s coming wedding in July!

On Friday, the future Mrs. Erin Finch and I packed up and headed out for Austin after I got off of work. We had a fun night of dinner and dancing at a restaurant in downtown Austin, and the next morning, her sweet sister had breakfast prepared for us before we hit the road again for San Marcos to float the river. Such a great time of relaxation and catching up with friends. I was THRILLED to spend the next two days working out, lounging in the sun, and enjoying my roommates being back in town. This weekend was truly manna from heaven after all the craziness this past month has brought.

I’m going to stop boring you with the details of my life because, if you haven’t already checked it out, Clayton and I finally have our wedding website up. Woohoo! You’ll have plenty of reading to catch up on from that website alone, and I’d rather you read that anyway since we’ve taken our sweet time in getting it up J

http://claytonandraegan.ourwedding.com/