Spring Break Here I Come!

This week cannot come fast enough. Not that I have anything major planned, but Spring Break for me just reminds me that the school year is almost over. Instead of getting a full week off like I am used to, we only get Wednesday-Friday off. Apparently, it's so we get out two days earlier in May, but as it stands right now, we are going to school until May 27th anyway. So instead of being bored after a few days, I am going to revel in my three days.

I thought I had plans made with a friend, but I'm thinking those plans may be on the back-burner for now due to situations out my control. I definitely want to clean house, work outside just a bit, relax, put up my new scrapbook shelf, relax, work on some home projects, scrapbook, and relax. Did I mention I want to relax? It's not that my life has been totally wound uptight lately, but I just want to keep moving forward. No matter what is getting in my way, I have decided to move forward and not look back. I know this may sound corny, but I was watching season 1 of "Reba", and she said a line that struck a chord with me. Her advice to her daughter was this: "You can't mourn the rest of your life just because things didn't turn out how you always imagined they would." BINGO! I'm trying to take this to heart.

Okay, so this blog post didn't turn out exactly how I had planned either, so I'll end with commenting on the new book I'm reading. Actually, I'm in the middle of two, but one is here at home and the other is at school. The Shack, by William P. Young, is turning out to be everything I had heard. Kodi, I think you were the first person to tell me about this book, and now that others have read it and offered it to me, I can honestly say, "Why didn't I read this sooner??" So far, I'm only halfway into it, and it is definitely making me think of my own spiritual journey. For those of you who haven't read it, the book begins with a man, Mack, and his family. They are the typical family who loves each other but something tragic occurrs within the first few pages--Mack's youngest daughter is kidnapped and murdered while the family is out camping. Fast-forward a few years and the family is now in turmoil. Mack receives a note, presumably from God, telling him to go back to the shack where his daughter's bloody dress was found. When he arrives, he encounters a God like he's never witnessed or ever heard about. This is where I am right now. This book opens your eyes to all the endless possibilities about love and God's work. It is a must-read for sure!

An 80s girl at heart

A few weeks ago, we had "Flashback Day" at school as part of our Courtwarming Spirit Week. Of course, once I learned what that meant, I immediately knew I had to go in some 80s gear. The kids loved it and couldn't believe that I used to wear stuff like that. Now that I see the picture of me, neither can I!!

I found this commentary online, and I thought it would be appropriate to re-post on here. No author's name was attached, so whoever you are, thanks for memories. (I did change one detail just to make it more suitable for me.)

"Children of the Eighties"

We are the children of the Eighties. We are the ones who played with Lego Building Blocks when they were just building blocks and gave Malibu Barbie crewcuts with safety scissors that never really cut.

We collected Garbage Pail Kids and Cabbage Patch Kids and My Little Ponies and Hot Wheels and He-Man action figures and thought She-Ra looked just a little bit like I would when I was a woman. Big Wheels and bicycles with streamers were the way to go, and sidewalk chalk was all you needed to build a city. Imagination was the key. It made the Ewok Treehouse big enough for you to be Luke and the kitchen table and an old sheet dark enough to be a tent in the forest.

Your world was the backyard and it was all you needed. With your pink portable tape player, Debbie Gibson sang back up to you and everyone wanted a skirt like the Material Girl and a glove like Michael Jackson's.

Today, we are the ones who sing along with Bruce Springsteen and The Bangles perfectly and have no idea why. We recite lines with the Ghostbusters and still look to The Goonies for a great adventure. We flip through T.V. stations and stop at The A Team and Knight Rider and Fame and laugh with The Cosby Show and Family Ties and Punky Brewster and what you talkin' 'bout Willis? We hold strong affections for The Muppets and The Gummy Bears and why did they take the Smurfs off the air?

After school specials were only about cigarettes and step-families, the Pokka Dot Door was nothing like Barney, and aren't the Power Rangers just Voltron reincarnated? We are the ones who still read Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys, the [Sweet Valley High] Twins, Beverly Clearly and Judy Blume, Richard Scary and the Electric Company. Friendship bracelets were ties you couldn't break and friendship pins went on shoes - preferably hightop Velcro Reebox - and pegged jeans were in, as were Units belts and layered socks and jean jackets and jams and charm necklaces and side pony tails and just tails. Rave was a girl's best friend; braces with colored rubberbands made you cool.

The backdoor was always open and Mom served only red Kool-Aid to the neighborhood kids- never drank New Coke. Entertainment was cheap and lasted for hours. All you needed to be a princess was high heels and an apron; the Sit'n'Spin always made you dizzy but never made you stop; Pogoballs were dangerous weapons and Chinese Jump Ropes never failed to trip someone. In your Underoos you were Wonder Woman or Spider Man or R2D2 and in your treehouse you were king.

In the Eighties, nothing was wrong. Did you know the president was shot? Star Wars was not only a movie. Did you ever play in a bomb shelter? Did you see the Challenger explode or feed the homeless man? We forgot Vietnam and watched Tiananman's Square on CNN and bought pieces of the Berlin Wall at the store. AIDS was not the number one killer in the United States. We didn't start the fire, Billy Joel.

In the Eighties, we redefined the American Dream, and those years defined us. We are the generation in between strife and facing strife and not turning our backs. The Eighties may have made us idealistic, but it's that idealism that will push us and be passed on to our children - the first children of the twenty-first century. Never forget: We are the children of the Eighties.