Why I Love March Madness

Growing up, I would have been considered the sports fanatic in my family -- and that's not saying much. I went to a few spring training games with friends, I tried to catch the big U of A vs. ASU rivalry game every November, and because I was in the school band, I saw all of our football and basketball games by default.

However, the one sporting event I have truly loved since I was young is March Madness. And, thanks to names like Sean Elliot, Steve Kerr, and of course, Lute Olson, Arizona became my team. And while I will always cheer on the Wildcats, I just love the tournament in general. Why?

1. It's something that my husband and I share and enjoy together. In 1997 when the Cats won the championship, it was the single greatest moment of my NCAA-lovin' life. The next year, when Utah took out Arizona in the Sweet 16, it was the greatest moment of Dan's Ute-lovin' life. Every year, we fill out our brackets, and there have been several times that I've done much better than him. And it's paid off. I've won new shoes, massages, and a month's worth of him making the bed. Let's just not talk about this year's brackets, okay?

2. It's just plain fun to walk into various places of business and see all the little brackets posted on the walls. It makes me laugh. It reminds me that we all need a little escape, that tournament brackets, whether you follow the teams or not, are something in which we can all participate. I mean, who would have predicted anything about Harvard this year?

3. Beyond that, March Madness is a good metaphor for life. Not everyone is invited to the party, and not everyone gets a trophy. Sometimes (and this was tough) not even Arizona is invited. Some people show up who have rich and/or famous dads (yeah, Tim Hardaway, Jr.). It's messy and it's sloppy. One moment it's all going your way and the next moment everyone seems to be ganging up on you. It can get ugly -- people lose teeth and break legs. In slow motion, some plays are absolutely beautiful. There are buzzer beaters that take your breath away and you find yourself holding out hope until the very. last. possible. second. And then Cinderella shows up and you HAVE to cheer for the underdog, because what kind of a monster would you be if you always cheered for Duke the #1 seeds? The best, of course, is when your own team is the Cinderella team. And honestly, how can you not love a white kid named Spike who comes into the championship averaging 2 points per game and then scores 17 points in 17 minutes of play? To quote Luther Vandross, he got his "One Shining Moment."

Finally, when you win, it's pure elation. When you lose, you pick yourself up and try again the next year. And THAT'S why I love March Madness. See you next year, boys.

Status Update

Have you noticed in the status bar on Facebook, it asks you some kind of question, like "What's on your mind today?" or "How are you doing?" I'm going to go ahead and answer that today.

I am freaking out, man!

Yeah. Just like that. There's a lot of good stuff happening, but it is also really stressful. The bank denied our loan one week before we were supposed to close on our new house. And it wasn't for any other reason than we were buying the house on a flip. We were told if we would bring them another $45,000, they would approve our loan. Um, I'm sure most people have an extra fifty large just sitting around, but we're not one of them. And that's the whole reason for going to the bank in the first place, right? Fortunately, I called my friend at City 1st Mortgage, and she had me a new loan the very next day. So we're back on track.

Which means that there is packing and sorting and prepping for a garage sale. There are paint colors to pick, and did you know that gray is an impossible color to choose? Fifty Shades of Gray? I don't think so. I bet I looked at 100 shades before I found one that didn't look purple or brown or blue or beige.

And did I mention the cleaning? The new house has been sitting empty for a year, and has accumulated a year's worth of dust and dead flies. Gross, I know. And I'm a firm believer in leaving the old house cleaner than you found it, so there's that.

In the meantime, there are clients who need blog posts and facebook updates and newsletters. And there are children who need dinner. Why do they always need to eat? And they want clean clothes, too.

And then. THEN! There's the big Amazon contest and we are 11 days away from finding out if I am a semi-finalist. Who can concentrate on ANYTHING when I am 11 days away from finding out if I am a semi-finalist?!?!? What? We're buying a house and moving? I had no idea, because I am WAITING TO SEE IF I AM A SEMI-FINALIST!!!!

People, I haven't done my hair once this week! Thank goodness for ball caps and ponytail holders.

To end, I will leave you with a little tip: if you're looking to invest in some stock, consider peanut M&Ms and cherry Coke. I have a feeling there is going to be a surge in demand.

Thank You!

As a personal rule, I believe in being positive. I really don't see the need for negativity; mostly because I'm lazy. It takes way too much effort to be mean and vindictive or an all-around sourpuss. It's just easier to be nice. Remember the penguins from the movie Madagascar? Smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave. 

Also, I believe that like attracts like. If you're generally happy and positive, you will attract generally happy and positive people into your life. Before you accuse me of being all Pollyanna-like, I also have a healthy respect for reality. Sometimes, reality does in fact, bite. Tough things come along and make you wish you were somewhere on a faraway tropical island, sipping slushy drinks on the beach.

This week, however, is not about the tough things. This week has been all about the good things; the highlight of which was seeing the word "author" next to my name. Author!!!! My novel made it to the quarterfinals, which is the most I was hoping for. Anything after this will be the icing on the cake.

Also, things are plugging away for us to move into our new home within the next several weeks. We've lived here in the beautiful mountain tops for five years, and we are excited to finally put down roots and have a place to call our own.

Beyond that, the weather warmed right up, and I got to take a drive in a convertible -- and there's hardly anything that makes me giddier than sunshine and a convertible (except of course, seeing the word author next to my name)!

BUT (and this is the biggest thing this week) as I shared on Facebook all of the good things that happened this week, I was utterly humbled by all of the friends who were genuinely happy for me; at how many people offered sweet sentiments of congratulations and well wishes -- even people who were possibly as ecstatic as I was. Texts, e-mails, hugs...I was the recipient of all of this positive energy this week.

And to all of them, I can only say, thank you.

What an affirmation of like attracting like.

I know, and I mean KNOW, that my friends would rush to my aid when the tough times hit. But how much sweeter it is to know that they are there in the good times, too.



P.S. I have dubbed 2013 "The Year of Yes." We're making good thing happen up in here!

Math or Cleaning?

Last night I was helping my son with his 4th grade math homework. While we were bellied up to the counter, elbow deep in fractions and decimals and number lines, I had asked my daughter to straighten up the living room and kitchen. From this little scene, I learned something: cleaning frustrates her as much as math frustrates me. I'm slightly embarrassed to admit this, but there was a certain problem in the math book that had me stumped. My daughter, of course, is something of a math wiz. She was sweeping the kitchen floor when I asked her to take a look at the problem and then explain it to her brother.

And then there was this moment.

This moment when I realized that she is her mother's daughter.

"Okay," she said. "Everybody stop. Everybody do a ten-foot radius check."

"A ten-foot radius check?" I asked.

"Everybody pick up and put away whatever is within a ten-foot radius of you. I don't care if it's yours or not."

*where have i heard that before?*

Mind you, I would not have used a high-fallutin' math term like "ten-foot radius," but I would have said something like, "I don't care who it belongs to or where it goes, just put it away!" So I smiled to myself. And I took my ball cap to my room. Then I came back and picked up a dish rag and wiped down the stove, because, you know, it was only three feet away from me. She sat down and calmly and successfully explained the math problem to her brother.

And then to me.

Happy Dance

I have some pretty exciting news today. Last month I entered my novel into a contest called the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award. It's a contest with several rounds, and yesterday I learned that my novel made it to the second round! I'd be lying if I told you I didn't do a little happy dance in my kitchen with my husband and kids. And then I did a little happy dance in the car. I may have even done a little happy dance at the gas station in Beaver, Utah. There weren't any witnesses, so you can't actually prove it. I have no idea how far it will actually go, but for now, I'm counting this as a small triumph!

I will probably be happy dancing for another day or so, and then I will be biting my nails until March 12, when the next advancement is announced. *That seems so far away!*

So if you want, do a little happy dance with me right there on your side of the screen. Right now. Go ahead.

It's fun, isn't it?

PANTS!

I have nothing much to say today, except for this:

Dear People Who Make Pants,

Please, for the love of Mike,* once and for all, would you just finally realize that we (meaning the world) need pants that cover our hineys and stay there when we walk, bend, sit, reach, eat, run, wipe the table, get out of the car, get into the car, stretch, talk on the phone, pedal our bicycles, pose for a picture, do the laundry, go to job interviews, lie on the couch, crouch on the floor, stoop on the steps, and generally live our lives?!?!?

Also, please remember that some all of us have curves and junk in the trunk and waistlines and hips bigger than our waists. Please take that into consideration the next time you cut some fabric and sew it back together.

Thanks,
Every Woman, Everywhere.


*I love my Uncle Mike.

Courage.

For Christmas this year, I decided to make gratitude journals for my husband and kids. Each book is entitled, "365 Things I am Grateful for in 2013." I thought it would be a fun exercise for us to do together, finding something to be grateful for each day this year -- and acknowledging it.

I thought I would share what I was grateful for yesterday.

Yesterday, I got called in to my old school to sub second grade. It's the first time I've subbed since before the shooting at Sandy Hook happened. Yes, that event hit especially close to home for me, as it did, I'm sure, for every other teacher in America. I'll admit, it was on my mind as I pulled into the parking lot. As I entered the classroom, I took note of little things, like how this classroom was exactly three doors down from the office; like how the door opens out to the hall and not in to the room, which would take an extra bit of a second in the event of a lock down. Also, how there was no way to lock the door from the inside. I also noticed that the wall between the hallway and classroom is made of cinder block, and how that was a good thing.

But then the bell rang and the kids came in, and we talked about what Santa brought them and the difference between summarizing and retelling. We added two-digit numbers and played "I'm Going to the Moon." We stayed in for recess because it was EIGHT degrees outside and we learned about electrical charges. All in all, it was a really good day at school.

And so, the thing I was grateful for yesterday was courage. I never thought of teaching school as a very courageous thing to do (that's usually reserved for the police and firefighters and customer service reps at Target). But yesterday, it took a little courage for me to walk into a K-4 elementary school, in a small town, with a close-knit community.

And I was grateful I had it.