A Post of Randomness (Not about love--for once)

1. Last weekend I was watching the SAG awards on TV. I was struck by how different every one of those actors looks. Yeah, I know. Life isn’t all about how people look, but in that profession, look actually matters. Okay, so my profession is totally different. But it made me think. Do I look like an author? Does anyone? For that matter, what do authors look like?

2. Also, I wonder why that statue guy they give out at the SAG’s doesn’t wear any clothes. Neither does the giant one they show in every segue. And why are they all male? Not that I’m complaining, but seriously, how about some clothing and a little equality? #Kthxbai. (Translation: Okay, thanks. Goodbye.)

3. Speaking of actors, my kids don’t know what a Smurf is. Or who is Rainbow Brite, or He-man or She-ra. I think they’ve actually heard of the Care Bears, but it’s been years. YEARS. They’re so spoiled with high-tech, fast-paced animations that they’d probably be completely bored by my old favorites. I sometimes wish their lives could be so innocent as those cartoons.

4. My family is newly addicted to The Game of Things. It’s like, the funnest board game I’ve played in years. Buy it, try it, love it. You’ll laugh your tail off, and your teens will want to stay home and play it instead of going out with their friends. It’s that fun. That is all.

5. My new favorite song is by Pink, and part of the title is Perfect. Great song. LOVE the clean version of it. But it begs to be asked. Why, why, why would she make an explicit version, that can never be played on the radio, or as a music video, or as a theme to any book, movie, or life and offer ONLY the bad version of it on the album? Also, why is the cleaner version not just titled Perfect? Why put the bleeped out bad word in the title? It doesn’t really make a statement, it just deters people from listening. Really. You can use the language if you want, but why cut down your fan base? Off my soapbox now.

Here's the clean version if you're curious:

P!nk - New Music - More Music Videos

That is all the randomness for today. Be sure to stop by on Monday to find out what’s on my mind next time.

Team Name: Who Stole the Socks?

I know I’ve mentioned numerous times that some of my kids are into sports. Mainly, my girls. Lately, it seems like my life revolves around soccer. Indoor soccer. Outdoor soccer. Competition soccer. Soccer practice. Soccer every day, and on and on and on.

But for all my complaining, I must admit, I’ve learned a lot from watching my girls play. Specifically with their indoor team.

It all started with my oldest daughter, Sneezy. She’s a sports-girl through and through. At some point, she and a bunch of her friends got together and decided to play indoor soccer together. Most of them had played together in city-league soccer or basketball or other sports before, but the idea wasn’t to go in and dominate. Rather, they went to play together and have fun. My younger daughter, Happy, even joined them.

Instead of ordering expensive uniforms—which many teams do—they tie-died T-shirts. Then they made up two important team rules.

1. No matching socks allowed, and neon is luckier than boring white.
2. Post-game cartwheels on the field are mandatory. Everyone must participate.

Then, they persuaded one of the dads to coach and went in to sign up as a team.

They lost the first few games. It took them a while to find their groove and learn to play together. But about half-way through their first season, something clicked. The girls became a team. And they started to win. Even against serious, uniformed teams. Coed teams with tall, competitive boys.

But they have never lost their spirit of fun to the competition. Even when they’re being slammed into a wall by someone twice their size, the parents are laughing because these girls are squealing, giggling, and cheering for each other. Those girls are there for the fun of the game, and it shows.

The two rules they set have never been broken. And after four indoor seasons, their losses can be counted on one hand.

I love to watch these girls play because it makes me look at my own life. Every time they play, I ask myself: will I let competition eat at me until I become crippled? Or will I play for love of the game and know that eventually I’ll find my groove?

Personally, I hate competition. But I love to play—er, um, I mean write. And I’ll happily wear mis-matched neon socks and a home-made tie-dye shirt while I do cartwheels in my back yard if that’s what it takes. Because I am good enough. We all are. And I’ll keep on writing /playing for as long as it takes until I figure out how to win the game.

Who’s with me?

Tristi's Contest

This week, my good friend Tristi Pinkston will be launching her new book. "Agent in Old Lace" is a romantic suspense that will keep you laughing all the way to the end. (And yes, I've read it and that's my own blurb. I loved this book!)

Now, hot off the press, she's giving away a prize package containing a still warm copy...that is, if you like to play games. Click here to find out the contest details.

"Agent in Old Lace" is set to hit store shelves in the next couple of weeks. Watch for it so you can be sure to get your copy.

Picture Tag

By Nichole Giles

I've been tagged. My friend Heather Justesen tagged me in a game where I have to post the sixth picture in my sixth folder. Here it is:

This is the Royal Caribbean Monarch of the Seas. We took our kids on a three day Baja cruise in 2005, and that happens to be my sixth folder. This would have been taken in July (I think the 7th or 8th) 2005.

Now, since I'm not sure how many people I'm supposed to tag, I'm going to tag Cindy Beck, Connie Hall, and Rachelle Christensen.