I am a penny pincher.  I am a saver. I’m using the same furniture in my bedroom that I purchased in 1998.  I wear clothes from high school because, really, who cares if it says 1996?  [All of Nashville, most likely. Trendy-ville that it is.]  In fact, I would probably carry the same purse everyday until it fell apart if not for a wee bit of ingrained girly-ness that says a white purse isn’t IDEAL for December.  I would rather write my return address than waste a label.  I collect “free trials” of NetFlix and use them one after the other.  I eat the butt-ends of the bread. I eat entire pitchers of soup just to ensure none goes to waste.

I would have been a fine specimen to behold during The Great Depression.  My Victory garden would have been spectacular.

So it has come as a great surprise to see how wasteful I have been here in Nashville.

With my time.

I chalk it up to a lot of factors- the freedom from a 7-3 job [yes, those are teaching hours], the complete lack of responsibility, being SEVERELY exhausted when I arrived in Nashville from a nonstop summer, thus causing a much needed hibernation season.  And a big factor lately has been, disappointely enough, homesickness.

It was just easier on Tuesday to lay in my bed with a word document open, not type one word, but spend my time thinking about Marietta.  Figuring out why I say I’m “going home” when I leave Marietta and “going home” when I leave Nashville.  Sheesh.

Even with this new writing job that does have deadlines, I find myself being a procrastinator, which I hate.  I WANT this job.  I WANT to do this job well and make a living at it.  Yet it seems that I am my own worst enemy and my own strongest discourager.

I talked with my friend Sissy yesterday- she is a singer/songwriter here in town, and I was hoping she could shed some light on my situation.  Being that this is my first run at “self-employment”, I thought a seasoned veteran could talk some sense in to me.

“QUIT BEING AN IDIOT!  THIS IS YOUR DREAM JOB!”, I wanted her to yell.  “You selfish being”, I hoped she would say, “get off your keester and get to work.  You should probably go get a real job so you know how good you had it and how much time you have already wasted.”

But she didn’t say any of that.  She just told me that yes, this is the hardest part.  And there is a learning curve. [Me no likey learning curves.] But that you have to glorify God in your art AND your time.

She said that every type of artist deals with this at some point.  That it isn’t easy being your own motivation.  [Sure, standing in line in a soup kitchen will give you motivation, but I'm not quite at that point yet. YET.]

I though that doing exactly what I’ve always wanted to do would be motivation enough.  Sadly, it’s not.  YET.

But after Thanksgiving, I have a plan.  Sissy gave me some good thoughts and I’ve turned them in to good plans and things are going to change.

Thank you, Fall 08, for allowing me to relax and rest and chill and be.  Thank you for not judging me when I stayed in bed for many-an-hour, and thank you for being patient with me in the Great Move of 08.

But we’re going to have to part ways.  The Winter brings something new.  Something we common folk like to call DISCIPLINE.

Because this life is a dream come true and I refuse to waste another season.

I know some other bloggers have done this before, but I don’t think I have.  Maybe I have.  I don’t totally remember.  We just passed 500 posts here people, and 2 years worth of my brain puke, so it’s hard to recall.

Anyways….. this weekend, Sophie gave me some tips on finding blog stuff…. blah blah blah…. you totally don’t care about the tech talk that would come out of my mouth [fingers?] explaining what I’m talking about.

Suffice it to say I found a new place that lists all the phrases that brought you, my bloggites, to this here blog from Google in the month of November.

And in order to really meet the needs of my people, I will address those of you who arrived here via bizarro googling:

“annie - maybe free download“- I mean, maybe I’m a free download?  I’m not sure.  But give it a shot.

“hi my name is“- If you have to google what your name is, then you might need to see a doctor.  Or call someone more educated (like your mom), because Google, though VERY smart, does not know your name. And neither do I, sadly.

“scabs in nashville“- Sick.  I hope not.

“cankle“- Well.  No one is surprised about that.

“examples of blogs written by friends“- That’s nice.  I have always considered you a friend, too.

“decorating brownies like footballs“- The trick is in the muffin tin. Here’s how you do it.

“pay basic cable and get expanded basic“- Let me warn you, with that new no antenna biz-nass in February, Obama will bust you for stealing cable in 09.  You just wait for it.

“1999 annie part 1“- That would be the spring of my freshman year of college.

“annie at costco“- Probably.

“fat blogs“- Ahem. My blog is the same size as everyone else’s. How rude.

“the world as it should be“- Aww. You googled that and ended up here?  Well, isn’t that the sweetest thing.  And yes, this is the place where the world is as it should be.

“who wrote the book trust me“-I want to make up an answer, but then you won’t trust me anymore.

“www.anmiebloggs.com“- Wow. You really need to slow down when you type- that is quite a lot of errors.

“tupperware nashville tennessee“- Where? Cause you know I want some real bad.

“what can’t i do on snowy day“- Go swimming.

“stealing coupons“- That’s not nice.

“carmelbooty“- …… I don’t even know what to say.

If you haven’t yet, all you crazy bloggers should join the Mocha Club campaign that is starting soon- a teaser- it’s called I Need Africa.  If you still want play along, just let me know.

I have some internet things to share.

[Apparently I feel very "to the point" right now.  Hmm.  Rare.]

First of all, have you heard of THIS WEBSITE?  Where you swap paperback books?  Now I haven’t tried it myself but that was only because I heard of it this weekend and I couldn’t see my bookshelves to pick which ones to switch.  Cause I have a little book addiction. Don’t judge me.

And the sick truth is 1. I have read all of these and 2. Most of the shelves are 2 books deep.  Look closely.

I guess it’s a good addiction, right?  Better than crack, or so they say.

I have three songs repeating in my life right now-

1. In Better Hands by Natalie Grant
2. Up To The Mountain by Patty Griffin (performed first for my ears by Reba and Kelly)
3. Could’ve Sworn It Was You by Annie Parsons

I’m also finding that I frequent money savings websites and these two have been real pleasures as of late-

1. One Goodie- One fun home item a day (which you know I am sucker for all things homegoods related) and one baby item a day (yeah, not really “for my house” right now, but cute.)
2. Bargain Briana- This girl don’t mess around.  She will save you some doll hairs for realz.

I also love this Throw Out 50 Things Challenge- cause honestly folks, how many of us literally could give away/sell/toss AT LEAST 50 sundry items in our lives?  I’m doin’ it, yo. And documenting it on my blog. Because that is sadly how my mind works 87% of the time now.

And some housekeeping clicks-

If you want to follow me on TWITTER, I’d love it, but you have to have an account.  I tried to have mine unlocked so anyone could see it and follow, but you would be in shock and awe if you saw the amount of trash that requested to follow me.  Mainly spammers.  And Florida Gators.

[ba-dum-ching!  I'll be here all night folks. Tip your waitresses.  Try the lasagna.]

Also, if you are still checking all the blogs you love everyday, crossing your fingers for a new post only to realize that Jimmy-Never-Post has let you down again?  Go to GOOGLE READER, subscribe to all the blogs you read (you know, like this one here) and then you never have to waste a click on Jimmy-Never-Post again. Google Reader will just show you the ones that update.  I find it helpful and enjoyable, two of my favorite things.

And finally, a cankle update:

It’s feeling much better.  I have most of the rotation back and can almost stand on it without pain.  I still have a bit of a limp, but that’s cause I’m cool like dat.  I’m regaining strength, but it will be a while before my next 5K. Sorry, Annie Parsons.

And by the way, a “cankle” is a fat ankle- like your calf goes straight to your foot.  I thought that was a common term.  Apparently it is not.  My apologies.

The big closer- a new photo.

If I could think of a stronger exclamation than BOOYAH, I would use it to describe my weekend.

But obviously.  There is no stronger language to be used.

Let me give you the highlights, in bullet points and randomly inserted photographs.

-Friday I drove to Birmingham, just a quick jaunt.  So please don’t be sad if you are my family know me and live there and I didn’t see you.  I promise I wasn’t even there for 12 hours hardly.

-Late lunch with Sophie and Alex.  He told me he loved me, called me his girlfriend, and asked, “Mama, can I unclick [unbuckle] to give Miss Annie sugar?” And that’s when I got engaged to a 5 year old.

-Dinner with Robyn’s family, and about 30 minutes of getting a SEVERE whooping from her 7 year old daughter on the Wii.  I’ve really got to get better at virtual ping-pong.

-THEN…. the reason for the trip….. REBA MCENTIRE/KELLY CLARKSTON CONCERT.  Sweet Robyn invited me to go with her as a b-day celebration and I HAPPILY attended. 8th row center seats?  Yes ma’am.  She did a much finer job recapping this than I ever will, so go there and read her recap if you so desire.

[I will take this opportunity to say the most exciting moment of my life of the night was when BARBARA JEAN from the Reba TV show came out and did stand up. Listen. I was thrilled. To put it mildly. Cause I don't know if you have heard, but I. LOVE. THE. REBA. SHOW.  Like the "4 episodes a day" kind of love.]

-Saturday morning I had brunch with some Bham bloggers (Gayle, Robyn, Sophie, and LoraLynn).  Again, Gayle has the cute pics and summarized quite nicely, so go there if you are just chompin’ at the bit to read about the gritty details of our two hour meal.  By saying “gritty”, I am being punny, because I actually ate shrimp and grits.

[And can you believe I honestly have NO training in humor writing?  That stuff, like the double meaning when I use the word "gritty", just comes out naturally. I know. What a gift.]

-Then I drove to the ATL, where I saw this in the sky and took a moment to say, “God, I believe Your promises for me.”  Cause sometimes, y’all, we just need to say that stuff outloud.  Can I get an amen from the choir?

-On Sunday, myself and a bunch of my nearest and dearest got to throw a shower for my bfry Molly. You may have heard of her…. she has a bit of a sweet tooth.  Ahem.

-Then my favorite 2 year old on the entire planet built me a bird house.  Ok, he didn’t really build it per say, but he was seriously hammering the nails and unscrewing the screws.  Look at that form!  That’s a man in a toddler body, I tell ya.

-Then I saw a wedding gown of a future bride, ate homemade marshmallows, and watched football with my family, had Zaxby’s zalads with Haley and Molly today, then got on the road.

Now I’m back in Nashville. And went to my accountability group, which is a GIFT in my life.  It would be weird to tell you what we talk about, but suffice it to say that they already know my junkiest junk and they hug me anyways.

What a weekend.

What a life.

Ok, y’all. This is gonna be so fun.

I’ve told you this before, but I volunteer with an amazing non-profit called MOCHA CLUB.

Mocha Club is launching a new campaign next week.  I can’t put a lot of details out there yet, BUT!  The coolest part is- Barrett, the director of MC, wants BLOGGERS to be the way to get this campaign out there.

So yeah.  That means YOU. [If you have a blog, that is.]

And you get to post about something that is way big and something that is literally changing the face of Africa. And maybe you get a little summin’-summin’ too.

How RAD is that?!?!

Does it matter how many readers you have?  NOPE. Does it cost you anything? NOPE.

All you have to have is a blog and heart for Africa.

That’s it.

Want more details?  Interested in taking part?

Leave a comment below and I’ll get your info to the Mocha Club director Barrett.  Or, you can just email him yourself at barrett [at] mochaclub [dot] org.  Whichever makes you happy.

But jump on in.  Why not?

You Cankled-Out yet?  Last one.  I promise.

Last Wednesday afternoon, after I got home from the ER, I tried to find an orthopedic doctor in town.  I called my church to see if the secretary knew of any doctors in our congregation.  No luck.  So I put it on facebook and twitter- “somebody help me find a doctor!” [Oh modern technology, I heart you.]

Robyn sent me an address and phone number for Vanderbilt’s sports medicine department, I called it and made an appointment.  I’ve already told you how much I Luh-huved! Dr. Awesome and how she is the greatest orthopedic doctor I’ve ever wanted to be bfries with in my whole life.

BUT.

The most amazing thing happened Sunday morning at church.  Because not only is Dr. Awesome my neighbor and fellow Frothy Monkey patron, she and her family GO TO MY CHURCH.

Let me tell you why that amazed me and almost made me cry at church.  Since Cankle 08 started, heck- since I moved to Nashville, the enemy has wanted me to feel alone and unloved and uncared for.  [P.S- he wants to do that to you, too.] But God, in His amazing ways, has instead overwhelmed me with care.  [P.S- He is always doing that for you, too.] Though there is nothing that replaces a Mama [my Mama, particularly], my friends have come pretty darn close with this Cankle thing- repeatedly offering to take me grocery shopping, bringing me popsicles, walking slow as Christmas with me so I don’t get left behind, calling to check in, you name it.  It’s been sweet.  Really sweet for my soul.

And then the icing on this cake is that Dr. Awesome goes to my church.  Because what are the chances that in a city FULL OF GREAT CHURCHES, we go to the same one?  Or in a building FULL OF PEOPLE (like 1,000), I would walk in right behind her?

It was a moment that God took to remind me that He doesn’t overlook details. And that what the enemy has planned to be my defeat, well, the Lord makes those His greatest victories.

Not just for me.  But for you, too.  Cankle or not.

Apparently I have an addiction.  To vegetable soups.

And it never fails that whenever I make soup, I say, “Oh man where is my camera because my bloggites are going to love this recipe.”

That’s sick, people.  Sick.

This recipe is from my friend and fellow blogger Kristin.  Big ups, Kristin.  This is some seriously delicious soup.

________________

TUSCAN VEGETABLE SOUP

1 (15-ounce) can low-sodium cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 large onion, diced (about 1 cup)
2 carrots, diced (about 1/2 cup)
2 stalks celery, diced (about 1/2 cup)
1 small zucchini, diced (about 1 1/2 cups)
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme leaves (or 1 teaspoon dried)
2 teaspoons chopped fresh sage leaves (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
32 ounces low-sodium chicken broth or vegetable broth
1 (14.5-ounce) can no salt added diced tomatoes
2 cups chopped baby spinach leaves
1/3 cup freshly grated Parmesan, optional

____
In a small bowl mash half of the beans with a masher or the back of a spoon, and set aside. Heat the oil in a large soup pot over medium-high heat. Add the onion, carrots, celery, zucchini, garlic, thyme, sage, 1/2 teaspoon of salt and 1/4 teaspoon of pepper, and cook stirring occasionally until the vegetables are tender, about 5 minutes. Add the broth and tomatoes with the juice and bring to a boil. Add the mashed and whole beans and the spinach leaves and cook until the spinach is wilted, about 3 minutes more. Serve topped with Parmesan, if desired.

_______________

Ok, let me tell you some things I did differently.  I forgot to buy the cannellini beans [doh!], but I had two small cans of lima beans.  So I smashed one can of beans and used the other whole.  Also, I DO NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT prefer fresh spinach, so I used a box of frozen spinach.  It ruled.

It probably makes enough for four big-ish servings. [that's a technical term, obviously.]

And welcome to No Dairy November, where the grilled cheese sandwich is made with soy cheese.

Delicious?  Yep.  Surprised?  Me too. Oh I am really trendy now, eating soy cheese and all.  If only my wardrobe was as trendy as my fridge.

I was talking to a pregnant friend of mine on the phone yesterday.  Let’s call her.. uh… Shmolly.

And as we talked, Shmolly said, “Hang on, let me place this order.”

I said, “Ok.” because it is not uncommon for one of us to need to put the other on hold in order to take care of some sort of life-changing biz-nass, such as a drive-thru lane or um… to use the restroom.

So as I listen, this is what Shmolly says, “Yeah, can I get eighteen apple pies? [pause] No, not eight.  Eighteen.  Like 1-8.”

Dang. If pregnant people get to eat eighteen apple pies, maybe I am more ready to be a mom than I thought.

Some friendships are built on honesty, trust, or common interests.  Not us.

Shmolly and I?  Our friendship is built on a mutual love of all things pastry.

It was a fun weekend- full of out of town friends and Mexican food and crutches and hobbling. [Is "hobbling" a word?  As in, "to hobble"?  I think so, but not certain.  If it is, consider me wise.  If it isn't, consider me witty.]

I have never had an injury like this- that really retards the rest of my life.  And I don’t use that word disrespectfully, I use it genuinely.  Having a bum leg really hinders pretty much all things attempted.

Sunday morning at church, Randy spoke on suffering.  And what it looks like and how to respond.  He actually gave the example of someone slamming their finger in a car door and THE DOOR LOCKING.  [I'm sorry, but I think I just heard a rousing round of dry heaving.  And one was mine.]  In that moment, I was grateful for this swelled up cankle.  Cause it could be a lot worse.

One thing that people keep asking me is, “What do you think God is trying to teach you in this?”

And I don’t know if I know that answer- maybe that being the tight-rope walker in the circus really isn’t my calling?  [blast.] Maybe I was supposed to be “there” and not “there”, a hundred times over?  Maybe I needed to face some new truths about my life and how I’m loved here?  Maybe I just needed to slow down.

That’s kind of a theme in my life.  SLOW DOWN.  DRAW BOUNDARIES.  DON’T FILL UP YOUR LIFE. Cause I tend to believe that if I’m awake, I should be doing or going.  Rarely is resting an option.  [But in my defense, I just love being with people- so I figure if someone is available to hang out, let's hang out. But enough with the excuses.]

And yesterday morning, Randy said that in the midst of our suffering, we need to be willing to listen.  Hurt people always want to talk-to have attention drawn to them. [I have no idea what he meant by that. Ahem.] But the real goal is to be a listener. Because God is speaking in your suffering.

So I’m choosing to listen. The Cankle is supposed to tell me something. Though this is by no means a serious suffering, comparatively, it’s still a good time to practice hearing God.

And who better to tell me what God is trying to say in this than God Himself.

Romans 5: 3-5

“…We also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us”

Photo update [mainly for Mama, but the rest of you can look too]:

Well, I just got home from the doctor.

And my poor cankle has three torn ligaments- a Stage 3 sprain-

“A grade 3 injury is complete ligament rupture with marked swelling, hemorrhage, and tenderness. There is loss of function and marked abnormal joint motion and instability. Most commonly, this represents a complete disruption of both the anterior talofibular ligament and the calcaneofibular ligament laterally.”

Yeah, I don’t know what all that means either.  I just know it’s all tore up in there.

My doctor is AWESOME- she and I are totally going to be bfries when this is all over.  We live in the same neighborhood. She also frequents the Frothy Monkey, when she’s not saving lives of course, one cankle at a time.

And during the xrays, I laughed outloud 5-6 times thinking, “that’s what she said” [an homage to The Office, in case you don't know why that's funny].  Including, but not limited to, many directions from the xray tech involving my pants.

I feel SO MUCH BETTER having a diagnosis and a plan.  I go to physical therapy next week and follow up with Dr. Awesome next Friday (before I head to Bham to see REBA!).  And, just like my cousin Katie said in the comments, I have to draw the ABCs with my foot three times a day.

Good thing I’m a writer.  I guess you could say I’m kinda a professional when it comes to letters.

Hopefully I will have something else to blog about now.  Or maybe not.  If the swelling or bruising increase, you’ll be the first to know.  Because as I told Sophie yesterday, I take my job as a photo-journalist rather seriously.