I love fonts. I haven’t figured out how to load them onto my computer for the sake of loading them on . . . but sometimes there’s a happy accident, like day before yesterday. I purchased a CD label making kit at Office Max. Came home, loaded the program onto the computer and like *magic* there were more fonts on my machine than before. Yeah! I like this one a lot, although it is a little difficult to read, I suppose. It’s called “NevisonCasD” – whatever that means.

I also like “Juice ITC”. What do you think? It’s a little easier to read, but still has style.

Japanette does not come with quotation marks . . . while I like the font, it bugs me that I do not have all the punctuation that I might need. Hmmm . . .

One of my favorites is “Harrington.” Isn’t it pretty? It’s scroll-y, and yet there’s something still childlike about it. Perhaps because even with its loopy-do’s, it’s still a straight up and down font?

 I think it is interesting how certain fonts and their names so perfectly go together. This is called “Arizona.” And it makes me think of Route 66 and postcards advertising rooms with a/c, television, and a swimming pool.

Well, I have things to do before turning in for the night. Have a good one and I’ll see you on the flip side!

My sister sent me this earlier today.  I’ve seen it before, but it never ceases to make me chuckle, because every bit of it is true!

You know you’re from Houston when…

You can leave your house, head out of town, and an hour later you still haven’t left the city limits. (During rush hour, you haven’t left your neighborhood.)

Spring is not the season, Katy is not the lady, and 1960 is not the year.

The “farm-to-market” roads have seven lanes.

If you want to be a snob about your grocery shopping, you can go to Randall’s Flagship, Rice Epicurean Market or a Kroger’s Signature.

You have to turn on the air conditioning in January, two days after a low of 29 degrees.

When you see your neighbor dancing around the front yard, you know he just stepped in a fire ant bed.

You know that the Astrodome will always be the Eighth Wonder of the World.

You come to work in short-sleeves and walk out at noon to find that a cold front has blown through, and the temperature has dropped 40 degrees In a matter of minutes.

You wander into a section of town where you can’t read the street signs but you don’t care because you can get great prices on fake designer merchandise there.

You go to an art festival on Westheimer and you’re almost run down by two cross-dressers on roller blades, holding hands.

You hear everything but English spoken when you go to the Galleria to window-shop.

You know that “Dad gummit” has nothing to do with your father’s failure to practice good dental hygiene.

You think “Y’all” is perfectly good usage if you’re referring to more than one person.

You’ve never seen I-45 in any condition other than under-construction — and you’ve lived here for 20-30 years.

If the humidity is below 90 percent, it’s a good hair day.

The only real Mexican food is Tex-Mex.

You know that while saving you money, “Mattress Mac” has amassed more than the U.S. Treasury has.

You see nothing unusual about an 80-something former sheriff’s deputy who wears a white toupee and blue sunglasses, mispronounces names, allows televising of his frequent plastic surgeries, seems unnaturally obsessed with slime in the ice machine, and screams, “MAR-VIN ZIND-ler, EYE-witness news” into a television camera every night.

You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from Houston.

The first night’s performance was FLAWLESS.  Everyone was on their game, perfect line delivery, set changes went smoothly — we received a STANDING OVATION from approximately 250 audience members.  It was simply amazing.

The second night . . .egads.  Dropped lines, and a major set change sounded like a herd of buffaloes behind the curtain.  However, the 150 or so people there seemed oblivious and while there was no standing ovation, applause was good and I think they enjoyed their evening in spite of the not quite as good as the night before performance.

I’ve been told by several theater types, those in the know, you know . . .that the second night is always worse than the first or any subsequent nights.  Basically, the cast and crew are holding their breaths on opening night because they are so nervous and want to get it right.  When all goes well, they relax the second night and then the mayhem begins.  The mayhem shakes them up so badly that they are on their toes again from that point forward. 

I sure do hope so, because Opening Night was so incredible, I really want the last two performances to go so beautifully.

Please, pray for us and for successful nights from here on out!

On a more spiritual note, this morning’s sermon was meant for me.  (I’m sure everyone feels that way to some degree, but I am so glad I got my lazy bum out of bed and made it to church . . . )

Pastor taught on “true worship” — not the 45 – 60 minutes of music before every sermon.  But the kind of worship that you live 24/7.  The “in spirit and in truth” kind of worship.  He asked if anyone knew what that phrase “in spirit and in truth” meant.  He went on to explain that “spirit” is with a small “s” — so the Bible is not talking about the Holy Spirit, but about the spirit in man.  And how we’re supposed to worship in “spirit,” meaning from the very depths of our hearts.  Not just a shallow standing in the pew singing a couple of songs while we’re thinking about what we’re going to have for lunch or the laundry we need to do . . . but the kind of worship that comes from the deepest place in our soul, where our entire focus is on God.

The “truth” part comes from worshipping our heavenly Father because of who He is . . .not because of our circumstances.  Even though we may be struggling in some areas — for example, finances, or health, or whatever . . . we worship in truth because we know that He is our Provider, our Healer, etc.  Our circumstances do not change who God is — it will always be true that He is all those things.  And though we may be going through a rough patch, we worship in truth knowing that He will take care of us, even if circumstances tempt us to think differently.

Anyway, it really hit home with me that everything I say and do can be a form of worship to my heavenly Father.  Living a life that will result in His saying, “Well done, good and faithful servant . . .”  That is true worship.

Dress rehearsal was absolutely beautiful. 

I have to say that I cried through the first half of the play.  Even the funny parts. 

Why, you ask?  I was so incredibly proud.  You have no idea. 

We started with NOTHING.  Zilch, nada. 

And it has come together in the most beautiful way.  The set is beautiful.  The costumes are beautiful, too.  The cast members have become the characters.  The crews work together smoothly, getting every set change, light and sound cue nailed perfectly.

I’m so incredibly proud!  Especially of my guy and my gal.  Sigh.

I will survive . . .

Some things going on around here:

• The production crunch before opening night this coming Friday, which involves




• Wrapping up the play program — it’s gorgeous, considering a very talented graphic artist donated her time and talent to design it for us.  However, there was a bit of a scare — so much information to include, it turned into a veritable memory hog.  Her computer kept freezing up, and although I discovered a few “boo-boo’s” on the last proofing, I’m still not sure that she was able to correct them before taking it to the printer.  Oh, well.  It makes for a funny scrapbook story, I suppose . . .


• Running like a mad woman around the Brazosport area putting up flyers to encourage ticket sales.  This is NOT fun in 98 degree heat with humidity so thick you feel like you need gills in order to breathe . . .


• Coming up with a design for the display case in the foyer of the Old School.  The Heritage Foundation had a lovely assortment of t-shirts, baseball caps, etc.  Not quite in keeping with our genteel Civil War era production . . . so I scrounged up some black velvet and lace from my stash of scraps, one of the silver trays we received as a wedding gift, some silver candlesticks and candles, a pretty beaded purse and a string of pearls, and while I have my daughter’s hardback copy of “Little Women” as a backup, there’s a very good chance we will be loaned an 1880’s edition of “Little Women” for our display.  Now to arrange it all beautifully . . .


• Helping to clean and decorate the room where punch and muffins will be served by the Heritage Foundation on Opening Night.    There is a rather banged up display case in the corner of that room that we’ve covered with purple fabric and white lace swags — I am going to print out the “fun” photos that have been taken during our rehearsals to scatter “artistically” across the fabric.  On a beautiful oak table in the foyer, I am going to display black and white 8×10 portraits of the cast members.


• I’ll be working the box office all four nights, with the provision that the box office closes five minutes before curtain so that I can actually go and watch the play, too . . .


• and MOST importantly, praying that Jami gets over this sniffly sore throat thing she came home with last night. . . . she has been so excited to be a part of the production — she can not, CAN NOT be sick Opening Night.


• Trying to keep my business together — I have clients that I need to take care of, but when, when, WHEN??????


• Reconciling my checkbooks (personal and business) . . . yuck.


• Laundry (it never ends . . . how can three people go through so many clothes in such a short amount of time????)


• Figuring out what to wear to the performances . . . NOTHING in my closet fits . . .

This really isn’t meant to be a “gripe” session . . . I’m actually pretty happy right now.  Just lots to do.

And remember, if you live in the Brazoria area, or even the Houston area, please come on down and see the show . . .

Tuesday evening, several members of the cast performed scenes from the play for the residents of an assisted living facility in Sweeny, Texas.  It’s amazing the difference performing in front of an audience can make for actors.  The cast came alive, their characters were vibrant and so incredibly believable.  During one particular scene, I actually had tears in my eyes, it was so moving.

I encourage anyone who stops by my little Xanga to come see this show, if you are within driving distance.  It’s going to be great!

We were so blessed to have a graphic artist volunteer to design our advertising posters and the play program.  My scan doesn’t do it justice!  There have been countless folks donating their time and talent to this endeavor and with that much heart invested, it can’t help but be good!

Come on down and see the show — if you come to an 8 pm performance, stop in Lake Jackson beforehand for an early dinner at one of the fine restaurants there (The Wursthaus, The Local, Cafe Annice, Johnny Carino’s, Mother Teresa’s, etc.)  You can do the same for the 2 pm matinee on the 26th, either lunch or dinner, whatever your preference.  I’ve eaten at most of these restaurants (except Cafe Annice and Mother Teresa’s) and they are fabulous.  Cafe Annice and Mother Teresa’s have great reputations for delicious food in our area.  It will make for a lovely evening or afternoon.

I hope to see you there!

All I need is some tasty waves . . . and I’m fine.

– Jeff Spicoli (paraphrased)

This is my guy with his new JLS 10ft. longboard.  He used to surf back in the day and he’s getting back into it.  If this is the worst mid-life “crisis” we go through, I’ve got it made in the shade!  Now he’s scoping out little “baby” boards for our girl.   

Rainy, rainy, rainy day.  I have to type up the cast bios for the play program so they can each review theirs tonight and make any changes . . . theatrical types have such delicate egos!  I couldn’t help but chuckling last night when they were trying to fill out index cards answering the following questions:

How would you like your name listed on the program?  (“I used to have a stage name, but I can’t remember what it was . . .”)

Where do you live? (“If I put where I live, they’ll think I’m a hick.” — Well, considering at least half of the people attending live there, too . . . I don’t think that’s anything you have to worry about.)

What do you do?  (“I’m a realtor” and “I’m a lawn technician [this kid worked for a lawn service until he goes back to college . . .]”)

Previous stage experience:  (From one extreme to another — “Do you want me to list it ALL?” and “I’ve done NOTHING!”)

Phone number:  Some of the girls (younger ones) have obviously been trained well by their parents.  Why do you need my phone number? (In case I have questions about what you wrote . . . )  Do you need my street address?  (No, just city . . . so I can print “Sally Jane of Hoboken is making her stage debut . . . “)  Sad we live in a world where we do have to think so suspciously.

Boy, I’m glad I’m just a “behind the scenes” girl!

It’s A Miracle!!!!!

I actually managed to get my quarterly sales tax return done by . . .

7:30 p.m.

this evening.  You have no idea how incredible this is.