aw, thanks Kevo

 http://www.stacey.lawlis.youaremighty.com/

This made me smile/laugh.  I was equal parts inspired and giggly.

my brother, the champ

For those of you already familiar with the Annual Nog Bong Invitational, I’m sorry to report that it didn’t quite happen this third year.  Schedules being what they were, it got postponed too much for nog to still be on local grocers’ shelves.

Instead, this year was a Gallon Challenge.

That would be Kevo on the far left.  At least he has the brains to get chocolate milk.

There he is, folks.  He does the Rich Family proud.  (Luckily, I’m now a Lawlis).  For more contest details, visit Chelsie.  She’s got the scoop.

my bro, the luckiest (and unluckiest) mug ever

Some of you will remember that my poor brother, Kevo, has had nothing but bad luck with his car since his relocation over to the wonderful world called Seattle.

He had his car broken into, not once, but twice… having to replace a window each time and losing a stereo, a guitar, an mp3 player, and a gym bag containing his shoes (the thieves needed shoes as well, apparently).

My mom called and left a message on my phone this morning: “Hi Stace.  Hey, listen, if you see a teal Honda Accord, license plate XXX-XXX, go ahead and call the cops.  Your brother’s car was stolen last night.”

No flippin’ way.  Talk about insult to injury.

The story ends with minimal damage, at least hopefully.  Kevin’s car was found less than 5 blocks from where he’d parked it.  The cops described it as “still driveable,” which is a miracle given that we all figured his Honda (as in, Accord — most stolen car in America besides the Toyota Camry) would be reduced to mere parts by now.  It had been towed because it was ditched in a high traffic area, so he’ll have to deal with that.  But still… having been found at all… Christmas miracle.

I’m not sure if my brother is the luckiest (having his car back) or the unluckiest (having his car broken into twice and finally, stolen).  All I know is, the boy better invest in The Club or something.  And he better use it. 

In all seriousness, I was just sick to my stomach over the whole thing today and am grateful that my fearful-to-even-hope prayers for Kevo were answered.  God was gracious, as he always is.   

*** Completely unrelated note: in 101 days, I’m getting married.  That is all.

30 years ago today

Thirty years ago today, a lovely girl with flowing auburn hair and bright blue eyes said her I-do’s to a tall man with a pair of sweet chops and a big smile.  They spoke their words in a tiny wedding chapel with only a few family members to hear it (they actually bumped the wedding a little because my uncle got hungry and they had to stop for something to eat). 

Little fanfare, little to-do.  Lots of love.

They met where all great loves begin — the skating rink.  My dad, who had arrived with a girl and a group of friends (and swears to high heaven it wasn’t a real date), saw my mom skating and laughing, and in a move of superb brilliance and smoothness, asked my mom to do the Couples’ Skate with him.

The rest is (a pretty short) history.  Three months later, they wed.

Just a small side-note — my parents are freakin’ nuts.

But thirty years later, it’s kinda hard to argue with them.

In a world where so many don’t get to see what it’s like to see their parents stick together through the ups and downs of life, I know I have it so, so good.  I got to see what it looks like for two people to be companions through it all.  They’ve walked through some tough stuff together, and came through the other side still caring for each other, still wanting the best for one another, still laughing with each other. 

I used to think they were so boring.  They’re pretty chill, and for the most part their weekday evenings are spent kicking back in front of Wheel of Fortune or Jeopardy (or, Tuesdays, Americal Idol, which kills me).  Now the thought of them sitting there, every night, together — boring as it may seem — kinda makes me choke up a little.  I love that they are, above all, friends who love each other’s company.  (Most days, anyway).

I am so very proud to call them my own, and wish there were words big enough and good enough to convey it.

I love that my Dad leaves a cup of coffee on my Mom’s nightstand every morning, just the way she likes it.  I love that my Mom still totally flirts with my Dad, teasing him and shooting him that look with the sly smile that I’d imagine hasn’t changed much in 30 years.  I love that whatever they choose to do, they do it together.  Even their bike has to be a tandem.  

In one of their greatest gifts to us (and biggest lessons) — my brother and I grew up in a home filled with a lot of laughter.  Looking back, I know I was lucky.  It’s only in being older that I understand how much.

So, Mom, Dad, here’s to you.  You’re my heroes, you have to know that.  You’ve made love look good, and together, you’ve made my time so far on this earth pretty damn sweet, and for that, I thank you.

Here’s to at least 30 more years.  You’ll make that look good, too.

Love you.  Enjoy the day.  Looking forward to when you guys get to head out to Maui and celebrate in high style. 

Happy Birthday, Kevo!

Today my one and only little brother turns 23.  Weird.  We’re gettin’ old, brother man!

Kev, let me take this moment to say that you are absolutely one of my all-time favorite people in the entire world.  As I’ve said many times, I’m so lucky to have brother and amazing friend all rolled up in the same redheaded goofy man.  It’s nice to have someone to share a twisted sense of humor with… someone to run races with… someone to quote ridiculous movies with… someone to get stuck in Boise with for five hours… someone who has to wear just as much sunblock as me…

(Above all, I think my appreciation really boils down to the fact that you do a kick-ass Chewbacca impression, and that you like to yell JULIE!! at random intervals). 

I love you mucho.  Glad you’re such a big part of my world.  Have a great day and we’ll meet you on the other side of the water after work.  THAI FOOD!!!

Feel free to join me in my well wishes: www.krich03.blogspot.com

request

hi friends –

My mom is going in for surgery early in the morning for a hysterectomy, etc.  I’d really appreciate your prayers for her as she undergoes the surgery and for a quick recovery (estimated time: six weeks).

Mom was in the hospital three times last year and to be quite honest, it scared the crap out of me.  Although I’ve made a decision to really attempt not to worry, this has been a real challenge for me.  I’ve laid awake several nights, when the practicalities of “of course she’ll be fine” seem much more than a dawn away.  A week and a half ago I was sitting in my cubicle quickly wiping tears away because the words to Death Cab’s “What Sarah Said” hit me really hard.  It’s just been a long month and I will be so glad when the surgery’s done and she’s back home being grouchy at us because she’s restricted and bored.  I can’t wait, because at least then it’s all over.  I am more nervous right now than when I went in at 19 to have a tumor removed.  It’s so much more difficult to watch someone you love get wheeled by a stranger through those double doors, away and out of sight.  I would much rather go through those doors, and it’s not because I’m braver or any such nonsense: I would rather go because in many ways, it hurts less.

On a much much much smaller note, I’d appreciate your prayers for me as well.  It’s nothing major, I am just plain worn out.  Someone dropped some major balls at work and I had some real frustrating messes to deal with (translation: I had to get feisty to get things moving, which I hate); all’s fine now and we’re finally moving forward, but it sapped me of a lot of time and energy that really needed to be devoted elsewhere, such as to the actual daily responsibilities of my job.  I have major in-house meetings at work this week, I have clients flying in from San Jose early next week, and not enough time to prepare for it all.  I’ve been putting in long hours, only to come in the next morning and be fairly overwhelmed all over again.  And uh, yeah… we’re going to need you to come in Saturday…

It’ll all be over in a week or so and I’ll be able to rest — this job just has seasons like that, and most times it’s kind of a crazy sort of fun — but right now, there’s a double load on my plate and I need a lot more energy than I have.  I’m just beat. 

Coffee.  Loads and loads of coffee.  Starbucks, tomorrow you will be my best friend.  None of that hospital-crappy-excuse-for-a-mocha coffee.  The real stuff.

Mom goes in at 7 am, and the surgery is expected to last about 2 1/2 hours.  Dad and I will be at the hospital most of the day, except when I’ll leave to be with Grandma.  Again, I really ask for and appreciate your prayers.  Thanks, dear ones.

S

Nog Bong 2006

There are moments in life when you look at someone you dearly love, and suddenly realize, “Damn, you’re cool.”

Ladies and Gents, my brother won the Better than Second (AKA First Place) Trophy in the Webb’s second annual Nog Bong Event.  That’s him, in the middle.  What a guy.

This year’s fierce competition:

The scorecard:

And Kevin, our proud winner.  It turns out that, among other super-hero powers, my brother can stomach more egg nog at a time than anyone else on the planet.  Or at least in the immediate vicinity.

You can see the video here (quite funny actually, sync’d perfectly in time with music).

Way to uphold that little value I like to call Rich Family Pride, Kevo.  You are a source of inspiration to us all.  I thought that Pizza Hut Binge 1999 was impressive, but I stand corrected.

(Sorry you puked first, Chelsie.  At least you got First Puker Trophy).

I thank you God, for most this amazing day…

In my frenzied attempts to heat my igloo of a house last night, it seems I set the heat to “Sauna/Liquid Hot Magma,” which explains my being awake at 4 a.m.  No matter.  This is the first quiet moment I’ve had to write in a while, and I am happy to put it to good use.  I’ve missed this very much and hope to find more quiet moments soon.  Random side note: Did you hear Dr. Evil in your head when you read “magma”?  You should’ve, because I did.

***

The holiday was everything I could have wanted.  These past three mornings, I’ve stumbled directly out of bed to my car and driven the near-quarter-mile to my parents’ house to lounge at the kitchen table in my pajamas, drinking a cup of coffee with them (and sneaking a piece of chocolate pie) before starting the day.  How lucky am I?  It’s ridiculous.  I dearly love living close enough to do this.  I love having days off where I’m able to do this.  (It might have to become a weekend tradition, so keep the coffee coming, Ma).

(Speaking of tradition, I’ve watched a whole lotta movies this past three days: Walk the Line, Harry Potter & the Goblet of Fire, and Pride and Prejudice were all excellent, and enjoyed in excellent company.  Harry Potter and Happy Hour were fun, Kevo).

Topping things off, my dad and I put up Christmas lights on my house yesterday.  He did most of the hard work, but of course, in a typical stubborn effort to prove how tough I am, I insisted on putting the lights up myself at the highest point of the roof.  This toughness was proved wrong when the ladder began sliding down with me on it… sorry for the curse words, Dad.  I’m quite certain you were more amused than anything.

Unless you’re an absolute fool like me, you can’t possibly understand what boundless joy is derived from such a simple thing, having a little place where you can put up some lights.  Mom gets it.  While I was at the movies, she snuck into my place and turned the lights on so they’d be shining when I arrived home in the dark.  Inside, a note: Ho! Ho! Ho!  Love you!  Mom’s so good at beautifully simple thoughtful things.  I love her for many reasons, but one of them has to be the fact that because she knows me better than anyone, she’s capable of understanding the things that mean the most to me.  And then she does them.

To have such a family… to fight Kevin’s efforts at wiping suds all over my face while doing the dishes and not be scolded at all because most of the time these days, we’re not there anymore to cause a messy ruckus in the kitchen… to witness, with jaw on the ground, Mom throwing the football back and forth with Kevo in the living room where her new lamps were sitting… Dad unabashedly sitting down to dine on a third of a pumpkin pie for breakfast (still in the tin, just to add to the classy)… putting ice down Mom’s back while she was wetting her hair in the sink and hearing a shrill “Kevin James!  I’m going to get you for that!”  (Heh heh.  If that doesn’t give a revealing glimpse into our childhood, I don’t know what does). 

I was already thankful.  It’s been a good year, full of answered prayers and dreams come to fruition, and a contented peace with those prayers which have not yet been answered.  If you’d have told me this time last year that I’d now be working in a job I’m passionate about, living in the world’s cutest 525 square feet, that I’d be single and actually really enjoying it, I’m not sure I’d have believed you.  Which only adds to the gratitude.  Only God could have brought all these things about, and I’m well aware of it.

I was already thankful… and then I get these beautiful moments with my family.  Laughing out loud, mostly at each other, as usual.  Enjoying each others’ company in a way that I’m not sure we were always this good at.  Taking the time spent together less for granted; savoring the moments as they are given. 

The older I get, the more I see loss around me, the more I experience it personally, the more near-misses I am made aware of (the latest: Mom and I missed being in the Tacoma Mall during last weekend’s shooting rampage by a mere 45 minutes and were quite shaken by it), the more I am absolutely convinced that it is a complete waste not to live life moment by moment, appreciating all that has been given in that moment. 

I think it’s natural to long for what used to be, for what has passed, for what has been lost.  But a person who consistently takes notice of all that is being given, who has the presence of heart and mind to say thank you, not only to God, but to the people around him, knows a different kind of longing than the person who takes it all for granted, who thinks of life’s gifts as permanent, who is never really conscious of what he holds right in his hands until it vanishes.  A person who is present to their world and to the people around them has the peace of knowing that, were they to live it all over again, they’d probably do it much the same.  There’s no if only I would’ve… only an “I’m so glad I did…”

None of it is owed us.  All is a gift.  And what a gift it is.

***

I’ll be out for a bit.  Can we say business trip?  I’ve been given a new client at work (Orlando Union Rescue Mission) and will be flying to Orlando for meetings this Tuesday-Thursday!  I’ll get to meet the team I’ll be working with, and touring their facilities, etc., but the trip will also afford me time and occasion for one of my favorite activities… Airport People Watching.  Plus, I have a layover in Chicago, and if my memory serves me correctly, that’s the airport with the automatic toilet seat covers.  Amazing.  Stay tuned for tales from the trip.        

new digs

Mom and I drove around Kitsap County for five hours today looking for a new place for me to live.  FIVE HOURS.  (My roommate Amanda needs to move back to the other side of the water because she got a teaching job there).  For me, change always comes all at once — new job, adios boyfriend, moving… and it’s always a bit overwhelming.  I think I’ll feel a lot better when I figure out where I’m going to be living for the next little bit of my life, however.  I’ve begun packing all my stuff away… but that might be putting the cart before the horse somewhat.

I’ll preface this charming bit of mom-wit with the following.  There are these annoying signs that they insist on putting up on the sides of apartment complexes:  “If you lived here, you’d be home now.”

Around the fourth hour of searching today through various crappy apartments, we were driving through a neighborhood which at best could be described as, well, sketchy.  Mom said, “I don’t know that this looks like quite your neighborhood, Stace.”

Me: Well, I don’t know.  Meth labs make for great neighborhoods.

Mom: Might be how they’re able to afford rent.  Stacey, maybe YOU should start up a meth lab.

Mom: Just think.  If you sold meth, you would be home now…

My mom is the coolest.

Happy Birthday Mom! Happy Father’s Day, Dad!

Love you both… so much.  Hope the day’s a happy one.  And hey, it’s actually SUNNY out!