From the big Rockies to the Little Rock

Not so gold strike

2011-10-06T12:04:00.000-07:00

The Gold Strike Casino in Tunica, Miss., glitters from the outside and impresses on the inside. The flashing lights and melodic chimes are hypnotizing. There are no clocks on the wall allowing time to disappear into the brightly colored slot machine wheels. It’s a curious place, providing better opportunities to people watch than a crowded airport.

If you know me (well), you know that I’m definitely not a gambler in any shape or form. I work hard for my money and don’t particularly enjoy watching it disappear in a few seconds. My FIL is the experienced one and usually flirts with lady luck at the craps table for hours. He knows what he’s doing…I don’t. I prefer playing video Blackjack. There isn’t any pressure, you can take your time and no one is telling you what to do. But for the life of me, I couldn’t find one video Blackjack machine in the whole casino. I tried playing poker, but burned out quickly because I didn’t really grasp the concept.

Parish was sitting next to me and I think I made him a little crazy asking over and over, “Should I keep this one,” “is this a flush,” and “Does this pair count?” Finally he told me to cash out and move on. We walked around the casino floor and eventually found his mom playing at a slot machine. I started whining and spinning around in my chair. Parish shoved a $20 in the machine and ordered me to “have fun.” Playing with someone else’s money is great motivation, so I started pushing buttons and after about five minutes, relaxed. I had about $10 left and then it happened – I hit the big one. The numbers started racing by and I tapped Parish on the shoulder so he could witness the excitement. I tripled my (Parish’s) money and let out a squeal. OK, so maybe $67 isn’t “the big one” but it’s the most I’ve ever won. Ha! Of course you know what I did next, I quickly punched the ‘cash out’ button and left the casino.

The next morning we went back to the restaurant for breakfast. I know it sounds like all we did was eat, but we also walked around a lot and took the stairs to our room every time. Our morning meal was delish and less of a workout since I didn’t have to wrestle a lobster. Parish and I shared a waffle and sipped on mimosas.

After breakfast, I went back to the room to pack up and Parish stayed behind. An hour later, I was ready and sitting with the luggage, knowing that my husband would walk through the door any minute and compliment me for being prepared. That never happened. I had to schlep my luggage down to the hotel lobby and call him on his cell phone. Turned out, he tried his hand at roulette and it sucked him in. He won back breakfast and some spending money for the rest of the weekend. He suggested I try it and I did. I don’t think I’ve ever lost $20 so fast in my life. The experience confirmed my belief – I’m not a gambler, I’m a spectator who likes to spend my money slowly, on tangible things.

Wedding bells for my Elle

2011-07-18T13:47:00.000-07:00

My best friend is getting married. I know it sounds like a title to a new movie, but it’s not, this is happening in the real world. We met our freshman year in college and over the past six years, she has become the sister I never had. In fact, we are so alike; sometimes I wonder if we were separated at birth.

Recently, we were gabbing on the phone about her upcoming nuptials. Although the wedding is over a year away, it’s still exciting to talk about some of the things she is planning and possible venues they are planning to visit. I wish I could be there to help her out. It’s so hard being so far away – Lacey was an integral part of my wedding planning and I hate being states away as she plans her big day.

She went with me when I tried on wedding dresses and when she cried - I bought the dress. Her mom designed our centerpieces and helped me pick out invitations. Naturally, Lacey was my maid of honor and her speech at my wedding made me laugh and sob at the same time. But even though I live 1,000 miles away, I’m going to try my hardest to be involved with her wedding. When it comes time for her to choose a wedding dress, we talked about using Skype. I have a camera on my iPad and she has one on her phone – it just might work. Nothing compares to being there in person, but I want to see her face when she finds “the one.”

I thought it also might be a good idea for me to make a replica of my body and mail it to Colorado for Lacey to use during bridesmaid dress shopping. I need to find a way to dip myself in wax or have a mannequin artist make a ‘Rebeccaquin.’ A life-size cardboard cut out would work, but only for the height, not the other bits.

Parish and I are thinking about going home for Christmas, and when I told Lacey the plans she said we could go dress shopping when I got there. This idea made me so happy! My trips home are usually wild, there are people to see, lots of meals to enjoy and life to catch up on with family there. Adding dress shopping into the mix is pure craziness, but I will do it for my best friend.

I’m not sure if I’m making a toast during the September affair, but I’ve already started mentally thinking about what I’m going to say. I’ve also started rattling my brain about the perfect gift. Lacey is marrying a man who loves his dog, going camping and hiking for hours into the wilderness. Although she does enjoy camping, Lacey is a girly girl who wears pink, drives a little sports car and sips champagne. I’m relieved I still have 13 months left to think about a gift.

I met her fiancé in college, although they weren’t dating at the time. So, he has my stamp of approval. He’s a great guy, hard working and he loves Lacey, which is the most important part. OK, my eyes are getting a little misty…I better wrap this up; I have a wedding to help plan.

Happy birthday ladies!

2011-06-29T12:16:00.000-07:00

The excitement of June continued to unravel in the latter part of the month. We got through the birthday cake, iPad Anonymous meetings, our anniversary dinners/lunches and happy hours. Then Father’s Day a couple weekend ago, which was a nice, all day affair in Center Ridge. The only thing left to celebrate this month is my mom and aunt’s birthday in Colorado.

I’ve been working on their gifts for a couple of weeks and finally put the last present in their box of goodies. As much as I would love to be there in person, I will have to rely on the trusty postman to deliver my birthday wishes. While shopping at Park Plaza recently, I picked up some great gifts. If anyone else got the box, they might be confused, but I know my mom and aunt so well. And I know they will just love what I send (they better!) For instance, I’m sending them both bottles of freshly picked watermelon hand soap from Bath & Body Works.

Why send someone soap for their birthdays? Well, there’s a story behind it (of course). My father-in-law grows the best tasting watermelons I’ve ever had. Every summer, my family asks me to mail them a watermelon. Can you mail a watermelon? I have an aunt who works for FedEx and she says you can, so I might try it one year. But in the meantime, I’m sending watermelon soap. It’s much lighter, fits in a reasonable size box and won’t cause a gigantic mess if it breaks.

I’m also sending them some body butter from B&BW. One of lotions is named P.S. I love you. How fitting is that? In also including body sprays from Victoria Secret – they recently had their semi-annual sale and it’s an event we always went to.

Since beauty care was covered, I ran by the Argenta Market and picked up some J & M raspberry cookies. Janis and Melanie is the local company that sells the cute boxes of cheese straws. I like supporting local companies and when my parents visited one year, I had a box of J&M cookies in my pantry that they enjoyed.

Hopefully now all of the items in the birthday box make sense. I know they will be surprised too. My mom sends me a box about every other month and sometimes every month. She is always so thoughtful and so is my aunt. My mom comes from a family of nine – six sisters and a pair of very hard working parents. Most of my aunts are scattered all over the country, but I’m closest to the one in Colorado. I also consider her my second mom and will forever by the “cool aunt.” She’s the one who took me and my cousins to the zoo, the park, ice cream shops, cemeteries, toy stores and anywhere else it was legal to go. The items in the birthday box pale in comparison to the amount of love and admiration I have for these two fabulous ladies. Happy birthday ladies and thanks for living lives worth admiring.

A mother of a tale

2011-05-26T13:48:00.000-07:00

Officially speaking, I’m not a mother, but I have been known to play one during family affairs. My sister in law (SIL) gave birth to the most precious little boy about a year and a half ago. I call him ‘Baby J’ and I love him to pieces. I also have a special bond with him because I was one of the first people to see him when he was born. He arrived about five months too early; seeing that little miracle is one sight I will never forget. Baby J is growing and despite his surprise entrance into this world, is doing really well. He is one active toddler and is in the phase where he wants to put everything in his mouth. Needless to say, for this year's Mother’s Day, everyone was busy and someone had to keep an extra eye on the little guy. I wanted to give my SIL a break from being a mom for a few hours, so I tried my best to watch Baby J while she relaxed. In between making sure the baby didn’t get too close to the grill and fryer, I made a salad and fixed a fruit pizza. This taste of motherhood was a mouth full!

My in-laws live out in the country, so there is more than enough space for everyone to enjoy and relax. The baby loves to be outside – so that is where we spent most of our time. Unfortunately, you have to watch out for things you wouldn’t in the city: snakes, large bugs, loose dogs, snakes and dead carcasses. Since I appointed myself as the official baby caretaker, I had to observe all of the surroundings to ensure my nephew was kept safe and the opposite of snake bait. We had a lot of fun exploring the area and I enjoyed getting some sun.

The highlight of the day was when I backed into a birdbath, knocked it down and then fell into the water. I was soaked from the waist down and turned red from the neck up. Only one other person saw this smooth move and quickly came over to fix the bath. Thankfully, the 50-pound, solid rock basin fell in the opposite direction of where my nephew was standing. I laughed and the playing resumed once everyone made sure we were OK. My nephew didn’t even know what happened because he was busy picking up pieces of wood to put eat. I stood with my backside to the sun and said, “No, icky, yuck, yuck,” and tried to take the wood from his little fist. He put up quite a fight, but I eventually pried the soggy piece of nature from his little fingers. I threw it into the bushes and kept saying, “Yucky,” and “icky,” over and over. A few seconds later he picked up a stick, turned it horizontal and licked it. How he didn’t learn and grasp my icky mantra is beyond me. I repeated the previous steps and heaved the stick into the air and picked him up. “Let’s go see what your momma is doing,” I said.

I found my SIL sitting in the shade looking so relaxed and peaceful. “Are you wearing Auntie Becky out?” she asked as she took the baby and handed him a bottle. I smiled and said, “Of course not, we are having a fun time.” And I meant every word, but at the same time, I was relieved I could go back to just being an aunt and drying my pants off.

The dance will have to wait

2011-05-10T08:31:00.000-07:00

A coworker told me about the Wye Mountain Daffodil Festival one morning while we waited for the company coffee maker to produce the coveted magic potion. He told me it was just past Pinnacle Mountain and a great local event to check out. I’m always up for an outing and if it’s local and supports hard working people, I’m all for it. This festival, I found out after some research, is a fundraiser for the Wye United Methodist Church. My coworker explained how there is a whole field of daffodils and you are able to pick some and buy bulbs and picnic and frolic in the fields. (Well, he didn’t mention the last part, but isn’t that what you are supposed to do – dance with daffodils?)

Also, I had never been to or heard of Wye before, but with a fun name like that, I knew I had to check it out. Parish had to work last Saturday, so I made myself lunch, grabbed a water bottle and headed out.

Of course I “Googled” to get directions and tried calling the church before I went, but all I got was a busy signal. I took that as a good sign, as in – the daffodil field is open and someone is too busy to answer the phone. That assumption I made came back to bite me in the end.

The timing actually worked out perfectly, I was in need of some personal/alone time and the journey to Wye provided some nice “me time.” I put in one of my favorite country music CDs, cranked it up, rolled down the windows and jumped on Highway 10. After about 35 minutes, I finally spotted the sign I needed – 113 North. I turned right and arrived at the church about five minutes later. Not one single soul was around and a line of orange cones was lined up in front of the entrance. My little daffodil-loving heart just plummeted into my socks. I looked around to make sure no one was playing a prank on me – they weren’t, because like I said, there wasn’t anyone around.

I gazed out to where the flowers were supposed to be and all I saw was green – not one spec of yellow. I was too late. I visited the Facebook page for the festival when I got home that night; it looks like such a pretty display. I’ve already (mentally) put it on my calendar of things to do next year. Only about 350 days to go…

Despite missing the blooms, the drive to Wye was really nice and getting to pass Lake Maumelle two times was a lovely treat. Since I was already out and about, I decided to walk around Pinnacle and bask in the sunshine. Pinnacle was hopping of course, but the half-mile trail by the playground wasn’t too busy. I also read my book, Little Bee, while sitting in the big open field. It was so peaceful.

By the time I got back in the car, I was a little sunburned, sweaty and thirsty – but I was happy. On the way home I treated myself to an iced coffee at Gellattes and finished my book. There is something to be said about taking some time out for yourself – whether the daffodils are in bloom or not.

A bullutiful ride

2011-04-07T13:03:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you have to “Take life by the horns” literally. I did. During a recent night out, I rode a mechanical bull for the first time in my life. It turned out to be one of the most craziest and silly things I’ve ever done. Truly, it was the highlight of my week, perhaps month.

Parish and I checked out the Electric Cowboy off of Interstate 30. This was only our second visit in over three years, which tells you how much we think about the crazy club. We were actually heading downtown to hang out at a piano bar, when my husband nonchalantly said, “Do you want to go to the Electric Cowboy?” Being in a spontaneous mood and glad to be out of the house, I headed in the direction of the neon sign.

If you’ve never been to the EC – let me preface by saying it’s not a quiet place to meet friends and sip a martini. Trucks occupy a majority of the parking lot and there is a snack cart outside waiting for hungry, inebriated people.

Inside, a humongous dance floor is surrounded by bar maidens waiting to serve you. It’s a great place to go when you want to dance and you don’t care who watches you boot, scoot and boogie. The Electric Cowboy is also a fantastic place to people watch, because of the previous reason.

The mechanical bull resides within the wild walls of the club and for some reason I decided to jump on. Parish rode the bull first and I laughed so hard I thought I was going to need oxygen. My husband is not your traditional looking cowboy, not one bit! Watching him with one arm flapping in the air and the other tightly gripping the rope was almost too much. For $5 you had two chances to stay on the bull for as long as you could. I didn’t time Parish, but I think he stayed on for about 25 seconds. After he fell off for the second time, he asked if I wanted to try it. I hesitated for a moment as I looked at the slowly rocking bull. Then I thought, “What the heck?!”

One of the operators had to help me get on the bull and explained the simple instructions: wrap your legs around the neck and hold on. Slowly, my new friend started moving back and forth and then around in a circle. Part of the experience includes waving an arm in the air and shouting “Yow,” and “Yee-haw!” I was laughing so hard I could hardly get any audible word out. Parish said I squealed the whole time. All I remember is a 360-degree view of the club, Parish cheering and me flopping on the red blowup mat. I’m not sure how long I stayed on the bull, but it was worth $5 and then some. After the first go around, I wanted to try again, but spending $15 for less than 60 second of entertainment seemed a bit much. My forearm was sore the rest of the night – but I’m a tough cowgirl and put up with the pain.

We reminisced about our rides the rest of the night and the following morning. I’m smiling right now as I write this column – proving that taking life by the horns can be a fun $5 ride.

A shoe-in worth writing about

2011-03-18T08:33:00.000-07:00

Elbows were flying, ladies were running, I was sweating and running barefoot. This recent craziness took place during a shoe sale at Dillard’s. It wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done and in order to snag a good pair of shoes, you had to be ready both physically and mentally.

I didn’t plan on going crazy, but when my bargain radar intercepted the 70 percent off signs above the racks and racks of shiny shoes, all bets were off. Seeing me go into bargain hunter mode was nothing new for Parish and he sought safety in another store. He’s a smart man. I wear a very feminine size 10, so I thought I would find the lonely rack and wouldn’t have to wrestle with the other little feet people. I was wrong. There wasn’t any organization and size fives were next to eights and size sixes were hanging out with nines. It was complete mayhem!

On the outskirts of the racks I found a couple lost boxes and low and behold, a beautiful pair of my-size 10, faux snake skin heels. Trust me, these shoes are absolutely lovely and it was must-have-at-first-sight. I clutched the box tightly as I went in to the main arena.
You had to keep on eye on your treasures; one lady interrogated me about where I found the good-looking pair. At this point, I took off the shoes I came in, plus socks and was trying on shoe after shoe. I have honestly never had that much fun shopping for shoes – ever.

Parish finally came out of hiding and found a safe spot to sit while I continued my mad spree. He actually turned out to be very helpful and commented on every pair I tried on. After I was done trying a few on, he would say, “Go back in there!” So I did. After about 25 shoes later, I surrendered. I had made it out alive with three pairs of beautiful shoes.

Parish told me to pick one pair and I nearly cried. One? I panicked and looked at the snakeskin pumps, they had been with me from the beginning. I also found a pretty pair of deep purple, patented shoes and a cute pair of black flats. He could tell that I was on the verge of tears and calmly said, “OK, let’s get all three.” I exhaled and hugged my understanding, patient and great partner in crime.

Please understand that this is not a normal occurrence. I don’t get treated to shoe shopping sprees every weekend. This was the first time sine we’ve been married (3 years, eight months) that I can recall such an event taking place. I wear shoes until something breaks, rips or becomes dangerous.

My mom sends me shoes from Colorado, which helps with my inventory. And if I do treat myself, I usually look at Payless or TJ Maxx first. Most of the shoes were originally $99 each and came to about $35 on sale. One pair was $26. So we got six shoes for the price of two. Isn’t that exciting?

I was beside myself for the rest of the day – I floated home and gingerly unpacked my new finds and arranged them neatly in my closet.

Retail therapy does exist and I think it works even better when you find a great sale and live to tell about it.

Give me something good...

2011-02-24T07:12:00.000-08:00

Aretha Franklin was recently honored during the 53^rd Annual Grammy awards. Before streaming a video of the legend, a group of vocally blessed women paid tribute to the Queen of Soul.

Jennifer Hudson, Martina McBride, Christina Aguilera, Yolanda Adams and Florence Welch opened with "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman." It was excellent. I was familiar with most of the women except Welch, who is supposedly from Florence and the Machine – she was great. They started the show by showcasing their amazing vocal chords and I-can-hit-a-higher-note-than-you competition. Hudson already blew everyone away in “Dreamgirls” and she continues to give Beyonce a run for her money.

I grew up listening to McBride, my dad was and is still a huge fan of the country singer. Aguilera took center stage and even had an extra-fancy microphone and mic stand. I don’t know if she was trying to make up for the anthem flop or what, but she did an outstanding job. Adams belted out a lovely gospel song in honor of Franklin and showed the other ladies how it’s done. The opening act got us in the mood for the rest of the award show – Parish even liked it.

We stuck with the rest of the show, switching back and forth between a basketball game and musical acts. Bieber, as in Justin Bieber, seemed to be the buzzword for the evening. He performed with Jayden Smith and Bieber’s mentor, Usher. The 16-year, Canadian sensation is on fire right now. It will be interesting to see what happens to him once he goes through puberty, cuts his hair and starts driving a car.

As we watched performance after performance, including Lady Gaga coming out of an egg, Parish looked at me and asked, “What artists are going to be remembered from our generation?” He paused, looked back at the screen just as Eminem was shouting something in the microphone. “Can you understand anything he is saying?” Parish asked. I could make out a few words and from the ones I could decipher, it’s safe to say that Eminem is an angry man. Then I thought about Lady G coming on stage in an egg and then crawling out of the egg to sing, “Born This Way.” Seriously, what artists will we tell our children and grandchildren about?

My parents had Elvis, The Beatles, Aretha Franklin, Nat King Cole, the Bee Gees, the sounds from Motown and many more amazing artists.

Not to say that there haven’t been some talented people from the late 80s until now, there has. Let me think…there is the aforementioned talents of Beyonce, Jenifer Hudson, Usher, John Mayer, Madonna (late 90s notably) Carrie Underwood, Kelly Clarkson (both thanks to “American Idol”), John Legend, Lady Antebellum and Jamie Foxx. I’m sure I’ve left out a few, but those were the ones that came to mind as I wrote my column.

There seems to be a lot of one-hit wonder makers who don’t have the staying power of Elton John, Barbara Streisand or Dolly Parton. Perhaps I don’t have a lot of room to talk, because I can’t carry a tune in a bucket, seriously, I was given the only main, non-singing role in a musical. Therefore, I’m not one to judge who gets the right to make their stamp on the singing world. But I am the one who has to listen to it – so give me something good.

Techno is fabo

2011-01-31T13:39:00.000-08:00

Technology came to the Brockman residence recently and we haven’t been the same since. Let me explain – the apartments we live at told us we had to change our Internet and cable providers to AT&T. It wasn’t a suggestion either - it was mandatory and enforced. At the time, we were using Comcast and for the record, were very happy with the service. Nonetheless, since a main source of entertainment is from the TV and Internet, we joined the herd and called AT&T.

Our cable guy showed up at our front door in the time slot he promised and after looking for the right wires for over 30 minutes, hooked us up. For some reason, he gave us wireless Internet, which is something we should’ve done years ago. Thanks to the handy cable guy, I can take the laptop anywhere within the 990 square feet of my living quarters. It is so awesome. I know wireless is not cutting edge anymore and even Taco Bell has WiFi, but it just floats my boat to Google from my kitchen table or bathtub.

In addition to the Internet, we also upgraded our cable and are able to record shows. Again, I know TiVo and DVRs have been around a while, but let me enjoy the coolness of it for a moment. We can record up to four shows at one time while watching another show or when the TV is off. Then we can watch the show or movie and fast-forward through the commercials. I think that is one of the best parts – skipping the stupid commercials. I know they aren’t all dumb, but I’ve seen enough Proactive and Cialis ads to last me a few decades.
Being able to record is great, especially for my husband who usually has about 10 shows he is following at one time. He really likes the DIY (Do it Yourself) Network and HGTV. One day he wants to renovate and sell houses, so right now he is educating himself by watching hours of shows on these two networks. I’m not complaining by any means, I understand there could be a lot less other things he could be in to. I’m glad he doesn’t shy away from hard work, nail guns or dilapidated duplexes. He is so fired up about remodeling a house one day and I know when that day comes, he will do amazing work.

I prefer to record shows like “Intervention,” “Weird Addictions: I eat chalk” and “The Bachelor.” Please don’t judge me – I need a mindless outlet after writing award-winning material all day.

The downside of all these high-tech additions is ripping yourself away from them to have an actual conversation with the person you are living with. On a recent Sunday afternoon, one of us was either on the computer, watching a show or recording something to watch later in the day. When it came time for lunch and dinner - we muted the TV, stopped surfing and listened to one another.

Eventually the newness of the wireless laptop will fade and Parish will get his fill of remodeled spaces and Brad will choose a wife. When all of that does happen, we will have one another and something money can’t buy – laughing and mentally recording more memories.

The lovely library

2010-11-23T12:21:00.000-08:00

There is a public library .7 miles away from where I live in west Little Rock. I absolutely love living so close to such a fine institution of all things literary. At this point, I vow never to buy a Kindle or any other electronic reading device. When it comes to reading, I must be able to turn the pages and smell the history of the book. It’s just one of those things. In the same breath, I’m mildly addicted to my BlackBerry, so I’m all for modern inventions. Just don’t mess with my books!

OK, I think I’ve made my point. In the past year that I’ve lived at Turtle Creek Apartments, I’ve walked to the library about 15 or 20 times. Here’s my routine: I put the book I need on reserve, then the library sends me an email when it’s ready and then I grab my tennis shoes. It’s about a mile and half round trip. Sometimes I add a few steps by turning the corner at Hinson Road, but usually I’m on a mission to fetch my latest must-read.

During a recent trip to my library, I noticed the DVD section while I was retrieving my reserved book from the shelf. I walked over to the colorful rows of movies and started to remove them, one by one, from the shelf. Most of movies were a few years old (or more), but I did see some more recent ones as well. I selected four and made my way to the librarian. When I asked about the DVD rental limit, she told me I could check out five movies at a time. What a bargain!

In my excited state, I forgot that I had to carry four plastic sleeves and one book home with me. It was a balance act for sure. Because I still had my iPod, keys and phone to hold on to. It’s probably safe that the library has a limit, because I could see myself trying to carry 15 movies home and dropping half of them all over the sidewalk. No, four was more than enough.

On this first outing, I checked out the following movies: “Broken Flowers,” “Margot at the Wedding,” “The Bucket List,” and “The Family Stone.”

The first two movies were Sundance Film Festival type of movies, not too mainstream, but very good. Bill Murray and Sharon Stone played old flames in “Broken Flowers.” It was an odd flick, but the soundtrack was amazing, I’m on the search for it. The second movie featured Nicole Kidman, Jack Black and Jennifer Jason Leigh. I enjoyed seeing Kidman in this indie film – she is one talented lady. Funny-man Jack played a struggling musician/critic. He is always fun to watch, so unpredictable and outrageous.

Parish and I watched “The Bucket List” together and I cried at the end, of course. Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman were great together and actually looked like they could be good friends in real life. The last movie, “The Family Stone,” featured an ensemble cast including Sarah Jessica Parker, Diane Keaton, Luke Wilson, Rachel McAdams and Claire Danes. It’s a cute movie. It won’t change your life, but it’s fun to watch. I cried at the end of that one too. Now it’s back to the library for more movies and a book or two.

Scaling back

2010-10-27T09:08:00.000-07:00

Is there such a thing as friendly competition? I’m not so sure. Let me explain. A couple of weeks ago, Parish and I decided to wager a friendly bet after working out one day. The deal was this – whoever lost the most weight in a week would win $20. We weighed in on a Sunday and agreed to weigh in the following Sunday to crown the winner. I wrote our starting weights on a memo pad on the fridge and we both put a $10 bill on it. It was official. I Googled “how to lose five pounds in a week,” and Parish started running around the apartment complex. I never really considered myself to be really competitive – I think my wonderful partner has a way of bringing it out of me.

My Google search suggested eating 1,500 calories a day and burning 1,000 calories at the gym. I didn’t know how difficult it was to burn 1,000 calories until I tried it the following day. At Snap Fitness they have this machine called the Cybex Arc Trainer. It is a beast of a work out and I love it. I can burn about 300 calories in 30 minutes, which is pretty awesome. During the first day of my workout, I jumped on the Cybex and typed in 45 minutes. I burned about 400 calories and then proceeded to get on a treadmill. I stayed on the treadmill for an hour and burned a little less than 400 calories. I was on my way to my Google goal!

I performed the same workout for the next two days and felt good. On day two and three, I add in a little weightlifting and abs exercises. By the fourth day, I’m pooped. I have no desire to go to the gym or burn even 10 calories. I think I might have blown out too fast. Parish exercised a lot during the week also, although, every day he goes to work he does a full body workout. He does concrete work and it’s better than any piece of cardio equipment. He slings sledge hammers, moves mud (concrete), carries heavy pieces of wood and is basically on the move from four to nine hours a day. I love my job, but I must admit, I’m a little jealous of the workout he gets – especially with $20 on the line!

We make it to Saturday night and after working out, Parish jumped on the scale. We agreed to wait until Sunday, but Parish cheated. So then I had to get on the scale too. That is when the competition heated up.

There are two scales at the gym and I got on both of them and got two different results. Naturally, I decided to use the one that showed the greater weight loss. Parish announced that that wasn’t the scale we used and I had to take the number from the “broken” one. I didn’t take this piece of advice too well. I hastily put on my shoes and walked out of the gym in a huff.

When Parish caught up with me outside, he suggested extending the challenge for another week and we agreed to use the scale I liked. I guess there is such a thing as friendly competition – you just have to find someone who knows you really well and likes to see you happy.

Lacey comes to town. Part uno.

2010-09-29T14:01:00.000-07:00

In high school, I couldn’t have enough friends. I was what you call, a “social butterfly.” I enjoyed being the center of attention and I liked when lots of people liked me. Now that I’m a little older (and wiser?) I’ve learned that true friends are treasures and rare treasures at that.

My subject matter hits close to home because my best friend, Lacey B., came to visit me last weekend. We met in college, during our freshman year and hit it off instantly. She is my female soul mate, no doubt.

We both have the same kind of silly, random humor. In college, we could look at a tortilla chip and start laughing. It really doesn’t take much for us to “lose it.” That is one of the things I like about Lacey. It’s so unusual to find a friend who understands you before you’ve said anything out loud.

We were roommates in college for almost four years. Once during our sophomore year we were having a small gathering. The quaint group turned into about 150 when a huge mob of people stormed through our door. It was quite a site and thankfully we were able to keep control and got the crowd to leave. There were also the all nighters we were fond of freshman year. We would study until 2 or 3 in the morning and then decide to walk to 7-11 (a gas station chain) and buy Slurpees, chips and dip. Then we would walk back to the dorms and entertain ourselves until our first class. The entertainment included simple things, like talking about roommate problems, playing pool, baking cookies or running through the halls dodging our RA. Those were the days!

We went to Mexico our senior year and had a blast. We danced, partied and swam for four days straight. I have the underwater camera pictures to prove it. We made friends with our tour guide Miguel and line danced on a party boat.

Now Lacey and I are both in our mid (late)-20s. I’m married and live 1,000 miles away. Naturally, we don’t get to see one another as often as we like. But thank goodness for cell phones, we talk regularly and stay connected via email, Facebook and texts. But nothing is better than being in the same room, laughing and carrying on like old times.

She has been through a lot both personally and professionally this past year. We’ve cried over the phone so many times, so it was so nice to finally express care and concern in person.

I know that we will be friends for a very long time. Sometimes when I see little old ladies with white hair shopping or eating at a bistro, I think of Lacey and me. I also know life will take us on a lot more adventures together. I’m looking forward to the day she gets married and I can throw her an amazing shower like she did for me.

It meant the world to me that she came to Little Rock to visit. This was her second time in the Natural State and I know it won’t be the last.

One milestone

2010-09-23T13:02:00.000-07:00

What do you get for someone turning 1-years old? That was the topic of conversation and shopping adventures recently. My nephew, J, turned one on Sept. 20. The first birthday is a special occasion and must be celebrated. It must be said, I’m simply in love with this little guy.

Parish and I saw him when he was only about an hour old. We were the first ones at the hospital and stayed with my SIL (sister-in-law) as she recovered from the c-section. Twelve months later, our little guy is growing and developing on schedule. Since he had such a tough go at the beginning, this birthday is indeed a milestone.

We went to a family birthday celebration on Sunday and spoiled our little nephew. In order for the spoiling to take place, we had to go shopping to find the perfect gift. Which brings me back to the question I asked at the beginning of my column – what do you get someone who is turning 12 months old? We visited a couple retailers, although Target seemed to have the best selection of age-appropriate toys.

Parish and I perused up and down all of the toy aisles – every, single one. We wandered around hopelessly until we located the protruding signs that read 3 to 6 years old, 1 to 2 years old, 12 to 48 months and the aisle we needed: 6 to 12 months. That aisle turned out to be very entertaining. Most of the toys had lights and sound features with fun buttons and knobs. I think I played with every toy from an eating bird to a steering wheel that sang the ABCs. The toys were educational, but after pushing the umpteenth button, grew annoying. I thought of my SIL. What if my nephew really liked this toy and played with all day? His momma would go mad! I almost did and I only had to put up with it for 10 minutes. Parish and I looked at each other and after some discussion, decided to get her a gift card instead. I’m usually anti-gift card when it comes to giving them, especially for family members. But in this case, it made the most sense.

Now my SIL can get him an outfit, or maybe some diapers. Now she can discover the crazy aisle of baby toys and decide, firsthand, how insane she wants to go. In addition to the gift card, we found the cutest Razorback bibs. One is white with a bright red hog and the second is the same colors, reversed. He is going to look so cute wearing those little bibs as he slurps on his squash.

Celebrating his first birthday with family made me realize that it’s not the amount you spend or the flashiest toy, it’s about being together and honoring this little soul’s life.

I’m looking forward to a lot more birthday parties with this kid. I think it will be easier to find a gift for him next year. I did notice a shiny drum set while were shopping…maybe I will get him that for his 10^th or 30^th birthday. I have a good relationship with his mom; I don’t want it to hit a sour note.

Mr. C and me

2010-09-02T11:11:00.000-07:00

There is something about a cup ‘o joe that just makes me feel so good. I don’t just drink coffee to wake me up, although that is a main component; I actually really enjoy the taste. I was raised in house full of coffee drinkers. In high school, I started hanging out in coffee houses to be cool. I don’t know if I was part of the in crowd, but I was always really hyper.

My college had a Starbucks in the student union building. I passed the famous chain every day, sometimes numerous times a day and resisted the best I could. Money was in short supply, so I had to make good choices about what I spent my moola on. I knew my dad would catch on if I kept calling and asking for money to support my caffeine habit. He would see through the 100^th“I need more cash to buy books, calculators and pencils for test taking,” conversation.

Now that I’m older, I still have to be resourceful with my money. Unfortunately, I drive by a Starbucks every day to work. They continue to tempt me! And I still have an infatuation with everything coffee.

I try to avoid stopping there every day and make it a special treat. For the past couple of months, I swing by there at the end of the week for ‘latte Friday,’ that is the official name that I gave it. Now, due to a recent purchase, I might be making even less stops by ‘bucks. As hard as it is to imagine, I have never owned a coffee maker. My roommate and best friend in college didn’t drink it and now my permanent roomie, Parish, won’t touch it with a 20-foot pole. Who wants to make coffee for one person? It’s like cooking for one – no fun.

During the weekends, my body craves the stuff and I usually end up you know where or grabbing anything that resembles it a nearby gas station. That is why I decided to go ahead and buy a machine already. Last week, I went to Target and to my amazement, found the cutest little four-cup coffee maker. It was love at first sight. He, my new maker, has the most stout glass decanter that you have ever seen. It is also programmable and I’m able to delay the start time. Now, the best part, he was on sale. I found him on the bottle shelf for $16.99. He was originally $19.99, but it was my lucky day. I picked him up, cradled him in my arms and told him about all the fun we would have together.

Then I picked up some of the most adorable coffee filters. They are just the cutest. I almost left the store without the most important ingredient – coffee. After standing in the coffee and tea aisle for a good 15 minutes, I selected a hazelnut bag and headed out. I felt on top of the world. The following morning, Mr. C made a great cup of joe and it cost me about a dime. Being resourceful tastes good, right to very last drop.

Being Aunt Becky

2010-08-13T13:47:00.001-07:00

There are certain combinations of words that make my heart smile. Hearing “I love you,” from my husband of three years is of course one of those combos. I also like hearing, “Let’s get take out,” “Tomorrow’s Saturday,” and “This is 50 percent off the sale price.” Another phrase that just makes me smile from within is “Auntie Becky.” As an only child, I knew I would have to marry someone with siblings if I ever wanted to hear those words. Thankfully, Parish has an older brother and a younger sister. For the past three years, I’ve been an auntie and I love it.

Currently, I have two nieces and two nephews. Three of them live in Colorado, so seeing them more than twice a year is tricky. Thank goodness my sister-in-law only lives about seven minutes away, so seeing my newest nephew is much more convenient. I might be a bit biased, but he is one special little dude. He was born about four months early and weighed a little over a pound at birth. It was very touch and go at the beginning. He is a miracle. It has been so neat to watch this little guy grow from a preemie to a healthy 11-month old.

A couple weekends ago, we had my SIL and nephew over for Sunday dinner. I was so excited to see him. Have I told you how cute he is?

I grabbed him the moment he got in the door and we spent the rest of the afternoon together. We were inseparable as we walked around the apartment, played on the floor and made funny sounds. I hadn’t been around a baby in a really long time, so I forgot how much attention they needed. And he is one energetic little guy so I had to be ready for a lunge, kick and little fingers trying to get tangled in my hair.

Right before we got ready to eat, I gave my nephew a bottle and he fell asleep. His timing couldn’t have been more perfect. The ‘grownups’ were able to eat, talk and catch up while he slept. When we had had our fill of fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, corn, rolls and farm fresh tomatoes, the little guy woke up. He had great timing!

I ran to pick him up from the bed and patted his back as we took laps around the living room. After doing that for about 10 minutes, we settled back on the floor and I did everything in my power to make him happy and content. For some reason, he responded well to loud noises. He especially liked when I pumped my fist in the air and shouted, “Yeah, yeah, yeah!” The giggles that came from his little mouth made me melt. Pretty soon we became the main attraction. His mom and Parish muted the TV to hear this little chuckle. The louder I got, the more he grinned. We had so much fun together.

Around 8 p.m., he started getting sleepy and honestly, I did too. After they left that night, I looked at Parish and gave him a, “are you ready for that?” kind of look. He read my mind and said, “babies are a lot of work. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

I silently agreed and added, “It’s bedtime,” to my list of phrases I adore.

Knee-deep in summer

2010-06-30T13:17:00.000-07:00

Here it is the end of June and I'm finally getting around to write about the summer. I must begin by saying this has been the HOTTEST summer we've experienced here in Little Rock. The temps have been creeping into the 100s and the humidity is like an invisible brick wall you run into every three seconds. I'm glad that I don't have a problem with heat. If I did, I would have a BIG problem living here. OK - with that out of the way, I will share our summer highlights.

June - Parish's best friend (Anu) got married on June 12 and he asked Parish to be his best man. Of course! We rented a car and drove (I know, we are nuts) to Colorado. The weather was surprisingly cool and we enjoyed catching up with my parents and family in Denver. The wedding was absolutely amazing. Since Anu is India and Ashley is American, they combined their cultures and had two weddings. The Indian ceremony was traditional, unique and like nothing I've witnessed before. The colors, costumes, fire, chants and atmosphere were mesmerizing. The second wedding was lovely too. We had an awesome time with Anu, Ashley and their families. Indian people know how to party! All the best to you both, we love you.

Towards the end of the month, we headed to Tunica, Mississippi. Oh yeah, I said Mississippi! The drive down was interesting - it's a blog entry in itself. Parish and I finally made it to Tunica, which is kind of like a mini-Vegas, Southern style. It's a fun place, if you like buffets and gambling. And who doesn't like gluttony?! The whole point of the trip was to attend the Arkansas Press Association's annual convention. We stayed at Harrah's and really had a great time. I'm really glad we really don't get into the whole gambling scene, but I don't mind playing video black jack and getting complimentary drinks. The convention was educational too - I attended a couple sessions and received an honorable mention at the award's ceremony. Clearly, June has been a busy month for the Brockmans, but we are thankful for the opportunity to travel, see family and spend time together. You learn a lot about a person during a 15-hour car ride! Good thing I love him so much.
July looks like a slow ride compared to June, but you never know.

Domestic Diva in training

2010-03-18T10:02:00.000-07:00

My mom’s generation had Betty Crocker and Julia Child for culinary guidance. I have Martha Stewart and Rachel Ray. I can’t afford to make the kind of food Martha does and Rachel, for some reason, really annoys me. Therefore, I’m left alone in my small kitchen to sort out recipes, measurements and find my inner domestic diva. Yikes!
Usually, I consider cooking making a grilled cheese sandwich or scrambled eggs. But, let’s be honest, even a cave man could make those things. Sorry, to my cave men readers, but you know it’s true.
Even though I lack in the cooking guru department, I thought I would try my best to prepare some homemade meals this past weekend. I chose to make a bacon and spinach quiche and lasagna. Parish’s dad, God love him, supplies us with farm fresh eggs by the 18-pack. Which is the main reason I decided to make a quiche, we have over 40 eggs in our fridge and Easter is a month away. I lugged out my cookbook, dusted it off and found a recipe for “quick quiche.” Perfect!
Although eggs are the main ingredient for the popular breakfast dish, I had to drop by the supermarket and get bacon, spinach and hash browns for the crust. You can use a pie crust, but I’m not a fan. I prefer to make a crust using hash browns – it makes the quiche less heavy and I think, a little healthier.
I find fresh baby spinach on sale and after a 12-minute search, semi-lean bacon. While at Kroger’s, I pick up the ingredients for lasagna-ground turkey, two jars of spaghetti sauce, cottage cheese and a box of wide, flat noodles. For the first time, in a long time, I was actually excited about cooking. Parish should have taken a picture, because my domesticity comes in waves – the kind of waves that are very few and far between.
I successfully chopped my spinach and bacon, then gingerly added the ingredients to my whisked eggs. Before that step, I baked the hash browns in a pie dish. I finally set my precious little egg dish in the oven. Less than an hour later, I pulled the quiche out and did a knife check in the middle to make sure it was completely cooked. The knife came out clean and I smiled. Parish had the first bite and said it was great. I smiled again. I rewarded myself with a nap.
After getting my beauty rest, I walked straight to the kitchen and prepared the lasagna. Again, I followed the recipe, well most of the recipe. In the past, I’ve never cooked the noodles first. This method has always worked for me, so I made layers with the uncooked noodles, sauce, cottage cheese and repeated this step until the dish was full. My creation had all the signs of a good meal; it looked and smelled so good. Well, looks can be deceiving, when I took the dish out, some of the noodles were not cooked all the way through. I was very upset! I put the lasagna back into the oven for an additional 20 minutes. In the end, we did eat it, but there were some noodles we couldn’t fight our way through. My lovely husband put his arm around me and said, “You know I didn’t marry you for your cooking skills, right?” Thanks.
Obviously, this domestic diva in training still has a lot to learn.

Kick ball in the dirty

2010-03-18T09:56:00.000-07:00

I had never heard of a kickball association until I moved here. Of course, the game was a hoot when I was in grade school, but when I found out that there was a league for grownups I couldn’t believe it. Further investigation revealed four different leagues of competition within the association. First, there is a laid back league which is just about having fun and playing kickball. Then there is the novice league, which is one step up from laid back. Next in line are the intermediate league and finally, the competitive league. Fellow employee, Misty Brown, AKA “The Gadget Girl” is a kick ball player. She currently plays in the novice league. We were talking about the game recently and she asked if I was interested in playing. I froze. Me - play kick ball? My mind traveled back to 1992, when I was 10-years old playing in grade school.

I could hear the shouts from my friends, feel the perspiration gather on my forehead as I approached the kicking mound. I remembered the whoosh of the ball as it traveled my way and the thump of my foot making contact. The ball rolled a whole five feet and I sprinted like the dickens. Within seconds I was whacked with the ball – out.

Misty asked again, “So, do you want to play?” Since it had only been 17 years since I last played, I hesitated and finally said, “Yes.”

After giving my verbal confirmation, it was too late to back out. I was going to join the world famous Little Rock Kick Ball Association. The following day Misty gave me a waiver to fill out, which certified that I was healthy enough to play and was capable of taking myself to the ER if I broke my leg. Additionally, Misty than told me I needed to come up with a fun name for my jersey. She said I could also use my last name, but I wanted my fans to be cheering something crazy and silly when I came into home plate. I told Misty I had to think about it and would get back to her.

Over the weekend I came up with ‘Bizzie B.’ For most of my life, I’ve gone by Becky, so that is where the ‘B’ part comes from. I also don’t like to sit still for too long and like to keep busy. Do you see where I am going with this? Well, the more I thought about this name, the more I liked it. Then I watched that commercial with the famous quote from Muhammad Ali, “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.” That is exactly what I am going to do on the kick ball field – ‘Bizzie B’ is here to send the ball soaring into the air and sting the home plate!

Unfortunately, my confidence waned when I went to practice. Kicking a big, red bouncy ball was not quite as easy as I recalled. Most of the people had played before and were strategizing about how and where to kick it. I was just happy to make contact with the ball.

My side gig

2010-03-12T13:23:00.000-08:00

In addition to writing for The Daily Record, I also freelance for Women's Inc. Here is my latest article: http://www.womensinc.net/node/667.
Thanks for reading.

Happy (belated) New Year

2010-03-12T12:24:00.001-08:00

Y'all, I cannot believe that I haven't updated my blog in FOR-EV-VERR. It's not because nothing cool has been going. No, it's quite the opposite. I've been one busy lady. Work is going well and keeps me hopping from story lead to another. I'm taking pictures and writing stories and everything in between.

Since it's technically not the new year anymore, I will keep this update brief. I guess one of my resolutions should have been to devote more time to my blog. :( The leaf is turned over and I will be better.

I'm attaching a photo I took of a lion drinking milk at the zoo. Can you tell I don't have kids? Ha.

The big, bad move

2009-08-10T14:16:00.000-07:00

Although we've been moved into our new apartment for about a month. I thought I would share with you my column that I wrote in reference to the move. All I can say, is thank God, we don't have to move for another 13 months.

After four days, over 437 miles and some “heightened” dialogue, we are moved into our new apartment in Little Rock. Parish started moving during the week, while I was at work and accomplished what a whole moving crew would. When it comes to a project, he becomes laser-beamed focused and doesn’t stop until the task is completed.

Parish moved most of the boxes and plastic storage crates and our couch by himself. Yes, he heaved our large couch over his head and carried it down a flight of steps to his truck. Because I didn’t want him to get all the glory, when I got off of work, I put on my comfy clothes and helped him move.

One of the items that we moved was our 45” flat screen TV. I was very nervous about moving this item for a couple of reasons. Mainly because the TV is his baby. Seriously, when we got the Wii and started playing games, he asked me about 500 times if I had the wrist strap secure.

Whenever I get too close to it, he gasps and lunges towards me and says, “Watch out for the TV!” Okay, I get it, it’s one of his treasured toys, but it’s basically a glorified boob tube. Anyway, when it came time to move this electronic fortress of goodness, I froze. I started sweating and couldn’t stop envisioning the TV falling from my feeble grasp and busting into 137 billion pieces. My horrified facial expression caused Parish to pause and ask me if I was really ready to move his baby. I took a deep breath and calculated how far I could run if the TV splattered on the sidewalk. Long story short – it made it safely to the cab of the truck and I didn’t have to sprint back to Colorado.

Based on my experience and two years worth of marital knowledge, I think every married couple should move, at least once. You learn so much about your spouse during the experience. Moods, facial expressions and tones are unearthed like a slow-moving, emotional avalanche. It’s really quite something.

I really learned the importance of communication when it came to moving with Parish. He would ask if I wanted the chair here or there, if I wanted particular artwork on this wall or that and everything in between.

I also failed to mention that the temps were reaching into the 100s during this time, so besides being stressed, we were also melting. At the time of publication, our new pad is about 90 percent settled. Mona Lisa (my cat) is adjusting nicely, although the road trip from Conway was definitely more exciting. Did you know that cats can get car sick? They can and she did. So in addition to heaving 500-pound boxes up a flight of stairs, I had to clean up soggy Seafood Sensations out of the car carrier.

Mona then proceeded to sit in a bowl of water, causing another huge mess and made me question why I adopted the furry feline in the first place! At the end of the day, after the vomit and deluge was cleaned up, I had had enough. I sank into bed and realized being a mother to Mona is all I can handle right now and there is nothing better than lying next to your best friend.

New Orleans - Happy Anniversary

2009-06-18T12:21:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned last month, June was going to be a month of celebrations. First there were birthdays, then came anniversaries and other milestones. I just realized the other day that I forgot to send my dad a Father’s Day card, sorry dad - you know I love you! My mom, aunt and cousin all celebrate their birthdays (consecutively) at the end of the month. No doubt, I help Hallmark hit their quota in June.

Parish and I decided to celebrate our second wedding anniversary in New Orleans. Our first anniversary was spent adjusting to a new state and getting used to the whole married thing. Now that we are settled and really like being together, we decided to hit the open road and head to the Big Easy. I had only been to New Orleans once, pre-Katrina, in college. I warned Parish that the city is really different and to be prepared to see a little of everything. After about eight and half hours in the car, we arrived at the Ambassador Hotel. I researched New Orleans hotels for about three weeks before we went.

I think I ended up finding the best deal – which included free valet parking ($40 value) and a buy one night, get one free special. And besides, when you’re in a place like New Orleans, how much time do you really spend in your room? We discovered we spent about a total of 15 hours. The last night we came in at 3 a.m.

The Ambassador is a historic hotel located about four blocks from Bourbon Street and about 10 blocks from the French Quarter. We walked off every piece of shrimp and spoonful of gumbo we ingested! I’m so glad I brought my tennis shoes, New Orleans is a pedestrian friendly city, everyone walks.

We were only there for two nights and one full day, but we discovered that was ample time to see and do everything. On our first night there, we headed to Bourbon St. and took in every square inch. I have never enjoyed people watching as much as I did on that strip. There are people of all ages, shapes, colors and everything in between. We enjoyed the traditional hurricane drink, which I’m surprised they didn’t rename after the devastation Katrina caused.

Speaking of Katrina, I expected to see some remains of the hurricane, but found the city to be in good shape. I understand that most of the damage took place in the Ninth Ward and areas closer to the levees. Nonetheless, the city was packed with tourists and locals and seemed to be recovering well.

The following day, we enjoyed the French Quarter and all it had to offer. We just so happened to plan our trip as the same time as the 23rd Tomato Festival. Vendors were selling tomatoes, trinkets, hats, and souvenir goodies galore. Parish and I were overwhelmed! We actually went back to our hotel and took a little nap before dinner. I failed to mention that it was about 99 degrees outside, with a humidity index of 1000 percent. After our nap (and lots of water), we headed back to the bright lights of the city and enjoyed an anniversary dinner and one more trip to Bourbon St.

Happy anniversary Parish, here’s too many more years and fun road trips.

June 8, 2009

2009-06-18T12:15:00.000-07:00

I just celebrated my 27th birthday. I’m another year older, wiser and closer to 30. For some reason, 27 sounds A LOT older than 25 and 26. I don’t know why. Although, seven is my favorite number, so I expect good things to come from this year. I also realize that age is just a number and you are only as old as you think you are. I know, I know…but still, it’s kind of weird. I remember when I was little and birthdays were monumental events. Planning started months before the actual day and the excitement spread like a wild fire once you told your best friends about the affair.

When I was 11-years old, I wanted Barbie dolls and scrunchies. This year I’m hoping for a new Blackberry, designer eyeglasses and a day at the spa. What happened? I guess I’m just growing up, but I long for the day of invitation-only birthdays and themed decorations.
I once had a backward birthday. Everyone wore his or her clothes backwards and we even ate the cake before the pizza. I had a blast and I know everyone else did too.

I remember playing games in my backyard, the relay race that involved spinning around a bat 34 times and then carrying a bucket of water down the yard still makes me grin. When I got older and slumber parties were thrown into the mix, I was in heaven. Slumber party birthdays were the best – you could party all day and ALL night. What is better? I remember it was always a challenge to see who would fall asleep first. If I could hit a big rewind button, I would go back to a slumber birthday party.

I remember one birthday party I had a park, I think that was the one where we had a piñata. One of the advantages to being an only child, you can kind of have whatever you want on your big day (within reason). For instance, the live tigers and trapeze artist were out of the question.
For my 21st birthday, my parents threw me the best surprise party of all time at the neatest Irish Pub called Jack Quinns (in C. Springs). My parents planned quite a blow out. There was an Irish band, complete with Irish dancers. All of my family and closest friends were there. As long as I live, I know I will never, ever forget that day.

Last year, was my first birthday in Arkansas. I don’t really remember what we did. This year, we are combining my birthday (6/8) and our second wedding anniversary (6/15) celebrations and heading to New Orleans. I already know that will be a birthday for the memory books! I guess I just need to be thankful that God has blessed me with another year of living and every birthday is happy, because you are able to celebrate it.

Free?

2009-02-12T10:15:00.000-08:00

I’ve been told my whole life that if something sounds too good to be true, it probably isn’t true to begin with. Therefore, when I heard the news that Dillard’s was giving away free makeup, I turned the channel. Yeah right, people are just handing out free products with names like Estee Lauder and Ralph Lauren at no charge. Then my husband told me about the offer.

Once again, I brushed off the news and assumed it was a media hoax. The next day my friend sent me a text and asked me if I got my free product at Dillard’s. She told me that she went last Tuesday night and got a big tub of Sarah Jessica Parker shower gel. Okay, enough of this doubt, I needed to take action.

First, I made a game plan, which included research. I Googled Dillard’s and the words “free” and “makeup.” I held my breath and pushed enter. Immediately, 144,000 hits appeared on my screen. (I’ve come to believe that if you can Google something, it must be true). A report out of Reno said the massive giveaway started when the cosmetics industry was sued by several women from Northern California.

The women accused the industry for allegedly price-fixing their products and over-charging customer for about a decade. According to the report, the department stores and makeup companies denied the claim, but eventually settled the case in court. The settlement demanded that the companies involved give away $175 million in free products. At this point, I’m still thinking there is a catch, because $175 million worth of mascara and perfume excites and exhausts me!

According to the settlement, if a person bought make-up at a department store between 1994 and 2003, he or she would most likely qualify. All someone had to do to receive a free make-up product was sign a petition saying that you bought a make-up product from the participating stores, including Dillard’s and Macy’s during that period. At this point, I’m in my car and heading to Park Plaza.

I decided to go after work to beat the rush. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a herd of angry women rushing into Dillard’s demanding free merchandise. There was short line and a pleasant lady with a clipboard. I looked to the head of the line and to my dismay, only saw two products to choose from. My little Chanel heart just sank.

After signing my name, I approached the table of free products and tried to smile. There was a pile of light blue boxes and a stack of oblong, white boxes. One container wiped away wrinkles, the other promised a moisture surge. Honestly, this is not the atmosphere I expected. Everyone was calm, patient and happy with the lack of free products. I wanted to see trays of perfume, gold leafed bowls flowing with mascara and lipstick. Instead, I encountered a very pregnant Clinique saleswoman with a good attitude, who recommended the moisture surge.

I took my small box, smiled at the helpful woman and left the store. A couple days later I Googled the face cream and discovered that it retailed for around $35. A smile spread across my moisture surged face and established my belief that if something sounds to good to be true, Google it and then go.

Twitter and tweets

2009-02-12T10:11:00.000-08:00

This technology age is a funny thing. We can e-mail from our bathtub, use our phone to find the nearest restaurant and listen to music on something the size of a matchbook. It’s also a very interesting time if you are a young person and your parents are baby boomers. I can speak from experience, because I am that young person and my parents, God love them, are from a time when love, peace and happiness were all that mattered.

For example, our family has a treasured home movie from back in the day; my mom thinks it’s from the 60s. The last time we gathered together, we had to hunt to find a projector to play the film. It was amazing, both the hunt and the actual home movie. We all gathered in my grandpa’s living room, pulled down the large, white window shade and watched the good old days, in silent color.

For being about 50 years old, the film wasn’t in that bad of shape. After laughing at the bell-bottom pants, long hair and curly mullets, my family decided to put the film on video. That was about 10 years ago, so now the VHS tape is considered ancient. Now someone needs to take the memories off the video tape and put it on a DVD.
My point is, in this era we are blessed to live in, we can now record an event on our phone and download it straight to the Internet for the world to see. Facebook and MySpace have completely revolutionized how we communicate.

Which brings me back to my original theme, (my) parents and the world wild web. My mom, who I adore, combines the two programs and calls it Facepage. As soon as I tell her whom I found on one or the other, she demands that she wants a Facepage or Mybook. Now, my father is much more up to date. So much so, that he suggested we start communicating on Twitter. Excuse me? Before my dad mentioned the newest way to e-communicate, I had never heard of it. I couldn’t believe my dad was introducing me to a new outlet on the Internet, I felt so lame and out of touch. Why didn’t I know about Twitter? I’m online over half my day!

Anyway, Twitter is a real-time short messaging service. As a member you can follow and “tweet” with other members. You have 140 characters to express what you’re doing, what you are thinking or what you had for breakfast. It’s fun and simple. You can post a photo of yourself that shows up as a tiny thumbnail. Twitter doesn’t require you to list quotes, personal information or marital status. Twitter is about communication on the go and takes less than two minutes to log on, update status and see what others “tweeters” are doing. My screen name is beckysue33, just in case you are interested in following my random thoughts, mood or lunch selection.

As crazy as the technology age is becoming, I’m enjoying the advances and look forward to the latest gadget. Cell phones and e-mail help with the distance between my parents in Colorado, my cousin in Florida and my dear friend in Northern Ireland. So, it doesn’t matter whether you have a Mybook or Facepage, the important thing is to stay in touch and keep up to date. Thanks dad!

Mud Run-Completed

2008-11-20T12:21:00.000-08:00

I competed in my first 5K and had a blast! My muddy buddy, Brooke Teeter and I had too much fun wading in the freezing, gross mud. We jogged and walked for most of the 3.1 miles, but worked off the calories fighting through the mud. Race participants HAD to go through the 300-foot mud bath to complete the race. The photos are pre and post race. We are already looking forward to next year.

Thanksgiving is thanksliving

2008-11-20T10:31:00.000-08:00

I actually took the title of this blog from a church marquee in Conway. As a journalist, I like to give credit where credit is due and always, always cite my sources. With that said, I want to wish everyone an (early) Happy Thanksgiving. I know the holiday is still a little while away, but if the pace of life continues like has been, I need to this early.

There is not a lot of new elements to report on. We are doing well, staying busy with work and life in Arkansas. We are planning on making our annual trek to Colorado for Christmas this year. I know...we are crazy! Hopefully this time will be better, we have TomTom (GPS navigation). I almost got out of the truck in Oklahoma last year. Ruth will also be joining us this year, so now I have a witness if I strangle Parish. Darn.

Thanksgiving will be spent with P's parents, who cook like Thanksgiving every Sunday. I'm planning on wearing sweats to the dinner table. No joke! Brock and his family will be coming from Denver. It will be nice to see the whole lot of them. I'm planning on bringing something, I'm just not sure what. Parish said it was fine if I just brought some wine. Umm...no. I'm not going to your mom's with some bottles of wine. I guess it's a woman's pride thing. Ruth is an AMAZING cook, so I'm not just going to waltz in there with liquor.

I will let y'all know what I bring to the table and how it goes. Just a little check-in to say all is well with the Brockmans. If you live in Colorado, you know where to find me.

I'm not a runner...but I like to get dirty

2008-09-24T13:43:00.000-07:00

If you are reading this, then you probably know me well. If you know me, then you know I'm not a runner. Although, I would like to be. I would like to be one of those people that gets up early in the morning, eats a banana and heads out for a pre-dawn run. I'm quite the opposite. Last year, I broke my snooze button.

Last week, I was filling Miss Pearl and glanced up at the billboard. Being in the media industry, I try to read everything and that includes billboards. This particular bigger-than-life advertising had information about a 5K mud run. It's exactly what it sounds like. You run for 3.1 miles and then there is a HUGE mud bath at the end. Count me in!

I casually mentioned this to Becca, a girl in my book club. Immediately she said, "Let's do it." Then I mentioned it to my other friend Brooke and she started training for it before I could finish my sentence. So, it looks like I will be competing in my first race in exactly one month. I have 30 days to train. Thankfully, I'm somewhat fit (I think) and I enjoy exercising. Brooke and I are taking a strength and conditioning class at a uni twice a week. We have decided to start training, no time like the present, ya know?!

Tonight is our first trial jog. I will keep this blog updated and let you know how it goes. If you have any 5K pointers, let me know.

September update

2008-09-12T09:06:00.000-07:00

Y'all, I haven't been on here for a little while. The Daily Record has been keeping me very busy. I have become the official photographer at the paper. Which is fun. I get to attend a variety of events, from hanging out in the alley to catch the new recycling program downtown to sitting in a plush, leather chair in the Governor's conference room at the Capitol. I'm (hopefully) getting better at taking pictures, it's a learning process for sure.

I also just recently got my own column. It's called Capital City Chatter. The column is fun, because I can write about anything I want. I've wrote about buying new furniture, my book club, moving to Arkansas and being a newlywed. The format is informal and (within reason) I can write about anything my little heart desires.

The more I write, the more I like it. I'm trying to get into the freelancing world as well. It's good to know that no matter how technical savy the world gets, they will always need someone to write about it.

Parish is doing well and the second part of his business is going well. He is such a hard worker. I'm so proud of him. We went to see Les Mis the other night and really enjoyed it. It was Parish's first theatre experience and he is ready for another thesbian experience soon. I'm so glad. I'm no stranger to the stage and the wonderful world of acting, so of course I enjoyed it. I have to admit, I teared up at the end. I know, I know...

We are continuing to learn more about this humid state and the best thing is that we are doing it together. There are highs and lows, but mostly high points. We are taking Parish's parents to Tunica, Mississippi (I had to sing the song to spell it, sad!) I've never been to Mississippi, so that will be a fun, new experience.

I will blog about that when we return.
Thanks for checking with the Brockmans, if you read this, we love you! And probably miss you.

"Lighting the match"

2008-08-22T13:25:00.001-07:00

I took a lot of things away with me from college, knowledge, experience, my husband and a lot of mismatched furniture. Freshman year, I lived in the dorms (which will be a whole other column entry one day) and furniture was provided in the 25’ by 25’ foot room. Coming to my senses, I moved out at the end of the second semester and found a four-bedroom apartment on party row Avenue.

Desperate to get out of the dorms, I took any piece of free furniture I get my little, eager hands on. My three roommates had the same attitude and in the end, we had two couches, a 25” TV, a dining room table and a wine opener. We were going to be all right!

Living arrangements became considerably better from there. I moved each year and always picked the apartment on the highest floor. I’m sure my friends and family members appreciated my ‘elevated’ choices and annual move. My smorgasbord of furniture followed me to graduation, where I dropped the couches, desk and anything else that wouldn’t fit in the truck, at Goodwill. I like to think that another little, naïve freshman discovered the couch and took it to a good home.

When the time came to move to Denver, I had to go on the hunt for furniture again. My parents bought me a pink couch for $25, which I promptly covered with a couch slip and a chair. One of my aunts had given me a TV and I had my bed from college. Again, I was so excited about moving out and living in Denver, the array of furniture did not bother me one bit.

When I married Parish, he brought a new couch and a much bigger TV into the marriage, thank goodness! He did bring an awkward coffee table and an ugly, black TV stand. Until about a month ago, we tolerated the arrangement of furniture and have been thankful to have a place to sit, put a drink and relax. It also doesn’t help that HGTV (the Home and Garden channel) is on almost 24/7. Watching people decorate their houses with fun, matching furniture is hard to watch night after night! We reached the breaking point and visited Furniture Row in Conway. The only place to sit in the living room is a couch, so we set out to find an additional sitting piece, whether it be a recliner or overstuffed chair.

Parish did some pre-shopping and found the perfect piece, a chaise lounge (think one-sided fainting couch) that actually matched our couch. The lounger came with a huge pillow. One side of the pillow matched the couch; the other side was covered in a funky, colorful, square design. Furniture Row did sell smaller matching pillows; unfortunately they were $50 a piece. I didn’t even look over at Parish; I knew he was already shaking his head no. The lovely addition was picked up a week later and looks great next to the couch.

Unfortunately, the current pillows (on the couch) didn’t match the new, big one on the chaise lounge. Perhaps that is a minor detail to some, but for me, the old pillows jumped out at me every time I walked in the room. The hunt for perfect pillows began last weekend. My momma raised me to be a bargain shopper, so we headed to Big Lots, Hobby Lobby and then Pier One. I need to mention an important part of the story; I was carrying the over-sized pillow from the chaise lounge with me.

Regardless of how silly I looked, we found some affordable, matching pillows at Pier One. Our minor design project was complete and a success. Now onto the TV stand and coffee table, to be continued…

My Hero?

2008-06-30T14:08:00.000-07:00

I never played a lot of video games as a kid. I chose to spend my time outside or on a stage. Thank goodness Parish isn't a big-time gamer, although Madden almost ended our relationship in college (but, that's a different blog entry). He does enjoy video games, but not to the point of compromising our marriage.

Perhaps I spoke too soon...about six-months ago, he began talking about this thing called a Wii. The more I learned about it, the more I thought it would be fun to own. Stores couldn't keep this game system in stock and with the three-digit price tag, I thought we could hold off. Parish continued to talk about it and the more I heard about it, the more I wanted to play it too. An interactive game that gets you off your tookus and whips you into shape...um, yeah! All the lights went on around our one-year anniversary and I made it my mission to find a Wii and surprise Parish. My mission was more complicated than I thought and after calling 400 Targets, in Arkansas and Colorado (I was desperate!) I located a GameStop that had it. Only thing was, the store was about an hour away from Little Rock. I sent an email to my (very understanding) boss and headed out to complete my mission. Two-and-half hours later, I had the coveted Wii. I thought to myself, "This thing better be a load of fun...or else!"

Needless to say, we joined the masses and enjoy bowling, tennis, golf and boxing from the comfort of our living room. The only thing I didn't know is that Wii is a drug. Okay, not in the physical sense, but very much in the MENTAL sense. The people at Nintendo know what they're doing. First of all, only one controller comes with the system, if you want to play with another person, (i.e. have fun) you need another controller. One of those puppies cost $60 and, oh yeah, you have to get this other controller in order to play some of the games. Price: $20. Eighty-dollars later and you haven't even turned the thing on! We might be eating rice and beans for the next couple of months, but at least we're having fun!

Turns out, Wii is A LOT of fun. The first day we got it we played it for at least three-hours. GH was the same way. The games require much more movement than I expected. After a couple rounds of boxing, I had to get water and sit down. Seriously! Parish enjoys tennis and we both like bowling. There is a feature on the system called Mii and you can create characters. The created characters show up in the game later on. You can create Mii characters to look like you or create a funky person and give them a name like "Lulu B" or "Lil B." I honestly have just as much fun creating a Mii than I do playing the actual game, true story.

Guitar Hero is another story. It is more frustrating than I imagined, although I'm slowly getting the hang of it. I've only thrown it once. Parish is catching on a lot more faster than I am (of course). GH brings out my competitive side and it is NOT pretty. Perhaps the jump from no video games to the most interactive games on the planet wasn't the best choice. But nonetheless, we have invested too much time and money to turn back now. Wii like to play.

Miss Pearl

2008-06-20T11:39:00.000-07:00

After rockin' the '87 Honda Accord and the '95 Ford Taurus, I have joined the millennium. Parish and I purchased "Miss Pearl" yesterday after a very long, hard-fought battle. Let me start at the beginning...

About two-months ago, I started breaking down on the side of the road. We would get it towed (thanks Allstate and Shaun, my personal, tow-truck driver) and checked out. They would do some minor repairs and send me on my way. I would then drive hundreds of miles and then out of the blue, break down again. This must be said: I totally lose it when I break down on the side of the road. Not a little bit, I turn into a crazy lady. First, I call everyone I know and tell them I am broken down at the side-of-the-road. After I have enough sympathy, I call and order a tow. Then I call everyone back and tell them a tow truck is coming. It goes on like this until I get the car back. Well, after breaking down twice in one day, Parish and I decided to start looking for another car. Warning: looking for cars causes heated battles, proceed with caution.

After going through the car salesman/dealer fiasco, we decided to stop looking and ride out the Taurus for another year. At this point in time, the car mechanic couldn't find anything wrong with the car. I was (somewhat) content to wait the year out and ride off into the sunset in my Hummer when the time came to get my new car. Fast forward two-weeks: I needed to go take a photo for a story I was writing. I approach the car, get in, turn the key, it idles...and then DIES. Maybe I'm dreaming, so I try it four more times, same response. I can see myself picking out the interior for my Hummer and then reality sets in, "FIND A RELIABLE CAR!"

I go through my routine of calling everyone I know and then I call Parish and after a few choice words, he decides to head out that moment and start looking for a replacement car. During the first go-round I test drove a Jeep Commander and Jeep Compass. Second go-round was a Ford Five Hundred and a second Jeep Commander. Then I test drove a Huyndai Sonata and then finally a Nissan Altima. Finally, the Altima was chosen as the winner. After countless hours of research, Parish marched into the dealer with numbers in hand and fought a good fight. We walked away with a great deal and a 2005 Nissan Altima.

This was a very good, learning experience. Parish is such an amazing, strong person. I'm so proud of him. Hopefully we will not have to wage war against the dealership for a long time. I'm in love with my new car. She's crazy fast, good on gas and a joy to drive. I guess I will just have to call everyone and tell them my car is working great!

504,000 Minutes

2008-05-30T13:29:00.000-07:00

When I was seven-years old, I thought my sixteenth year was going to be the best year of my life. Twenty was ancient and I would be married and done having children at the age of 23. I'm turning 26 in two-weeks. I have changed my mind about the best year of my life and the whole kid idea by 23. I accomplished the marriage part. Parish and I will be celebrating our one-year on June 15. As of now, we have been man and wife (or husband and woman) for 350 days. That is a lot of days.

Of those 350 days, we have only spent one night apart (sniff, sniff). Well, there are the nights P comes to bed at 2 or 3 a.m. after falling asleep on the couch watching basketball.
During the past 8,400 hours of our marriage we have: traveled 1,200 miles to Arkansas (with a cat), unpacked our lives and decorated a new one, started a successful business, ate 100 pounds of catfish, drove to Memphis during Elvis's anniversary, hosted my mom and dad (we had a really fun time), traveled back to Colorado (a mere 16 hour trip), bought and assembled a desk (7 hours later, I was a mean mess), took up daily walks (almost), learned about sharing and tri-folding towels and fell more in love. It has been an amazing year.

Moving to Arkansas a week after getting married didn't seem like a good idea at the time, but I clearly see how healthy it was for us.

Being far away from family and friends has been very difficult, especially for me, but it has allowed Parish and me to find our legs and really learn about this whole marriage thing. As an only child, I depended on my wonderful parents (a lot!) and it has been hard shifting my reliance to another person. Every day is filled with (marital) lessons. Like the time I went to Bed Bath and Beyond and bought myself a new pillow. I proudly showed Parish my new buy and he asked why I didn't get him a new pillow. I was speechless. He said that now that we are married, when you go buy something like a pillow or a toothbrush, you automatically get another one for your lover. Hmmm...not a bad set-up. I promptly went the next to BB and B the next day and bought him a new pillow and later swung by Target for a new toothbrush.
I guess I have a lot left to learn about this sharing thing. So, here is to the next 504,000 minutes.

Unofficial honeymoon

2008-05-21T13:54:00.000-07:00

Driving a Budget truck with a '95 Ford Taurus in tow is not my idea of a honeymoon. It's not Parish's idea either. But, at the time, the wedding and the move had to happen close together. And looking back at it, it made sense not to go on a honeymoon right after the wedding. We were exhausted. We would have slept on the beach the whole time if we would have jetted out on June 16. But, as our one-year (June 15) is approaching, I think it's time for a honeymoon.

I've talked to some couples and they tell me they didn't take a honeymoon either, but there planning on it. She was telling me this as her little boy was smashing a cupcake in his face. Okay, so I made up the kid part of the story, but really, I want to take a honeymoon BEFORE kids. That's the whole idea. And although we aren't planning on having kids for at least 15 more years, I want to enjoy the beach and nightlife while I'm still young and silly. I know a part of me will always be young and silly, but there will be parts of me that won't look good in a swim suit!

Parish and I have not been on a "real" trip together since we've been married. He has also never been out of the country. I have been blessed with many miles of oversea travels. It's time for P to cross a sea, or at least get a passport and for us to enjoy a trip as a married couple! Is that too much to ask? I don't think so. But now the planning part is getting tricky. Finding a reasonable, nice place is a daunting task. I've read numerous reviews and visited countless Web sites. I have found a travel agent in Conway, because I would like to talk to a real person and make sure the hotel we book is actually ON the beach. When I went to Cozumel with my best friend Lacey in college, the travel agent forgot to tell us that our hotel wasn't on an actual sandy beach. Instead, there was a man-made beach and you had to climb down a sketchy ladder to get to the ocean water. Totally bootleg.

We are hoping to go before the end of the year. We are in the process of getting our passports and bodies in beach-shape. I will keep y'all posted. You will definitely know when a honeymoon vacation is booked. You will hear a "Whoo-hoo!" from the southwestern part of the country.

Gate update

2008-05-07T14:19:00.000-07:00

Okay, the gates are (literally) up and running. Thank goodness. I know I mentioned that I didn't believe in the purpose of the gates. But, I do now. The beautiful metal gates have been back in action for almost a month now and it seems like things have returned to normal.

Parish still does nightly checks on his beloved trucks. God bless the person he finds tinkering with his black diamond (the name he gave his F-250).
We have decided to stay at The Ridge for at least one more year. We both want a house and a yard and freedom to run around without someone pounding on the wall to stop us. I want to live where someone isn't playing basketball (we live right behind the b-ball courts) all hours of the day. Thankfully, the court closes at 8:30 p.m. Although, we have to remind some rude people. Who plays basketball at 11:30 at night?! Seriously.

We recently rearranged our entire living room and kitchen area. It looks like a new apartment. The minor remodel was Parish's idea and a good one at that! I will try to post some photos soon. We are trying our best and enjoying what life is teaching us one day at a time at the Ridge, with the two, working gates.

Two gates

2008-04-17T14:18:00.000-07:00

After Parish convinced me to head south and live in Conway, Arkansas, the next important thing was finding a nice place to live. We decided to find an apartment, which would allow us to get our bearings and see what life would be like here. A house poses all types of responsibilities and investments that we weren't (and still are not) ready for. I started looking for apartments online and found a few. I sent Parish to scout them out and let me know if they looked as good as they did in virtual land. He visited a couple and said I would like The Ridge apartments.

When I visited in May, he took me there and we both liked everything about The Ridge. One selling point that attracted us immediately was the security gates at the entrance and exit. Only people that lived there received a clicker that opened the gate. Guests/sketchy people had to check in at a separate drive-in. You had to know someone that lived there in order to be "buzzed" in and then the gate opened. High-tech right?!

Well, it didn't take us long to realize that once someone drove through the gate, a car could follow behind and due to the motion sensor, the gate would stay open. Not as safe as we all thought. But, by then we had 51 weeks to go on our lease. We would watch a string of cars come in and not really know if any of them actually lived there. So, the big security gates had some issues, but I think they do keep some of the general public out. That was until a drunk driver drove through both gates. Oh yes, a genius drove through the "enter" gate while it was closed, flipped a u-turn and drove through the "exit" gate. Neat.

It took three-weeks to fix the darn gates. During the three-week gate hiatus, weird things started happening around the apartment. Parish found a dirty mop in the back of his truck and vomit on top of his truck. Gross! Some punk graffitied the trash can area and stole a sign off of P's truck. There was also odd people driving around the complex and acting sketchy.

Now that the gates are fixed, problems have subsided. So, maybe I will have to re-think the actual safety of the gates now. I guess they do serve an important purpose.

My future pet

2008-04-10T12:42:00.001-07:00

For all of you that do not know the story about how I became the owner of my cat, Mona Lisa, let me summarize. After graduating from UNC, I thought I would have to fight off all of the job offers that would be coming my way. Yeah right. During one of my countless interviews and answering the age-old interview question, "So, where do you see yourself in five years?" The interview took a very bad turn. I won't go into detail, but I left in tears. Not just a few tears, but big, baby tears. I was devastated.

Instead of heading to Cherry Creek to buy an expensive pair of shoes, I headed to the Dumb Friends league, in Denver to adopt a cat. I'm not kidding. I had wanted a cat for awhile and I knew the cat would love me, regardless of having a job or not. After "meeting" with a few felines, I fell in love with my Mona and I took her home that day. I called Parish and told him I had a surprise. "I adopted a cat!" He didn't believe me, until he saw Mona in the fur.

Okay, so I didn't get the job, but I got a cat and to this day, I'm so glad I had such a nightmare interview, because I love the dickens out of my cat. That said, I recently "met" a dog and I fell in love.

My future dog, who I'm going to name Vinci (like Leonardo Da vinci). Mona Lisa and Vinci, too cute, right?! For those of you who know me well, know that I have wanted a greyhound for about 100 years. And I still do, but there is something about this boxer/redbone hound mix that is tugging at my lil' heart strings. I saw the dog in person in Kansas and was attached from the beginning. You have to see this dog in person, they are so neat looking.

I will let you know when we get Vinci, but don't hold your breath. I'm afraid it will be a little while. Until then, I will just have to pretend like I did when I was five. "Here Vinci, come here boy." See...it works!

Club of books

2008-04-07T13:46:00.000-07:00

I am in a book club. Before you pass judgment, let me explain. Prior to my involvement in book club, I was weary too. I thought book club was a group of stuffy women getting together to discuss boring books over tea or some other dull beverage. After joining my first book club in Denver, I couldn't have been farther from the truth.

My first book club experience began on craigslist. After responding to the post and reading the book the organizer listed, I headed to downtown Denver to meet with someone supposedly named Angela in her high-rise apartment. Honestly, I didn't know if Angela really existed or if I was going to end up stuffed in a trunk, but I was ready for anything

Turned out, there were other girls my age, with fun cheese platters and glasses of wine. Phew!

My Denver book club was hilarious. We read books, talked about life, laughed and became close friends. Sometimes we only discussed the book for the first 20 minutes and the rest of the time we talked about the facts of life, but it didn't matter.

Another neat thing about book club is the opportunity to read books that you would have never picked up on your own.

For instance, I was part of another book club in Denver for a short time and the organizer said the club was going to read, "The Curious Incident of the dog in the Night Time." I know for a fact that I would have NEVER picked up the oddly-titled book at the local library. But I did pick it up, read it and truly enjoyed it. Who knew?

After moving to Arkansas, I thought starting a book club would be a great way to meet people. Following the success of craigslist in Denver, I posted an ad for people interested in a local book club to contact me. Only two girls responded, but I was excited to start reading and discussing again, so we set up our first meeting. That was about nine months ago and we are still reading strong. It is such a fun experience to read a book and then discuss it with people. Everyone has different opinion and view of the author and story.

I'm looking forward to the next nine months of book club. I also encourage anyone, at any age to get involved with a local book club. At least pick up a copy of "The Curious Incident of the dog in the Night Time." Let me know what you think.

Happy reading!

No big deal

2008-04-02T13:45:00.000-07:00

Okay, so when I walked out of the meeting and found a man standing by my car with a piece of paper, I thought, "No big deal." When he said he had backed up into my bumper and I looked to see a small hole (not a dent) in my green bumper, I still thought, "No big deal." Since this guy stuck around and waited for me, I thought he must be a nice, caring individual that wouldn't take me for a ride. No big deal.

I hopped in my car, business card in hand, with a personal note on the back saying, "I backed into your car, call my #" and he signed it. After I arrived back at work, I called my insurance agency, becuause, "I'm in good hands," and proceeded to tell them my dilemma. No big deal. The insurance agent said not to worry, there was nothing I could do, the "nice" guy who backed up into ME would need to handle everything on his end.

Fastforward (two weeks later) and numerous emails and phone calls later...I still have a hole in my '95 Ford Taurus and the man who shall remain nameless, claimed that I was two-feet over the line and has agreed to only pay 50%. It then became a BIG deal.

Parish tried calling him and calmly explaining that he was at fault. His response: "Sue ME!" click.
Now, I am not a confrontational person, I'm just not. But I think I could really learn how to confront this guy if I saw him in dark alley.

All that said, I am hoping to get the bumper fixed next week. I know what your thinking, it's a '95 Ford Taurus, not a 2008 Hummer, but it's MY '95 Taurus. It's the principle of the whole situation.

So, in the future, if a "nice" person backs into you, sticks around and hands you a note, call the police and exchange information. Avoid the headache and anger management classes by getting information and then it will be, "No big deal."

June 15, 2007

2008-03-28T09:09:00.000-07:00

Life forever changed on the evening of June 15, 2007. I became a Brockman and was married in front of family, friends and most importantly, God. After one and half years of engagement, Parish and I became man and wife at the Oxford in downtown Denver. We planned the whole event and I must admit, it was perfect. With the help from friends and family, the wedding was a beautiful and amazing celebration.

In case you were not able to attend the party for yourself, here is a re-cap: A beautiful Colorado evening, Oxford Hotel in LoDo, mashed potato martini bar, carrot cake, pineapple cake and marble with fruit filling. Green, classic dress, flying flowers, white hats, dancing, lots of dancing, laughter, champagne, tears, colorful, fun and F-A-M-I-L-Y.

Parish and I enjoyed the wedding and being surrounded by dear friends and family. Parish's amazing grandmother was there, we were so glad she was able to be part of our day. P's parents flew in from Arkansas and most of his immediate family were present. Both of my parents walked me down the aisle. It was a very special moment. Later on, my mom and dad both cut some serious rug. I will never forget my dad's skinny little arms waving around and dancing.
Most of my aunts were able to come from Colorado Springs, Kansas, Arizona and Wisconsin. My cousin Sarah that I grew up with surprised me and flew in from Florida. As well as a surprise visit from my cousin and her family from Kansas. My good friend Willy from N.Ireland won the farthest distance contest. He gave a toast that made me weep. We were surrounded by everyone that knew and loved us.

After the wedding, we set out to walk around the city. Wedding dress and tux. It was so fun seeing everyone's faces and just walking together, married in D-town. The next morning we ordered room service and enjoyed breakfast in our bath robes. It was a very long road and if I had the choice to take it again or take an easier route, I would roll up my sleaves and say, "Bring it on!"

Genesis entry

2008-03-28T09:01:00.000-07:00

As a writer, it only makes sense to have a blog. Not to mention, it's a great way to keep the masses informed on all things Brockman. The name is new, but I am still the same Becky (Benson) that will take a dare, jump on a plane and try weird sounding sushi.
I have grown up in the past three years (since college). Thank goodness. This is the first of many, many entries. Read and enjoy.