Not so gold strike

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

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!

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

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

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

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

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...

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.