Pizza Hut loves me

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . November 20, 2011 . 11:39AM

On Friday night, we were all exhausted. I’d been sick with flu-like symptoms (but not the flu-NOT THE FLU-I got the shot-IT WAS NOT THE FLU) for two days, AJ had run a fever for 24 hours and Leon was coming down with some symptoms as well. I was still pretty coherent, but I was living off of Ramen and Coca-Cola. About 10pm, Leon was in the backyard with the dogs and I was in the kitchen. I thought I heard him knocking on the window. When I walked out to ask him what he needed, he looked at me with a strange face and asked what I was talking about and shrugged.

Well, ok then. I walked to the front door. Generally, if you aren’t expecting someone, a knock on the door at 10pm isn’t a good thing. I warily opened the door and hid behind it while only poking my face out–because, you know, if someone has a gun the first target you want them to see is your face.

“Yes?”

A girl stood in front of me with two small boxes. I looked at her in confusion, then to her red hat and to her car. “Did you happen to place an order for some cinnamon sticks? I’ve misplaced the name, but I’m always over here in this neighborhood delivering something to you guys, so I thought it MUST be the Blueshelled house! When I called my store, they confirmed it was the Blueshelled house!”

As I stood there trying to decide if I should be amused at the situation, offended by the implication that we live on Pizza Hut or happy that we are favored customers. She went on, “Gosh, I have an extra box of these anyway and I’m not going to find their owners in time. We’ll have to give the other people a refund. Would you like a box of these?”

In fairness to the sweet Pizza Hut girl, AJ believes the nice lady at the McDonald’s Drive Thru is our personal chef and that Pizza is a food group. “Well, sure! Thanks!”

So, thank you, Pizza Hut, for our late night snack on Friday night. It was well-appreciated by a family of sick people who longed for some cinnamon stick sweetness. There is something to be said for being a favored customer after all.

Genuine Surprise!

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . August 7, 2010 . 9:26PM

I so love a good surprise. Not the “Oh cripes he just spilled a milkshake in the backseat” kind of surprise. One where I had no idea it was coming and it makes me cry like a little wuss.

Because I’m a girl and a good cry from joy can make me happier than anything. And I’m ok with being a wuss.

When I don’t know that anything is coming to my post office box, I check it less frequently. Honestly, I don’t need Hardees coupons or local flyers. When I opened my box this week, I had a gift. It was a slip of an envelope that had Kurt Halsey’s name on it.

One of my first blogs, in a much different time of my life, was about a custom Kurt Halsey piece that Leon had commissioned for me for Christmas. I love his work and lately had been longing for something that represented where I feel I am now.

I mentioned in my twitter that I was wishing for the postcards of his most recent works. I had no idea what I’d do with them, but I would find something creative. In my mailbox this week were these.

Thank you, mystery gifter. You have no idea what kind of week I’ve had and what they meant. Kurt included a couple of handwritten post its that made me weepy.

And I cried.

Like the little wuss I am.

And I loved it.

Generosity in Children

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . May 22, 2010 . 8:55PM

Often, as adults, it is easy for us to forget how generous in spirit children are when left to their own devises and without the interference of us “well meaning adults.” Our influence upon them can suck the beauty and kindness straight out of those amazing little souls faster than anything I’ve ever seen in my life. Our disapproval, anger, anxiety and upset can shake them to their core and cause them to look upon the world with distrust and unease. It then becomes a place of distraction. A place where everyone is on their own and should take care of themselves instead of looking out for the interest of others. A place where their true goodness is hidden and they lose the innocence and humanity that they seem to have from such a very young age, instinctually.

However, it flickers. Oh, how it flickers. Like a flame just looking for a little encouragement to grow, it flickers and sparks and waits for the opportunity to shine. Unlike many adults, children don’t necessarily need to shine in front of others or with the purpose of recognition, or even allow their flame to grow at all. Sometimes, they just flame away without even thinking about it and move on. Such simple love and kindness.

I’ve seen this happen repeatedly in my life. Often during my time with my son and his friends and during my time in the school system. A few weeks ago, I saw it during a warm evening at the ballpark.

I was standing in line for one of the forty or so gatorades I buy every year at the concession stand when I saw him: the blonde little boy in front of me who was patiently waiting his turn. He couldn’t have been more than 8, at most, and was clutching three dollars. It was a school night and his eyes looked tired and sad. It was approaching 9 and he must have been at one of the early games and stayed for a sibling game.

I saw his eyes scan the menu. Hamburgers, Chicken (our stand serves Chik-fil-a!), hot dogs, french fries, sodas, energy drinks and many various candies. His little blonde head nodded slightly downward as he looked at the canisters in the front of the stand. Air heads, $0.25. Ring pops, $0.75. Tips for good service, please. Condiments. Napkins. Forks.

He looked carefully back to the menu and then to the canisters again and softly said, “French Fries, please.” The boy at the counter said, “Sure, kid. Anything else?” The little boy looked down at the canisters again, looking hard at the ring pops, and I saw him swallow. “No, no thank you.” He handed the concession stand worker his two dollars and waited for his french fries. They came promptly. He smiled, said thank you and deposited his $1 in the tip canister.

Generosity of spirit can be found in the most unexpected places. I am a lucky woman to find it in so many.

And now for something serious…

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . January 22, 2010 . 9:06AM

There are many things in my life that I am passionate about that I don’t take the time to write about here. It isn’t that I don’t care enough, it’s that I understand and am aware that my passions are not the passions of everyone. And I also know that when people are strongly polarized, the reasons of one’s heart are often not enough to sway one another. However, there are times that not saying anything is akin to agreement and I feel like I cannot let this subject be one in which there is any doubt as to how I feel.

Those in my life that know me best know that I’m generally quite apathetic on most issues and due to my profession, I support people as to their decisions. With that said, I am adamantly pro-life for many personal reasons and many well thought out ones. As a humanist, a scientist, a mother, a woman, a friend, a social science major and someone who cares deeply for others…I can be nothing else.

My husband wrote a post today, on the anniversary of Roe v. Wade. I’m linking it here. My personal whys will remain unsaid… Sometimes it is better that way.

In Memoriam

Prom and bad 90s hair

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . November 6, 2009 . 10:57AM

Other events that were important to my life coincided with the break-up with green eyes. One of the miracles of my life happened right before my junior prom in the form of a teeny, tiny preemie. Livvy, my only sibling and 16 years my junior, came into the world with serious struggles. When I finally got to hold her, through an incubator, she fit into the palm of my medium-sized hands. Rarely have I loved a person so much in my life and they were taking her from me. Our small town was not equipped to handle preemies and she would have to go to a larger hospital. It would be her home, and that of my mother and step-father, for many months. I will always be thankful to the Ronald McDonald house for allowing my mother to be with my sister.

Livvy was born three weeks before my junior prom. As such, my mother didn’t have time to go dress hunting with me or even see me before my junior prom. Thankfully, my aunt stepped in and green eyes and I had a fine night. I think. I don’t remember much of it because there was so much emotional turmoil around that time, both with his absence and Livvy’s health.

Livvy eventually came home and green eyes eventually drifted away and a new normal came to me. It wasn’t without much resistence on my part, however. I lost 30 pounds simply because I wasn’t interested in eating. I was depressed and had lost interested in most everything and everyone around me. I was starting to finally feel like myself when I developed what felt like the worst cold ever. My nose started dripping like a faucet and I’d rubbed the thing raw. My best friend, at the time, was a boy we later determined was related to me somehow. He and I went to Wal-mart, where I worked (I have SO many stories about that place) and saw the new guy stocking the shelves. A cute new guy. One I’d only seen in passing while we were zoning the area at night. I’d been lucky enough to help him a couple of times.

I’d never been a forward kind of girl. I’m shy, especially where my looks are concerned and even with the weight loss, I was sure he wasn’t interested in me. Nevertheless, I went up to him with my dripping, peeling nose and started talking to him. He talked back and seemed amused by what I was saying. Eventually we made a date. One date turned into several and we dated on and off, though mainly on, throughout my senior year of high school. He was a few years older than I was and was very different from the guys I went to school with. He introduced me to “No diggity” (which is still one of my favorite songs) and was probably one of, if not THE nicest person I’ve ever dated. He also took me to Olive Garden for the first time in my 17 years.

I don’t know anyone that didn’t like Aaron. He made friends with all of my friends and the people at work adored him. The girls at work really adored him. He kept his eyes on me. I felt adored. His sister and brother felt like my family. I thought a lot of them and still do. I have no idea what my senior year would have been like if his kind spirit hadn’t been a part of my life. My family was dealing with a lot of issues, not just a new baby. He was there for me and I will always appreciate that about him.

He was also my prom date that year. Strangely enough, I remember most everything about that night. I remember sitting in the chair at my salon and watching my stylist place mini-flowers in my hair and wondering if they looked Asian enough. Would Aaron like them? Was it too much? Were my bangs too high? The answer to the bang question was YES, THEY WERE TOO HIGH.

I remember the moment he saw me and the smile he gave me. I remember that his hands are really strong and when he held mine to walk me into the convention center that I couldn’t stop smiling. We sat with our friends and there was much dancing and laughing. When prom was over, we went to a friend’s house and, in my typical party animal fashion, I promptly fell asleep on the couch.

I’m a winner.

Three weeks later, I broke up with him for a guy who truly believed that there is a dark side and he was a jedi knight. I still have a lot of guilt about this and I’m so, so sorry, Aaron. It was among the most stupid decisions I’ve ever made. I’m a firm believe that things turn out the way they should, though, and I’m really glad that we are still friends. You were the best prom date ever.