Rule #30 - Sticky Situation

If you're obsessed with Cupcakes and Cashmere (as I am) and want to recreate these incredible tights she created, it is advisable to take the time to look up the actual directions instead of just winging it. It is also a good idea to assume that fabric glue and Krazy glue may possibly yield different results.

When you are in the midst of a bedazzling frenzy, securing sparkles and gems to the tights you are wearing, you will most assuredly feel a sense of dread creep into your heart when you realize that not only are said diadems securely fastened to your hosiery, but they are also tightly bonded to your skin.

As you remove the tights (once dry), each time you must rip a small jewel from your shin, ankle, knee or calf, you will flinch in pain - followed by irritation - as skin is detached from your leg, and the stones go tumbling off. Frustrated, you will probably decide not to try and remove the glue circles dotting your stems and drift off to sleep instead.

During your morning shower, you will develop temporary amnesia and forget about said sticky dots and attempt to shave your legs. Being the bright bulb you are, when you pass over a patch on your leg that burns, you will run your razor over it again and again wondering what is making it hurt. Do not be surprised, dear friend, to find in all of those areas a torrent of blood trickling down your now-smooth gam. You see, shaving off Krazy glue is an effective removal technique. It doesn't however, remove only the goop, but roughly five layers of epidermis as well.

Delightful.

Do You Hear What I Hear???

Have you heard my dear, sweet, amazing and wonderful friend's news?!




Thank you, Grant. Now the planning can start... you know, officially.

If

Last night I decided it was high time to do a thorough cleaning of my room. I received a fabulous TV for Christmas to perch on my dresser to keep me company while I sew (my roommate will be so thrilled that I'm officially moving Hems & Hers HQ off the kitchen table). As such, I needed to reorganize and reshuffle my furniture, thusly leading to my clean sweep.

During my cleaning I rediscovered a tiny little book I received several years ago in my Yuletide stocking titled "If: What Do I Know of Calvary Love" by Amy Carmichael. This itsy bitsy tome is beyond powerful, and I loved flipping through last night to re-read the snippets and see which ones I'd highlighted during my first reading and thinking back to how they applied to my life then. Funny that entirely different passages spoke to me last night. If you get a chance, please pick up a copy... it is the accountability, encouragement and wisdom I'm constantly needing.

"If when an answer I did not expect comes to a prayer which I believed I truly meant, I shrink back from it; if the burden my Lord asks me to bear be not the burden of my heart's choice, and I fret inwardly and do not welcome His will, then I know nothing of Calvary love."

"If I am afraid to speak the truth, lest I lose affection, or lest the one concerned should say, 'You do not understand,' or because I fear to lose my reputation for kindness; if I put my own good name before the other's highest good, then I know nothing of Calvary love."

"If I hold on to choices of any kind, just because they are my choice; if I give any room to my private likes and dislikes, then I know nothing of Calvary love."

"If by doing some work which the undiscerning consider 'not spiritual work' I can best help others, and I inwardly rebel, thinking it is the spiritual for which I crave, when in truth it is the interesting and exciting, then I know nothing of Calvary love."

Shiny & Bright

With all of the Christmas hustle and bustle, I have completely failed to express what a truly magnificent time I experienced with three lovely bloggers on Tuesday night at On A String in Charlotte. Each of us made a piece of gorgeous jewelry and sincerely enjoyed our time together. I'm still continually amazed at what incredible people this corner of the web has brought into my life!

Today I Feel Like This

Sorry to assault your eyes, but it's just been one of those Mondays. Isn't it funny how Satan chooses to attack your vulnerabilities and insecurities when you are feeling the most powerfully connected to Christ?

This weekend at Elevation I saw hundreds of people moved to extend sacrificial generosity for the work of the Lord and to His mission in Charlotte, across the nation, and ultimately the world. It's so easy to feel small, insubstantial and helpless in aiding "the least of these" in the world, but I was reminded this weekend that every gift can have a huge impact on the lives of others.

Also, I was given the blessing to make a statement about my trust in God by giving my own financial sacrifice to His work. It's so easy for me to say that I trust Him, but to give part of my financial and monetary security away and actually have to trust Him is an entirely different experience.

Today's attack began by shaking my security and, truly, my pride to the core. And while I've been knocked off balance and am still reeling and waiting to feel the inevitable aftereffects, this is an incredible opportunity for me to truly live what I have been professing - that God's will for my life is the one sure thing that I have, and it's the one true thing to which I will cling.

I'm still feeling like one of those pretty pooches, though.

Rule #29 - Friends... No Benefits

If I have never met you, don't know your name, don't call you, BBM or text you and only see you naked sometimes because you refuse to cover yourself at the Y, I certainly do not want to hear about how Jevarius won't pull his lazy @$$ out of the bed to work out. I also don't want to know about how fly your curves are or how bangin' your new dress is. Add to the list that I don't want to know about how your girl LaShondra is back with her baby daddy even though he doesn't pay child support. Especially when your tatas are literally jiggling in my face.

I don't know your name; you don't know mine. Let's just nod cordially and exchange the occasional smile like the strangers we are. Thanks.

A Few of My Favorite Things

I may be biased, but I'm adoring these new accessories that SuZeeBee has been creating! A natural transition from her fabric belts, these oversized buckles (I've been spying much more expensive versions all over the pages of my 'zines) have been finding their way into many of my outfits. Interchangeable and darling, I hope you'll consider jazzing up your holiday ensembles with these fun doo-dads (great all year long).

Santa's Got a Brand New Bag

And Miss Sadie has a brand new (her first ever garment) Mrs. Claus coat. Pink is most certainly her color. Although, looking so pretty all the time clearly drains her.

Queen City Connections (aka The Meet Up)

Blogging from a computer in Charlotte? Social network from a computer geographically close by? Fantastic! Get your pretty little faces out from behind the screen and come to the Charlotte blogger meet and greet hosted by yours truly, The Company She Keeps, Olive My Life! and Duncan Dialogues.

The need-to-knows? This festive affair is happening on Tuesday, December 22 in the CLT. For details and to be part of this amazing event, leave a comment or email me at polkadotsandproteinbars {at} gmail {dot} c-izz-om. Can't wait to finally meet all you lovely, local ladies!

Jingle, Jingle, Ho, Ho, Ho

I would say that this year's Christmas party was a resounding success. We had enough food to feed a thousand and beer, wine, champagne and punch flowing freely. Unfortunately, my camera died after one picture. Here are a few snapshots I stole from everyone else!

Hair Did

Tonight my sweet roommate and I are throwing a Christmas party, and to say I'm excited would be an understatement.

Currently my hair is in an adjustment period... growing out from a stacked bob, but not really long yet, so my options for styles feel limited. As a result, I think the best choice would be to dig out my Topsy Tail and convert my tresses into these festive favorites.

The Search Is On

I don't access my Google Analytics very frequently, so I was a bit dismayed when I logged on today to see that my readership is down 9.14%. Dear, dear, I know that my writing has been a bit more infrequent and a smidge less entertaining than usual, but that's a bit drastic. What is that you, oh beloved readers would like to read about?

One of my favorite things to review on my G'Analytics is a list of search terms that led people to this humble blog. It is encouraging to know that although the visits here have dropped, people are still finding creative ways to read about Polka Dots & Protein Bars. The last time I did a search term recap, I had many, many compression hose enthusiasts, let's review a few of the new gems, shall we?

The Top Ten:
1. How to Make Yourself Limp Without Faking It - Umm, okay, sadist. Have you ever seen Misery? You could always do the block between the legs and a hammer trick a la Kathy Bates. Or you could fake it, like so.
2. Filet O Fish Donkey Lips - Not so sure about the sandwich, but Donkey Lips was clearly the best character on Salute Your Shorts.
3. Mushrooms with Stripes or Polka Dots - Those aren't the kind of mushrooms that I encourage cooking with.
4. Reappearing Bleeding Dots on Leg - That is creepy, and instead of reading my blog, you should dial 9-1-1.
5. Big Booty Extravagance - If that's what you're looking for, then let me assure you that you've come to the right place.
6. Appendicitis Wearing High Heels - That's the pits, really, but at least you're looking super stylish. The same can't be said for Lobster when hers ruptured.
7. "Clarissa Explains It All" House Kitchen Stairs - I love me some Clarissa, and the Darling household was where it was all happening. If you find the kitchen stairs, you just let me know.
8. Bimbo Protein Bars - I haven't tried that brand. Is it a favorite of Lohan or Paris? Do they have Bimbo Jr. for Miley to taste?
9. Does Protein Give You a Booty - Just looked in the mirror. Survey says... yes! All the better to highlight in my new tights!
10. Funny Blogs on Wearing Bad Undergarments - To be honest, there is no such thing as a good undergarment.

Honorable Mention:
11. Peep Toe Pumps & Protein Bars - Hey, Peeptoe Pumps & Pearls... let's join forces... we already have the name!
12. Cankle Surgery on Bones - What? Liposuction on the ankles didn't cure it?
13. Gag Reflex Acupuncture
14. Knock Knock Jokes Graduation
15. Ways to Unsend a Text - Tried it. Doesn't work. It blows.
16. "Brother 4 Sale" Tee Shirt - Love me some MK&A!
17. Visible Thong Lines + Blogspot - Isn't the beauty of thongs a lack of VPL?
18. A Scary Note to My Sister - Dear Sis... BOOO!!!!!!... Love, Your Sis. There. Happy now?
19. Baby's First Hockey Stick - Followed shortly thereafter by Baby's First Concussion.
20. Best Protein Bar for Leaning - I like my protein bars to improve my posture, but whatevs.
21. Manic Trout - I'm just not even really sure what to say about this.
22. Goose Bleeding Internally - Did you aim the stiletto directly at its belly? That will speed the process.
23. Man Boob Under Garments - Sports bras aren't cutting it for you anymore, big guy?
24. MTV True Life I Have Tourettes Grandma You're Being Careless - Only the most incredible piece of television history ever.
25. Mummified vs. Petrified - One, you're dead. The other, you aren't. Problem solved.
26. Pink Princess Mummification - Is this a Tim Burton spin on Pretty Pretty Princess? If so, I don't want to play.
27. Pregnant Girls in Thongs - You're either a perv, or you should direct questions about appropriate maternity underwear to your physician.
28. Protein to Make Shabby Face - You know, I just don't really look for my protein bars to do this.
29. The Trick Where You Have a Card With Dots and the Dots Disappear and Reappear - Ummmm, right. Did you actually type all of that in with the hope of finding what you were looking for? Because you found me. And I'm probably not it.
30. Tie Me Up Stories - Are you planning the perfect kidnapping scenario or a romantic night with your love? Either way, sorry to disappoint.

Rule #28 - Sitting Pretty

It is not at all advisable to practice wall sits in the handicap stall of your office's tile-floored bathroom while wearing heels. Not only is the floor slippery, but your heels will also provide you very little traction. Once you start to topple, there's no chance of recovering until you land, appendages splayed in all directions. Sticking to squats is a better bet.

Rule #27 - Bulky

When you aim to buy in bulk at, say, Costco, it is advisable to bring with you a mode of transportation capable of and appropriate for transporting your purchases. Trying to stack multitudes of olive oil, produce, cheesecake and fine winery on the back of your souped-up Moped will most assuredly be a disaster, sir.

Bowled Over & More

I'm getting awfully tired of logging on to PD&PB and seeing that big ole American Apparel bottom staring me in the face. It's time to update with something new... and today that means lots of snapshots!

Last week was exhausting, as have previous weeks been, but I managed to carve out some time for fun that included a Switchfoot concert and a little trip to the bowling alley (I was humiliated, embarrassed, and worst of all... beaten by Lobster... I never lose. Especially to her... ESPECIALLY in Mall Madness. Yes, we still play. Or did, until she kept losing and started refusing my invitations to battle).

What Your Wardrobe's Been Missing

It's no secret that I adore tights. My drawers (no pun intended) are stuffed full of turquoise, fuschia, eggplant, lace, fishnet, polka dotted and more. I had a lovely lunch date earlier with the glorious Swanky Peach and planned to take a quick trip to American Apparel, which happened to be right next door.

I have to admit that American Apparel really freaks me out. I just don't understand it. I think most of their clothes are odd, but I'm determined to find a gem there - the perfect white tee, some incredible leggings, one of those dresses that can be worn 27 ways (although I explained to Swanky Peach that that concept stresses me out because I will feel obligated to get use out of all 27 ways, even if several are beyond fugtrocious and heinous... it's too much pressure for me).

Before our date I decided to peruse the Web site in order to strategically locate some potential treasures. My first click was on the hosiery section, assuming that would be a safe and fun locale. Unfortunately, not. Hosiery was my first and only stop. Why, you ask?

These:

Please, in the name of all that's good and right in the world explain to me why you need cheekless tights. I mean, they aren't even technically bottomless... you still have a string there. Who, pray tell, who decided that we as women were yearning for a way to feel the breeze on our behinds while keeping our legs toasty?

I wish I had more words. I'm speechless. This is one stocking I won't be looking for come Christmas day.

Pupdate

Thank you all for your sweet comments about Sadie May. I am pleased to report that she's doing perfectly well. Her mama on the other hand, has been the struggling.

Life is pulling me in about 32 different directions right now, and it's all I can do to keep my head screwed on. Between work, church commitments (my heart's passion), Hems & Hers (my creative outlet and joy), friends, family, writing, new additions to my life and more, I'm just getting a smidge overwhelmed. As someone who really, really needs eight hours of sleep a night to fully function, the 4-5 hours I've been pulling for the last few months are finally starting to weigh on me. Something's got to give, although the perfectionist control freak is fighting with all my might to keep it all. Ideally I'd love to put more time into H&H and really see it become something. The potential's there but my time isn't. If any of you fabulously talented ladies have tips or advice for me, I would love, love, love to hear it.

Well this was a much whinier and depressing post than I intended it to be, so I'll sign off with the news that all I need for Christmas is Amy Grant and the Hanson version of "Christmas Means to Me." Seriously. On repeat. Like a thousand times a day.

Something's Fishy

Here's some fun math on a rainy Wednesday.

What do you get when 1 cocker spaniel pup ingests 30,000 milligrams of fish oil?

Wellllllll, about 37 panicked tears, 3 calls to emergency vets, poison control, and your mom, force feeding 2 tablespoons of vomit-inducing hydrogen peroxide, 10 minutes of nervous, anxious waiting, 4 throwing up "episodes," 82 high-pitched, "SADIE?!" cries to insure that the pooch is still alive, and zero hours of sleep.

It's going to be a good, solid day.

This Is Why I'm Thankful

Sovereignty

I become increasingly convinced and supremely reassured as time goes on that God knows exactly what He's doing with my life and exactly when and how to allow things to take place. I am so humbled and grateful for a mighty Lord who reigns steadfastly over me.

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord. 'Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future.'" - Jeremiah 29:11

"Special" Drivers

All I'm saying is that just because you have a blue wheel chaired handicap tag hanging from your rear view mirror that allows you special parking privileges, you do not have free rein to drive like a flipping moron through the streets of Charlotte.

Just sayin'. Or honkin'. Or cursin'.

Squanto... So Hot Right Now...

Around this time in Knoxville, TN second graders citywide are beginning to read about the chronicles of Squanto (or Tisquantum, if we're being accurate). Squanto really did little to further the Western world other than aiding the Pilgrims in surviving their first winter and teaching them to colonizing.

As a young, naive second grader myself, I was mesmerized by Squanto's life. In his biography we learned about how Squanto feasted on corn meal to survive the cold winters. To teach us more about what this kind of existence meant, my teacher Mrs. Brown decided to bring cornmeal for us to munch on as we read one morning.

Naturally my fellow students spit and spat and ranted and raved at being forced to taste such a chalky and unfulfilling substance. Of course, being the ultimate people pleaser/brown-noser/teacher's pet, I was delighted to demonstrate my ability to fake fondness over anything. As such, I devoured my own serving of cornmeal as well as helped myself to the many leftovers around me. Before we had finished chapter six, yours truly had consumed no less than a pound of the dried corn granules.

Needless to say, my stomach struggled to process the equivalent of a bushel and a peck (with no hug around the neck) of cornbread muffins. Not a Thanksgiving goes by now that I don't thank Squanto for his mighty contribution to American civilization and my own digestive fortitude.

True Story Tuesday: The Sun, I Swear, Is Bleaching Out My Gorgeous Hair

Yesterday I was talking to Queen Bee Swain about her luscious locks. She confessed to me that she still uses Sun-In (I know, I know, I'm trying to avoid the passing of judgment too). When she asked what I used to touch up my own strands I explained to her my almost-unconditional love for Clairol Frost 'N Tip. In the spirit of being honest, though, I also had to explain why sometimes I'm less than thrilled with it.

You see, readers, I have an absurdly large noggin. The poor thing is ginorm. Unfortunately, Frost 'N Tip employs the use of a cap through which to pull your locks. The chapeau is "one size fits all," in name, but not in reality. Each highlighting session becomes a battle between myself and the cap. If it isn't popping off, it's ripping or stretching, and all around not fitting. In fact, as it so happens, one times while struggling to secure the cap in place, I tied it tightly under my chin to insure a proper fit. After pulling the hair through the necessary holes, Little applied the peroxide mix. Suddenly I started feeling a smidge woozy and promptly passed out.

What we'll do for the price of beauty! Perhaps Queen Bee has the answer. I may just need to shift from my blackout-inducing 'do dye to something a bit more 7th grade and questionable.

No Time Like the Present

I love giving people presents. Love it. A lot. A ton. Bushels. One of my favorite things in the world is finding that perfect gift to give someone. I spent three months dyyying over the fact that I had found every episode of Pete & Pete on tape to give to my brother for Christmas. Last year I had my mom's SuZeeBee business cards redesigned, and I was jumping out of my skin for her to open it.

One of my favorite gifts I have ever bestowed upon a loved one, though, happened to be received by my sweet crustacean pal, Lobster. Generally our gifts are seafood-themed, but in my heart, I knew one gift that would complete her life. A Tamagotchi. Do you ladies remember these fun toys? If not, I will refresh your memory. According to experts:

"Tamagotchi is a tiny pet from cyberspace who needs your love to survive and grow. If you take good care of your Tamagotchi pet, it will slowly grow bigger, healthier, and more beautiful every day. Bit if you neglect your little cyber creature, your Tamagotchi may grow up to be mean or ugly. How old will your Tamagotchi be when it returns to its home planet? What kind of virtual caretaker will you be?"

Not convinced about them? Tamagotchi are straight up, amazing. They fit on your keychain and alert you to all of their needs... when they need to eat, defecate, play and cuddle. I was thrilled to present this slice of Japanese heaven to my Lobsterita for her 21st birthday. Needless to say, her exuberance was as full of zeal as mine.

But only for a short while. As it happens, Tamagotchi are needy and high maintenance. While my darling Lobs napped, Tamagotchi chirped. It needed food. It needed love. It needed play time. And while she is many things, Lobster is not patient when it's naptime. Unequipped with a silence button, the 'gotchi was incessant. In sheer frustration, the Pinching One threw it against a nearby wall in one last attempt to find slumber. She was successful as the Tamagotchi died a slow, miserable, digital death.

So perhaps my gift was unsuccessful, but it's the thought that counts, correct?

Lowering Expectations Everywhere

My best friends in the world are the ones that I only see at the gym. They see me when I'm make up free, wearing gross clothes and sweating like a man. We chat, we converse (sometimes they share their wigs), we share tips... everything is wonderful.

However, nothing on this earth beats running into one of those exercise buds at the grocery store on a normal day, because no matter what you have on, they will fawn and gush over how pretty you look. Because you see, when people see me working out, they see me at my ultimate lowest level of attractiveness, and anything else is an improvement.

I discovered this phenomenon to be the case waaay back in high school. Unlike many of the other girls who spent the week before prom primping and getting beautified, I slummed it. Understand, that I never, ever, ever dressed down for school (I was that kid who dressed up on exam days). I wore a ponytail every single day leading up to the event, jeans, nastiness... then on the day of the actual prom, my pretty-quotient was upped extraordinarily thanks to what my peers had to compare it to for the week leading up to the big day.

A lot of trouble to go to? Maybe, but strategy is half the battle, my friends, and that part I have nailed down tight.

Don't forget to submit questions for my sister to answer! Questions like, "Is your sister the most amazing person on the planet?" or "How in the world do you live with someone so perfect?" are perfectably acceptable.

Flesh & Blood

This bliggity blog is going through some changes. While I try to determine some direction, let's play a fun game of "Assssk Myyyy Sissss" (that was supposed to be my really good game show host voice). Over the next 48 hours you'll have the opportunity to ask my sweet little sister anything your heart desires - about her, about me, about my precious pup... whatever! She'll answer them (and buy me some time). Sounds like fun to me! And I hope it does to her too, since I didn't tell her we were playing. All right, start asking!

True Confession Tuesday

I've gotten really, really good at painting my nails at my desk and not getting caught. Doing so then requires at least 10 minutes of doing nothing so they can dry properly. I would very much like to feel guilty about this time waste, but alas, I don't.

What do you do at work that you know you shouldn't?

Fun Fact Friday

I fell off the True Story Tuesday train about three months ago, so to make up for it, I'd thought I'd share with you this fun little Polka Dots & Protein Bars trivia.

Growing up, Sis, Brother and I were avid fans of all things NERF. We had rifles, darts, cannons, and my personal favorite, the crossbow. We routinely engaged each other in all out NERF wars and American Gladiator-style blitzes.

It wasn't long until I became a master archer of all arrows foam and yellow. As such, I decided that I should try and hone this enviable craft into a life skill. My opportunity came my final semester of college. I still needed one more PE credit, and my eyes lit up when I discovered that I could take archery. I had lofty dreams of Robin Hood-sized proportions. I believed wholeheartedly that my divine talent on the NERF bow would easily propel me to prodigy status.

Unfortunately, my dreams of grandeur were crushed before they fully had a chance to blossom. To call me a bad archer would be an understatement. Abysmal would be more accurate. I could not shoot a straight arrow to save my life. Over the target, under the target, short of the target... anywhere but where it should have flown. My "professor" encouraged me to switch from being letter graded to pass/fail. I had to eat a whopping amount of pride (and broken dreams), but I made the change.

Despite my best efforts I never really improved. For our final class, we had a mock deer hunt. An avid bow hunter himself, our instructor brought in homemade deer sausage and jerky and each time we hit one of the deer targets we got to go eat some of it (surprisingly good, Bambi). Of course, as expected, I got nowhere close. Taking pity on me, he changed the rules to be whenever you took a shot you could come eat.

I have accepted the fact that I may never be a true bow hunter, but that doesn't mean the NERF crossbow has been put to rest. So if ever you're in my neighborhood, beware of the high-flying yellow arrows.

A Note From My Sister

Little Sister has agreed to contribute to this little blog with a post that is all her own... sarcastic, hilarious and witty. Inspired by the upcoming holiday season and the plight of blended families all across the country, Sis articulates in her ever-so-dry way that awkward family situations aren't strictly limited to step-parent interactions.

Without further ado, please enjoy my sister's spin on step-grandparents.

After waking up from a dream Monday night in which I was Cinderella (I was a Disney princess, naturally), I was reminded of the "special" dynamic in our family that has been created due to the addition of step-grandparents. Although, we are extremely blessed that Little Mama and Daddy have been happily married for 28 years, our grandparents divorced when I was 2. Several years later, Grandmother found a new husband for my precious Daddy to call his old man (just kidding about this part), we'll refer to him as Mr. Dyke (yes, I'm serious) and Papaw found a new squeeze as well, June (affectionately known in our household as June Bug).

After Grandmother formally became a Dyke (a favorite joke between me and Big Sis)... without sending us a wedding invitation, I'll have you know (can you say shotgun wedding?), the first tricky step-grandparent hurdle we tried to get over was how to address our new step-grandfather, seeing as no one felt comfortable calling him Papa, Papaw, Pops, etc. Although Grandmother insisted we call him by his first name, my dear, sweet Big Sis began to call him Mr. Dyke. As for June Bug, it was never really decided what to call her to her face. Since she entered the family, we don't really address her by name at all. In fact, my favorite little June Bug has never even visited our house with Papaw. While this is probably due to the fact that she doesn't want to lug her oxygen tank (cough, cough.. emphysema) over the mountains from Tennessee, it is by no means a reflection of how much she wants to "get to know" us. In fact, while Big Sis and I were in Knoxville for the UT/UGA game staying with Juniper and "her man"--yes, she referred to my Papaw as "her man"-- she made it very clear to us that she wanted to get closer with "the girls" and that we were welcome to stay any time. Yes, that is very nice of you, thanks. But no, I am not going to come visit Papaw and paint nails and have pillow talk with you, step-grandmother.

In contrast, step-grandfather Mr. Dyke has more than made it known that he will always like the Dyke children and grandchildren better than my precious family. In fact, when it came time for my wonderful Sis to graduate from college, Grandmother and Mr. Step-Grandfather made the trip to come. What an inconvenience it must have been for Mr. Dyke, because at the post-graduation lunch, he told my Sis that he had been to several graduations already and was frankly too tired from them to want to be there. I'm sorry, what?! It is perfectly feasible that this could've been one of his many...attempted jokes. However, it seems to me that trying to balance a "blended family" beginning in your 70's is just too tough a task for those too faint of heart.

Frankly, I'm still anxiously awaiting the day when I can meet my new step-aunts, uncles, and cousins, and I know Daddy can't wait to play ball on the holidays with his new step-siblings...

By Request

Sweet Sis got onto me this afternoon about my recent lack of posting. She's completely right, and I've been giving myself a brain drain trying to decide what could be considered worthwhile enough to send out to the Internet masses. Unfortunately I still have absolutely nothin'. Clearly my life is in a bit of transition right now, and trying to figure out where the pieces will fall is admittedly unnerving for a control freak perfectionist such as myself.

I spent a significant amount of time in Madame P's office yesterday afternoon deciding what my career path might look like, and coming to the realization that perhaps my future isn't with my current company. We discussed the fact that I'm not feeling passionate about or connected to what I do anymore (and as such have completely detached myself), and that I'm feeling a yearning for a more purposeful career. I know how I would like for that to manifest itself, and so does Madame P; however, I'm being humbled and broken once again as the Lord reminds me that His timing is sovereign and by trying to create plans on my own and force opportunities, I am essentially telling God that I don't trust Him. Jeremiah 29:11 is my life verse for a reason, my friends. I am so blessed beyond anything I deserve.

In another PD&PB news, not everything is heavy and sullen in my life. In fact, I spent a lovely lunch hour sweating alongside a very large woman who insisted on working out in a t-shirt, her underwear and a shower cap (we were on cardio machines in the women's locker room, so I guess she had some justification... maybe?!). She was very intimidating, and I would have gotten a picture had I not been afraid that she would break me if she saw.

I'm Lovin' It!

What do you all think of the new blog look??? I am absolutely beyond thrilled with it. I have to give major props, thanks and kudos to the extremely sweet Ashley from Great Grabbie Designs. She designed my original header, which I loved, but was more than happy to hear my ideas for a new look. Ashley is a dream to work with and completely read my mind. So tell me, are you loving the newly improved Polka Dots & Protein Bars as much as I am?

Leave Here With a Smile

"God, help me move forward at the speed of your direction and intention, no matter how painful the transition may be." - Steven Furtick.

This prayer is so powerful, particularly right now as I'm trying to wrap my head around my recent breakup with B. After three and a half years, our relationship is over, and while it hurts to let go of something that has meant so much to me, I can walk away joyful knowing that I'm a better person because of what we shared and knowing that God has different and better plans for both of us than anything that we've known to this point.

The Lord used the time we shared to teach me about myself and about other people and relationships. It is so comforting and exciting to know that He will use those things to propel me forward relationally and in ministry. No relationship (romantic or otherwise) is a waste of time, and I certainly know that while this one has ended differently than I may have imagined at one point, I know that each moment we spent together was valuable and purposeful.

This simple but deep and meaningful prayer will always be on my lips and in my heart.

A (Big) Apple a Day...

Were you just dying for some more snapshots from the big city? Oh, I know you were. Here we go, lovelies...

I think this muffin changed my life. And may be what I miss the most.

Telling everyone how excited I was to take a bite. Or something.
Friends don't take candid pictures of friends waiting for the subway.
On the subway to Little Italy for a divinely delicious meal.
You know what doesn't mix? Italian food, messy eaters, and cream colored frocks.
Crumbs cupcakes. Looks like someone tried to sneak a bite pre-photo.
I was impatient and wanted the picture snapped so I could dig in. Yummmm.