Saturday, March 31, 2007

Riddle Me This

The following is a conversation with my brother today on the phone:

Fancy: Mom and Dad can't fault me for wanting to move away from them.

Baca: Whadoyou mean?

Fancy: Well, think about it. Of all of Mom's 9 syblings, she's one of the few that moved away from her parents. She was the odd goose of the family.

Baca: The odd goose? (pause, chuckle, pause, laugh) You mean.....(laugh, laugh, laugh)

There's the riddle for you, friends. Care to try and solve? (Baca and Seth, you have to wait.)

Friday, March 30, 2007


Sometimes you stop whatever you are doing to speed to Chili's to devour one of these. CHOCOLATE MOLTON, I love you.

Wednesday, March 28, 2007


I saw Carol today. As we stood talking in the park, a little boy, maybe 3 or 4 years old, ran as fast as he could down the sidewalk to where we were standing, and before I knew it, he had his arms around Carol in the biggest little boy hug he could manage. No words, just a hug. Carol knew his name. She hugged him back. Then he ran off to play. His name was Anthony.

Anthony wasn’t scared of Carol.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Dancing with Barbs and Billy Ray

For those of you who watch Dancing with the Stars, tell me your picks here. If you don't watch Dancing with the Stars, you're missing out. I wish I were a star just so I could be on this show. Seth watched the second half with me last night, and by the end of the show, I had him agreeing to take ballroom dancing lessons with me. Yesssss.

So here's my take on all of it.

Apollo (2 time Olympic speed skating gold medalist): The male with the most potential. You need better frame, tighten it up on top, and start selling it. This week you looked like you were thinking too hard. I hope you make it far in the competition.

Shandi (Miss USA 2004): Shandi and her partner have already been nicknamed, Barbi and Ken. Sorry, Barbs, but your fake plastic smile doesn't win you points in dancing. Take it back to the pageants. You're awkard, too tall, and if you and your partner could put a cap on the disgusting flirting between the two of you in the dance studio, maybe you'd actually learn something. But...see ya. I'm voting you out, Barbs.

Clyde (NBA Hall of Famer): Clyde towers over his partner with his impressive basketball physique. If only that physiche would fix that frame. Get that butt in and under you. You look like an oaf. A bit cumbersome, galloping around the dance floor, but I really like your spirit and your approach. I think you'll improve.

Leeza (talk show host), Paulina (supermodel), John (actor): Not sure about you guys yet.

Ian (90210 actor!): I like you just because you remind me of my college days watching 90210 with my roommates. Good times.

Heather (the cripple): Heather has an artificial bottom half to one of her legs. BUT WOW! She won me over last night. The girl was doing back flips over her partner in the mambo. Very impressive and entertaining. I admit, I thought you were ABC's viewer bait for this season and thought you wouldn't last. But I'm wrong. You got skills, girl. It doesn't hurt you have an outstanding partner. He's making you look good with the choreography, giving you what you can do and look good doing. He has to be offering you major physical support in your partnering stance for your balance to look so great.

Billy Ray (Achy Breaky guy): Another surprise of the evening! Wow! I loved this! First of all, you danced to Johnny Cash Ring of Fire. A personal favorite and perfect for the Quickstep. At first I thought you were a slob and a mistake, but no way! I was impressed by your frame and footwork, and how much you improved from last week. Looking forward to more.

Laila (undefeated world boxing champion/daughter to Muhammed): MY FAVORITE for the evening. YEAH!!! This chic can dance. She moved her ass around that floor on the mambo like a mad woman. But last week she wowed judges with her skills in the more sophisticated Foxtrot. Such grace, beauty, and strength. Her size doesn't bother me at all. She obviously is much bigger than the normal size for a dancer. But it doesn't hold her back. Great partnering. Incredibly entertaining. I'm rooting for you, Laila.

So do you watch the show? Anybody? Favorites?

Sunday, March 25, 2007

The Best Bridal Shower Ever

Today I attended the best bridal shower ever. My sound engineer friend, Elise, is getting married in 3 weeks. Her sister, Rachel, threw her the best shower I've ever experienced.

Now, I've been to alot of showers in my lifetime. The last two years of my Baylor college experience were FILLED with showers practically every other weekend. Baylor girls like to marry off the last year or so of their collegiate education. I had my fill of those showers before I ever got one of my own. Now, I had some outstanding showers because I have some outstanding friends. But THIS one rocked my world. And I'm not really the type that gets all excited about this stuff.

First of all, the whole shower was themed "Under the Sea" because Elise has been planning for 6 months to build her salt water aquarium. She has the giant tank but nothing to go in it. So Rachel's idea was for us to all bring money to chip in. When I arrived, there was a "sunken treasure chest" where donations were mixed in with fake chocolate gold coins. Rachel made a "huge ass card" (Rachel's description) that we all signed. It had been decorated with fish and sea horses and crabs and lobsters. And they were all talking to each other about Elise's wedding. "Hey, did you hear...Elise is getting married!" "Well no, I hadn't, who's the lucky fellow?" And so on and so forth.

Secondly, Rachel not only made homemade scones to go with my yummy hazelnut flavored coffee, she also whipped up 3 delicious quiches from scratch, as well a spectacular artichoke dip with chips, AS WELL as the cake, which was shaped like a fish. Rachel iced the cake herself in an amazing fish design, and informed us all that there were "fish guts" inside. Sure enough, upon cutting the cake, we found we were eating Red Velvet cake, red symbolizing the fish guts, of course.

Third, we played the greatest shower games of all time. And I usually hate shower games because they're awkward and dumb. However, today we made a wedding dress for Elise out of toilet paper. I especially designed the train of the dress and was privaledged to carry the train while pretending to blow my trumpet to the tune of "Here Comes the Bride" as we all marched outside to the pinata. Decked out in her T.P. dress, blindfolded by the remaining toilet paper, Elise smashed the fish shaped pinata open in the front yard of a Katy, TX house, scattering flavored condems all over the front yard. (Yeah, the moms were lovin' it.)

THEN! We broke into two teams and played Charades (all phrases relating to the sea, of course), a game at which I RULE. I proved my genius Charades skills by leading my team into the Tie Breaker in which I acted out the phrase "I Wish I Was a Catfish" with such speed, clarity, and dashing pantomime that my team guessed in under 1 minute.

I had to leave early to make it to Shaun Groves' concert at my church. I was having so much fun at Charades that we were late and Shaun stopped the song he was singing to point out our late arrival. "Seth, did you just come late to my concert? And I bet that was Amber's fault, wasn't it?"

I'm sorry, Shaun. It's just that I was at the Best Bridal Shower Ever.

Friday, March 23, 2007


Yesterday I took a walk in the park behind our apartment. It's a nifty little park, little being the operative word. But it suits us nicely. A trail that circles around a playground offset by some benches, a couple trees, and a grassy knoll. It's been my sanity these past few months because currently, I have no job. There are many reasons why I have no job, but none are sad reasons and all are self inflicted reasons. I didn't get fired or anything. We came back from tour and I'm asking, what now?

Having nothing to do during the day but clean my apartment doesn't suit me and I get depressed easily. There are too many walls and too many thoughts in my head. If I have no errands to run then I take a walk. Most of my thoughts that lead to my walks have to do with God's will and if I'm in it. Or what it will be three months from now.

On my walks I have been seeing the same woman in my park that must live in the apartment building next to me. She comes out with her extremely old dog and sometimes it's the dog and her bright green parrot. Yes, a parrot on her shoulder. And sometimes there are kids around her that want to hear the bright green parrot talk, but mostly, she's alone, with her dog. Her name is Carol.

I didn't know her name for a while because I didn't want to stop to talk with her. Carol makes me uncomfortable. Mostly because she wants so much to talk to me. That makes me very uncomfortable. Carol has small yellowish brown teeth that are fixed crookedly inside her mouth, with great big eyes that stare. Carol is always wearing the same gray T-shirt that hangs over her short, worn, lumpy body. And she always says the same thing, for no apparent reason because Carol is not my friend. She says how March 30 will be the year annniversary of her husband's death. Her husband's name is Tim.

That brings us to yesterday. I was walking on the trail around the park and noticed Carol sitting alone on a bench while her old dog rolled in the grass. I had a choice. I stopped my walk and my thoughts to talk to her, or I ignored her. I chose the better of the two options, and that's when I found out her name was Carol. And that she also has three evil sisters that she says steals her money. That she can't work because she collects disability for a mental illness that involves anxiety. That her house with the memories of Tim sold recently at less than market value. And that when she used to work for a bank the security guard at the bank attacked her, and that's what caused her mental illness. I know more about Carol than I know about most of my friends, because Carol is lonely.

That's when she asked what I did for a living, and I told her that my husband and I were musicians. Do we have a CD, she asked. Well yeah we do, I said. Actually, you know I have one in my car. Let me just give it to you. She said that no, she really wanted to pay for it. I argued. She persisted. I said OK, ten bucks. I got the CD, she got her money. We met back at the bench. I gave her the CD, she gave me her money. I looked at the bill in my hand and as I did...thought Carol was the best thing that had happened to me all day. Instead of a ten dollar bill, the bill that sat in my hand said $1. I smiled at Carol, said thank you, and folded the bill in the palm of my hand.

I think that maybe one reason I don't have a job right now is to talk to Carol. I think that God's will for my life is to talk to Carol. And that maybe if I can't work and talk to Carol at the same time, I shouldn't be working.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

The Adventures of Fancy Pants

Now I don't know much about computer games, much less know that I WAS IN ONE!!! Careful, or you'll kill me.

You must play this game. This is freakin' rad. Caught myself playing it forever. Everything's an adventure with Fancy Pants! Who knew?

Add myspace games at GameDip

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

People, Do Your Jobs....Well

During the past few years I have developed a terrible fear, and that is the fear of flying.

Now I love to fly. I do. I've dreamt of flying since I was a little girl. I love to be up high. I even love the snow ski chair lifts at their detrimental heights with only a bar in between you and the free fall down to certain death. I love parasailing. I love rock climbing. I love repelling. I've never bungee jumped but I want to someday. Not so sure about parachuting from a plane, but you get my drift.

I've been flying since I was tiny. I remember being on a very crowded plane when I was about 5 years old, maybe 6. It was storming that night and for some reason I had to sit across the aisle from my mom, next to this tall, burly type wearing a cowboy hat. We were in the back of the plane, and I had an aisle seat, so I could see all the way up the aisle. A man with the shiniest bald head I had ever seen was sitting half way towards the front, in an aisle seat on the other side. I watched him call the flight attendant over and order a glass of water. And then, it being a very bumpy ride due to the storm, as the flight attendant handed him the glass of water, the plane made a sharp dip down at an incredible rate. The man's water, which was at this time being transferred from the flight attendant's tray into his hands, leaped up and SPLAT, right on the top of his shiny head. He chuckled as the water dripped down his very red face. I lost it from the back of the plane and started laughing so loud that the whole plane, including the bald man and my new cowboy friend, started laughing at me.

So, see, I didn't use to be afraid. I was laughing it up in the middle of a huge storm. Why now? Why do I find myself gripping the seat as we take off, praying....Oh Lord, Oh Lord, Oh Lord, Oh Lord....over and over again. White knuckles. Eyes forward. Imagination going wild. Recalling the first episode of Lost when the plane suddenly RIPS in half and people are flying OUT INTO OPEN AIR. I imagine the breathing masks popping down from above, me reaching for the mask, gasping for air. I imagine the ground getting closer and closer, faster and faster. I imagine trying to call my husband as the plane is spiraling out of control to say my last good bye. I kid you not. Almost every time I fly now.

And this is why. I now know that every thing that operates correctly on this earth does so because people are doing their jobs. Excluding what only God can control, obviously. But everything that man has put into motion works well only when people are doing their jobs well. And what I've learned since entering the workplace is that people do not always do their jobs well. Therefore, why should I trust that pilot? I wasn't smart enough to know this as a little girl. But NOW, I'm intelligent enough to know that this guy could screw up. Sure, you can tell me that it's all computers, these planes nowadays. But that doesn't make it any better. Look what happened to the stock market a couple of weeks ago. And you could say like my percentage-speaking dad that "statistically considered, you are safer on a plane than in a car. There are more wrecks in cars than in planes." Well sure, but you don't automatically die if you're in a car wreck. Plus, there are millions of more cars than planes so statistically speaking, of course that's true.

I'm sorry, but this is just the truth. The moral of the story: Let's all make sure we do our jobs well.

Sunday, March 18, 2007


You haven't met the perfect dog until you've met mine. His name is Cromwell. He's a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel, and he doesn't actually live with me. He still lives with the folks. I'm OK with that, because at this point in my life, that's one reason why I can call him the perfect dog. I can see him when I'm back home, play with him, walk him, pet him, love on him, but I have no responsibility concerning him. I'm OK with that.

He's developed several nicknames over the years: Cromatron (my personal favorite, named by my friend Jerod), Crommy, Croms, Crommers. He doesn't respond to any of them, though. Ole' 9-years-old Crommers is going a bit deaf. Or at least we think so. It's either that, or he's figured out that if he doesn't respond to his name...ever...then we'll assume he's going deaf, and he's off the hook for everything. But being 9 means nothing to Cromwell. He still acts like a puppy, floppy eared and excited about every bit of attention you give him.

His favorite past time is finding lights and shadows on the wall and going after them. He talks in his sleep when he dreams. He's scared of thunder and lightning. In this picture, he's probably scared of that little red light on the camera. When we take him to the dog park and let him off his leash, he starts playing with the other people, not the other dogs. He wants only to be in your lap, licking you and leaning on you. (I could do with less of the licking, but...oh well) Every year at Christmas he gets to unwrap his own present, and every year he succeeds.He's Cromatron, the greatest dog on earth, and I love him.

Friday, March 16, 2007

Confessions of a Big Time Nerd

I should preface my post today with a few insignificant facts that prove to you that I am a smart person. Forgive me if it comes across as boasting. This is unintended. It's merely what you should know before I begin to reveal my idiosyncrasies and uber-quirkiness. So...

#1) I graduated at a relatively high rank in my high school class of 1,392. (OK, I was 12 out of 1392.)

#2) I graduated from Baylor University summa cum laude with a GPA of 3.96

#3) I like to read. I like to write. I like arithmatic.

I credit most of my grades to being a hard worker, diligent, thorough. Basically a nerd. I also have good genes. Both the parents are smart, so my brother and I turned out A-O-K.

But I also inherited something else from my parents. Well, just my mom, really. And that is the incredible talent of mistakenly combining two well-known idioms or phrases and by doing so completely getting it wrong. Or mixing up the words and letters so that what comes out of my mouth sounds like wacky jibber jabber. It's the very reason why I feel sorry for President Bush when David Letterman does his "Great Moments in Speeches" segment of his show.

Sometimes, dare I say usually, I don't realize what I've done until I notice the look on Seth's face. He looks off into the distance with a slight squint in his eyes and confounded look on his face, while his mouth is always slightly curved upward into a half smile, his lips silently repeating my slew of words or mixed up phrase. While I continue with what I deem worthy conversation, he suddenly blurts out what I meant to say, immediately followed by a burst of laughter, me realizing that yeah, that is what I meant to say, the conversation totally lost, me joining the laughing spell, all the while thinking, wow I really need to remember that one.

Seth says they're like riddles that he gets to figure out, some easier than others. So, I thought I'd let you try to figure some of them out. Here we go...

What did I mean to say when I said:

#1) "I don't know where the pen went. Did you check in all the crook and nannies?"

#2) "I can't believe how crowded that airport was. It was a real hubbub."

#3) "He was kidding the whole time, completely pulling my arm."

#4) "He was totally kidding, completely yanking my leg."

#5) "He was kidding the whole time, completely twisting my leg." (#3-5 are the death of me. I can never get them right. And anyways, only one really means to kid around but for some reason I just think you can mix and match.)

#6) "The town was a real honkey donk tank" (You'll never get this one. I can't believe I'm sharing this. I was even confounded as the phrase came out of my mouth.)

#7) (This one occurred today at the breakfast table, and I apologize if you are from Arkansas.) "We played in Arkansas during our tour, and man, driving through that place, it was just totally backsticks."

So there you go. Me in worst form. Good luck.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Danny Boy

I have a very special place in my heart for Muppets. A very special fondness. Growing up with The Muppet Movie, The Muppets Take Manhattan, The Muppet Christmas Carol, Muppet can you NOT love the Muppets? Jim Henson and Frank Oz are geniuses. Kermit was my best friend. My brother and I like to do the Muppet Dance when feeling down. It brightens the world around you. No kidding. You should really try it.

I'm also a singer, so this made my day. Enjoy.

Sunday, March 11, 2007

FancyPants "Pants"ed

And here I am. After a long hiatus from giving my opinion on everyone else's blog and being too lazy to create my own, or maybe too scared, I stare at my template wondering what color in all the world to make my background. And black it stays.

I have debated and debated, do I blog with a secret identity, revealed only to those I choose, or do I just come out and say it? I'm Amber, Seth's wife, and if you're here at my blog it's probably because you read his. There. I said it. Fancy that. My secret identity revealed. And to some of you that means absolutely nothing because it's been so flippin' long since I've entered the blogosphere that we've never entered into any blogalogue of our own. But to others, my long lost blog friends, I'm here! Happy to be with you and hoping you'll take me back.

Welcome to The FancyPants Factory! "COME IN AND KNOW ME BETTER, MAN!"