Thank You, Ben Rector

Here's a better version of the video I posted of Ben Rector singing "I Wanna Dance With Somebody."

Watch this and prepare to have your life changed.



Now, I just need this released on iTunes. Wow.

I Wanna Dance With Ben Rector

My cousin H says some of the funniest things in the world. She doesn't mean to but she's just so darn cute that when she makes her random comments, you can't help but howl. She's told me before that she's a leprechaun. She's told me that Amish people are afraid of her. And she's eaten peanut butter on her burger, which makes me very suspicious about her in general.

One of my favorite comments came from her describing her choice of music. She didn't mean to sound elitist. But she told me quite plainly and simply one day that she "didn't listen to mainstream music." She likes bands that are just on the cusp of being discovered, and she likes them best before they reach the Top 40 radio station. Foster The People was H's band before they were known for all their "pumped up kicks." She's just cool that way. She's definitely a loveable hipster, which is sort of endearing about her.

I've had tickets to see Needtobreathe since November, and so has H. But while she liked needtobreathe, her reason for attending the concert wasn't the popular Southern rock band. No, H was there for the opening act. She was there for Ben Rector.

I'd never heard of him before, but honestly, after Monday night's amazing concert, I won't soon be forgetting him.

I was really digging what he was doing on stage for the first couple of numbers. He had a really cool piano, indie, Eric Hutchinson thing going. And then he started explaining that he'd wanted to do a cover of a song on this current tour, and that he had picked this song before Whitney died and now it took on special meaning. And then he picked up his guitar and the bass player picked up the mandolin, and they did this. 

Holy mess. It was wonderful.

As soon as payday comes around, I will be purchasing all three of his albums. I love a good concert. And this one was exceptional. We were supposed to see needtobreathe with Taylor Swift this summer, and missing that was truly a disappointment. But being able to learn about this new artist "almost" made it worth missing it because I never would have been at the Alabama Theater on Monday night if I hadn't missed that summer show.

And now, a life without Ben Rector's music in it is one I don't want to know.

 (And here was my pic from the needtobreathe section of the show. If you don't know their music, just go listen NOW. Your life will be much better because of it.)

Wickedly Good

Confession time: I didn't like "Wicked" the first time I saw it.

Back in April of 2009, I was super pumped when the play was coming into town. I remember that Work BP had given Work BD and I a special code to get advance tickets, and we were so excited about going. Our tickets just happened to be beside each other, and both of us kept talking about the play for weeks. I listened to the soundtrack adnauseum and re-read the book in anticipation. Everyone who had seen it before talked about how wonderful it was from beginning to end....and I was ready to be amazed.

And then I saw the show. And I was terribly, terribly disappointed.

The girl who played Elphaba was no match for my soundtrack, and the girl playing Galinda was irritating in every way. As I watched Elphaba fly up during "Defying Gravity," a performance that is considered a showstopper, I couldn't help but feel let down. I left the show unimpressed and completely unamazed. Here was a Broadway spectacle that was supposed to overwhelm me, and instead I left sad. I don't think I've listened to the soundtrack since.

So when they announced the play was coming back to Birmingham for three weeks, I wasn't overjoyed like some of my friends were. Meg, whose cat is named after the green witch herself, was pumped about it when we first learned about it....and that was September of 2010.

My mother graciously paid for us to see it on Saturday, and I think she was shocked when we walked in and I told her that this one wasn't one of my favorites. "Then why are we here?" she said. "Cause you liked it!"

I figured my disappointment from before might be due to my inoculation in Oz before. I didn't listen to the soundtrack. I didn't look at my book. I didn't "wikipedia" the story. I just went to the play with no expectations. After all, this wasn't one of my favorites. I sat in my seat braced for disappointment.

It's amazing what a cast change can do. The second time around, I sat stunned and amazed. The performance was flawless.

First of all, Galinda was as cute as a button. She was played by former Miss Ohio, Tiffany Haas. We had the understudy for Fiyero, who wasn't a great singer, but was as cute as a button.

But the real kicker was the girl we had for Elphaba. She was the understudy, and when I saw that we weren't getting the "real" Elphaba, I just knew we were due for a repeat of 2009. But when Stephanie Torns stepped on stage and sang "The Wizard and I", I was sold. Honestly, I don't know who played the part back in 2009, but I guarantee had it been this chick, I wouldn't have felt the way I do about the play for the past 3 years. She was in.cred.ible. I even teared up when she sang "Defying Gravity." Honestly, it was amazing what a difference she made in the performance.

So if you get a chance and you are in Birmingham, just go. I think Meg and I are going to try the Wicked Lottery in a few days for the cheap, good seats. And from someone who used to not be a believer, my mind has been changed....for good. (Pun intended.)

Prayers for Work BP

In November 2006, I sat in a large fancy conference room in my new tan suit from Ann Taylor that I was extremely proud of, with my portfolio in hand and my best brown pumps on my feet. In an interview setting that felt more like sorority rush than a business internship setting, I had a schedule in my possession that listed which interviews were set up for me at what time of day. The very last one on the page intrigued me most, largely because one of the names sounded familiar and the other name sounded like something I'd never heard of before.

I'd seen them come to the door and get other girls to talk with each day, but I never knew if I was one of the the girls they would come and grab at some point. They both just looked so COOL, and I kept crossing my fingers hoping they would be on my interview list. And then, at the end of Day 1, I realized that the names on the page matched up with the two girls I'd seen all day long.

One of them looked like she was straight from NYC. She had these trendy glasses on and this sharp, blond bob and honestly looked like a junior executive ready to take on the world. I was about half way through the interview when I realized she was a girl The other had the best hair of anyone I'd ever met (seriously....I've been trying to duplicate the look for years) and looked so modern with her bold jewelry and bubbly personality. The interview was so fun and so effortless, and working in their department seemed like a perfect fit for me. I knew when I left that day that I wanted their internship more than any of the others.

I got that internship. And those two girls who I wanted so desperately to be my bosses became two of my dearest friends.

I've talked about Work BP and Work BD on here. The two of them have very similar life stories. The got married within months of each other and had their babies within months of each other as well. I learned more about pregnancy and giving birth from the two of them than I ever wanted to know. I honestly had more in common with Work L since we were at similar points in our walk of life, just like the Work B's were.

But despite the fact that we are at vastly different points in life, they are two of my favorite friends who I look up to and admire so much.

When our time together at work was over, the thing I knew I would miss the most were all the friendships I'd developed while I was there. There are some days when I miss Work L's friendship so much. I loved having cube chats with her and learning about her extremely exotic life. I know that she wanted nothing to do with any of us when she left, and I understand that. But I like to think she stops by and reads this little blog from time to time. And if she does, I hope she knows I think about her a lot and that I hope she's doing well. I talk to Josh occasionally. And I run into other people here and there.

But my friendships with Work BD and Work BP remained.....and in my opinion, deepened.....after we walked out the doors of Lakeshore Drive for the last time.

I admire both of them so much, and I value their friendships. When Work BD gave birth to cute little S in September, I excitedly went to visit them in the hospital, and Little S became only the 4th newborn I've held in my lifetime. People, if you know me, you know that's a declaration of friendship right there. (And so far, Little S has shown no signs of permanent damage from early exposure to me.) I honestly consider both of them amongst my dearest friends.

So today, I'm asking you to pray for my friend Work BP as she starts a wild journey. You can read about her story here and all the ways that God has worked in her life lately.  (I'm sure she won't mind me sharing the link with you.) She leaves today to go meet her second daughter in China. They will be a precious family of four for a few weeks before Work BP gives birth to their third daughter in April. It's such an amazing story and one about God's faithfulness and provision.

So....if you don't mind, take a second and please keep my friend in your thoughts and prayers today. I know Work BD and I would appreciate it. It would be awesome if a very pregnant Work BP could STAY a very pregnant Work BP and not require five plane tickets home instead of four.

平平安安回家來，家庭的權力。“我可以等待，以滿足您的家庭的最新成員。

(Come home safely, Powers Family. I can' wait to meet the newest members of your family.) 

My Funny Valentine

I was so excited yesterday afternoon about getting that card from my father. I had plans to frame the card because I already thought it was lovely and would look cute in my very girlie bedroom.

Then I opened my Valentine card from my  mother......who got me the exact same card.

Now I have two of the one I wanted so much.

Great minds really do think alike, don't they?

Please Give Me A Valentine

When I went to Hallmark to buy my Valentine's/get Meg a birthday card, I saw one that was from a parent to a daughter that I loved. And I hoped secretly that one of my parentals would get the card, knowing there was a 1 in a Hallmarks' chance that I would get that particular card.

I love it when things work out the way you want them too.

I love good greeting cards. :-)

The Girl Who Tore The BP/Shell Sign Down

You know that song "Everybody Dies Famous In A Small Town?" If you don't here's a refresher. Go ahead and press play. Then keep reading. I think listening to this song while reading would be completely appropriate.

And here's the story of how I earned my legacy in the great metropolis of Vincent, AL.



Yesterday, I decided to take a half day off to go to Uncle Mike's funeral. I wanted to pay my last respects to the old man, and I especially wanted to be there for my mom and our cousin Cynthia since they were the ones who had put a lot of the burden of the funeral on their shoulders. I left work and I made the turn off Hwy 280 around 11:45. I wasn't supposed to be at my mom's house til around 12, so I decided that I would drive to the cemetery. I know it sounds weird, but I wanted to go by my grandfather's grave alone before everyone was there for Uncle Mike's funeral later.

There's a Shell station in Vincent that is THE only place to get gas in town. Sure, you could drive to Harpersville, but everyone knows about this Shell Station. Actually, I should correct myself. Locals actually call it the BP as that is what it was for years. Despite the fact that it hasn't been that in at least five years, it's still commonly known as the Vincent BP. To get to my parent's house, I would turn right at the intersection where the BP/Shell sits. But to go to the cemetery, you go straight, right in front of the gas station.

I had just passed the usual turn and was headed on towards town when I suddenly saw the teal convertible in front of me slam on their brakes. So naturally, I slammed on mine. We were both going approximately 45 miles per hourish....so to avoid hitting her, I swerved to the right. On normal circumstances, this wouldn't have been a problem. I would have slid into part of the entrance into the gas station, all would have been fine.

But Miss Teal Convertible didn't turn on her blinker and she proceeds to make a sharp turn into said gas station.....and I'm about to get t-boned. So....my reflexes kick in, and I swerve again.

At this point, my car is out of control. I am pretty sure that my back tires went through the ditch and the next think I know my air bags have deployed and I feel a horrible THUD radiate through my body. Seriously, it is a pressure on my chest that I can still feel right now as I write this. And the smell of smoke and fluid filled my nose....again, a smell I still have on my mind right now. The next thing I know this man is running over to my car, opens up the door and says, "You have to get out of the car! Your car is smoking. You have to get out of the car NOW."

So in my heels and my black funeral skirt, I climb out of the right side of the car. And then I look up and I realize what I hit.

Yup. That's my car. Underneath a sign. When I lost control of the vehicle, my car slammed into 1) the electric gas station sign and 2) a fence that was behind it.

And the other car? Not a scratch. My car didn't even touch their car. Apparently, I should have just hit them because since I didn't, it's considered a one car accident. They left scot-free. Seriously, I hope they slept good last night since I apparently left the pretty teal convertible in fine condition. Someone actually told me on site that I would have been better off if I had actually hit the other car because then they would have been held accountable and it wouldn't have been a one car accident.

It literally felt like the whole city of Vincent was standing around me. I was shaky and bruised, but no major injuries. And trust me, the irony that I almost died on my way to a funeral was not lost on me. After I signed all the forms saying that I refused the medical treatment and the paramedics that were headed in that direction, I begin to notice the rescue people getting out their cell phones and taking pictures of my car. The sweet girl stood by me and said they couldn't leave until I left, but her co-workers were standing around my car and laughing.


And suddenly, in an instance, I realized what I would be famous for.


I was the girl who took down the Shell sign.

Don't believe me? Do you think I'm exaggerating? Well, get this.


So I get in my dad's car to drive back home, and I go to Harpersville to get gas. (Because it's going to be a long time before I can show my face at the neighborhood Shell station.) I kid you not. When I walked into the JetPep to pay with my cash, I literally walked in to hear the man inside telling the cashier, "Yeah, it was down on top of the car! I thought it was a truck at first, but it was a white Explorer underneath it. Took the sign right out."

I took that moment to say, "Um, that was me under that sign." He looked at me with this wide-eyed look on his face. "Are you OK? That was some accident!"

And when we went to the mechanic where the car was towed to, all of the guys came up to me, "How in the world did THAT happen?!?" and "How in the world are you not hurt?"

The mayor even came up to me during the funeral. "I heard about the accident. Are you ok?" Seriously, one hour after we had left the scene, the town already knew I was the one who took down the sign. I mean, the only gas station can't put up their prices today, because of me. Well, really because of the twit in the teal convertible.....but still.

My car is totaled, which makes me super sad. I loved my car so much. She had flaws...major ones. She liked to quit sometimes without warning and her CD's got stuck occasionally. So I'm grieving my precious white Explorer that was my graduation present from Auburn. I'm lucky that I'm alive, and I'm thrilled beyond belief that my only injuries are a couple of bruises from the airbag and my hands and arms from jumping out of the vehicle on the passenger side when it was on fire.

So what lessons did we learn from this escapade in automobile dysfunction? Let's list them.

1) Don't swerve to avoid hitting the car in front of you. Always hit them. Because if you don't and your car is damaged but there's isn't, then it's your fault and a one car accident.
2) Love your car. You may not know when she's gonna get demolished.
3) Wrecks can make you feel crazy things. (ie. the smell and the thud I'm still experiencing)
4) In this day and age, people WILL ask if you were texting while driving (I wasn't) but refuse to believe you when you say "no."
5) Most wrecks really do happen within a few miles of "home." Sure, it was my parent's house. But as I explained to Meg, it happened about the spacial distance from the turnstiles at the Magic Kingdom to Cinderella's Castle.
6) People will laugh you respond to their question of "What happened?" with "I knocked down a Shell Station sign."
and the most important rule of all:

7) If you knock down a town icon, you will always be remembered as the girl who tore it down.

(Seriously and all kidding aside, I'm very thankful to be alive after that. It could have been much, much, much worse and the fact that I'm just a bit sore and a bit bruised is a major blessing. Someone was watching out for me and kept me safe. A few more inches and it could have been a much different outcome.)

Go Find Owen and Tom

It's no secret that I grew up in a small town. I lived next door to my maternal grandparents for the first 18 years of my life. I saw them every single day, with few exceptions, until I moved to Auburn. And then it became every other weekend.

A staple of my childhood was my Uncle Mike. He was like the meaner, angrier version of my grandfather....and I really do mean that in a loving way. That's just who he was. He was outspoken and brash and defined the word "Southern." My grandad's baby brother by 2 years, he was quite the individual. He would come to my grandmother's house at least thrice a week....and he my grandfather would just sit on the porch arguing about if the sky was baby blue or powder blue. They fussed like siblings do, and to hear them talk was almost mesmerizing. I remember that I would sit and listen to them on the porch and it sounded like one person arguing with themselves. My grandfather was a little more even tempered than Uncle Mike, but not by much.

But they loved each other. They would go to town and get a "dope" (which was their word for Coke and what I called the stuff until I learned the alternative meaning in the fourth grade) and sit and chat at the local gas station with whomever would go in and out. In fact, Reynold's Gas was their stop, and they would go and shoot the breeze with other fellow retires.

He'd get a new car each year, and it would be almost the exact same car. For years, he drove a red sedan, but when Ford released the Focus, he got a brand new White Focus each year. He would always get the same color and model because he didn't want people to know he was always getting a new car cause he thought people would talk about him.

See, my grandfather and his family were staples in town. Everyone knew the Hassett family. They lived here all their lives. They had the big ole farm down near the railroad tracks. 

He had a wreck about 4 years ago that left him in really really bad shape. His mind kinda went wishy-washy after that. My grandfather was diligent about his visits. He would go visit him once a week, sometimes unable to walk himself down the long hall to his room. The people in the nursing home knew that Mr. Owen was going to come see Mr. Mike, and they still talk about my grandfather and how funny he was two years after he's been gone. But that's partially because Uncle Mike would ask where Owen was at least once a week. Sometimes, he would ask for them to call him multiple times a day, and the nurses would pick up the phone and pretend that "Miss Punt (my gma) said he couldn't come to the phone right now."

He had no children....only a bunch of nieces and nephews. He was blunt and would tell them exactly what he thought...and if he liked it you knew it. And if he didn't like you....well, you knew that too. I think he liked me pretty well. He was an absolutely obnoxious Alabama fan, but I still remember the day that he brought me a collector's Coke bottle that had Aubie on it with War Eagle written down the side so I could take it with me to Auburn. And when I would be at home for the summers, he would ask me all these questions about Auburn football and rag me about how Alabama was going to win the next year (which they never did while I was there, much to his chagrin.)

When I was four, I didn't understand how both Uncle Mike and my father shared a first name. It confused me that both of them were named Mike. And especially at gatherings on my dad's side of the family when my cousins would call my dad Uncle Mike. It was very confusing times for me. I asked him once when I was pre-school age how he could be Uncle Mike too. And I remember he gruffly said that HE was really the only Uncle Mike there was. I didn't get that he was kidding until I was much older and his answer only confused my little self even more.

He was a tough old dude, that's for sure. If you had told me that he would have outlived by grandfather by two years, the 2009 me would have laughed in your face. If you had told me that he would have outlived some of his best friends who were in WAY better health, I would have told you you were nuts. In fact, my grandfather, always the older brother, took Uncle Mike's "good suit" to be cleaned 2 and a half years ago. But Uncle Mike was a stubborn thing, even when he got super sick, and he fought and fought for years.

We knew it was almost the end about two weeks ago. And he started calling for Owen, and their other brother Tom. The nurse said one day last week was particularly filled with him calling for them. And Friday morning, his sweet nurse told him, "Precious, if you see Owen and Tom today, you just go towards them."

I like to think he saw them yesterday when he finally breathed his last breath around 6pm.

My mom was there when he slipped away. I'm sad she was there alone, but I'm so glad that he had family there.

It just makes me really really sad. I think it's because it's one more link to my grandfather that isn't there anymore. Or perhaps its because a prominent figure in my childhood has passed on. Or maybe it's because despite being all alone in life, he did have people who loved him and that's just kinda beautiful. Like my grandfather. Like my mother. Like his sweet, sweet nurses. Like my cousin Cynthia who was an absolute saint to him during the past four years.

Even the lonely aren't really that lonely after all.

Reality Reality Check

Remember this?  Hard to believe that was almost a year ago. Being a candidate for a reality show was such a fun experience! Who knows? Maybe someday I'll be a superstar yet!

But I think Garth Brooks said it best when he said, "Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers." That's always been a favorite song of mine. For years I applied it to the boy who owned my heart for about ten years. I then applied it to my dream of moving to Orlando, and to my grandfather not surviving the infection. God isn't a genie in a bottle. He doesn't grant wishes. He works specifically in our lives....so we learn the lessons that we need to.

I have to make a confession regarding the reality show. When they told me that they had selected another girl instead of me, it hurt.....but not as much as you might expect. Honestly, it hurt worse not getting selected as a War Eagle Girl and it definitely hurt worse when I didn't get the sorority I wanted during rush week. I think because it wasn't something that I had ever anticipated meant it hadn't had a lot of time to dig roots in my heart. Was I disappointed? Sure. But it didn't linger. And truthfully, I was honored.

And now....the show in question has made it on air. And upon watching it, there was only one thought that ran through my mind as the ending credits ran.

WHEW. That was a close one.

I'm absolutely not kidding you. I would have been a fish out of water for sure. I mean, seriously, I would have been chewed up and spit out like day old liver that hadn't been cooked properly in the first place.  The cast is completely different than my type of people....and in so many ways. I just kept watching it and thinking, "Oh dear Jesus, thank you for closing that door."

And then it hit me. It could have been me having a mini-meltdown on the small screen. It could have been some other random girl watching me have a mini-meltdown on t.v. over something kinda silly.

Relief washed over my soul. It was so refreshing.

And here's a fun kicker.....I know one of the girls they cast from my school days. And she's probably the one that beat me out for the slot. She and I couldn't be more opposite. And honestly, now that I've seen the show, I'm unequivocally glad it's her and not me. Honestly, if they wanted someone like her, then they made the best choice not to pick me.

God's not a genie. I'm so glad that he isn't. It was surreal to see "What could have been today?" but even more so to think, "What happened is the way it's supposed to be."

Look At How Crafty I Am

I decided to make something for Little Miss from Pinterest. With (lots of) help from Libby, look what the cutest girl in the world is gonna be wearing soon!