A Southern Soap Opera

The Girl Who Tore The BP/Shell Sign Down

2012-02-09T16:01:00.002-06:00

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

2012-02-06T18:45:00.000-06:00

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

2012-02-04T22:26:00.000-06:00

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

2012-02-03T14:23:00.001-06:00

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!

The Zumba-ing Lolita

2012-02-03T07:00:00.000-06:00

January was not the "let's exercise and go" month I had hoped.I started the month feeling yucky to do a health issue left over from December. Then I got a cold. Then I had other health stuff pop up. And quite frankly, I was exhausted. In fact, I think that if I had to think of three words to describe me lately it would be listless, exhausted and tired.

But alas, I'm still trucking on in my exercise routine. All in all, I ended January down, which was good. Not as great as I hoped....but good.

So Tuesday night, I forced myself to go to the gym even though I honestly didn't feel like it. (Ok. Who am I kidding? It was actually my mother who forced me. I think I told her I wanted to take a nap right there on the table during dinner and she kicked my butt into gear and told me to get to the gym.)

The Tuesday night Zumba class is always packed. There are two teachers who are incredible at this gym, with one of them being Ashley. Listen, Ashley's class is ridiculous, and people flock to the dance room on Tuesday nights. It's always jammed packed in there, but people don't care, because it's "Ashley." But despite the general jam-packed-ness of the room, people typically respect space, with a few exceptions. It really seems like, for the most part, that people know you can't get all up under someone when you are dancing without being annoying.

So last night, I was running a bit late to class because of my stupid brace, but I ran in with enough time to stand in my usual spot. There was this precious lady to my right in her 60's that was doing her first class tonight, and she and I struck up a conversation about how tough Ashley's class usually was. I was so immersed in my conversation with her that I didn't notice Sofia Vergara* come up behind me.

Sofia had on the tightest pants I've seen at the gym. I swear they were either painted on or tattooed to her legs. You get the picture. They were tight. She also had on a black tank top and a cropped fire-engine red jacket with the zipper down to make sure we all saw how big her boobs were. I heard her talk to the lady standing to my left in super-fast and super-loud Spanish.

(This is her!!! Well, except for her jacket was red and she had on no makeup. But seriously. This is her!)

Let me interject something here, folks. And let me warn you it is not my intent to sound racist with this statement. Just because you are Latino, or Spanish or Mexican does not mean you are automatically a Zumba master. It does not mean you are automatically a wonderful dancer. I get that your culture appreciates the art and uses it as a cornerstone of many celebrations. However, just because you are considered part of the Latino community does not mean that you are Ricky Martin or Gloria Estefan. There is a possibility that the rhythm is not going to get you and that you may not "she-bang" when you dance.

I also don't think you should look down on me just because I don't happen to be fluent in your language.

Such is the case of the Alabama Sofia.

We started the routine, and for the most part, Ashley stuck with dance sequences that I've been doing for a year. There is a group of about 6 of us that have been consistent with classes (well....except for my foot debacle) for about a year so I know these girls relatively well. We dance well together, for lack of a better term. (Not that any of us are going to be Fly Girls on "Living Color." But we are at least all in sync. And it looks good in the mirror.)

I make sure I give the older lady a bit of room since she is new and it takes a while to catch on. But to my left, I notice that I'm no longer standing an appropriate distance from Sofia's friend. No, at this point, Sofia has wormed her way up into my space. And I'm literally about to run into her with every spin and turn that I make.

Finally, it happens. Sofia, in all her awkward glory, gets close enough to flap me during one of the upper cardio routines.

And then she spouts some sort of insult in my face in Spanish and keeps dancing. I don't speak the language, but trust me, she did not say, "Excuse me."

I don't know what happened to me, but suddenly I was enraged. This is MY spot. This is MY dance class. You do NOT get to say something disdainful to me in Spanish and expect me to be ok with it. I get that you are Latino and you think that you are Katrina Smirnoff, but Sofia, you are not. And my body is just filled with rage as I start to get closer and closer in her personal space, forcing her to move or get hit.

The first time I deliberately flapped her was when she was so close behind me I could feel her heavy breathing on my neck. So when we spun, I stuck my arms straight out, completely aware I was going to hit her. And I did.

The next time was when we had to take six steps back. Stupid Sofia took six steps forward instead. So the next go around, I made sure that me and my long legs took a few extra spots to force her hand. She didn't go forward that time.

But Sofia finally got the message when we started doing this step that goes, "punch, turn, punch, turn." Well, let's just say I punched and turned a little harder than the instructor wanted. Sofia didn't turn quick enough and I got her square in the shoulder. Hey! It's not my fault. Girlfriend turned the wrong way for the 97th time in the class and almost fell into me. All I did was follow instructions. She grabbed her arm backed up after that and got directly behind her friend...like she should have been all along, with her chest still flapping out of her red cropped coat.

Look. You may say I have gym rage. And quite honestly, gym rage is worse than road rage because there's always the chance that you are going to run into your attackee/er at any visit. But Sofia needed to learn a lesson. You don't get in another person's personal space. I knew going into the class that I might not get to stay because I was late. I knew to respect those who got there before I did and used my judgement to decide if I should stay or not. Sofia didn't do that. She just believed her skill was awesome and that she was entitled to do whatever the heck she wanted.

Sofia, I'm watching you. And you need to watch your back. Because like it or not, you are going to learn that 1) You are not the Zumba Lolita and 2) You will not get in my space without me putting up a fight.

No tengo miedo de ti, y yo bailaremos círculos a su alrededor hasta que aprenda su lugar.

****(The girl seriously reminded me of her the entire class, therefore that is what she will hence forth be called.)

For The Little Bridge Girl

2012-02-02T09:00:00.000-06:00

I'm 27 years old, yet and I've known for 16 years that one of my future children would not biologically be mine. Now before we get ahead of ourselves, I'm not adopting any babies anytime soon. That's not what this post is about. But it doesn't change how my heart feels towards the idea that not all babies have to be put in a family in the natural way.

I remember the first time my heart was completely broken for the sweet babies overseas. We got these Weekly Readers in 6th grade that were supposed to teach us to keep up with news and to read the real paper (which I already did each night at my grandparents, but whatever.) Anyways, I distinctly remember sitting at my desk and reading an article about this orphanage that was taking in all of these precious baby girls so that their parents wouldn't kill them. In this particular country, parents wanted boys, leaving the girls alone and scared to fend for themselves.

One particular baby girl had survived a fall from a bridge where her parents had thrown her out like we throw out gum from our car windows. I'm sure Mrs. Merrell doesn't remember this, but I had to ask to go to the bathroom with tears in my eyes because I didn't want to cry in front of my classmates.

Brokenness at 11. It's a scary thing.

I was haunted by the little bridge girl for years. I wondered what happened to her and if she found someone to love her. I had all these questions and couldn't help but hope that she'd found a home of people who would love her and take care of her. I don't always understand the messages that I hear from above and I know that they are often misinterpreted and mistranslated because of our own wants and desires, but I've always felt that someday I would go to that country and add a part of it to my life permanently. Who knows if that will happen someday? But I know for sure that my life was forever changed at 11 by the little bridge girl.

The whole process though enthralls me. It's something that I someday hope and pray that I'm able to do, and I guess it's why I read about it all the time. It's why I read every single blog on my cousin R's journey with such devoted interest. It's why I've added Work BP to my daily prayer list and anticipate her bringing her second daughter to her forever home.

It's also why I am able to support an organization like The Sound of Hope.

(E and her husband Rusty with one of their sweet friends in India)

See, I would give to E's organization even if I didn't believe in the cause because I love her and I support what she supports. But she's devoting her life to helping sweet babies like the one I read about. She's helping give a life and an education and a home to that baby girl whose parents threw her off the bridge. She's setting up schools for these children so they can overcome the circumstances they were born into. She's helping some find forever homes and she's helping others build a forever life.

So, today is Alabama Gives Day. And even if you don't live in Alabama, I'm asking you to consider giving to The Sound of Hope today. There are some cool Alabama/Auburn prizes you might win if you donate $10 dollars or more, but that's not why you should consider giving. Think about it this way.

Could you save $4 each day this week? Maybe give up that Starbucks coffee or that trip to McDonalds? Could you wash your clothes instead of sending them to the cleaners? Could you buy Wal-Mart brand instead of name brand when you go grocery shopping this week? For $25, a child can be educated for one month. ONE MONTH. That's $.83 per day.

And because of that donation, some sweet child can go to school and learn and start striving towards an awesome life full of potential and success.....all because you gave up your Starbucks.

I'm not meaning to sound like an infomercial. But visit E's website. Learn a little about the kiddos she's helping, and perhaps reach beyond your comfort zone and support Alabama Gives Day.

By doing so, you are gonna be helping sweet children like that one who was tossed over a bridge and captured my heart. You'll be helping the caretakers who found her and took her in. And you are helping give her the things she needs to overcome that nasty way she was treated as a baby. And you are also helping the 27 year old girl who still thinks about the baby girl by the bridge so many years later.

An Interview With Me

2012-01-30T11:00:00.000-06:00

Alright. I'll play. So Ashley tagged me. And perhaps gave me the motivation to post a life follow up and blog again. I do love me some blog challenges. (AHEM, Baby Cousin A.)

I'm not going to tag anyone, because I don't really know anyone that I would tag who would actually answer and play along, so just enjoy my trip through memory lane, and we can go from there. (I apologize ahead of time for the fact that I'm super long winded. I talk a lot. So sue me.)

11 Facts About Me
1. I hate the month(s) of January and September.
2. My perfect meal consists of movie popcorn, thin crust pizza, my mom's ChexMix and Diet Dr. Pepper with vanilla.
3. I google vacations when I'm bored at work.
4. Right now, I would like to take a nap more than anything in the world.
5. I convinced my parents to name their dog after a character in the Hunger Games.
6. I tend do be fanatical about the things I enjoy.
7. I am growing tired of wearing boots every day.
8. My bed is my favorite place in my house lately.
9. I can't stand the name Bubba.
10. I've lied and said I liked certain people when I actually can't stand them so I don't hurt feelings.
11. I think a lot more than I should about what celebrities would play the people in my life in a movie.

1) If you could vacation anywhere in the world and money was not a concern, where would you go?
I'm going to cheat and tell you two vacations I would take. When I worked for Southern Living At HOME, I had the chance to go to some really fantastic hotels and amazing vacation destinations. I also got to preview some potential trips that were options for our customers. And there is one that stands out, even four years after I first saw the booklet. It was this castle-like resort in Canada. It looked like the pictures had literally been stripped from a storybook. And although beach destinations were more popular with our consultant friends, I remember crossing my fingers and praying that my bosses chose that location so I would get to go. (Granted, the company sprung a leak before it was even an option.....but still.) To this day, I dream of someday going and staying at one of those castles. I look at The Westin Resort and Spa in Whistler and the Fairmont Le Chateau Frontenac and I close my eyes and dream of myself surrounded in a castle in the snow.

My second vacation is Hawaii. I know this is an American destination that people go to all the time, but I really would love to spend two weeks in a tropical paradise that is half a world away. I want to hear the Polynesian music and eat the food and immerse myself in Hawaiian culture....and still be a selfish American and not have to translate another language to survive. I see pictures from there, and my heart just longs to be in the long sun with the big bright pink and purple flowers all around me. (I also have to admit that a part of me hopes that the man I marry would be willing to have a destination wedding and get married here. I REALLY don't want to get married in a traditional ceremony for lots of reasons, and I think this would be a really good fit for me.)

I'm currently obsessing over this place. Doesn't it look fantastic?

2) Who is your best friend? Why?
That's easy. Little Miss. Duh.

Truth be told, while Little Miss' momma may be my best friend, I have been blessed with lots of peeps that would fall into that category. Ly's known me longest and she's the friend who knows everything (and I do mean ev-ur-ee-th-ang, but Meg is the one that I call when I've had a bad day or a freak out and she meets me for angry Tazeki's meetings or Sunday dinners at Chuy's. And Libby is the one I call when I have a project I want to undertake or a new adventure. She's the one I go to when I need to get creative. I mean, I have great friends. When I say my friends are better than yours, I truly truly mean it.

3) Facebook or Twitter addict?
Hmmm......both? Neither? I'm not addicted to either, I think. Now, my iPhone? Different story.

4) Where is your favorite place to shop?
I love Ann Taylor Loft. I love the outlet. I love the website. I love the store. I know exactly what size fits me, and I know what pieces look the best. It's clean and trendy and classic.....all in one piece.

5) What is your go-to clothing item?
My skinny jeans get worn more than any other item in my closet. I got these things last year from Old Navy, and I haven't stopped wearing them since. I can wear them as leggings underneath a dress. I can layer them with a sweatshirt. I can wear them with a long-ish shirt. I can wear them with flats. I can wear them with boots. If Dr. Suess was still alive, I'm sure he could find a poem in there somewhere. Anyways. they are a staple of my wardrobe and a piece I couldn't live without.

6) If you had to read one author for the rest of your life, whose books would you want to read?
Ouch. Tough, tough question. I think I'm going to say Jodi Picoult, although I think that my brain is going to be exhausted only reading her work. I have loved (almost) everything that she has written, although when I'm done with it, I have to take a break and read something extra fluffy to satisfy me. I just think if I could only read one author, I'd go with her as the safest bet.

7) If you only had one day left to live, what would you do and who would you spend it with?
That's depressing. I know most people would say, "I would spend it at home with my family and friends." And I would spend it with my family and friends. But if I knew it was my last day on Earth, I would pack up my mom, my dad and my best friends and I would fly to Disney World and spend the last day watching Wishes. I would want my last day filled with fun, fireworks and parades and Pineapple Dole Whips.

8) Tell us the top 3 items on your DVR list.
Hmmm....there's four. Glee. Once Upon A Time. Grey's Anatomy. How I Met Your Mother. (And maybe I'd throw in a little Big Bang Theory and New Girl in there too.) (I like T.V. way too much.)

9) Tell us the color of the dress you wore to your senior prom.
I wore a white dress with sparkles. I loved this dress so much that I drove to Atlanta to pick it up. I think my parents were willing to help me get what I wanted since I went to my senior prom ALONE. (I've tried to repress all those memories. Yeesh.) I still think back on that dress and how much I loved it. The night may have completely sucked, but I loved that dress.

10) What is your favorite childhood memory?
I had a wonderful childhood, so pinning down one is hard. Many of my favorites, though, included my grandfather and all the time that I spent with him: playing cards, memorizing the county numbers on the license plates of Alabama, watching him go down my slip-n-slide fully clothed. But I think one of my favorite, favorite memories involved sitting on the backporch when he would make up these amazing stories while I ate pop-cicles with him. Most of his stories were completely made up, but there is one that has been in my head for 27 years. Grandad sat on the porch with me and pointed up to an airplane flying over head and said, "When I was a little boy, I once flew by myself on an airplane. My mom and dad dropped me off at the airport and I flew all the way to Georgia. And while I was on the plane, the stewardess gave me a grape Popsicle. And boy, was it good! And on my way back, she gave me an orange one. And ever since, that's been my favorite flavor."

It wasn't until I was in my teenage years that I learned that 1) my grandfather was born in 1918, so flying as a boy wasn't really an option for him and 2) my grandfather had never even flown in his life. But for years, that's the one story I remember most: my grandad on a plane going to Georgia with Popsicles.

11) Mountains or beach?
Mountains. Definitely mountains. Preferably Gatlinburg with a side of Dollywood.

Well, that was fun. If you decide to play yourself, answer the questions above, blog them and let me know so I can read them. YAY for blog challenges!

Whew!

2012-01-27T11:00:00.000-06:00

Whew!

Since we last spoke ten days ago, I have to admit my life has been incredibly busy. I should have blogged more. I have lots of fun stories. But when I had time, I ended up falling in bed and crashing. I do that a whole lot these days.

So how about a photo dump, a list, and a promise to do better? Ok? Ok.

*Fun fact: If you go to a restaurant with a child, they get a coloring book and crayons. Including a four-month-old who can't even hold her on bottle.

*Sometimes, getting defriended is a good thing. As long as one of your dear friends DOESN'T get defriended and can still share amazing quotables with you. (I like chicken. I like pizza. I like cake, and I can eat it too.)

*Waiters shouldn't cross me. If you rush me through dinner with two of my favorite girls when one of them has had a horrible day, I'm going to order dessert even though I'm stuffed just to make you rerun our check stay with us a little bit longer.

*And if you bring out my check with dessert while rushing me with two of my favorite girls when one of them has had a bad day and continue to piss me off, I'm probably going to leave you a little note as your tip.

*I pretended like I was seven when I watched "Beauty and the Beast 3:D."

*I surprised Work BD and Work BP with a super fun blast from the past. Let's just say that you sometimes find fun surprises in old travel bags. (See, Work L? Don't you wish you were still friends with us so you could be included?) (P.S. Hope you had fun in Hawaii over Christmas! Super jealous.)

*Finding the Bella dress at a nearby wedding store.

*Hanging out lots with Cousin H and being thankful for family night.

*Spending quality time with a dear girlfriend and meeting some of her fun friends.....all while wearing sequined crowns and learning that you should wrap yourself in Preparation H and hemorrhoid creme to lose water weight.

*Said girlfriend letting me try on her real-life crown

*Party planning. For multiple people. And multiple parties.

*Meeting lots of new people at book club while learning about media and medium (not the psychics) and about a sweet woman who lived a horrible life but helped solve a TON of medical issues....and reading said book on my new best friend, Kendall the Kindle Fire. (Yes, I know I'm a weirdo.)

*Not watching television. This television junkie hasn't turned on the television all week. I have hours of shows to catch up on. My DVR is going to get a workout this weekend.

I'm going to be a better blogger. I promise! I'll get back into the swing of things soon! Maybe I can talk about my Pinterest projects or something soon. Who knows?

Anyhoo....forgive the lack of contact and accept the pictures. Have a magical day, people!

What A Rip Off

2012-01-16T08:45:00.001-06:00

I'm not a bad Auburn fan. I'm really not. I don't send taunting text messages. I don't post mean things on my Facebook page. I don't buy t-shirts that are just tacky against Alabama. I believe more in promoting my own team. And for my friends who do? Well, that's their prerogative. I'm not saying it's wrong....I'm just saying, I don't do it.

But I'm a proud Auburn fan. When I go shopping, I find it difficult to purchase red items of clothing. I love houndstooth, but refuse to add it to my wardrobe in any style or fashion. I think the colors orange and blue are a lovely pair, and my heart swells with pride when I see a fellow Auburn fan on the road. And thus, I have a National Championship 2011 sticker on the back of my car. '

Or, I guess I should say "had."

On Thursday, I had to stay late at work, but still had another hour to kill before I went to book club. So I opted to go to Wal-Mart since I had a few items I needed to pick up. When I walked out, I immediately noticed this on the back of my car.

Someone had tried to rip the top and the bottom off my sticker while I was in Wal-Mart. They couldn't get the whole thing because it was stuck on their pretty good. But the culprit ripped the top and the bottom off during the 30 minutes I had gone into the store.

How do I know it was Wal-Mart? Easy. I had lunch with AN that afternoon, and we both made a comment about how you could obviously tell what team I went for by looking at the back of my car. My sticker was proudly in good condition then. And my company is entirely too small for someone to have done that to my car and gotten away unseen. (And everyone here with a few rouge exceptions are Auburn fans.)

Do I like that Alabama won the National Championship? Not really. I mean, I don't really care other than the fact that it eclipsed Auburn. But do I hate it? No. And would I ever touch someone's private property because I didn't like their team? Absolutely not.

I have someone in Auburn working on getting me a new sticker, and I'm really appreciative as they are all out in Birmingham.

I guess being classy is just too much to ask for some people.

Wish #1

2012-01-12T11:20:00.001-06:00

I wish that TLC would just once show a program about a normal family with no "hook." You know: a mom, a dad, a son, a daughter and maybe a cat or a dog.

Instead, they show stellar programming like this......

Don't get me wrong. I love the Duggars. Obviously. And Mackenzie from Toddlers and Tiaras owns me. But this show made me feel icky and wrong. I lasted five minutes. And then I went and gagged a little before changing the channel.

Bookending Auburn

2012-01-10T09:32:00.000-06:00

I'm not a bitter Auburn fan. Really. I'm not. (Don't I sound like I'm trying to convince myself ?) And on most years, I would be happy for Alabama winning the National Championship. I mean, after the devestation and loss that town faced after the tornadoes, it really is awesome to see something so wonderful happen to the area, and especially something that means so much to so many people.

But did it HAVE to come right after Auburn's National Championship last year? Now our BCS title is bookmarked between wins by our arch-rival. It's almost like Alabama fans were determined to win even more this year just so they could rub it in our faces once again.

And I did it. I got on Facebook during the game when Alabama's kicker was winning the title for them (you know the one who they shunned back in November for missing so many?) Anyways, I kept seeing things that irritated the crap out of me. And alas, I'm taking a moment on my blog.....not Facebook.....to talk about the things that irritated me most about the sayings of my Alabama friends.

*I'm so glad that all of my Alabama fan friends think they just won their 14th National Title. And my favorite post was by this jerk I'm not completely sure why I haven't defriended yet who said, "I'm going to have to buy all new Alabama stuff because mine is out of date. It all says we have 13 titles and we have 14!" What I WANTED to say (but I didn't) was, "Ahem. You have 9 titles now. Technically, your stuff that says 13 will be current when you win 4 more." Don't believe me? I understand. I'm a girl who like football, but who isn't a walking talking encyclopedia of football statistics. But you might take the word of ESPN right?

Nine. Not 14. Yes, that's more than my team's two. Blah, Blah, Blah. If I went around counting the way that Alabama does, my team would have won the title in 2004 and 1992. So we've won five using Bama Math. Good deal.

*To the idiot who gave Harvey Updyke a ticket, I wish you had looked into the face of a sweet woman from my hometown who wanted to go when you gave him that ticket. She asked on Facebook in December if someone....anyone....would help her find a ticket. She had always wanted to go to the National Championship, but despite efforts by friends and family who knew her, she watched it on ESPN like most of us did last night. And I think about people like my grandfather who LOVED the Crimson Tide and my father who would have been dancing in his pants if he got to go to that game. And yet someone like Harvey Updyke got to go to the game. If he had a benefactor who got him in, I would have hoped that money could have been put to better use. If ole Harvey himself paid his way in, then he's going to have a hard time convincing the court of public opinion that he's as destitute and poor as he wants us to believe.

*If you are an Alabama fan, then of course that game was exciting. You won! The spirit of the Bear is alive and well. But for the rest of us, that game was boring. Seriously. I flipped the channel after the first half. And then I fell asleep through most of the 3rd quarter. I don't know. Perhaps I was spoiled by the Fiesta Bowl and the Rose Bowl which provide entertainment through multiple OT's and offensive passes. But that was boring. B.O.R.I.N.G. The first 15 points were from field goals. (Side note: I get that A.J. McCarron played amazing, but Jeremy Shelley won the game for you guys. He deserved MVP.) When as recorded below, my mother thought it was the most exciting game ever. No, mom. It was only exciting because your team won. For the rest of us who didn't really care......well, we flipped to "Pretty Little Liars" on ABC Family after halftime.

*I HATE the argument that says, "They are from your state so you should cheer for them." That's crap. I'm sorry. But it's crap. I cheer for Alabama sometimes because of my grandfather. But if you chose to cheer for the team that's playing Bama, that's fine too. But despite who you cheer for, you should be classy about it. Don't intentionally taunt other fans. Don't send obnoxious text messages to people who don't send you obnoxious texts. Again, I woke up this morning to text messages that were just mean-spirited. And I would follow the logic of sending those texts if I had done the same thing to you last year. But I didn't. And I won't. Because that's classless. I hated the green and gold "As" people put up last year as their profile pics, and in a way, I felt the purple and gold AU's were completely justified this year because of it. Just be classy. Don't take it too far. Have fun, but don't get completely put off when someone doesn't cheer for the team for the other side of the state. And for that matter, don't get offended if I cheer for Alabama every now and then. IT'S A GAME.

*I'd love to actually sit down and do the statistics on what I'm about to say, but I'm not that much of a nerd. 95% of my fellow Auburn alumni on my friend list didn't make jerky comments. 95% of my Alabama alumni friends on my friend list didn't make jerky comments. But guess what? Those fans who didn't go there were the ones who showed their butt cracks last night. People, it didn't make you look classy. In fact, it made you look completely uneducated. And yes, I'm talking about you Graduate From A Tiny School Down South. If you went to school there, you just act better. I think there must be some sort of brainwashing that takes place at Bama Bound or Camp War Eagle to make people act better.

*If people were as passionate about Jesus as they were Alabama football (through loving it or hating it) last night, then the world would be a greater place.

Look, I spent 365 days as a fan of the National Championship team. I have an orange and blue sticker on my car. And it's fantastic that Alabama fans now have their 9th Championship. Roll Tide. And may the SEC continue to dominate the BCS. (I'm just hoping we can spread the wealth a little next year. I'm sick of the Alabama/Auburn hostility. Maybe next year, Georgia can get in on the action. A girl can dream, right?)

The Most Exciting Game

2012-01-09T22:34:00.002-06:00

Actual conversation between me and my Alabama fan mother.

(Occurred January 9th in the middle of the 4th quarter of the BCS Championship.)

Me: Mom, I'm going to bed. Congrats on the Alabama win. Roll Tide and all that.

Her: ISN'T THIS AN AWESOME GAME?

Me: (Pause) Mom, no one scored a touchdown til 9 seconds ago.

Her: No, it's been awesome. Alabama had played amazing offense.

Me: Um, I hate to break it to you but when a team fails to make a touchdown til 8 min left, that's not what I'd call 'amazing offense.'

Her: BUT HASN'T IT BEEN EXCITING?!?!?

Me: I think that unless you are an Alabama fan, you probably did like me and turned the channel 2 hours ago.

***************************
This is not me being the bitter Auburn fan, but my goodness this was the most boring BCS Championship ever......that is unless you are a crimson-colored glasses wearing Bama fan.

My 2011 GPA

2012-01-03T09:33:00.001-06:00

Let's review last year's resolutions, shall we?

http://www.southernsoapopera.com/2011/01/well-take-cup-of-kindness-yet.html

So....how did I do?

1) Stand my ground and be myself.
I tried. My mother said I succeeded, but only because when I stand my ground to her it irritates the crap out of her. I don't know. I did the best I could. I got suckered a few times by cowering down and doing what other people wanted, which ultimately made me feel icky in the long run. But I also can name quite a few specific instances where I stood up and spoke my mind and was super proud of myself. So, because of the awesome feeling this gave me, I have plans to expound upon it in the new year. But for my growth in 2011, I'm going to give myself a solid Grade: B+.
2) Start writing my book.
Fail. Epic fail. I started. I think I wrote a chapter back in February. But then I got busy. And bored. I'll do it. Someday. But I don't think I'm going to make a resolution about it. Grade: F-
3) Zumba more.
I did this one. And I fell in love with other classes. Yes, it kinda fell by the wayside during the whole Surgery Fiasco of 2011 and then again during the madness that was December, but I'm going to give credit where credit is due. Grade: A-
4) Cook more.
Yup. I definitely did this. I learned to grill steak and I made spaghetti and lots of other Weight Watcher friendly recipes, many from this website here. I also baked....most of which ended up disastrously. But I did it. Yet, I didn't do it near enough. My goal in 2012 is to skip the sandwiches and the Lean Cuisines that are such a staple in my kitchen and break out the appliances more. My mom got me this fun mixer for Christmas since I successfully killed my cheap $4 Wal-mart one, so here's to more healthy cooking in 2012. Grade: B+
5) Keep a clean bathroom.
Had you asked me this in March, I would have had to have given myself a big ole fat D. But somewhere around June, the cleaning bug hit me. Baby Cousin L helped me do a complete overhaul of my kitchen. I spent an entire Saturday organizing my bedroom. And somewhere down the line, my bathroom got included on the "make me spotless" list. Right now, it's a bit disheveled. But I try to spend time at least once a month doing a deep clean of my bathroom. It's not fun, but even I'll admit that ti feels good once everything is in spotless condition. Grade: A

I don't think that's do bad of a report card. If I was in college, I'd have a 2.86 GPA. That's not horrible, but it's certainly not great. I'd barely be eligible for a college organization at Auburn.

I don't want to have a bad GPA for 2012. Let's do this.

1) I will walk to Disney World.
Look, I was on track to do it last year. So this year, I'm all over it. I deleted my spreadsheet this morning, and I'm starting over starting today. It's a little depressing to think I got so far for naught, however, what's past is past. I'm starting over starting today, and I will make it there by October 2012. 550 miles. Let's do this.

2) I will exercise three times per week.
I think this is a good base. I had gotten to a point where I was going to the gym five nights a week, and while I would love to get back to that point, I need to be realistic first. Three times a week for at least one hour each visit. I can do it. I can do it. I can do it......right?

3) I will make positive out of negative.
I'm going to build on the one above where I declared I would stand up for myself. I've decided that when people try to tear me down or try to make me conform, I will say something positive. It may not be something positive about the thing tearing me down, (because let's face it, I'm not that mature) but I will turn that negative around and make something good from it. So when my heart is hurting for whatever reason or when I feel torn down, I will do my best to make something nice out of something bad. Garbage in. Beauty out.

4) I will clean out my closets.
Literally. Not figuratively. You heard it hear first folks. I have three disastrous closets. I mean, they are ridiculously bad. Sometime before December 31, 2012, I will organize and clean out these closets. It HAS to happen.

5) I will take a "real" vacation.
Last year, I took several "extended" weekends. I went to the beach. I went to Disney World. I went to Gatlinburg. And I took one day off work for each trip. But with the exception of my week long surgical vacation, I never took more than one day off at a time for myself. If Resolution 1 works out, then I will have three days off in a row. But regardless, this year, I want to take some time off for me. I work SO hard and I burn the candle at both ends in everything that I do. This year, I want to make sure I take some time for me and refresh my mind. I NEED to make me a priority this year.

Alright. Ready. Set. Go! I can do these five things and hopefully have a better GPA for next year! Let's do this, 2012!

So Maybe I'll Miss You A Little

2011-12-31T21:00:00.002-06:00

I will be the first to admit that I've been hard on 2011. I've whined and complained my way through most of it, but when I look back on it, there is no way that I can say it was a completely horrible year. As many ways as I struggled and fought my way through the year, I also gained a lot from it as well. And this year really is a perfect example of checks and balances....or a balance weight. There was a whole lot of bad, but for every bad, there was equal amounts good. And that's nothing to complain about.

So let's get list-y for a moment, shall we?

My football team won the national championship. (War Eagle!)

I had my first real girls trip to the beach.

Meg and I ate our way through Epcot through Disney in a (Handicap) Day.

My mom overcame a really serious health issue.

I lost weight and learned that exercise can be fun.

BodyCombat got the best of me and broke my ankle.

I learned to ask for help.
I met Daisy Duke.

I learned to be a bit more patient.

My pink Christmas tree in my bedroom MADE my holiday.

Gorgeous Foreigner left a lasting impression on my life.

(Side note: I do hope he is having a happy holiday, no matter where he may be.)

I learned that headbands and belts are my friends.

My friendships with certain people fizzled.

My friendships with certain people grew.
My Kindle rocked my world.
I visited the world famous Whistle Stop Cafe.

I threw the world's coolest baby shower.

My Fourth of July rocked.

I was super sick on my birthday.

E moved back to Alabama.

Pinterest and I developed a love/hate relationship.
I finally painted that picture at Sips n Strokes with Libby that I've wanted to paint forever.

Little Miss's arrival was announced and her arrival surprised us all.

I went into a sketchy Rite Aid in a hurricane on crutches to prove that I'm BFF material.

I was the Ariel to Meg's Snow White.
I gave Hunger Games as a baby shower present.
My life was changed when I saw Les Miserables.

AN shared Toddlers and Tiaras, Duggar Love and her friendship with me.

Work BD and Work BP brought new members into their families.

So did my cousin R.

I found skinny jeans that work with my awkward body.
I laughed my way through the Muppets.

I walked to 31 with Baby Cousin L.
Little Miss dressed like Renesseme while her mom and I acted like we were 13.

I cooked.

I baked.

I laughed until I cried and I cried until I laughed.

I saw Breaking Dawn three times.

Pirates of the Caribbean changed my life.

I tailgated.
I saw the Coaches Trophy at the tacky Trophy tour.
I ate more takeout from Bubba Gumps than actually dining in.

I ate at the nastiest restaurant in Gulf Shores.

(Hi, Becks! I hope you and your pornographic t-shirt from King Neptune's are having a lovely New Years.)
I went red.
I bodyjamed.
I watched a guy get kicked out of an Auburn game.

I became best friends with Sam, the expert caster.

My PT and I became besties as well.

Zombies and vampires dominated my entertainment tastes.

My Christmas was awesome.

Taylor Swift broke my heart when she got bronchitis.
I said goodbye to the world's best hotdog man.

Remi broke my heart, but Rue came to mend it..

Two of my soaps went off the air.

(RIP All My Children and soon to RIP One Life To Live)

I discovered "The American President."

In a year where it was easy to focus on all the bad, there was a whole lot of good. I DO hope, however, that 2012 is a better year than 2011 as it was terribly, terribly frustrating.

I lost some friendships. But some others grew exponentially, soothing the pain from losing the others. I learned that a Little Miss can change the way I look at the world and that despite her completely changing my outlook on life, she didn't change her momma's and mine's friendships. I learned that going on vacation with someone can make you even better friends. I pray that the Work B's will always be my friends. I figured out that I can survive being hurt by the people I least expect and I learned who I can lean on when such heartbreak happens.

So I'll end the year with some pictures. Some go with the things that happened above. Some are just random ones that I liked. But I'm thankful for the ups and the downs of 2011 and all the things it brought.

Bring it on 2012. My tree is down and I'm eating my superstitious black eyed peas and turnip greens tomorrow. I want all the luck on my side I can get.

Adios, 2011! Thanks for the memories!

This Christmas Will Be A Very Special Christmas For Me

2011-12-29T10:00:00.001-06:00

They say when brides get done planning their weddings, they go through this period of depression afterwards because the fabulousness of planning the party is over. Now, I don't know what that feels like cause I haven't planned a wedding. However, I can imagine it's similar to how I feel every year on December 26. And this year was no exception. Except for a hiccup that occurred on Sunday night, it was an almost perfect Christmas from the first dinner on Thursday to the shopping trip with my mom on Monday.

It started off with family Christmas dinner at my house. Both of my grandmothers and my sweet friend Meg came over and ate chicken and dressing and green beans and corn casserole and sweet potatoes....all cooked by my mother. But I supplied the lovely Christmas dinnerware....and the cake.

Doesn't my table look lovely? Personally, I think using the cake as the centerpiece was an amazing idea. But I digress. This was a very important cake as it is the one that I whole-heartedly declared myself....not a baker.

I've tried. I really have. I mean we all remember this. And this. I just don't have luck with sweets despite my sincerest attempts. But I found this recipe, and I was determined I was going to make a perfectly peppermint cake for Christmas dinner.

So when I made my swirly cakes and it didn't come out the perfect white and red that the recipe called for, I didn't stress. It was going to taste good, because I pinched off a small corner before icing to taste test. But then...it happened. Once again, there was a struggle between me and a spice....or rather an extract.

The recipe called for a teaspoon of vanilla and a teaspoon of peppermint extract in the icing. My vanilla had the hard to get out top so I had to shake it really hard to get out the needed amount. Without thinking, I assumed the peppermint would be the same way.....not noticing the "Easy To Pour" warning on the label. With one swift stroke, I had poured half a bottle of peppermint extract into a mixture that only called for a teaspoon.

It tasted like cream cheese flavored toothpaste.

Seriously, you could smell the peppermint upstairs in my house. I had it all over my hands, which unsurprisingly felt very cold after all that playing in peppermint. I somehow managed to salvage it though, adding in some more powdered sugar and another block of cream cheese. In the end, I think it was one of the most delicious things I've ever made. My dad gave it the greatest compliment, though. When he ate his piece he said, and I quote, "It tastes like Christmas in Gatlinburg." And that to me was worth all the compliments in the world.

The next day, I ran errands, including one where I played Santa for myself....by accident. I also made a visit to a friend from church's house to see his new train house that he mimicked after his almost 50 year friendship with my grandfather. He has all these little tributes to him in his setup, including the house where my grandfather grew up. Being there felt like being with him for Christmas in a way.

A brunch the next morning was followed up by a visit to pass out some candy to people in need during the season which was followed by an amazing Christmas Candlelight Service. I saw Santa in the firetruck....again! I then chased a dog around Ly's backyard for 30 minutes (I was helping her with a Christmas present for her dad....which is an entirely different story all together.) before heading to my parents house to eat chili and open up presents. Perfect Christmas Eve. And when my dad and mom opened up their iPhone and iPad respectfully at the same time, it was an amazing moment. My mom cried. My dad teared up. I cried cause I'd been keeping the secret of their gifts for so long.

Christmas Day had church, yummy lunch, a visit from Santa and napping by the Christmas tree while watching Hallmark. The Baby Cousins and Auntie J came to my Mema's, and I ended the day by snuggling with Little Miss for a minute or two.

As far as gifts go, it was perfect. I got my Philip Lutzenkirchen jersey that I've wanted since September. My mom bought me the princess music box I lusted after at the General Store in Leeds. Santa also brought me some adorable boots and the name necklace I wanted PLUS a Toomer's Corner necklace. And I can't forget that there was Tangled in my stocking.....plus way too much other stuff to mention. (Although....I think out of all those things, I've used my Kindle Fire most of all. I. Love. It.)

Amazing Christmas. I wouldn't have changed much about it. I mean....I wouldn't change much of December actually. There has been so much going on that I haven't had time to blog about it, but this Christmas was one of the best I've had in recent memory. 2009 was so sad because of my grandfather. And 2010 was filled with memories of missing him. 2011 was pretty much pure joy. Christmas in Dollywood was one of the best trips I've had to the mountains in recent memory. The cooking class and the light-search I had with friends was festive.

It just all showed me how blessed I am.

So, it's with a heart-filled with bittersweet emotion that I will take down my tree this weekend. Until next November, I'll say goodbye to my favorite holiday of the whole year. But it will be many years before I forget this Christmas because it really was one of the most wonderful I've ever had.

An Orange and Blue and Black and Panther Blue Christmas

2011-12-28T23:59:00.000-06:00

http://www.mrhump.blogspot.com/2011/12/auburn-christmas-wish-come-true.html

War Eagle.

We Let In Light And We Banish Shade

2011-12-28T09:00:00.000-06:00

There is always a song that dominates my Christmas. In 2009, it was "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." Last year, it was "Do You Hear What I Hear?" And 2011, was no different. However, this year there were two that got to me....in vastly different ways.

Every stinkin' time I turned on the radio, I heard, "Do They Know It's Christmas Time?" And let me be frank here. I really don't like this song. I don't think it's an ACTUAL Christmas classic. It's too-pop. It's too trendy. It's too preachy. I've never EVER liked this song. But every time I turned on the radio this Christmas there it was. "Here's to you....raise a glass for everyone." But knowing me and my absolute love of all things Christmas, I couldn't bring myself to change the channel.

And that's when I really stopped to listen to the lyrics for the first time ever. And I realized just how appropriate they are, especially for this past year. In 2011, it seemed like as the economy started to rebound, people started looking outside of their protected little world at the injustices that stood before them. I watched as lots of my friends, my cousin included, expanded their families past traditional boundaries. I watched as my dear friend planned an orphanage in a slum. The TIME magazine person of the year was the Protester, and while I think that was a dumb selection, it represents a movement in our society that says we don't have to just live with norm because that's what we've always done. We can stand for something and revolutionize society.

"It's Christmas time. There's no need to be afraid. At Christmas time, we let in light and we banish shade. And in our world of plenty, we can spread a smile of joy! Throw your arms around the world at Christmas time!"

So.....I guess I don't hate that song like I did. I still don't think it's a Christmas song. But in a world where we have Occupy New York and Occupy Chicago and Occupy Middle American Town, it makes sense that a Christmas song about helping people and feeding the mouths and souls of the world would be the most prevalently played song on my Christmas list.

But in being touched.......and I mean REALLY touched to my soul......well, that didn't happen until Christmas Eve.

I've never been to a Christmas Even candlelight service before. That's just not something that we do. But I've wanted to go to one for the past few years so badly. I can't even describe how much I begged my mom and dad to go with me. But for one reason or another, we never did.

But I went this year. And it was one of the most amazing experiences of my entire life.

First of all, there was just so much beauty in seeing a huge group of people singing Christmas carols about the birth of Christ. It was magical....and I don't use that word lightly. And while the traditional lighting of the candles and singing "Silent Night" was gorgeous, I will admit that I cried during the congregation singing "The First Noel."

I have some ties to this song. I had to do a report on it in 8th grade in Mrs. Freeman/Hinton's Bible class. And perhaps that's the reason why I just wept at how beautiful the moment was. There I sat in front of a gorgeous lighted Christmas tree listening to a simple song about the birth of my Savior. And despite your views on the true meaning of Christmas (which I'm not willing to debate here) I was overcome with appreciation and gratitude. Despite everything and every trial that 2011 brought, the simple fact was that the Lord came to the earth and was born....in a simple manger on a simple night under simple circumstances. Yet there was nothing simple about it. It was magnificent and majestic and stupendous.

Then let us all with one accord
Sing praises to our heavenly Lord
That hath made heaven and earth of nought,

And with his blood mankind hath bought:

It was an amazing experience and one I completely intend to duplicate every year further.

Gift of the Modern Day Magi

2011-12-22T13:00:00.000-06:00

My dad once got my mom a parrot for Christmas. They had gone to a dinner party at their then brother-in-law's mother's house where my mom was fascinated by her pet parrot. According to my mom's version of the story, she thought the bird was cool at the dinner, but she never really wanted one of her own. But my dad translated that to "Wouldn't she love a parrot for Christmas?!?" and he went and purchased one. Christmas was on a Saturday that year, so they had to wait until the following Monday to return the said bird.

My father always has the best of intentions when it comes to gifts, but sometimes, like the minds of most men, it goes astray. And from the first Christmas after my 16th birthday, he and I have worked out a system when it comes to buying gifts for my mom. We discuss the different gift options, he gives me the cash to pick out just the right thing, and then I go wrap them "from the both of us." I think my mom would agree that during the last ten years of her marriage to my father, she has received the best Christmas presents of their 36 year marriage and 55 year relationship. (Yes, my parents met when they were six. It's slightly disgusting.)

But...can I tell a little secret? (Mom, close the browser if you are reading this.) (I don't think you are considering that the Internet is down in Vincent at the moment.) I am SO excited about what my dad picked out for my mom this year. And what she picked out for him. Since I know the gifts on both sides, I honestly can't wait for our traditional Christmas Eve gift opening session when they open their gifts to each other. Both have asked me to make sure that the other opens their gift last as the last gift of Christmas is usually saved for the biggest gift of Christmas....you know, that big ticket item that MAKES Christmas.

For example, in 1993, I got my Molly doll for Christmas. That box sat under the tree for weeks, just taunting me. My mom had used blue paper and made it look almost irresistible for a kid to have to look at for 24 days. And when we sat down for Christmas Eve, I begged to open that box from the moment we sat down. But mom and dad saved it....making it the very last one I opened. And I don't remember a single thing Santa brought me that year. But I remember that Molly doll and how much I loved her.

So this Christmas, I hold the power. I keep debating which one should go last. I don't know what I'm going to go with. Thoughts? Do you think my mom would be better of with HER surprise first? Or should I give it to my dad because I think he can keep a straight face longer?

I'm so conflicted, but I'm SO excited.

Christmas Christmas Time Is Here!

2011-12-22T10:30:00.000-06:00

Where have I been? Well, Katie over here has had a ridiculously busy December. It really is the most wonderful time of the year for me. I love it. All the sparkle and the glitter and the lights. I swear, it just makes me ridiculously happy.

I think my love for glitter is apparent in my Christmas tree decorations this year. I love how the blue reminds me of snow and it goes well with all of my glittery Christmas princess ornaments. If you look closely, you will see the one that this sweet girl brought me back from her adventures in Orlando. I put my brand new Walking Ariel Christmas ornament front and center in my tree.

You should also notice how each gift has been color-coded to match the tree appropriately. It is all blue and white paper with a few bits of pink in there. I'm really thrilled with how lovely my Christmas tree looks this year.

I also took an excursion to the Smoky Mountains to live in a snow globe for a few days. No, not literally. But that's how I feel when I'm there for Christmas. So much sparkle. So much glitter. It's just all around good for the soul. And I saw my all time favorite Dollywood Christmas show no fewer than four times. It's the last year for the guy who plays the father in the play. He's been the father for the past 20 something years. I don't really remember what the play is like without him in it. You shall be missed, Scott Self!

And of course, no trip to Gatlinburg would be complete without a trip to the Pancake Pantry. Although, as much as I love this place and the Christmas-y way I feel when I'm there by the big tree and the maple syrup and lights, I have to say that it is a completely Republican establishment. I read a review online that says they refused to give a handicapped girl the Bears in Snow meal off the child's menu because she was over the maximum children's menu age of 12. The phrase "No bears in snow for you" with the accent of the Soup Nazi quickly became a staple of our trip.

(Picture I took of the big, big Christmas tree. Not eating my Bears in Snow.)

Of course, I've had fun while being IN Birmingham too. I knew I was going to have some fun holiday swanky things to do with my friends. One of those included flirting with the cute waiter at Melting Pot with M. I complained to him in my best flirty voice that I didn't like the color of my stick that he gave me for my cheese fondue. I told him I wanted a bright fun color for my next course. Of course, Cute Waiter Boy decided to one up my challenge and brought me quite the assortment for my final course.

I also went to a cooking class with Libby and my new friend Abby. La Tavolo is a cooking school in the outskirts of Birmingham where we were taught how to stuff a traditional Italian/Sicilian turkey with authentic stuffing and lentils. While I'm definitely not a chef (or a baker apparently...check back for that story later) I had an amazing time. And look how yummy our stuffed turkey turned out!

Don't we look all professional in the aprons we were given? It was a really fun experience, and one that I would like to do again....but maybe on a dish I would actually cook again. I would LOVE to learn how to make risotto. I've never mastered it. I remember Work J would talk about making it for him and his hubby for dinner all the time.....and I was always so jealous because it sounded so yummy. Maybe I can take that course in the new year.

Plus, I've been busy making sure Little Miss looked adorable at Christmas time. Don't you just adore this little outfit I got for her? She kinda looks like a little Christmas fairy. And besides, all little girls NEED a tutu for Christmas. It wasn't an option.

And I acted like I was about Little Miss's age the other day. On Saturday, as I was sitting on my couch watching the "12 Dates of Christmas" when I heard the fire truck go through my neighborhood. It was so loud and was obviously stopping right in front of my house, so I ran to see what was going on. And sure enough, the fire truck was there..........and SO WAS SANTA!

I've never seen a Santa on the fire truck before. They didn't do that in Vincent, where I grew up. I stood there, a grown woman, in my pj's waiving at Santa as he drove by my house. It was an amazing moment. (And I'll admit. I kept thinking how glad I was that I knew Ly's husband was at home with Little Miss. I certainly wouldn't have heard the end of it if he had actually SEEN how excited I was over his friend Santa.)

So....as you can see, I've had a busy couple of days. Lots of over-stimulation and stress and magic of Christmas and sparkle and.....well, I've just been spent. But I wouldn't trade it for the world. So far, it's been an amazing Christmas, which was especially needed after how hard this year has been.

Consider yourself officially updated. Now, let's get to the really GOOD stories of Christmas, right?

Stream of Consciousness

2011-12-07T14:57:00.000-06:00

*I'm boring lately.
*I have nothing really exciting to blog about.
*I'm OK with that.
*No drama equals happy me.
*I did put up my Christmas tree.
*I have a pink one in my bedroom.
*It's my first tree in my bedroom ever.
*I'm excited about that.
*I miss Christmas at my old job.
*I miss Work BP and Work BD and Work L.
*Dinner with the Work B's makes me miss them more.
*I'm totally loving seeing my old friends around the holidays.
*I wish I would get that Kindle for Christmas.
*I also want a Phillip Lutzenkirchen jersey.
*I also want Darren Criss for Christmas.
*I'm in love with him.
*I'm too old for a crush but I don't care.
*I would marry him and we could have cute, singing babies.
*Those babies would have amazing hair.
*I'm so ready for my trip to Gatlinburg for Christmas.
*I'm just hoping I don't have travel issues getting there.
*My car is clean for the first time in 2009.
*I found my birthday cards from 2007 in there.
*All my Christmas shopping is done except for 2 gifts.
*They can all fit in my super clean car.
*I'll be back to story form soon.
*Til then, have a great day.

The Facebook Status

2011-12-06T07:54:00.002-06:00

Other people's material is so much better than mine right now.

http://hilariousandhandsomesportsguys.wordpress.com/2010/12/19/characters-we-hate-the-facebook-status/

Enjoy.

Disney Domination

2011-12-01T07:46:00.000-06:00

I love Disney. Duh. I love it so much that often times I don't look at it through realistic glasses. I go and smell the popcorn and see the lights and the fireworks and I have this romantic magical cloud over my head when I'm there.

Not everyone has the same perspective that I do. And sometimes they write about it. And it's hysterical.

http://adamsdisneydomination2011.wordpress.com/

He is the principle at the high school where I graduated from, and he is one of the most sarcastically hilarious people I've ever met. He is currently at Disney now, and his pictures and tweets and blogs about his experiences have entertained me all week.

And although I love Disney as much as he despises it, I have to say that I'm completely digging his stories.

The Thanksgiving Miracle Cake

2011-11-28T11:30:00.000-06:00

I should never be allowed in the kitchen.

The week before Thanksgiving, I decided that I was going to make a pumpkin-cinnamon cake for our annual Thanksgiving lunch. I had this amazing recipe (that I did NOT find on pinterest) that I was dying to try out: the icing was Cinnamon-Toast Crunch Cream Cheese icing and the cake was from pilsbury.com. I thought the two would go perfectly together, so last Sunday, I went to my local Publix and started getting my ingredients.

The cake recipe called for pumpkin bread mix, a can of pumpkin, eggs, pecans, oil, milk and two different spices: nutmeg and pumpkin pie spice. I have a very limited spice collection, so I was super excited to find out that both the nutmeg and the pumpkin pie mini-spices were on sale for $.49 each. I grabbed both of them, super proud of myself for getting them both at such low, low prices.

Tuesday night had been deemed cake making night, and I got out all of the needed items. I had both of my mixing bowls ready: one for the icing and one for the cake batter. I got out my handy-dandy mixer that's helped me through many a meal since 2008. I had my cream cheese sitting out so it would be at a good room temperature. Nothing could go wrong, right?

HA.

I decided to make the cake batter first since I was going to attempt my very first layer cake. I put in my eggs, the boxed powder, the pecans, the oil, the milk.....and finally I decided it was time for the spices. I put in a healthy portion of nutmeg and I grabbed the pumpkin pie spice.....or so I thought. Right before I started shaking the powder into the mixture, I noticed it was not the warm autumnal brown that pumpkin pie spice should be. No, the powder I had in my hand was snowy white. I hadn't purchased pumpkin spice.....I'd bought something COMPLETELY different.

Yeah, that's cream of tartar. I got totally disgusted because although I know it's not the same thing.....visions of tartar sauce started dancing in my head and I became so grossed out. I panicked a little because I didn't want to go to the store for more spice, but I knew the cake needed something else. So I got out the handy-dandy cinnamon and plopped a lot in there and prayed for the best.

So once the cake went in, it was time make the icing. The recipe is pretty simple and basic. 2 stick of melted butter. 2 packages of cream cheese. 1.5 box of powdered confection sugar. 1 dash of vanilla. 1 generous helping of cinnamon. 1 cup of crunched Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal folded in last. This seems excessive, but I was going to need LOTS of icing since it was a layer cake, so I doubled the recipe.

I put in the butter, the cream cheese and the powdered sugar and started mixing. Before I knew what was even happening, powdered sugar exploded on my kitchen cabinet. It literally went everywhere. My navy Auburn shirt looked like it had been drenched in snow. Realizing that my icing was going to need some milk or something, I took a survey of my refrigerator. All my milk was used on the cake batter. However, I did have a can of Eagle Brand Milk. "Hey. It's sweet, right?" I thought to myself. So I begin to open the can to pour a generous helping into the icing to make it a little smoother.

However, I'm an idiot, remember? And this idiot left the mixer running while I opened the can of milk. My hand-held mixer. My hand-held mixer that was grinding against my mixing bowl. My hand-held mixer that had powdered sugar flying all over my kitchen. I heard the metal grinding against plastic and before I could get over there to stop the madness, my 3 year old hand-mixer had bit the proverbial ~~powdered sugary~~ dust.

Thankfully, the Eagle Brand Milk helped and I got the mixture liquid-y enough. Although, if you stop and think about it, that much sugar in icing is enough to safely slip even the most healthy person into a diabetic coma. Geez.

Panicked, I surveyed the mess. Thankfully, most of the icing was blended enough, so all that was left was blending in the cereal. Personally, I think the cake turned out nicely, despite the cream of tartar and the death of my mixer.

Please notice, however, the stand that the cake was placed on. I didn't think the whole "I have to carry this across town" aspect of the project, and I put the stupid thing on my pretty cake stand. Unfortunately, that cake stand doesn't travel very well, which is obvious if you notice the really skinny bottom. I carefully padded a place for it in my car and I held on to the top very securely on my way to my Auntie J's house. I'd be lying if I said I didn't breathe a sigh of relief when I pulled to the front of her house.

Baby Cousin A and my father agreed with me. They both said it was yummy stuff. And A and I split what was left of the cake once our holiday meal was finished. I took my half of the cake, still on the cake stand, put it back in it's padded spot in my car and headed back to my house.

I tried to drive slow. I really did. And I guess I wasn't AS concerned about it getting to my house as I was getting it to Auntie J's because it made it there so perfectly. But that didn't stop me from having to slam on my breaks turning on to the main road in front of my house after a car stopped suddenly in front of me. And there went the cake.

And if I didn't have the picture to prove it, I wouldn't have believed it myself. But the cake flipped over on it's side and landed perfectly in the glass dome of the cake stand. It was almost as if I had placed it there myself. I sat at the traffic light that I had slammed my breaks at just staring at how perfectly the cake flipped into the cake dome.

When I got home, I rolled the cake back on its side and on to the cake stand once again. It was a complete and utter mess, but it was still in tact, which I found to be a success, especially considering at this point I had deemed the cake cursed and just wanted it out of my house.

It's a miracle that cake even made it to see the day after Thanksgiving with all the mishaps surrounding it. Will I try to make the cake again for another holiday? Absolutely. Will I use cream of tartar and that same cake stand? Absolutely not.

It's Thanksgiving, Charlie Brown

2011-11-24T08:00:00.000-06:00

Marcie: Don't feel bad, Chuck. Peppermint Patty didn't mean all those things she said. Actually, she really likes you.

Charlie Brown: I don't feel bad for myself, I just feel bad because I've ruined everyone's Thanksgiving.

Marcie: But Thanksgiving is more than eating, Chuck. You heard what Linus was saying out there. Those early Pilgrims were thankful for what had happened to them, and we should be thankful, too. We should just be thankful for being together. I think that's what they mean by 'Thanksgiving,' Charlie Brown.

This year, I'm thankful for the good and the bad, the happy and the sad, the painful and the peaceful, the progress and the setbacks and for every lesson I've learned along the way in experiencing each of these.

"O come, let us sing unto the Lord: let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation. Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving, and make a joyful noise unto him with psalms. For the Lord is a great God, and a great King above all gods. In his hand are the deep places of the earth: the strength of the hills is his also. The sea is his, and he made it: and his hands formed the dry land. O come, let us worship and bow down: let us kneel before the Lord our maker." ~Psalm 95:1-6

Breaking Down Breaking Dawn: Part 1

2011-11-18T11:11:00.001-06:00

Remember this?

Seems like only yesterday I was telling you all about how wonderful my midnight experience with "Eclipse" was, doesn't it? November 2011 seemed like so far away then, and I have to admit that it is hard for me to believe that the new one is already out and in theaters. It's been 17 months since that night in June, and my goodness--SO much has happened since then in both mine and Ly's life. The biggest thing being, of course.....Little Miss.

It was natural that Little Miss be included in all of our festivities last night. After all, back in January when her mommy discovered she was pregnant, she told me by saying and I quote, "I promise what I'm about to tell you will in no way affect us seeing Breaking Dawn in November." It was almost as if the way she was announced brought her into our strange little circle that values literary vampires and sappy romances. Kid is destined to be a drama queen and a sci-fi-romcom junkie if we have anything to do with it.

So, in my faux Aunt-dom-ship, I felt it was my duty to purchase Little Miss's very first Twilight shirt. Her mother and I have proudly purchased theme shirts for each movie, including my personal favorite: matching Vampire Baseball League jerseys with our favorite characters names on the back. (Mine? Rosalie, cause she's got a little spice to her. Ly's? Alice, cause she's the nicer of the two, I suppose.) And I wouldn't be a good Fairy Godmother if I didn't make sure Little Miss had her own Twilight jersey on, now would I?

Yeah, the kid's shirt says Vampire Baseball League on it. And yup, that's a matching hair bow. But, buddy, she was not happy about her photo shoot. See, Little Miss is a diva. And she was woken from her diva sleep to take pictures with us. And she was NOT happy about it. But it was important that we document her outfit, because years from now, she will be thrilled that she has a picture of her jersey.....including the picture of the BACK of her jersey that has the name of the baby of the series and the "year" that she was born. Isn't that adorable?

Ain't she cute? She was quite the fussy miss last night, and I think it's because deep down she wanted to go with us to the movie. But alas, she was left at home with her grandmama and granddaddy and off we went to the movie. This time, we had friends join us in the Twilight-goodness fun. Ly's old roommate K and dear Libby decided to meet us for this round, and we had SO much fun. Ly and I had picked out our shirt for this movie right after Little Miss made her appearance. (Fun side note: Ly and I actually discussed our shirt purchase on the day that she went into labor with her. Further proof Little Miss is a Twi-Baby and wanted to go with us last night.)

My biggest regret of last night was that there was no picture of all four of us looking super cute in our shirts. But here are a couple so you can see our outfits.

Ly has better pictures, but you get the gist. If you look closely, our shirts had "glitter" around the groom. And we got lots of fun compliments on our shirts from other movie guests, which is always a plus. We arrived at the theater around 9:30, thinking we would be among the first people there. There was virtually no line at that point, and we thought we would be able to get whatever seat we wanted. We walked through the theme-park-esque line that had been set up and gave our ticket to the ~~bouncer~~ ticket taker. There, we were given our theater assignment.

At our particular Rave, there were theater workers outside each theater checking your hand for your assignment as you went in. Basically, if we had decided to go in Theater 5 instead of Theater 14, we would have been told to go back to our theater. It all felt very Hunger Games/Distrcit-esque. And when we got inside where the seats were, we found that our theater was almost 3/4ths full..........at two and a half hours early.

We all sat and chatted for a bit, but then Ly and I decided that to make it through the evening, we were going to need popcorn and highly caffeinated soda. When we ventured out, our non-existent line from when we walked in had grown exponentially.

It stretched from one side of the building to the other and into the little alcove where there are usually tables. There were mobs of people, and they were all as nuts as we were. It was extremely exciting. After getting our official Breaking Dawn cup.....

(Because if you are going to a movie at midnight in costume, you might as well buy the $5.75 collector's cup)

....and we were on our way to watch the movie. Was it the best of the series? Eh. Probably not. There were moments that were a little bit cheesy, even for my cheestastic tastes. I still love it with all my heart, but it was definitely a step back after the completely well-done "Eclipse." But then again, that one was going to be hard to beat regardless.

It didn't matter that I'd been sick for the past week and a half. It didn't matter that I've been going to bed like an old woman at 9:45. It didn't matter that Libby had to be at work at dawn the next morning or that both Ly and K had little ones at home. We were there at midnight, braving the crowd to prove that we are Twilighters. And we weren't the only ones who felt that way.

Would I do it again? Sure. And I will. November 16, 2012. For the last time in the Twilight Saga. Ly and I have already discussed arrangements and have already thought about t-shirt ideas. It's our last time to go big or go home.

But enough about next year. Whose ready to go see it again with me now?

Awarded

2011-11-17T08:38:00.000-06:00

I got a blog award!

It's for people who have entertaining blogs and less than 200 followers! I was super excited when Ashley gave me this one, especially considering that Ashley and I have become friends this year. She randomly found my blog and poof--instant virtual friendship. I honestly and deeply believe that if she and I lived closer together we would 1) be best friends and 2) get into some serious trouble together. No doubt.

So super thanks to Ashley for the award, and for being a super cool new friend this year! I'm just going to spread the blog love to one person, and that's my sweet friend Ericka. Listen, go check out her blog and her ministry. She has amazed me with all of the ways she has helped children across the world this year.

I think we all have those causes that are near and dear to our hearts, and it's obvious talking to her that her heart breaks for these sweet babies. So....go check her out when you can. And thanks to Ashley for the blog love!

The Tale of the Cheating Prince: Part Two

2011-11-16T08:00:00.000-06:00

I have made it no secret about my ~~obsession~~ love for Walking Ariel. I mean, I made a special trip to the Magic Kingdom on this last trip just to get my picture made with her. (The mug, mousepad and Christmas ornament with the picture on it will be here in 4-6 weeks.)

(Just kidding.)

(Maybe.)

If you recall, that's also when we dealt with the cheating Snow Prince/Prince Eric. I'd be lying if I said that the reveal of the unfaithful Disney prince didn't overshadow my first meet-and-greet with the infamous Walking Ariel. But it did make a good story, right?

So please imagine my delight when my dear friend Work BP sent me this image today. She snapped this picture of her adorable 3-year-old princess and sent it to me when Princess A met THE Walking Ariel and Prince Eric. Does the gentleman look familiar to you?

Looks like Snow Prince is staying with Princess Ariel a little bit longer. Wonder if Snow White is the least bit jealous?

Darren Criss vs. The Mystery Boyfriend (The Battle of Good Hair)

2011-11-15T16:00:00.001-06:00

I had the best dream ever last night.

I mean, after I had watched that heart-breaking episode of "How I Met Your Mother," I shouldn't have been surprised that I was going to dream of love and romance and stuff.

And it was so good that I had to share it. My only regret was that I wish I had told it before breakfast so my mother's old wives' tale of "a dream comes true if you tell it before you eat breakfast" could come into play.

Let's begin shall we:

I was in college. I had long, reddish brown hair that was longer than my hair has ever been in my entire life, and I was extremely proud. (Weird that I remember that part, huh?) Anyways, there was this mixer in the student act that evening, and I walked over there with a group of people I didn't know well. We were going to play this getting to know you game, and I got assigned to a group with the cutest boy I'd ever seen in my entire life. He looked SO familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on why he looked like someone that I knew.

We played this game where we all had to match up these random objects in pairs, and I ended up with this dog house necklace that I can describe in perfect detail, and the cute boy had a necklace that was a dog bone, meaning that our pairs were together. We were supposed to play a getting to know you game, and we ended up talking for what seemed like hours (although in my dream, I'm sure it was mere seconds.) As the mixer ended, the cute boy, whose name I had learned earlier was Jack, told me that he wanted to share a secret with me. He bent down, kissed me on the forehead and said, "My name isn't really Jack. It's Darren. I'm here in hiding from Hollywood cause I just wanted a normal life."

And then it clicked. I was standing in this unfamiliar student activities center with Darren Criss.

It was then in my dream that I learned I had a boyfriend who I apparently had been dating for a really long time. He was cute too, and he had excellent hair, which we all know is extremely important to me (and probably why I love Darren Criss in real life too. His hair is just lovely.) Jack-Darren told me that he wanted to go out with me, but that we had to sneak around because he didn't want people in Hollywood to know he was going to school in Alabama. So I told him to come to my hometown and we would hang out there.

Apparently, my boyfriend had moved into my grandmother's house and lived next door to me and my parents and he caught me sneaking out to Jack-Darren's truck and a verbal fight ensued.

Thing is...I woke up before I realized who won.

I've done dream analysis on here before. But other than the "How I Met Your Mother" infatuation I've felt since last night, I have no clue in the world why I dreamed this dream. I mean, sure, Darren Criss is on my Top 5 List of Favorite Men Ever Born. But still, it's a Monday. There was no new "Glee." I didn't listen to him sing on my iPod at the gym. I'm so confused! I have so many questions, like:

*Why was my hair so important to me in the dream?
*What college was I at that would have a small Freshman mixer?
*Why in the world did I dream of Darren Criss?
*Why did he go by the name Jack?
*Who was this boyfriend of mine and where can I find him and his fantastic hair?
*Can I pick up this tale right where I left it off when I go to sleep tonight?

How I Met Your Mother Hangover

2011-11-15T09:53:00.000-06:00

A tv show broke my heart last night.

It has been a good long time since I've felt this kind of reaction to a 30 minutes show. I mean, I've cried at some episodes of "Glee" and gotten goosebumps when ~~my love~~ my favorite performer, Darren Criss, sings in his effervescent style with his charismatic smile. But the last time I felt so involved and invested in a television show was May of 2010 when the shooter when nuts inside Seattle Grace/Mercy West Hospital on Grey's Anatomy. And last night was one of those moments. It's still haunting me this morning. And I guess that's what good TV is.

I started watching "How I Met Your Mother" in 2005. I even remember where I was when I saw my first episode. I was on the elliptical at the Women's Fitness Gym in Auburn, Alabama. It reminded me a lot of "Friends" but with this whole mystery aspect to it, which I kinda loved. Seven years later, I'm still following the life and times of Ted, Marshall, Lilly.....and the two people who got to me last night: Barney and Robin.

Look, I won't lie. I didn't love them together when they first put these two in a relationship on the show. It seemed too forced...and it was also over quicker than it began. As fans, we spent more time seeing them get over their breakup than we did seeing them together. But, when the season finale came around last year, and we learned that 1) Robin still loved Barney and 2) Barney is getting married (!!!!!) in the near future, I couldn't help but hope these two would work it out. And it seemed to be going that direction.....until last night.

SPOILER ALERT:

Robin asked Barney and her current boyfriend Kevin the same question: "I'm so messed up. Why do you like me?"

Kevin gave her the answer of "I don't care what you've done in the past. I want to see yourself the way I see you. And I love you."

Barney replied honestly and said, "Because you are almost as messed up as I am."

Ok, I know Kevin's answer was ultimately more romantic, and I get why she felt safer with Kevin than Barney....because Barney had hurt her before. But for the first time in his life, Barney gave up everything to be with Robin. He was willing to give up singledom and his current girlfriend all to be with his "soulmate" as he called her. And when Robin walked in the bar after choosing Kevin, my heart ached for a fictional character. And I'll admit, I started to cry as we watched him clean up the romantic setting he had planned in Robin's room for her.

And I'm still thinking about this dumb show today. I mean, I honestly feel like it's a TV show hangover. I can't think about anything else. It makes me sick at my stomach how sad it all was, and I just keep wanting to watch and re-watch the show over and over again. (I'm even thinking of downloading the episode on iTunes just so I can always have it.) I know I'm a sick individual. But I can't help it. It broke my heart.

It also got me thinking. Do you really want someone in life who idealizes you and sees you as this all perfect figure, like Kevin sees Robin? Or do you want someone who sees all your flaws and knows you are ultimately messed up and accepts you as perfect for them? Perhaps I'm blinded by the hollow feeling in my gut this morning over fictional characters, but I think I'd rather have someone know my flaws and see me as their perfect match because of them than completely ignore them all together.

All I know is....I have plans next Monday at 7 for some Can't-Miss-TV. And I know that's exactly the reaction the producers wanted me to have.

(If you have never watched this show before, do so. It's incredible. Season 5 was kind of a let down, but the rest of the show has been fantastic. It's legend-wait for it-dary.)

The Tale of the Mystery Knife

2011-11-12T08:22:00.000-06:00

How about one more fun Disney story before I chalk it up to one "fantastmically aweseome" trip? And that last story could be about how M and I ate our way through the Epcot Food and Wine Festival by eating every cheese dish available. It could be about how M got really stressed during the Georgia/Florida game and threatened the Florida fan who taunted her because of her Georgia shirt. Or, it could be about the Alabama fan who literally BOO'd me with no prompting at a all as I walked into Hollywood Studios because I had on my lucky Glitter Auburn shirt.

I thought I'd end up blogging about our new friend Mark who was the most obnoxious bus driver I've ever met in my life. But then, the more I thought about it, I realized that if you need to talk to completely strangers on a bus for 1 and a half hours about Packer football and the cold weather in Orlando, then perhaps you don't need to become blog fodder because you life kinda sounds pitiful. So, despite M's looks that could kill and me spitting out water at her irritated smart aleck comments, I'll leave the poor Packer fan alone.

So, I think my last story is going to actually come from last weekend. We'd been home a week, and I felt it was finally time to unpack my luggage. The last time I flew with this particular bag was when I went to see Baby Cousin A during her internship in 2009. Ironically, M and I went to Disney almost two years (and two weeks) from the last time I'd flown on a plane to Disney. So that particular bag had not been used in two years.

Since we were literally down there for 48 hours, I didn't pack that much. I packed an abundance of t-shirts, 4 pairs of Nike shorts and a pair of blue jeans. So my big ole bag that had been used for years during my Southern Living At Home trips was packed lighter than it had ever been. But I'd still found some leftover jewelry and a Walt Disney Show Guide from October 2009 and a map of the All Star Sports Resort in the pockets of the bag when I packed it.

So.....back to last Saturday. I'm unpacking all of my things, and I notice that my stuff seemed a little shuffled. I didn't think too much of it, because remember, my bag was only half full. It could have easily been shaken in transport since there was so much room in it.

I made a wash pile and a clean pile and so on and so on until I was at the bottom of the bag. And that's when I found it.

Yeah, that's a plastic Army knife. Found it in the bottom of my bag. And it's most definitely not mine.

First thing I did was call my dad and ask him if he ever had one of these. I'd used my bag when I traveled with him in May of 2008. Nope. I didn't figure it was Baby Cousin A's, and M claims it's not hers. And I'm relatively sure that this wasn't something I got during my SLAH trips.

I can't help but wonder if this some how got in my bag during the security check at the airport. And I'm not sure if it happened in Birmingham or Orlando because I was only in Disney....like I said...for 48 hours and I didn't unpack my bag.

Regardless, I obviously came home with an extra souvenir. I'm just not sure where it came from or how it got there.

Any body want to chime in here with their guesses on how the mystery plastic knife got in my bag?

11/11/11 at 11:11

2011-11-11T11:11:00.000-06:00

It's 11/11/11 at 11:11. Make a wish!

And if you missed the AM Wish Period, make sure you check your clocks again tonight! I know what my wish is! What's yours?!?!?!?!

My Quest To Be A Disney Princess

2011-11-11T07:30:00.001-06:00

If you haven't been to Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween Party, you need to go. Next year. Don't hesitate. Just go. Honestly, best 70 bucks I've spent all year.

Shocked? Yeah, me too. I did the Mickey's Very Merry Christmas Party in 2006 and in 2008 and loved every second of it....the snow on Main Street, the hot chocolate and cookies. And when Baby Cousin A called me from Disney back in 2009 and said that the Halloween party was incredible, I'll admit that I didn't really believe her. I mean, I have a irrational fear of bats. And there are bats EVERYWHERE during the Halloween party. I've seen pictures. I know that the cast members have bats on their heads during the party. I wasn't spending money on an entire night devoted to my least favorite holiday of the year.

But when M and I were going to be down there, it seemed relatively stupid NOT to do the party. I mean, why wouldn't I go if it was going to fit in well with our schedule? Plus, we would be at the Magic Kingdom til midnight with the party, so why not just go ahead and go and if the bats got too bad , we could just ride the rides, right?

Um, the party was a blast. Baby Cousin A was unequivocally and whole-heartedly correct. Best Disney special event EVER.

First of all, I knew people dressed up. So, like I said before, M and I had shirts made and wore these cute shorts and dressed as modern day Snow White and Ariel. And honestly, I felt like a total nerd on the bus over to the Magic Kingdom because no one was dressed up. But the second we got off the bus, I realized how out of place I looked. Not because I was dressed up but because everyone around me was in full and complete Halloween costume. I looked like I was theme park ready. Everyone else? Well, let's just say I saw some full skirts and massive movie worthy makeup. Within the first few seconds we were there, I saw a lady dressed as Belle in her yellow dress......but not just one of those Wal-Mart costumes you could find. Oh no. This woman had on a full hoop skirt with a long sausage curl wig on top of her head. (My biggest regret of the trip was not following her through the turnstiles at the entrance. I'm sure she had struggles fitting through that tiny opening.)

I saw a man dressed as a headless horsemen.....with his baby dressed as the pumpkin head. I saw an Ariel in her "Kiss The Girl" dress that looked better than the Ariel that I met. I saw a Flynn Ryder and a Rapunzel meet the real Flynn Ryder and Rapunzel and had difficulty figuring out which one was which.

Second of all....all the free candy you could want. There were candy stops everywhere. When I have kids someday, I think this would be a great option for Halloween. I mean, it's safe and they get candy and you aren't going to random houses. I mean, awesome.

And thirdly, the parade was ridiculous. Two Pirate floats. Haunted Mansion dancers (which is my favorite part of the ride....and the parade. Characters in costume. It was so awesome.

And I made a decision while standing in the Seven Dwarf line and watching all of the adults in authentic garb around me. I too was going to dress in a legit costume someday. I am going to walk through those Magic Kingdom gates to the Halloween party dressed as MY favorite Disney character. I'm going to go all out and DO THIS. I'm going to get a costume like this.....or this.........or even this. All I'll have to do is rob a bank first....but I'm going to be a princess at Disney World. Someday.

So I'm adding "Be A Disney World Princess" to my bucket list because I now know it is attainable.

And I'll leave you with my favorite costume of all from the Mickey's Not So Scary Halloween Party. As M and I left the Magic Kindgom, we saw a pair of fairies. More specifically, one was dressed as Tinker Belle and one was dressed as one of her little friends. And the fairies were holding hands. And being extremely affectionate with one another. And I might not have thought this was strange....except the one in the Tinker Belle costume was a male....holding his girlfriends hand. Here's my best picture snap. Enjoy.

An Open Letter: John-David Duggar (Part Seis)

2011-11-09T08:00:00.004-06:00

Dear John-David Duggar,

Wow. A sixth letter. Honestly, when I wrote my first letter to you years ago, I thought, "Hey, he's a cool guy. He needs some more attention on the show" I NEVER thought I would be writing a sixth blog directly to you. But here we are.

Your family will no longer have "InsertNumberHere"-TEEN children. You are leaving your teens behind you and moving onward to bigger and better things in your 20's. In my personal experience, my 20's have infinitely better than my teen years, so here's hoping that your family's step into the 20's will be equally as pleasant.

JD, I'm thrilled for your Momma. I mean, I couldn't do it. But I'm so glad she's not ending on an odd number. That would have been horrible. And listen, don't listen to all that flack you guys are getting about "adding another child to the brood" or "stimulating the world's over population." That's all hogwash. (Did you like that Arkansas Hogs reference? It was just for you, John David.)

Look, I know a lady who has two of the meanest children I've ever met in my entire life. They are rude and hateful and just generally nasty to be around, and that's just the four year old girl. Don't get me started on her brother. Your mom and dad have raised relatively normal, well-behaved children who love the Lord and who just want to go out and do some good in the world. It's a testament to their parenting that they have raised 19.....soon to be 20.....children who are well-adjusted and contributing members of society. Momma Michelle is doing better than that lady that I know with the two hellions, and she has ten times the children.

I have to say, though, John-David, I was hoping for an announcement about your engagement. Nothing would have warmed my heart more than to see Erin Bates sitting beside you on the Today Show couch, holding your hand while completely chaperoned by your 18 siblings plus Anna and her spawn and announcing a Very-Duggar Wedding Part 2. I already had been floating ideas in my head for a John David Duggar Wedding Viewer Party. I even had a party menu planned out, complete with Tater Tots in mass quantities. But alas, I will save that for some day in the future. But rest assured, I will have a party in your honor once the big day comes. (P.S. Why don't you just call Erin Bates' dad and get the courting started? She's super cute, JD!)

Until then, JD, I wish you and your whole family lots of happiness with the new baby on the way. Could you do me a HUGE favor though? Please tell your mother how happy I am that she's planning a C-Section for this baby. I don't think I could take watching another Duggar be born on the toilet.

Sincerely,
The Biggest 20 Kids And Counting Fan In The Whole World

(P.S. Now that I've crossed meeting Walking Ariel off my bucket list, my next big goal in life is to meet a Duggar. Just sayin.....)

The Tale of the Cheating Prince

2011-11-02T12:20:00.000-05:00

I have loved Ariel since I was five. I used to tell people my favorite princess was Belle or Cinderella to sound more intellectual or whimsical, respectfully, but deep down, my heart has a soft spot for the mermaid with the fiery red hair and the rebellious spirit. I'd met her at Disney World before in her Grotto, and there my princess friend instructed Baby Cousin A and I to have fun on our feet today and to keep swimming!

After they announced plans to get rid of Ariel's Grotto during the Fantasyland reconstruction, I started seeing pictures of my favorite princess on legs. Walking Ariel was a rarity at WDW, and I knew I wanted my picture made with her. I read somewhere that during the reconstruction she was going to start appearing at the Norwegian restaurant and at Adventureland, and I was determined that on my next visit to the Kingdom, Walking Ariel and I were going to become best friends.

M and I traveled down to Disney on Friday and had tickets to go to Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween party that night. We spent a good chunk of our early afternoon at the Animal Kingdom, and by the time we had gotten to the Magic Kingdom park, Ariel and Prince Eric had returned to his castle to take care of Flouder. (Their description. How cool is that?) So there I stood, all decked out in my Modern Day Ariel costume (purple shorts, my "Hello My Name Is Ariel" Princess Convention shirt and my Ariel crown) and I wasn't going to get my picture made with the lady of the hour. I was severely disappointed.

M was a generous friend, however, and she promised that we would come back the next day to grab a few minutes with the sea princess. So, we went off to enjoy the rest of the Halloween party. And let me tell you this....if you only have the choice of attending one special event party at the Magic Kingdom, the Halloween party is where it is at. I loved the Mickey's Very Merry Christmas Party so much before this. They give out free cookies and hot chocolate and there is snow on Main Street....and that is all fantastic. But the Halloween party has this really cool vibe and EVERYONE.....and I mean EVERYONE is dressed up. M and I were completely underdressed in our little outfits. Next time I go, I'm going all out. I mean that.

But M and I had dinner reservations at Tony's during the first parade, and by the time we were done, there were zero crowds at the new character spot. ZERO. And we made friends with Cast Member Kevin who told us exactly which characters (and rare ones at that) were greeting people in the character rooms. We would go in line, meet the Wicked Stepmother and Stepsisters, go back to Kevin, and he would then tell us who was in the next room. We went in and out meeting characters at least 6 times.

During our character extravaganza, we met:

-Lotso from Toy Story 3

-Jafar from Aladdin

-The Wicked Stepsisters and Stepmother

-Gaston!!!!!!!!! from Beauty and the Beast (one of the rarest of all)

(Aren't we cute together? Belle was stuuupidd.)

-Rapunzel and Flynn Rider

-Cinderella (TWICE!) and Prince Charming

and.....

-Snow White and Snow Prince

Snow Prince was a cutie patootie, and M was excited to get her picture made with them since she was a modern day Snow with her yellow shorts and red t-shirt. She got in between the two and posed for a picture.

(I'm throwing this picture in for good measure because I love how I'm mimicking the Snow Prince as the two Snow White's met. It's almost like we bonded over a precious moment......little did I realize how much bonding the Prince I were about to do.)

Anyhoo.....we left the Adorable Snow Prince and went on about our night. I was a little sad I wouldn't meet Ariel in my matching apparel. But alas, that was just something I was going to have to face. Besides, I had an Auburn shirt with glitter on it that Ariel needed to see. I knew she would appreciate the glitter.

So the next day, we got up early, went to Hollywood Studios and then went on our detour to the Magic Kingdom so I could get some face time with my favorite Disney princess. The anticipation was almost too much for me to handle. So I threw on my Ariel crown for good measure. It clashed with my orange and blue, but at least she would know she was in the presence of a fan.

Shortly after this picture was taken, Prince Eric stuck his arm out the side window of their building and started waving to the crowds. I got so excited. This was it! I was going to meet Walking Ariel! I couldn't believe it!

I was starstruck. So excited. Couldn't believe I was actually.....FINALLY....meeting my favorite princess. Isn't she just simply adorable!? And I was really excited to meet Prince Eric too! He is so rare himself......and then.....while we waited in line.....M turned to me and said, "Oh my gawd, Katie. That's the Snow Prince!"

Look familiar? Yup. That's right. The prince of both Ariel and Snow White who M and I dressed up as was the exact. same. person. Funny thing is, he acted completely different in both costumes. When he was the Snow Prince, he was very protective of Snow White and very serious. He asked us why Snow White wasn't invited to our Princess Convention as it said on our shirts, and we told him that M was her representative, just like I was Ariel's. He stood holding her hand the entire time and treated her like a macho man protecting his little baby bird. With Ariel, he was goofy and silly and had this dopey smile on his face. He joked around and talked about how fantastic it was to meet Ariel's biggest fan and was all around fun. It amazed me how differently one dude could act. I then decided you must have to be either 1) a fantastic actor or 2) manic in order to switch character roles like that in a manner of 12 hours.

Regardless, the big joke of the day became that the Prince was cheating on Snow White with Ariel. Throw on a wig and he's living a double life, loving two completely different women.

So my experience in meeting Walking Ariel was fantastic, yet slightly over-shadowed by the twin princes. I highly suggest YOU making a game of seeing which people play two different characters on your next visit to WDW. Wonder which two characters I could be?

My Not-So-Very Scary Trip To Walt Disney World

2011-11-01T14:08:00.000-05:00

I have had the worst luck with traveling over the past 12 months. Starting with my trip last October, continuing on to the canceled Taylor Swift debacle and then last weekend's Knoxville plane disaster, I've had some pretty unlucky circumstances when it comes to getting myself out of Alabama. It's almost as if the Fairies of Travel were putting a heavy spell on me...."You WILL stay in Birmingham. You WILL stay in Birmingham."

And when I heard about Neighbor Girl's wedding, the trip I had planned for this weekend almost got canceled too. But with some understanding family and some understanding friends, it didn't. And that's how M and I found ourselves in sunny Orlando, Florida this past weekend.

I have to tell you, it felt absolutely wonderful to get out of dodge....if only for 48 hours. That's right. I flew to Orlando and was there a total of 48 hours. M and I met at the airport at 6:00 on Friday morning and landed at 10:10. We rushed around and were in the parks by 12:10. It was kind of like Disney-in-A-Day: Handicapped Edition.

The entire weekend I felt this huge confliction. My heart and my mind knew how things needed to be tackled to maximize our time and hit all of our targets, but my body just wasn't willing. There were some moments where I felt so much pain in my foot that I typically would have been done for the day, wrapping it in ice and plopping myself on the couch. But then I would look around and realize that I was in flippin' Disney World and that I needed to keep going. I'll admit....I did more than I should have. But it was so worth it. I may be immobile for the next few days, but I did it in magical style.

And it's amazing to me that I have as many fun stories as I do from the weekend. So get excited for a blog post or two as I tell you all about my 48 whirlwind hours in the most magical place on Earth.....including The Tale of the Cheating Prince Charming, The Annoying Mr. Mark and most importantly Katie and Ariel: Best Friends Forever.

So....get excited for a magical journey. You ready?

The Neighbor Girl Bride

2011-10-29T11:00:00.001-05:00

I may be at the most magical place on Earth today (a post I'm sure to write soon!!!) but it's honestly a little bit bittersweet. Because a sweet, precious person is getting married today and I can't be there.

My family calls her Neighbor Girl. I'm not sure how the name came about...I think my dad used it first. But I don't remember her not being part of my life. And although as we got older, we grew apart as most, as many childhood pals do, she is still family and I love her dearly.

We are connected by sleepovers and my precious grandfather and bird houses and history and Barbie dolls and bike rides and carpools and clothes from Buttons and Bows and CVA and CCS and birthday parties and Ribbon and Bear and back roads and and endless hours of playtime. I love her dearly because she represents everything about my childhoold. And my greatest wish is for her to be in the most magical place on Earth today.....which is in a barn in our beautiful little small hometown getting married to the cowboy she fell head over cowboy heels for.

I love you, Neighbor Girl, and I'm so sorry I can't be there today. I'm so proud that I get to call you my friend....but most importantly, my family. But I wish you and the new Neighbor Husband a lifetime of happiness.

The Casting Call

2011-10-28T09:30:00.000-05:00

I've been wanting to put together a cast listing for awhile.....you know, my perfect dream cast to be part of "The Southern Soap Opera: Movie." To if you want, take a look-sy up to the top menu and check out my dream cast.....those people who I love and the actors I would love to play them someday. Enjoy!

My Lunch Date With President Obama

2011-10-27T09:30:00.001-05:00

I'm not a Republican. I'm also not a Democrat. I have always loved the political process, though. I registered to vote on my 18th birthday so I could make sure I had a vote in the gubernatorial election that year. I went to Washington for the 2004 inauguration so I could see the first President I voted for get sworn into office for his second term. I took off from work on Inauguration Day in 2008 so I could watch all of the festivities without interruption. I love politics. Just love them.

But I will be very honest. I haven't decided who I'm going to support in 2012. I like limited government involvement on all issues. That includes limited government involvement on financial issues as well as social issues. I think it is wrong for the government to stick their noses into people's finances but I also think it is wrong to stick their nose into people's personal business and choices as well. But that's another soap box for another day.

So....that being said, I haven't put my name on any Obama supporter lists. I haven't signed up for email updates. I mean, I did that one time back in 2008 when I wanted to know the name of that song played at the convention, but that was it. I learned my lesson then. Don't sign up for political campaigns. Got it.

Imagine my surprise when I went to get my mail yesterday and I had this envelope in my mail.

On first glance, looks like a plain, tan envelope, right? But let's look a little further, shall we?

Yep. That says Whitehouse. Not White House. Intrigued I open up the letter.

It was printed on plain resume paper. It was the exact same stuff I bought when I was right out of college looking for jobs....just plain resume paper from Office Max. Here's what the letter said. (You might want to click on the image to read it in it's entirety.

There are so many things I need to point out in this letter.
1) This letter is obviously not written on White House stationary. I mean, someone has to think I was born yesterday to think that putting WHITEHOUSE in big letters across the top would make me think it was from the president.
2) The grammar is atrocious. If the White House really did send out this letter, then I for sure won't vote for Obama in 2012 as he needs to have higher hiring standards.
3) I googled Robert O. Johnson, thinking that perhaps he was a member of the Obama staff. Nope. I can't find anything on a Robert O. Johnson, nor can I find anything on his daughter, Marsha. And why in the world would a check up on a man take 3 days? I mean, for serious? What kind of doctor is this man going to?
4) Since when does Obama say "My people from the OVAL OFFICE....." I have heard lots of the president's speeches. He doesn't talk like that.
5) I never send anyone birthday cards. I'm mean that way. So why would I send one to someone I've never heard of.
6) And my favorite part of the entire letter......."The next time you are in town, come by the office and we can have lunch. Also there are some people that I want you to meet."

Let's imagine that scenario for a second, shall we? Let's picture Katie, be-bopping up to the security guard at the White House with this letter saying, "Hey Mr. Secret Service Man. I got a letter in the mail saying that the President of the United States of America......the Leader of the Free World.....the Commander and Chief of the United States Military.....sent me a letter on Office Max paper with no return address and told me he wants to have lunch with me. Here's my letter to prove it! Oh, and by the way, he has some dignitaries and public figures that he wants me to meet."

I don't know who sent me this letter or how they got my address. All of my bills and things are sent to Kathryn. That's how I'm registered. I don't sign up for things as Katie. This letter is so completely bizarre.

So, if whoever sent me this letter is reading this, all I have to say is, funny joke, dude. I mean, if you really thought I would buy that this was a legitimate letter from the President, then I have some ocean front property in Arizona I would like to sell you and I can throw in the the Golden Gate Bridge while I'm at it.

Someone really wants Obama elected. And I applaud this someone's efforts at supporting his cause. But I think he/she needs to find some new tactics. Because this letter didn't make me patriotic....it just made me laugh.

A Time To Plant...And See A Friend On TV

2011-10-25T16:01:00.000-05:00

Want to see something cool?

I spent an entire summer with this kid. He always told me I had the best smelling shampoo since all the other girls used Pantene Pro V since that was the "cool girls" shampoo and I used Herbal Essence. I'm not even kidding. When I saw him three years later on a football game Saturday, he hugged me and said "You always had the best smelling hair."

He is such a charming guy, and I'm so happy to say that I knew him when....pre-Facebook. We were Camp War Eagle counselors together back in 2003, and a nicer guy couldn't be found in all of Auburn. Enjoy! And go buy his book!

Congratulations, James Farmer!

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Thanks A Ton, US Airways

2011-10-24T23:55:00.001-05:00

I have had the worst luck in traveling during 2011. I’m not completely sure what I’m doing wrong so that the Travel Fairies enjoy frowning on me so. I mean, let’s recap for a second, shall we? First my Taylor Swift Girl’s Weekend to Atlanta was postponed and then canceled. That one still hurts. Ly and I learned a few weeks ago that her rescheduled concert on October 1 featured a surprise song by Usher. Don’t think I don’t intend to hold that over Little Miss’s little head for the rest of her life. “You better behave, Little Miss. Aunt Katie gave up Usher for you.” And on Saturday, I was supposed to be on my trip to Orlando celebrating my walk to Disney. But that got canceled when I broke my foot. I have only been released to start walking a week ago, and I’ve done a total of 2.5 miles since. As I write this paragraph, my mother and I should be walking into the Brown Derby at Hollywood Studios to celebrate my achievements.

But that’s ok. I’m managing. My mother and father decided they would go to Gatlinburg this weekend after our trip to Disney had been squashed and that I would join them after work on Friday. And my mother had exchanged some points on her credit card so that I could fly from Birmingham to Knoxville in order to save me gas mileage and a five hour drive alone up there. I was super excited about the chance to getaway, even if it was for a day. I have been stuck at home doing nothing really for 12 weeks. I needed to get out and clear my head a bit.

So they left on Wednesday morning. And wouldn’t you know….on Wednesday night, my Explorer and her alternator that was replaced 12 weeks ago decided to on the fritz again. So I was relegated to drive my father’s old Escape….the one that breaks down more than any of us would like. But it got me to work and home and back again, so I was completely thankful. Besides, I thought…..I’m only driving this car for one day. I had a ride to work on Friday morning and a ride to the airport afterwork to catch my flight. I’m good.

So Friday rolls around, and I get dropped off at work. The plan was for me to leave at 3:30 and be at the airport in plenty of time for my 4:55 flight. At 2:55, I get a phone call from US Airways. “This notification is to let you know that your flight to Charlotte (my layover stop) has been canceled due to airline maintenance.” Shocked, I call the reservation number. There I’m matched with Wes who promises me there is a Delta flight leaving Birmingham at 6:45 that night and arriving in Knoxville at 10. Perfect, I said. Let’s get me on it. He warned me that everyone on my flight was going to be trying to get on it, so he needed to act fast. I held on the phone for 13 minutes, anxious to hear what he had to tell me.

He comes back and said, “Miss Smith, awesome news! I got you on the flight! One of the last seats!!!! You leave tonight at 6:45. Here is your reservation number! It’s a Delta flight….not US Air. So go to their terminal.”

Relieved, I go back to my desk and start to work again. I told my friend Libby to come pick me up 30 minutes later than we originally intended, and I thought I was safe. On a whim, I decided to sign on to Delta to see where my seats were. Thank goodness I did.

When I put in my reservation number, I saw that John Wes put me on the Friday afternoon flight to Knoxville…….for next Friday. Panicked, I called the reservation line back and got Lisa.

“Lisa, when I spoke to Wes earlier he was supposed to put me on the flight tonight, but I think he put me on the flight for next Friday.”

“I’m sure there is a mistake. The reservation isn’t on our system. You won’t see it on our website.”

“Lisa, I know that. I signed into the Delta website. There has been a mistake. I promise. Please look.”

I know Lisa didn’t believe me, but she put me on hold and went to check. And sure enough……when she came back to the phone…….

“Miss Smith, you are correct. We did put you on the flight next Friday. Let me see if there is anything left for tonight……hmmm…….hmmmm……..nope. Looks like I’m going to have to try to get you on something tomorrow.”

My heart sunk. “Lisa, I was only going up for the day. There’s no point in me flying back tomorrow.”

“Are you sure, sweetie?” At this point, Lisa knows she’s messed up as I’m on the phone on the verge of tears. “We can get you there by 1:30 tomorrow afternoon.”

I tell her no, thank you and politely ask for my refund. See, had I had my car, I would have left work right then and hopped in my car and driven up there! I’ve done it before! It’s not a big deal. Without any bathroom stops, I could be there in five hours easily. But remember, my car was in the shop. I’d been in my dad’s car which I could honestly see breaking down in the middle of the road on the way up there.

So….alas. I missed my mini-vacation to Gatlinburg. My sweet momma (the best one in the world) brought me Shrimp New Orleans from Bubba Gumps. I swear, this weekend was cursed. I mean, two trips scheduled for this weekend and both were canceled? Perhaps this was God saying “Stay at home!!!!!!” I mean, that was CLEARLY the message for the weekend of October 22.

But….I hope that’s not the case for next weekend. I gots places to be people!!!!!

An Open Letter: Kenny Wormald

2011-10-20T09:00:00.000-05:00

Dear Kenny Wormald,

Wow. I just have to say that you have completely made my week infinitely better than it began. If you take the time to read my blog a little further down, you will see that I saw your performance in "Footloose" on Tuesday night. And Kenny, I have to say watching you dance was the highlight of my week. I haven't seen the original, but I've heard you were better than Kevin Bacon's performance. That alone is high-flyin' praise in my opinion.

You see, Kenny, I have a slight infatuation with dance movies, but in particular, dance movies that feature angry male dance solos. I don't know if you have seen the "High School Musical" series, but two of my favorite parts in the trilogy feature Angry Troy dancing....well.....angrily....in the middle of the golf course and in the empty school where the flags morph into an angry storm displaying his emotions. When I see those scenes, I honestly have one of those moments where my soul doesn't know whether to laugh or get angry with you. It's like a huge rush of laughter and intrigue and I. LOVE. IT. (Seriously, Kenny. Go look up "Bet On It" or even better "Scream." Angry Troy = Happy Katie.)

But Kenny, I have to admit I feel like I'm cheating on Zac Effron a little bit. Your solo during "Footloose" was ten times angrier than Troy ever was in any of his solos. Loved. It. When you started incorporating those gymnastic moves into your angry dance sequence, I was completely mezmerized. I have to say though, when you left with Julianne Hough's Ariel character after your mad dance had been discovered, I wondered how you got back your hoodie that you had left on the top floor of the warehouse because you never went back up to get it. You might want to bring that issue up the director.

I'm an aspiring dancer myself, Kenny. You see....I started taking dance lessons. In fact, I went back to my first dance class since major surgery on Monday. But see, if we were friends in real life, you could teach me all the cool moves you made in that movie. I think Hollywood is ready for an Angry Girl Solo Montage, don't you?

So Kenny, I have to ask. What else do you plan on starring in? I checked your wikipedia page and you don't have anything else planned...which is making me super sad. I think you would be excellent in a dance tv show! Or maybe a starring role on "Glee!" I hear Mike Chang may be leaving after this year. I also have to ask.....do you have a girlfriend? At first, I felt a little creepy crushing on a kid in high school, but I then learned that you are only two months younger than me. I mean, I bet we were even in the same grade at the same time in high school (or when you weren't in super flashy arts school which is where you and your super talents should have been.) So.......if you don't find my letter to stalkerish......and if you are interested in teaching dance lessons to a highly uncoordinated Southern girl, I might just be interested.

Also....was the Boston accent real? If not, you did a very nice job.

Sincerely,

Your Newest Biggest Fan

I Will Believe

2011-10-20T00:00:00.000-05:00

We were meant to open doors
And we were meant to face the danger
Never knowing what's in store
And never having met a stranger

One of us is big and brave
And one of us is tenderhearted
One of us is tempting fate
And the last but not least of us
Has faith enough for each of us

And I know
That I could never go it alone
'Cause I believe
I'd be lost without You here beside me

We have always been protected
Little ones should run and hide
But we expect the unexpected
When love arrives and calls us all inside

And I know
That even when the wind blows
I'll be fine
'Cause You and I will get by 'til Springtime

Don't close your eyes, I'm right beside you
Don't be afraid, I'm never far
You and I were always meant to
Wake the dreamers from the dark
Come out, come out wherever you are

It's like daylight
At midnight
It's my favorite dream when nothings really as it seems
Don't wake me
Just take me
Take me by the hand and I will believe

Come out, come out wherever you are

Footloose, Kick Off Your Sunday Shoes

2011-10-19T08:53:00.000-05:00

I have been so. busy. Between work and rehab, life has been knocking me on my feet every single day. I am so tired all the time, and I can't seem to get my energy levels back to normal. Time is definitely a gift I wish I had more of.

But last night, I took a break from running around like a crazy person and went to see "Footloose." I hadn't seen the original, but Ly had and said it was fantastic and that we needed to go. So she found a baby-sitter for Little Miss and I rushed to the 6 Dollar theater after the hardest rehab I've had yet and planned to watch the singing and dancing extravaganza.

I had no clue what I was in for. People, if you have the time, you must go see this movie. It was so good. The music was addictive and the cast was phenomenal. It honestly made for a great reprieve from real life. And surprisingly, Julianne Hough was SUCH a good actress.

So......even if you have to wait until it is at the dollar theater near you, go check it out. I would be surprised if you are disappointed.

(Plus there was an angry-boy dancing in an abandoned warehouse scene. Can't beat that.)

Lyrically Challenged

2011-10-18T14:54:00.000-05:00

I did this once in college. I went through a writer's block that was unlike any other, and the only way I knew how to express myself was through lyrics. Cheesy, I know. But I printed out pages and pages of song lyrics to get my point across. I kinda feel like I'm doing that now.

I was deeply affected by a speaker who touches the lives of so many in Uganda every single day. At the same time, I have become obsessed with watching as many episodes of "Friends" as possible. I'm touched and convicted over the struggle to be who God is trying to get me to be lately, and yet I am thrilled and excited about going to Disney for my Disney-In-A-Day adventure in a week or so.

I don't know. I feel like I'm this big bundle of contradictions lately. I'm a superficial, fluffy girl who likes so many silly, materialist things and yet I'm burdened by the things that break my heart, and I'm not sure what to do to make up the difference.

So I apologize for the song lyrics. But maybe they will soothe your mind like they have mine.

Washed By The Water

2011-10-18T12:14:00.000-05:00

Daddy was a preacher

She was his wife

Just tryin to make the world a little better

You know, shine a light

People started talking

Just to hear their own voice

Those people tried to accuse my father

Said he made the wrong choice

Though it might be painful

You know that time will always tell

Those people have long since gone

My father never failed
Even when the rain falls

Even when the flood starts rising

Even when the storm comes

I am washed by the water
Even when the Earth crumbles under my feet

Even when the ones I love turn around and crucify me

I won’t never ever let you down

I won’t fall I won’t fall  

won’t fall as long as you’re around me
Even when the rain falls

Even when the flood starts rising

Even when the storm comes

I am washed by the water

"We Were On A Break!"

2011-10-12T13:00:00.000-05:00

I would say I've had writer's block lately, but it would be more accurate to say I've had writer's exhaustion. I've been in rehab for three weeks now, and to say it pulls all the energy out of me would be an understatement. It's like a huge energy suck, and by the time I have the energy to do something fun that's bloggable, my brain is too tired to actually compute.

The new kickboxing class releases their new routine this week. And the new Body Jam comes out on Thursday. It will be the first release I've missed since I started all of this back in February, which kinda stinks. But I'll be back. I know I will. But MY problem is that I over-do it and then have to pay for it later.

Anyways, consider this my re-entry into the blogging world. Sometimes, we have to take little vaca's from even the things over to re-energize us, right?

God and Football: A WakeUp Call

2011-09-21T10:47:00.000-05:00

I love Auburn, and because I love Auburn, I love Auburn football. I've grown to appreciate it more since my graduation from the institution in 2006, and nothing warms my heart more than to know that fans are throwing toilet paper into Toomer's Corner trees to celebrate an Auburn victory. But to me, Auburn is more than a football team. It is a place where I spent four and a half years of my life and honestly became the person that I am today. It's where Baby Cousin A marched across the stage four years after I did during the hottest graduation ceremony ever held on campus. It's where I met the ladies who would become some of my best friends. It became a place that my heart will always consider home.

And that's why I don't love bashing other teams. I really don't. I know that to each student who went to those schools, they love their campus just as much as I love mine. And I grew up an Alabama fan who "converted." So not only do I have precious memories from Auburn's campus, I have memories of the Rammer Jammer with my grandfather. I remember parking behind the Alabama Tri-Delt house and waiting in line at Bryant-Denny to go in. I recall how my grandfather refused to buy a bottle of water at the upper deck concession stand, but never fussed when I gave him his bottle of water in exchange for an Alabama program that he'd bought me.

Maybe that makes me a bundle of contradictions, but that's why "typically" I don't get involved in the mess that is Facebook SEC Saturdays, when people act like a bunch of raving lunatics and intentionally say things to piss off the other team.

And that was my attitude on Saturday after Auburn loss (which honestly, I think was a good thing in a way. We needed a wake up call, or else our team was going to keep leaving the defense in Auburn instead of taking them to the game with them.) I got on Facebook just to kill some time while I waited on my mother and I saw the most vulgar, mean-spirited statuses. And I'm not talking about those that are making good-natured ribbing. No, I saw two that punched me in the gut.

"WHAT A WIN, CLEMSON! The only thing that would have made it better is if a little more blood was shed!"

and......

"Poor Lutzy (referring to our outstanding player). It could be worse.....you could have snapped your knee in two like I was praying for."

I was floored and disgusted. I immediately felt a huge punch in my stomach. Twelve years ago on Tuesday, one of my dearest friends died after receiving a head on collision injury during a junior-high football game. I stood on that field and watched as the helicopters airlifted him from campus, still wearing his football bads and gear. For twelve football seasons, I've felt an all-too-familiar pain whenever a player goes down. When I see the players kneel in prayer, my heart hurts, regardless of whether it is a head injury, a muscle spasm or torn arm muscle. My friend died playing this sport. I don't care how much I dislike houndstooth and LSU purple and gold. I would never wish that on anyone.

So, I immediately posted a Facebook status myself, hoping desperately that the idiot who wrote that last status would see it. "It could be worse," I said, "At least I'm not an Alabama fan."

And that one sentence started a firestorm. My message box filled up. I was being tacky. I was being mean-spirited myself. I was being one of those Auburn fans.

Really? Me? No. I direct you to the immature man-boy who wrote the above for true tacky.

Here are a few statistics:
(As researched by the Katie Smith School of Statistics)

1) There are just as many Auburn fans as there are Alabama fans in the state, meaning there are just as many tacky ones. However, there are more non-Alabama student fans than there are Auburn non-Auburn student fans. And by nature (or nurture) and by sheer fact, those who do not have the truest and deepest appreciation for the university are, in fact, the tackiest. You can comment until you are blue in the face, but I will never be convinced. Unless you went there, you don't "know." You may love the football team you are cheering for, but you don't love the place like home.

2) When your social media is more about tearing down an 18-20 year old kid than building up your own team, then you have some deep-seated issues I can't begin to understand.

3) Do you hate that other team as much as you love God? And by that measure, do you love your team more than you love the Father?

I love this quote: "Alabama fans love Alabama football. Auburn fans love Auburn." Do I hate when Auburn loses? Sure. But if Auburn lost every single game, I would still take pride in the fact that we have a beuatiful history. We have goregous buildings on our campus and even a architecural disaster that IS Haley Center. So, yeah, my Facebook status still rings true. I'll take a loss anyday as long as I still can say I'm part of the Auburn family at the end of the day.

This brings me to one Facebook message in particular. After I posted what I did, my cousin Lisa sent me a message recommending that I read the first 30 pages in a book she'd read. "God and Football: Faith and Fanatisicm in the SEC" by Chad Gibbs. He started out like me: entrinched in an Alabama family who converted to "Auburn-ism" upon going to college there. He even had a sick Grandpa James, who like my sweet grandfather, lived to see Alabama win another National Championship. Gibbs spent the 2009 football season visiting every SEC stadium for a game and visiting local religious organizations and churches in each city to see how they married the two.

This book is fantastic. There is the moment when he compares Lane Kiffen to a Southern Zack Morris. He describes ESPN 3 as ESPN Al-Jezzerah. He talks about "going undercover" as an LSU fan. Quite honestly, it's one of the best....and timely appropriate....reads I've had in a long time.

There are SO many good and valid parts to this book.

Here are some of my favorite quotes:

"[He] went on to explain that after a painful loss in 2008, he had sort of an ephiphany. "I was walking back to my apartment and felt sick to my stomach. Then it was like God said to me, "This is what happens when trivial things become too important. It was kind of liberating. I mean, if I don't let football get too big, it can't hurt me."

The Author: "It's a family thing [speaking of the Auburn family], I said......"But not always something that is passed down generation to generation....I think it means you are part of something bigger than yourself. When you go out in the world, you are representing Auburn, and when you need help, you know Auburn people will have your back." Jordan [His friend] What you were describing as the Auburn family is really what the church is supposed to look like."

"What bothers me, and what I think bothers God, is this spirit of idolatry associated with football in the South."

"I'm praying for those fans who woke up after the ball game and realized that despite the win, they still lack peace. Football is a great hobby, but a horrible god."

"But that was my problem-thinking a football game will change my life, when truthfully, it changes nothing."

******************************************************

My grandfather laid in an ICU for 9 weeks, barely knowing what was going on in the world. But because he loved Alabama football, we turned on the tv to the game each week, believing that he knew what was going on. We decorated his hospital room with his Alabama hats and "Roll Tides" written on the dry erase board in his room. And he left his world 12 hours after Alabama won that title. As I read the book, I learned about the author's grandfather and how, just like mine, he'd proudly cheered for Alabama, but even more so, he proudly stood in Beard-Eaves Memorial Coliseum as his grandson got a diploma that was orange and blue instead of red and white. And just like my grandfather, he left his earth shortly after that 13th National Championship.

So, the next time you think it would be "cute" or "funny" to wish a player got hurt, or the next time you take your rivalry so far that you proudly alienate your friends or goad them for a response, how about you take a few minutes, consider shutting your flappy mouth and be classy instead. Build up your own team. Rib the other a little bit. But don't let your relationship with God be compromised because your life revolves around a football and a little SEC drama.

And because of this book, I'm making a vow for this football season myself. I will not respond to your catty Facebook messages. I will not post about football on my Twitter. I will refrain from checking my mini-feed on Gamedays so I don't say something that will make you think less of me or I won't read something that will make me thing less of you. Football isn't important enough to me to make me want to make you angry. We all have our own teams to cheer for instead of wishing teenagers would get injured.

And go pick up Chad Gibb's book while you are at it.

Things To Know About Ankle Surgery

2011-09-18T08:00:00.000-05:00

Being immobile for 8 weeks today, I learned a whole bunch of really important lessons. And I think looking back, I'm better able to document them now than in the moment because I can really pinpoint the things that stand out. So for those of you reading this who are about to undergo ankle surgery, such as an ankle arthroscopy and Bronston Gould procedure with a metal screw going in your leg, you might want to take note of some of the things below.

1) Get a cast that coordinates with your wardrobe.

I had lofty goals on this one. I was going to get black and have people sign my cast with the silver Sharpie for a glittery effect. But once I had the cast on, I realized that the LAST thing I wanted was to go be-bopping around with people's names written all over my cast like a four-year-old mess. So, I opted for purple. And I realized that a huge chunk of my wardrobe fit in the purple or soft pink family. Even the things that I have that are blue are more teal than blue and thus, I looked like I was channeling the Little Mermaid with my teal and purple combination. The next color I went for was blue. This worked too as my softer pieces fit nicely with the blue I chose. However, for someone who loves glitter and girly things, the pink cast that I had third was the worst choice of all. It was bright and neon, and it was the first thing people noticed.

Now don't get me wrong. People could see me coming anyways. I got used to having people look at my ankle first before they looked at me (usually with this horrible look of pity on their face.) But the hot pink definitely didn't help. So for the last two weeks of casted life, I went with a purple cast. I mean, the hot pink matched NOTHING in my closet. So....prior to surgery, take a look at your wardrobe and see what works best for your items.

2) Be prepared for rude people at Wal-Mart.

Do you know this lady?

That woman with in the white shirt was the rudest woman I dealt with the whole time I was sick. She was as skinny as a beanpole and just looked uptight. Anyways, I had to go into Wal-Mart in the little motorized cart, so my dignity was already stripped. I went down the aisle with dishwashing detergent and powder, got my stuff and started moving along. But Miss Air Freshener put her buggy on one side of the aisle while she stood for FIVE MINUTES looking at different fragrances of air freshener. Blocked the whole blessed aisle. Eventually, I got brave enough after sitting there for awhile (and taking her picture) and asked if I could get by. She looked at me as if I had asked her to buy arsenic instead of air freshener. I was SO taken aback. I wanted to look at her, point to my cast and say, "Miss Air Freshener, I realize the decision between Lavender Mist and Barely Berry is a tough one, and I'm sorry I broke your concentration, but would you like to trade places? My casted foot for your stinky air problems?"

My experiences at Wal-Mart changed my perspective. The first thing it did was inspire me NOT to go back during the duration of my sickness. I went to Publix where they were fantastic at helping out the handicapped. And secondly, now that I'm well, I will go out of my way to help those in the motorized wheelchairs. It's hard not being able to reach stuff and getting starred at like a criminal.

3.) Leave your dignity at the door and put your pride aside.

When you can't get in and out of the shower without help, any feelings of independence and integrity that you've gained as an adult is completely stripped away from you. For 6 weeks, I bathed while sitting in chair in my shower with a bag wrapped around my leg. And for two of those weeks, my sweet momma had to come and help me move from my shower to my dressing table, from the upstairs to the downstairs, from the couch to the table.....etc, etc. etc. I couldn't do anything on my own. Me, the girl who hates asking for help, had to have help doing everything. I couldn't carry my own drink upstairs at night unless it was a bottle that I could throw up the stairs and hope it didn't roll back down.

This would be an excellent time to mention that I could not have made it through the past 8 weeks without my mom who kinda did EVERYTHING for me and then some. She's kinda awesome....and if you look at your mother and think she's fantastic, well then she isn't half as awesome as mine. Seriously. She was there the day I literally fell out of the shower. She cooked a freakin' awesome casserole for a baby shower when I couldn't. She sat with me and listened to me complain and just proved her all-around legendary-ness.

Keep those things in mind as you move forward in life, people. If you have ankle surgery, call me. We will have lots to talk about.

Sick of Swimmin', Ready To Stand!!!!!

2011-09-16T10:57:00.000-05:00

I went to the doctor on Monday, and they told me I had one more week left in my cast. That's cool, I said. I can handle that. The sweetest Physicians Assistant in the entire world, Hannah, put on an awesome cast, and I was set for the next week. I was PUMPED for Monday, knowing that I had the home stretch in my sight.

So, let's fast forward to Wednesday night. I've complained about my cast, but overall, I've done REALLY well with dealing with it. My mom even commented how she didn't know how I did it all. But mentally, I was determined that this cast wasn't going to keep me down. That's why I threw a baby shower with one foot. That's why I dog sat with my grandmother on crutches. That's why I walked back and forth and back and forth to the hospital when Little Miss was in the NICU. That's why I went to dinner with my friends and hid the crutches under the table.....because I wasn't letting them keep me down.

But something snapped on Wednesday night. I had gone to bed around 10, and I woke up in a panic around 12:30. Apparently, in my sleep, I needed to scratch my ankle and when I couldn't get to it, I flipped. I woke myself up and I was in full on, couldn't breath, panic attack. The thing had to come off my leg and it had to come off NOW. I took a wire hanger, folded it and stuck it down my cast in an effort to get to the itchy spot. The fact that I couldn't get to it threw me for a HUGE loop and in one moment, my five and a half weeks of patience was down the drain.

I called my mom in a panic and said, "This thing has to come off now." And honestly, my logic was sound. I only had 4 days til I was going to get it off anyways....what would a few days early hurt?

Work was a mad house, though, when I got in yesterday morning. Things were crazy and people were out and I was afraid for like half a second that I wasn't going to go to the doctor. And I started to cry at my desk because all of a sudden, I was just. so. miserable. I wanted to take a shower without putting a bag over my cast. I wanted to "walk" not "scoot" up my stairs to go to bed. I wanted to itch my ankle instead of having to stick a wire down my foot........all things that people take for granted.

But my mother told me to stick up for myself and take the time to go to the doctor. And when she picked me up, I looked horrible. I'd rubbed all the makeup off my face. My hair was wadded up in a pony-tail that was super disgusting, and I looked like a dirty fourth grader at the end of the day of school. I was nast-y.

So, we got to the doctor. And I explained to Hannah why I needed this cast off NOW. And as I started to tell her the reasons, I started to hyperventilate right there in the doctors office. (Drama Queen much?) "Get. this. off. me. I. can't. take. it. any. more. I. can't. breathe." She told me to calm down, that she would take it off and I could wear a boot for the next four days before rehab started. I was SO relieved.

And then, I started hearing "Part of Your World" playing in the back of my head. And I understood Ariel's plight. She just wanted to walk. She wanted to be able to put one foot in front of the other. She wanted to run on the sand. And I got Ariel. She and I became kindred spirits in that moment. She just wanted to have fun on her feet. She just wanted to run around. With my cast on, I was a mermaid.

Is it really any coincidence that she's the princess I want so desperately to meet when I go on my walk to Disney World? I think not. And listen to these lyrics!!!!! I mean, words like "Proper women! Sick of swimmin'! Ready to STAND!" ""Flippin' your fins you don't get too far, LEGS are required for jumpin', dancin', strolling along down a---what's that word again? Street!"

She and I were kindred spirits. I'd been a mermaid for a month (without the water.) And I was ready to get my legs back.

So my personal King Triton (or Hannah) used her magic Triton (or the cast saw) and freed me from my fins (or my big purple cast.) And I DID have fun on my feet walking up my stairs and into my bathtub where I took a nice long bubble bath AND a shower without having to put a bag on my foot first. It was simply....magical.

I start rehab on Monday, and I have to wear the Roboboot until then, but I don't care. I can walk without crutches (although I still am a little bit because I'll admit....there is some pain when I put my weight on my foot and....I'm a bit scared as well.) But at least there is no big plaster cast. AND, if all goes well on Monday, I may get to start back walking/biking at the gym VERY soon.

So my rescheduled trip is for February now, and I think I'm almost back on the road to finish up those last 160 miles. It's almost like I took an extended vacation in Jennings, GA on my way to get there, but Disney here I come.

And now.....my meeting with Walking Ariel is going to be much more special. :-)

(P.S. In my own personal Little Mermaid story, I'm making that mean orthopedic nurse I told you about Ursula. She came in yesterday to my room to get something and she SLAMMED the door behind her. She doesn't like me. It might have something to do with me telling her both my doctor AND Hannah the awesome PA assistant about how stinky her attitude is and how I didn't want her touching me. Although.....Ursula at least had some charm to her. This girl has the charm of the fork Ariel kept brushing her hair with.)

September 11, 2001: Camo Day

2011-09-12T10:30:00.001-05:00

September 11, 2001 was the second day in a super busy week for me.

I'd been SGA president at my high school for 3 years, and it was my goal for this final Homecoming in my "reign" as ~~Queen~~ I mean President to be perfect. We had amazing dress-up days scheduled and fantastic games for the kids to play each day. I loved SGA in high school. Absolutely loved every single part of it. And this was my final year to do it. I had to do it up right.

My school was in the middle of Small Town USA, so naturally, all of the boys wanted us to do "Camo Day." And to appease them, we made sure we included it. So on the morning of September 11th, I put on my new camo pants and a really cute camo baby-tee that I'd bought especially for the occasion. I had crafted a camo headband and even had a pair of camo earrings. I thought I looked so awesome. But when I got to school, I was schooled in what someone wanting to win "The Best Dressed Award" really should look like. There was face paint and headgear and every single type of camo dress imaginable. I want to say a good 98% chunk of the school showed up dressed for the day.

BG was the Senior Class representative. I'd been SO glad that she had signed up for the job because I knew that she and I could get stuff done if we worked together......and she was the only other girl in my class. (And if you want a job done right, you have to give it to a girl, correct?) So, I got to school that morning, grabbed BG and we went door-to-door to each class to take roll of who all dressed up and pick the best dressed from each class.

BG and I got to skip Mrs. P's homeroom each morning to go take these tallies, and we stood on the porch of one of the classroom trailers with our roll sheets in hand, seeing the percentages and deciding what points needed to go on the huge points board that was placed in the high school hallway. Around 8:30 that morning, as we stood there deciding who had the best camo gear on, we saw one of our two principals, Miss P run towards the trailer where we stood.

"Mrs. P in there?" Miss P asked us, with a terrified look on her face. Both BG and I shook our heads yes. "Is Mr. B in there?" she said pointing to the other trailer where the Headmaster of the school was teaching Economics. BG and I nodded yes again, seeing as how we had just left his room to see all of his camo dressed students.

Miss P brushes past us and gets Mrs. P to come out on the porch. BG and I just stood there, not sure what was going on. I can't speak for BG, but I know that I wanted to overhear what was happening. I half expected Miss P to tell us to go inside as she broke whatever news, but she let us stand there.

"Someone's flown two planes into the World Trade Center. They think there are more out there."

BG and I went back into the classroom and told our classmates what we'd heard. The next few minutes all seem like a blur. I know that the Headmaster and the Principle called us into an emergency assembly instead of going to our regulary scheduled break period. We completely reworked the "game" we had scheduled for Homecoming that morning, and the seniors were allowed to go to the Headmaster's office to watch the television coverage.

I'll never forget walking into his office and at the exact moment we walked in, Peter Jennings on ABC said, "Oh my God. The North Tower just fell. Both Towers are gone."

At this point, there was still a rouge plane headed towards the Capital, and we were all terrified. We moved into the counselors office, and suddenly, juniors and sophomores joined us to watch the coverage. I will NEVER forget sitting on the floor of that office, surrounded by camoflauge and army boots and war paint as we watched military and firefighters and police officers work on making sense of the chaos.

I got interviewed by the paper that day, along with some of my fellow students. But they couldn't show our pictures. What would that have looked like? A bunch of Christian school kids dressed like militia men on the exact day that our nation was attacked? Instead, they used a great picture of Mrs. M, my cheerleading coach/math teacher watching the television with a horrified look on her face. Thankfully, she was the one person in all of the school who hadn't dressed like a solider going to war that day, and the paper got their picture.

After school, Mrs. M and I needed to run some errands for the next dress up day, and all of the surrounding malls had closed early for fear of the unknown. I remember she and I walked through Wal-Mart with the radio playing overhead, telling of closings and updates of what was going on. There was no music being played, and all of the tv's in the mall were showing coverage of CNN. Wal-Mart was so quiet that day. It felt so eeire and sad and somber.

By the time the day was over, I'd watched President Bush address the nation sitting with stunned people at a local pizzaria. I remember sitting there thinking, I will never forget this moment. I will never forget sitting here, at this table watching the President address the nation. And when I got home that night, I felt terror through my body. What if someone attached us during the night? What if there was more coming?

It made my Homecoming plans all seem so silly.

But we continued on. We changed Purple and Gold day to Red, White and Blue day. The Homecoming attendants all wore red, white and blue ribbons on their pretty dresses and we didn't let the terrorists win. We lit candles in rememberance at the game that night, and I remember how beautiful the lights were from where I stood on the side of the field.

And not a September 11 goes by when I don't think about where I was, but more ironically, how I was dressed, on that Tuesday morning. I looked like I was ready to go to war, and so many of my friends that sat around me that day actually did. Just a few short years later, they traded that "pretend" army gear for the real thing. I may have lost touch with those people, but I'm so proud of them.

Everyone's got their "Where were you when?" story. And Camo Day at CCS is mine.

An Open Letter: Multiple Victims

2011-09-07T14:00:00.001-05:00

How about a few open letters? We haven't done those in a while, have we?

Dear Nerdy Kid,

Wow. I have to admit, when I think of the word "nerd" I don't automatically think of Screech Powers or Steven Q. Urkel. I honestly think of those three dorks who were even dorkier than Screech. Remember those guys? I hate to break it to you, NK, but you honestly have those guys beat on the nerdy scale. And what's unreal about it is that even though "nerdy" is cool these days, you aren't even on the nerdy cool scale at all. Just know.....if I could, I would sit you down and we would cover a wide range of subjects.....like "The Art of Talking To Women." "The Correct Way To Approach Men" "The Value of Not Talking AT People." and finally "Knowing When Not To Talk: 101."

But until you admit that Walt Disney was a creative genius and a revolutionary thinker, I'm going to be forced to roll my eyes at you and groan every time you speak.

Sincerely,
Someone Who Thinks You Need Some Social Pixie Dust

***********************************************************

Dear Preacher's Wife,

Wow. Ironic that I mentioned that example a few weeks ago. Your Facebook profile is a breath of fresh air. I love all of your inspirational Bible verses that you post each day. And I really love that profile picture of you and your husband. You really do look quite lovely in it. But I have to ask. What does your boyfriend think about that picture? And have you told the kids in your youth group about your affair yet? Have you told your husband you think marrying him was a mistake?

Oh....wait. You didn't think anyone knew? Guess some things aren't so secret.

Sincerely,
Someone Your Facebook Statuses Can't Fool

************************************************************

Dear Orthopedic Nurse,

Wow. I really tried to be nice to you. When you came in with a scowl on your face, I made it my mission to make you smile. I told you about the guy at work who wears his pants to tight. I told you about the Cat Lady in my neighborhood. I asked you what color cast you thought I should get. But you had swallowed some Bitter Pills that morning, and nothing I said or did was going to get that tart look off of your face. You made sure I knew you didn't want to be there. It's just a job to you. That's what you said. So why did you get so mad when I asked for someone else to be my nurse at my next appointment? I waited for the doctor for 2 hours, and sue me if I didn't want to finally see someone with a Scowl with a capital S. Look, just because you are frosty doesn't mean I have to be around you. You didn't want to be nice to me? Ok. I don't want you to do my cast.

Don't take offense. It's just business, right?

Sincerely,
The Girl Who Told The Doctor I Didn't Want You In My Room

*************************************************************

Dear Alabama Fan,

Wow. I have to say, I really thought you were going to shut up after all the drama that's happened between Auburn and Alabama this year. When your "fan" poisoned the trees, your team and mine joined forces to right a wrong with "Tide For Toomer's." And then when a tornado ravaged your city, "Toomer's For Tuscaloosa" transformed the rescue effort, bringing Auburn fans and Alabama fans alike together to save homes and help people.

So was it "really" necessary for tthe first thing out of your mouth on Saturday to be "Wow. Y'all almost lost it, didn't you, National Champs?"

Sincerely,
The Girl Who Will Tell You That Houndstooth Makes You Look Fat

Count Your Blessing.....Name Them One By One

2011-09-06T15:03:00.002-05:00

Sometimes, your life might not be "clicking" the way you want it to. But when the people you love have some good "clicking" puzzle pieces, then it makes yours not clicking not seem so bad.

For example:
*I still can't get over Little Miss. She's the most fantastic kid in the whole wide world. I'm head over heels in love in ways I never thought I would be.

I am in love with her expression in this picture. She looks like she absolutely hates that bow, and I think it is hilarious. Seriously. She's the cutest kid ever made. (She's a little bit sick right now and had to make an extended stay at the NICU. So send up a prayer for her, would you?

*Work BP is a mommy again to a beautiful little girl named Emalyn! Emalyn was born in China, and she will be yet another precious angel I know who came to their mom from a world away. I loved seeing my cousin Rachel as she brought home Amelia, and now my sweet friend is on the same journey. They will meet next year. But you should check out Work BP's blog for pictures. She's a cutie.

*Work BP is going to be a mommy again too! She's due to have her baby within the next few weeks, and I am SO excited she is finally getting her little girl that she has wanted for so long. Her "sprinkle" shower was so much fun, and it's awesome that she and Little Miss are going to be so close in age. I just KNOW that somehow those two are going to meet someday, somehow and become best friends.

*My cast comes off in TWO WEEKS! In fact, exactly two weeks from me writing this post, I will be dancing around in the street with no cast on. Can you say HALLELUJAH? I just have to make it through the next few days without losing my mind because I seriously can't wait.

Count Your Blessings. That way.....when the crud happens, you have something awesome to fall back on.

Happy Birthday, Little Miss!

2011-09-01T07:50:00.001-05:00

Guys, I wanted some happy.

And I know that a BUNCH of you people out there prayed for me to get it. And that meant the world to me. I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

And well, Little Miss must have heard that I needed some happy too. So she decided to make her appearance this morning at 5:30, three weeks early and super fast too.

Happy Birthday, Little Miss. Thanks for bringing the happy. Your Fairy Godmother loves you so much.

For the Love of Books: Ly's Book Baby Shower

2011-08-30T13:46:00.000-05:00

On January 17, Ly called and told me that she was expecting. Nothing is confirmed, she said, but that's what the test indicates. So what did I do? I ran out to Books-A-Million, put a present in a bag, and gave it to her with the instructions to not open until the doctor called her the next day to "confirm" that she was gonna have a little one.

That gift was the book "Guess How Much I Love You?" and in it, I told baby-to-be that I loved her the moment her mommy told me she was coming. And with that one gift, I gave Little Miss her first book.

So when it came time to talk about celebrating Little Miss' impending arrival, I knew I wanted to throw Ly a one-last-girls-night-in party/shower, and I wanted to do it with a book theme. Our friendship started when we were ten and we fought over which Baby-Sitters Club member was cooler (and I still argue today that Kristy is the Presidential tops.)

The party was scheduled for August 26 waaaayyy back in April, so I had designed and purchased my invitations waaaaayyyy back in July. I got this awesome deal that included these adorable invitations, book plates and book marks to give away as party favors. I was so proud of how cute these turned out. Don't you agree?

And then.....I broke my ankle. I called Ly in tears because our girl's weekend was going to be canceled. And she said during that same conversation that we could postpone the book shower. We could wait, she said, til after she got here. It would be fine.......but my broken ankle had already taken so much from me. I wasn't going to let it take away my party too. The stubborn part of me took over, and I spent the next week in a frenzy. I knew I had one week before my surgery to get everything done I needed to for the shower, and off to work I went.

I reworked my menu, got everything I needed to borrow plate and urn wise from Work BD and Work BP and had everything placed in the "shower" box by the Sunday night before I was cut open. The only thing that was missing was assembly and food. I was ready to go.

And everything turned out EXACTLY like I planned.

A big part of that (like a good 85% chunk) goes to my dear friend Libby. Libby offered to help me the night of, and she did EVERYTHING that I couldn't. She warmed food, she refreshed plates, she cut cake......she was incredible. She doesn't know how much I appreciate everything she did, because I literally couldn't have done it without her.

I also couldn't have done it without M who selflessly went with me during a last minute run to Michaels (which she hates) and Sy who stayed up late the night before moving furniture and setting things out. Best friends ever, right? Between the two of them, the Decorate-A-Bib station was a HUGE success. Ly now has ten adorable bibs for Little Miss to use.

And here's the finished product.

I loved the little "Golden Book" flags in the quiche. These were originally supposed to go in the Mini-Chicken Casserole Cups, but again.....broken ankle struck and I was no longer "able" in the kitchen. So I compromised, put these precious flags in miniature Spinach and Bacon quiche. I kinda loved the way they turned out.

Didn't that turn out adorable? And those place cards in front? Well, I'd named every dish so it would correlate with a children's book. "Green Eggs and Ham" Spinach Quiche. "The Rainbow Fish" Crab Cakes" Here is one of my favorites.

See? "Little Boy Blue" Cheese Strawberry Salad? HA! Loved it.

Don't forget the Strawberry Shortcake Jello Icebox Salad! It was right beside the "Chicken Little" Chicken Casserole my mother made for us since I was....lacking....in the kitchen.

Here is another one. "Green Gables" Spinach Dip and "Five Little Peppers and How They Grew" Red Pepper Hummus dip with "Dr. Suess Red Fish Blue Fish" Goldfish.

When I went to Work BD's baby shower the other night, she got these adorable light up rubber duckies. I know I'm 27, but I instantly wanted these to decorate in my bathroom. But before they went to their regular home on my tub ledge, I decided to decorate my beverage station with them.

They lit up in the urns, and I'm sorry if I do say so myself, but they were freakin' adorable. The drinks were book themed too. "Fancy Nancy Tea Party" Sweet Tea and "Pinkalicious Pink Drink" Punch.

And this was my favorite part of the whole evening. I found these sugar rimmers at the Old Mill in Pigeon Forge, and I bought the Cranberry Lime Sugar back in May especially for the party. How cute did this turn out with all of the hot pink?

But I think Ly's favorite part was the centerpiece of my big table. Little Miss is not actually named Little Miss. But her name is one of the main characters in Ly's favorite book growing up. (So basically, you got four guesses to be right without me telling you, huh?) Anyways, since that's her favorite and one of the main characters, I found someone who could make a book cake! Isn't this incredible?

It was SUCH a fun party. And I'm so glad I got to do something fun for Ly, despite being crippled (again, mad mad mad props to Libby. I owe her a Hunger Games movie ticket and so much more.)

And it was all worth it in the end, because Ly left with all of this for Little Miss. She's going to be one well-read and well-loved little girl.

Wanted: Some Happy

2011-08-30T08:31:00.000-05:00

I know I'm supposed to be learning a lesson through this whole ankle ordeal. Patience. Perseverance. Accepting help and being humble. And I suppose at the end of this process, which I learned yesterday will be a total of 12 weeks, I will learn all of those lessons.

But quite frankly, I'm mad.

I'm so mad that I can't even get myself to blog about the things that are good in my life lately. And I have SO many good stories. But I'm uninspired, and a big part of that is because I'm mad and I'm bitter.

-The biggie was giving up my Walk To Disney World and the trip on October 22.
-Then I had to give up school for a semester because of the exhaustion and lack of two good feet to get me across campus. Plus, I'm going to be spending my time in 6 weeks of rehab....and I can only take so much time off work to fit that in, ya know?
-Then there is the complete frustration of not being able to walk down my stairs normally or go to my car without working ever single muscle in my body.
-Forget going with my parents to Tennessee this past weekend. That wasn't going to be able to work.
-And even if it had and I'd gone to sit by the pool at the hotel like my mom suggested, I couldn't have gone swimming. That would ruin the plaster cast.
-Going to Wal-mart is an absolute nightmare of nightmarish proportions. I've got a whole blog on that.
-I can't go to the fair. What carnie in their right mind is going to let a girl in a cast get on the Ferris Wheel? So there goes the circus, Fried Oreos and the view from the top of the Ferris Wheel I loved so much last year.
-Shopping is impossible. I either have to find people to shop with me so they can push the buggy or I have to send people on errands.
-I miss wearing cute shoes. I miss this alot.
-I haven't cooked dinner in a month. I miss my casseroles and WW dishes.
-I miss my gym classes. I miss the treadmill. I miss feeling healthy instead of tired and sluggish all the time. I miss the man who barks like a gorilla when he gets on the elliptical. I miss the Eddie Murphy dance party. I miss Body Jam and kickboxing.

My doctor isn't making this process any easier. I'm just a number to him, which frustrates me to no end. During my first appointment post-surgery, I waited for 2 hours to see him. When he finally walked into the room to see me, he was literally in there for 45 seconds. I was livid. I had waited for him to grace me with my presence for less than a minute. So when I went back yesterday, I was armed with ten questions I was going to make him answer before he left my room so he would be forced to spend more time with me. I walked into the doctors office at 1:50. Two hours and 45 minutes later, I FINALLY got to see the doctor. I was so angry that I know I wasn't showing the love of Jesus to the nurses in the office.

The doctor has both a PA and a nurse that goes with him into each appointment. I love the PA, but the nurse, Serethia, is a pill. Plus, she jacked up my cast when I went before and had to have it redone the next day. So, when it came time to put the cast back on, I looked at the PA and the doctor and said, "She (pointing at the PA) can put my cast on, but she (pointing at the Wicked Nurse of the South) can not." My mom looked at me and told me to behave. "Excuse me, but I've just waited and 2 hours and 45 minutes to be seen. I think that gives me a right to say what I want about this cast." Livid. If you have an ankle problem, don't go to the busiest practice in Birmingham. They may have the most awesome doctors, but they are so busy they don't know how to give good patient care. We finally left the office 3 hours after we had arrived, which in my opinion, is absolutely ridiculous.

I really need something "happy." I know that's selfish, but I'm want to have something good to talk about instead of this mess. I'm thrilled for my friends who have good stuff going on, don't get me wrong. But I'm ready for "my" good stuff to talk about.....

Because right now, I'm uninspired, unenthusiastic and unimpressed. Pray for me some happy, please.

Everybody Lives Famous In A Small Town

2011-08-25T14:10:00.000-05:00

I always attended tiny schools. Even the public school I went to during that foray into 4th grade was relatively tiny. I just didn't know any differently.

So being from a small town and a small school, you had small town celebrities. That Miranda Lambert song "Everybody Dies Famous In A Small Town" is so true in the case of Vincent/Harpersville. I remember the horror that went through the small town when a certain "shoe-in" for homecoming wasn't crowned the Friday night prior. And I remember sitting on my front porch listening to the band play at the local football games on Friday nights and hearing the crowds roar and knowing someone just scored. (Not to say that our town was boring. We've had twins murdering husbands, preachers murdering wives and a guy who faked his own death and landed at the local motel. It's like the Bremuda Triangle of Weird News Stories where I'm from.)

When I was a little girl, I knew all of the fantastically exotic high school girls and I would go up to them for hugs and praises every time I saw them. When I was in elementary school, I would go to pep rallys and watch these fantastic girls cheer in front of the whole school, and all I wanted to do was be one of them one day. They would NEVER be my friendfriend, I though, because I was SO much younger, but they couldn't have been cooler in my eyes than if they were Julia Roberts themselves. (Ironically, Work BD was in on the younger side of this group of girls. And I consider her one of my dearest friends today.)

One of those girls was gorgeous (well many of them were, but......) She looked like Barbie. She was kind and sweet and funny and really seemed like she walked out of a Sweet Valley High: Southern Edition book. Her older sister was popular and her brother was a dreamboat. I remember going to basketball games and her brother was one of "those" kids. He was smart and funny and popular.

Fast forward about 15 years from that basketball game where he was the school star and his little sister the most beautiful girl in school. Their father needed a transplant. He was going to live the rest of his life on dialysis if he didn't. And that adorable high school stud looked at his sisters and insisted that he be the one to give of himself to save their father's life. Everyone in town knows about this, and everyone in town is praying for their whole family. I guess it didn't really hit me how amazing and selfless this act was until I read a blog written by the former Mr. High School himself who said that he just hoped his dad could enjoy his retirement now.

These guys are all hometown heroes and deservedly so. If I saw him or the beautiful Barbie doll looking girl right now, I would run up to them like I did when I was a little girl and hug them with more adoration than the 6 year old me did back then. Everybody dies famous in a small town, but in this case, no one is dying......they are just living.

You Make Me Feel Like I'm Livin' A......

2011-08-22T14:00:00.000-05:00

'

I am so obsessed with this kid. His name is Kellen Sarmiento, and he is known as the Mini Warbler. He is absolutely presh, and I don't really care if you like "Glee" or not, you need to watch this video.

And Ryan Murphy, put this kid on "Glee" already. Adorable!

Chatty Kathy Has Surgery

2011-08-22T08:46:00.001-05:00

I'd wanted a break from everything. A time when I didn't have to depend on my phone and when I could just relax. When I didn't feel pressured to blog. When I didn't feel like I had to check my Facebook. I got my wish in the worst way possible.

Monday, August 8th, I had surgery to repair my ankle for all the thousand ways I ruined it while at Body Combat. I'd done lots of stuff over the weekend to "prepare" myself for having surgery, but I learned very quickly that there isn't much you can do to "prepare" yourself for surgery. Oh, I'd spent all day on Sunday before cleaning my house out so everything would be clean and I'd played with the bestie the day before (later blog) trying to get in one last fun day before the pain started, but honestly, I didn't know what I was to expect.

Meg made it perfectly clear that I needed to eat a big meal for dinner the Sunday night before and save part of it to eat at 11::40 that night...before the mandatory "No eating, drinking, chewing gum, nothin...." rule took effect at midnight. And like a good little minion, I obeyed, eating my Momma G's nachos and half of a sandwich before going upstairs at exactly 11:55 to brush my teeth. I thought that rule seemed absolutely stupid. I mean, what happens if I eat at 12:10? What really could it hurt? But knowing me, I was way to scared to test it, and I obediently ignored my morning Powerade jonesing on Monday morning and headed off the surgery center.

I was told to arrive at 9:30. I got there at 9:34 and the nurse was already waiting for me. Apparently, that whole not eating thing IS important because the guy who had surgery scheduled before me hadn't obeyed the rules, and he was having to wait it out so they could give him the medicine. Therefore, Anxious Nurse was more than ready to get me started. I literally sat down in the packed out waiting room for at the most three minutes before she came and got me. I was thankful. That meant I didn't have that much time to overthink or get scared. Within moments of arriving at the surgery center, I was on a table with a hospital gown on.

I went into the surgery center stupid. You wanna hear what I was most worried about? The IV. I hate the word vein. I hate blood. I hate needles. I hate the thought of walking around with a thing stuck in your arm or hand. And I was TERRIFIED of the IV, not the surgery. My super sweet nurse Pat came in with the evil needles, and I demanded that she talk to me about something....anything....didn't care what it was but something. So Pat proceeds to tell me all about how disappointed she is in her daughter who is my age for not being more like her brother. Seriously. It kept me distracted at least.

When the doctor came in to mark my leg before surgery, my mother asked him if I could have the "powerful" drugs. You know....the ones that knock you out so much that you don't know that you are supposed to be hurting. I was perfectly ok with that, and the doctor said that would be best seeing as how I needed to be as still as possible.

So I remember going into the surgery room, and I remember closing my eyes and being extremely sleepy. The next thing I remember, I am in the recovery room across way from a woman wearing nothing but her bra and panties. Swear it. I see through my fog that my nurse has an Auburn button on her name badge, and I kept saying, "I'm an Auburn fan! I'm an Auburn fan! I'm so glad an Auburn girl is my nurse. I went to Auburn. Did you know that?" And while I'm not completely sure of the chain of events, I know I told the nurses that I graduated from Auburn and that I'm currently back in school and that I worked for Southern Living at HOME and that I want to be a teacher....and I'm "pretty" confident that I told them my entire life story. In fact, I remember Pat, my nurse with the wayward children, coming in and saying, "She is so adorable; what a Chatty Kathy, she is."

I got super sick at my stomach though while in recovery, and they had to give me medicine to make me feel better. What I didn't know at the time I was getting Phinegran pumped into my system was that the doctor had come out to tell my parents that I had survived the massive scrapping of scar tissue and binding of ligaments and setting of the break and insertion of the screw. He told them to give me about 30 minutes in recovery and then I'd be ready for them to come back to me. But an hour and a half later, my parents still hadn't seen me. Apparently, all the other waiting families were slowly leaving the waiting room, leaving Mike and Sandra there wondering where the heck their daughter was. Leave it to me to cause a little drama, eh?

Before I left, they gave me a Diet Coke and a package of crackers that had never tasted so good in my entire life. It was almost 2:30, and I hadn't eaten anything since 11:30 the night before. I was starving. And right before I left, they gave me the first dose of the knock out medicine. My mother was anxious to get me home before I fell hard asleep, so off we went from the surgical center.

But what my mother didn't expect was that I would have a quite different reaction to the medicine. Instead of knocking me out, my pain killers wound me up. I literally couldn't shut up. I kept talking and talking and talking....more than usual, let me tell ya. I told my mother about every single television show I'd ever watched. I talked about work and my friends and Disney movies and my neighbors and the soap operas and movies and.....on and on and on. I would fall asleep for about 45 minutes and then wake up for 2 hours. I repeated the patter for about 48 hours. It made me a wild lady.

I've learned how to forget all about dignity and integrity and ask for help doing dumb things like bathing. (Well....asking for help doing that only came after I fell out of the shower. The bruise on my thigh is larger than my hand.) And I've learned that surgery isn't the walk in the park and picnic on the beach I was expecting.

Not-So-Perfect Life Of A Preacher Or His Wife

2011-08-19T12:34:00.001-05:00

I want to share all of the stories of my fun filled week. But I've had something on my heart that's preventing me from telling the funny stories, and I'm going to talk about it. Because that's what blogs are for, right? Someone said they are for sharing your stories or what's on your mind....so here goes.

Too often, we idolize church "leadership" thinking they can do no wrong. We look to them for guidance because we often are led to believe that they live storybook lives and the fact that they "do God" for a living makes them a perfect example to follow. So often, I hear people say "Well, my preacher believes that....." or "If Rev. So and So thinks this then....." and not looking to their own faith. And that gets them into trouble. You have to make your faith your own, because if you rely to heavily on those people, you will more than likely be disappointed if you knew the truth behind their dirty laundry.

For example, how would you feel if you learned your minister's wife was emotionally cheating on her husband? If you read the flirtatious text messages between her and her new "boyfriend" would that make you faith quake too? What would you think about her Bible verse Facebook posts then and her inspirational Twitter messages? Make them pretty mute wouldn't it. Baby Cousin A uses the word "hypocrite." That'd be appropriate here, I think.

What would you do if you learned that your preacher was actually gambling away money he had borrowed as a loan from his parishioners? Would it make you think more about the fancy tie he was wearing with his new suit than the sermon he was preaching? Would you become so focused on his sins and the fact that he stole money from you that you no longer try to fix your own issues?

All I'm saying is, quit putting blind faith in your church leadership. Because sometimes, the perfect little youth minister's wife is the one text messaging an old fling while her hubby is up there preaching the word. And you shouldn't let her dirty skeletons affect your own faith. You need to be solid ON YOUR OWN. Because I guarantee if we knew everything about that person we base so much of our faith and expectations on instead of the Father, our faith would be on spiritual quicksand.

"Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him"

I'm Baaaaacccccckkkkkk!!!!!!!!

2011-08-15T22:24:00.000-05:00

I'm baaaaacccccckkkkkk!!!!!!!

Whew. What a ridiculous week I've had. I have SO many new stories and tales to share, starting with the Saturday of the Last Hurrah!, the day of the surgery, my (new) perspective on handicap facilities and accesssiblity, and SO much more. So if you haven't gotten bored with the nothingness of silence here over the past few days, then I have some fun entertaining things for you over the next few days.

Getting better over here. Get excited.

Surgical Expecations

2011-08-05T15:00:00.000-05:00

If you have emailed/texted/called me in the past few days, chances are unless it's been super important, I haven't gotten back with you. Ever since I discovered that surgery was scheduled on my ankle for Monday morning, I've been running around like a crazy woman getting everything completed.

Surgery meant:
*No trip with the bestie. Ly's and mine's "Last Hurrah" trip to Tennessee was canceled due to the fact that walking was going to be a challenge. This was disappointing in so many ways. But we are intending to spend all day tomorrow doing girlie things and ignoring our cellphones, and perhaps someday, we will make a girl's weekend happen.

*WebMD was searched extensively trying to figure out just exactly what they are going to do to my foot. Part that included an accidental Google Image search where I saw the big metal wrench they are putting in my foot. Can you say, "traumatic?" I learned a valuable lesson: nothing good comes from using Google as a medical encyclopedia.

*I had to get a load of stuff done at work since I'm going to be out for a whole week. I haven't been off work for an entire week at a time since I was an intern at Southern Living At HOME. And irony of ironies, that week was the same week in August as well.....although that was in 2007. And I was an intern then who had completed all of the big projects for the year. Me taking off was a piece of cake, and the biggest thing I missed was my fellow intern trying to get dirt on Work L and her boyfriend. Now....not so much. I'm so nervous about being gone for a whole week. But it's not like I had another choice.

*Cleaning my house became a priority. The fantastic lady who cleans my house is coming my way on Tuesday, and since I'm going to be under the knife on Monday, everything has to be in order so she can deep clean---and deep clean she does.

*Shower tidbits had to be completed. I'm throwing a Build-A-Library Shower for Ly on August 26th, and that's right in the middle of me wearing the fantastic plaster cast they've promised me. I've been working overtime to get as much done on the shower as possible so that I don't have to worry about it after surgery. Invitations are ready for mailing tomorrow, gift bags are stuffed, Work BD was SO unbelievably gracious and brought me the serve ware I needed to my work (because she truly is incredible......gah. I miss her and BD every single day.) Everything is taken care of except a few printed pieces and the food, and the menu is done.

*It also meant I had to have my refrigerator by the end of the week. So when Sears called and said the one I'd chosen was on back-order until August 20, I flipped. I went immediately to HHGregg, picked one out, and had it delivered today. Seriously, people, do not buy a home appliance anywhere else. The sales people are incredible, the delivery guys are friendly and efficient and I received awesome service at a great price. But there's a story to this one.....

The delivery guys delivered my AWESOME appliance to my house around noon, and as usual, they were professional and incredible to work with. My new fridge was sleek and stylish and ready to be slid into the spot in my kitchen....and the cabinet is 1/4 to low....meaning it doesn't fit in the spot allocated for the fridge. I measured so carefully!!! So now, my new fridge is basically sitting in the middle of my kitchen. Sigh. Anyone good with a chainsaw so my fantastically space-age fridge can go to it's true home?

So that's why I've been quiet this week. And that's why you probably won't hear from me this week. I'm working on getting everything done, so don't judge me if I seem spastic.

So send some pixie dust my way on Monday. I've never been under anesthesia before, so I'm sure I'll have some wild stuff coming out of my mouth. See you all on the flip side.

The Trampy Necklace: Why Modesty Talks Need Refurbishment

2011-08-02T17:00:00.000-05:00

I found a new blog that has sort of made my mind start working overtime. And I'm going to link to the blog, but I want to provide a few thoughts of my own.

I have very different views on things than many people realize. I'd love to sit and talk with you about them sometime. But ironically, I think a lot of my liberal thought comes from growing up in an extremely conservative Christian household in an extremely conservative Christian denomination. And yes, friends of mine who read this. It is a denomination. (Definition of denomination: a subgroup within a religion that operates under a common name, tradition, and identity. Let's quit confusing the world and saying we are anything else. In fact, even more proof that it is a denomination is the creation of a camp that is solely based on the principles of said denomination that acts as a recruiting tool for a college based, again, on the principles of said denomination. You get my point.

I never went to the camp I mentioned above. I thought about it one summer and wished I'd gone. But that was also the summer I'd heard through the grapevine that Baby Cousin L got in trouble because her shorts didn't touch the tip of her knee and she'd almost gotten sent home for dressing immodestly.

Church legalism is bad. It just is. And I could sit here and go on a tangent about all the things that frustrate me, but that's not why I started writing this. I wrote this because I wanted to share an awesome blog I read about modesty. So click here, read the blog, and then come back to me.

The blogger is absolutely and completely right. Modesty discussions are my least favorite topic of religious discussion as well. And before you start saying, "You don't like it because you are guilty, Katie." I'd beg to differ. You go through my closet, and we can discuss the items in there. No, I don't like it for many of the reasons the blogger gives.

Think about it: how many sermons have you heard on modesty that spread the "blame" 50/50? How many sermons have you heard where a man stood up in a pulpit and told the women of the congregation to "class it up" because we are harming our Christian "brothers?" How many sermons have focused on women adorning themselves properly and then throwing in Proverbs 31 in for good measure?

One of my favorite quotes from the comments on the post is this: "While scripture advocates modesty, it does not define it." There is no verse saying that I can't wear dress pants on Sunday morning, but makes them totally OK on Wednesday nights. There is no verse that says that my Tempo shorts are evil to work out in. The most ridiculous thing I ever heard was that a lady said that long necklaces were evil because they fell over a woman's chest area. Really? So you mean to tell me that my pink long stone necklace that I wear with my white turtleneck is evil?

I get that you have to do a lot of interpretation of the scripture. I'm not stupid or naive enough to think that just because God didn't specifically include a verse that says "Thou shalt not wear a thong in public without pants." that wearing a pink one to work would appropriate. However, I think.....and this is just my opinion....we are putting in a lot of rules that shouldn't be there in the first place. Modesty should focus on building up a girl's dignity and respect of herself, not a fear of serving her male counterparts.

Just.....go read the article.

http://www.jesusneedsnewpr.net/i-dont-want-to-see-your-boobs-a-blog-post-about-modesty/

It explains it a lot better than I ever could. Have self-respect because YOU respect yourself and your Father, not because the rules tell you to.

I leave you with one of my favorite points from the article:

People’s ideas about what is/isn’t modest vary greatly. In other words, one Southern Baptist church’s “Godly Girl” wearing shorts and a comfortable t-shirt can be a Pentecostal church’s harlot. And women often become labeled by the clothes they wear or the ones they don’t wear. It’s difficult to talk about modesty without getting way too interested in details and lines and saying THIS is immodest and THAT is modest. Modesty rules breed legalism, mean-spiritedness, and pride.

On My Fear of Babies

2011-08-02T00:00:00.001-05:00

Confession time. Babies make me extremely uncomfortable. If they are under 3 months old, I'm terrified that I'm going to hurt them or their head is going to fall off or that I'm going to do something or send a vibe that's going to screw them up emotionally for the rest of their lives. My theory is that they can sense my fear when I hold them, and therefore I transmit bad mojo into their characteristics.

So, I don't hold babies under 3 months. When I was 12, a dear friend had a baby, and she made me sit down in the rocking chair in the hospital room and hold him. The whole time, I was afraid he was going to collapse in my arms. That child is now 15. And other than having some people thrust babies in my arms without me asking, I didn't voluntarily hold another baby until last Christmas.

I remember this one girl at church had a newborn. He was MAYBE 8 weeks old. Still at that fragile baby stage. She didn't ask me if I wanted to hold him. She just said, "Here!" and poof, there was little mister in my arms. And this baby who hadn't made a peep in church all day suddenly started WAILING. I kid you not. I'm just not good with them.

J made me hold her little man back in December, and I knew going into the hospital that day that holding him was inevitable, despite my fear. She and I had been good friends for a long time, and she was quite insistent that I get over my fear. And somehow, I mustered up the courage, and I held him. He'd only been in the world for 24 hours when his grandma gave him to me, and I didn't break him! I felt this was an overwhelming success. And precious he was.

And I think J making me hold L made me feel what I felt yesterday. So....thanks J!

Yesterday was Ly's Big Baby Shower. I honestly think there were maybe 50 people stuffed into one of her friend's houses, all wanting to give Ly tons of stuff for Little Miss. And oh my gosh at the things Little Miss got. She has more monogrammed clothes than she will ever need. And Ly is going to have to change her three times a day in order for her to get to wear all of those clothes she got at least once.

But looking at all of the pretty pink stuff made me really really excited for Little Miss to get here. Like, I honestly can't wait to see what she looks like and to hold her and play with her.....and then of course, give her back to her mommy at the end of Aunt Katie time. But....I just kept seeing all of the little outfits and thinking, "I wonder if I'll get to see her wear that." And, "Oh, I hope Ly puts her in that outfit before she comes and meets me for lunch with her."

And....I got REALLY excited about holding her. Like, I'm going to hold her on the first day she's here! And although her mommy and I are about 85% the same person, I'm going to teach her all about the other 15% she needs to know about.......like Auburn University and Disney Princesses and why glitter is important for every little girl to know about. All of that pink and all of the colors that she's actually going to be wearing makes it so exciting and real that she's coming.

And I can't wait for Little Miss to get here. She's going to be a Disney Princess, ballerina-loving tomboy who loves pirates and glitter and John Deer trucks and fire-hydrants. And after this past weekend, I can't wait for her to get here so I can hold her and cuddle her and love on here on the day she gets here. I'm proud to say I'm not scared of Little Miss at all. (Now, watch me do something that first day that traumatizes her for life. Just my luck..........)

Because M Said So......

2011-08-01T12:00:00.000-05:00

M told me my blog about my foot and lack of Disney was depressing and that she felt sad for me. I told her that I had already started writing something peppy, but that I appreciate the prodding. So this is my way of saying, "Hey M! I heard you loud and clear. I've got happier stuff coming. I promise!"

Stay tuned.

And don't worry. Be happy.

Merry Christmas With A Side of Pixie Dust

2011-08-01T09:13:00.001-05:00

Wow. People really want me to go to Disney. Personally, I think people just want to hear about me stalking Walking Ariel. But my really good friend Princess A told me on the phone Thursday night that I should not discredit my accomplishments so far. And I'm not. People I walked to the Georgia/Flordia state line before this happened. That's huge. In January, I would have told you that you were nuts if you said I would have walked that far. So I'm proud of myself, don't get me wrong. And I will celebrate. But I can't do it until I reach my goal. Anything less is cheating.

I got some really awesome suggestions though:

*Someone told me I should find out how many calories would equal walking to Disney if I cycled there. I liked this idea, and I've actually been tracking my bike miles since January as well. In fact, in bike miles, I've already hit the Magic Kingdom and am on my way back to Birmingham. Granted...I'm just outside of the tollroads, but in bike miles, I'm easy peasy there. Maybe once I get clearance from the doctor, I could try this. But since it's my ankle...it may be awhile.

*Someone suggested that I should "row" my way to Disney. I kinda love this idea. As soon as I figure out where a "rowing" machine is. At this point, the Doc told me not to do any upper body exercises cause I think he's afraid of jarring stuff up.

*Someone else suggested that I need to take into account all of the classes I've taken and all of the extra work I've done in that arena and take that into account on my journey. Between the BodyJam, the Zumba, the BodySteps (waaaaaaay back in February) and the new favorite BodyCombat, I'd probably have enough calories burned to get me at least to Universal Studios. I have taken no fewer than two classes and no greater than five classes per week since February, so this option is completely viable.

But no matter what great arguments my friends give me, I'm not going until I walk to Disney. That was the whole point of this. I'm staying at one of the nicest properties on Disney. I'm eating at the nicest restaurants and going to the nicest shows. It's a celebration....and doing all of that stuff without actually making the miles is just wrong and will inevitably cheat me out of the entire experience. It won't seem right.

So...I'll know for sure this afternoon what the plan is. And then we can go from there. I'm still going to Disney World to celebrate once my magical Excel sheet turns pink when the number hits 550. (And trust me. The nerd in me has already added the formula so it says in big purple letters YOU DID IT! when that particular cell says 550.)

In all honesty, it will probably be around Christmas. So no Food and Wine Festival for me. No Tangerine Mimosa or a-freakin-mazing sample size beef sushi from Japan....and the amazing chicken that we ate from the Mexican stand? Nope. And that strawberry shortcake I planned to try at the Australian booth the moment I got there? Not gonna happen. BUT, maybe I will get to enjoy snow on Main Street, Santa Claus and Christmas ornaments and listening to Christmas carols while laying out on the beach at the Polynesian. So there is a bright side to this after all, eh?

A Pal Who Needs Prayer

2011-07-28T00:00:00.000-05:00

Despite the "brokenness" of my life lately, I'm a lucky girl. I have had more people show their love for me in the past few days than I could EVER imagine. It's the gosh honest truth that when stuff like this happens, you find out who your real friends are. They are the ones who offer to bring you cupcakes (but PLEASE don't. My non-exercising dieting butt can't take it) or come make you dinner or offer to bring you lunch to work. And I can't tell you how much it meant to me. It never fails....and I don't know why it surprises me.....but it is always those people you don't expect who care the most. Love the way that works out.

But again, I'm lucky. And while I covet your prayers for silly things like my dumb trip to Disney getting back on schedule and that the pain in my leg will go away so I can clean before my new refrigerator gets here (remember....broken stuff.....), there are others in life who need prayer too.

One of the coolest things that's happened through my blog is that I've grown a relationship with my cousin Rachel. We've tried for months to get together so I can meet her newest precious kiddo and let me play with her oldest girlie who is super cool and quite hilarious. Through our blogs, we've emailed back and forth and become "virtual" friends. She's super precious, but I'm not surprised by that. Her entire family is really. I've told the story on here on how super cool I thought Rebecca was when I was little....and now I get to see them during the holidays each year, and it's fantastic.

Their dad also reads this here blog. And he's sick right now. Really sick. And I know that both R&R and their family and my family would appreciate it. He is a super fun guy who is a "pal" to lots of cute kiddies and a great Auburn fan and a really cool man who could use a line or two...or more....of your prayers at night.

So....I know I keep asking you to pray for me and all the junk in my life. But maybe forget about me when you read this and pray for him? And maybe.....when he's well, he'll have a friend offer to bring him a dozen cupcakes too.

Stuck In Jennings, GA

2011-07-27T11:00:00.000-05:00

You wanna know what's unfair?

I went to the gym on Sunday to workout. I was intending to spend 3 hours at the gym, doing an hour on the elliptical, getting mileage in for my walk to Disney World, then an hour doing Body Combat and another hour doing Zumba. And then I got hurt. One kick went wrong and the whole basis for my exercising went down the drain.

See, I started this weight loss routine back on January 26th. It was a Wednesday, and I determined right then and there I was going to change the way I live. And I think I did that. But my whole program hinged upon one week.

October 22, I was going to board a plane in celebration of the fact that I had walked my way to the doors of the Magic Kingdom. It was going to be five days of perfection that had been planned out extensively. And I was going to have my picture made with Walking Ariel and Prince Eric to celebrate my achievement. We were going to the Luau at our fantastic room at the Polynesian Resort and eat dinner at the California Grill and Cinderella's Castle....all to celebrate the fact that I had walked my life away for the past few months.

And with one kick gone wrong, that's all over. And I'm sad.

There will be no Disney trip in October now. There's literally no way I can walk the remaining 160 miles needed to get there. I was on track to get there, walking an average of 5.7 miles at the gym. Crazy to think I'd worked my way up from the 2.2 I did at the gym in the beginning. Even if they take the boot off of me in 6 weeks (which I'm doubting with the words "surgery" and "ligaments" being kicked around) I'd have to hoof it to make my goal, and I'm going to be so out of shape that who knows if that's going to happen.

And here's the extra fun part. I did the calculations again last night after discussing this with Cousin H. I passed the Georgia/Florida state line on Sunday before I broke my foot. I'm LITERALLY one mile into Florida. I just reached the home stretch and then BOOM.

All my reservations and plans for the Food and Wine Festival are gone. To make that, I'll have to postpone my trip to next year. And I kinda don't want to wait that long. And besides, it looks like my three vacation days are going to be set aside for surgery instead of a vacation.

Am I depressed? Yeah. I know I am a blessed girl. I KNOW this is a silly, silly, SILLY thing to stress about, especially in light of other things going on. But I'm still sad. (And my foot is killing me at the moment, so I am having a pity party. Sue me.)

So goodbye Food and Wine Festival. Goodbye Walking Ariel. Goodbye Cousin H's Birthday Dinner at the Epcot Princess Restaurant. Goodbye Wishes! Dessert Party. Goodbye Walk To Orlando October 2011 Edition. For now, it looks like I'm stuck just past the Florida state line. I'm going to go cry in my princess blanket.

Broken, Literally.

2011-07-24T22:24:00.002-05:00

I discovered a new class.....Body Combat. Honestly, it was one of the best workouts I've ever done. I did my first entire class last Sunday, and I was hooked. 100% hooked. We had a substitute instructor last week, but this week, my absolute favorite instructor was taking over the class, PLUS taking over the Zumba class immediately after. I went into today pumped about the workout and excited about how awesome my Sunday afternoons were going to be now. So despite having a pretty gnarly headache, I went to the gym, elliptical'd my five miles and mosey'd down to Body Combat promptly at 1:30.

As Traci, the super awesome Wonder Woman of an instructor, led the class, I was already excited. I'd worn good clothes, I'd brought ice cold water, and I was ready to envision the week of broken machinery as my villainous target for this class. Every punch was going to represent the crappy week that was last week. And I was already feeling good as we made our way through the first combat routine.

The second combat routine consists of the following moves. You do two knee lifts with one foot, a kick with the other, a back kick with that same leg and then a jump/knee lift combo with the original foot. You do this over and over again and then you switch sides. Completely incredible ab workout. Serious stuff. We do start with the right foot, and I kinda land a little strange on it. It has a little twinge in it, so I start thinking that maybe I'm a little TOO into the workout and I need to pull back some. I guess I started over-thinking it too much because once we switched sides, I really wasn't in focus and I made a stupid, stupid move.

When we did the other leg kicks, I did my knee-lift, knee-lift combo, kick and my back kick and then I jumped with my right foot while lifting up my left leg for the jump, knee lift combination. And something funky must have happened, because when I put my left foot on the ground, it completely rolled to the side and I heard this crunching sound come from my ankle.

I immediately know somethings wrong and I limp back to the back of the classroom, avoiding round house punches and kicks along the way from the other girls. Class continued, and I didn't want to make a scene, so I left the room. I started to sit on the bench outside of the room, and I started to limp my way over there, but this rush of nausea started to creep over me from the pain, and I knew I needed to get to the locker room and fast.

I feel faint and I move two of the benches together so I can lay down for a moment. I can feel my pulse beating in my ankle area, and I take my shoe off and notice this huge goose-egg that has formed on the side of my foot within five minutes of the injury. I know my workout is done for the day, and I attempt to put my shoe back on......and that's not happening. My foot has swollen so that my sneakers have been rendered useless.

Hobbling my way out of the gym, I wonder if anyone is going to say anything to the girl with tears streaked down her face, limping out of the gym with her bag in one hand and her shoe in the other, but no one says anything. The trainers and the managers were all pow-wowing around the televisions in the front desk, and no one even bothered to ask me what was wrong. Great customer service, eh?

I know that it's broken at this point. I've broken this foot twice in college and once when I was a 2 year old. It's a fragile spot, and I just had "that" feeling. So I call my mom and tell her I'm headed to the local hospital. If it's a big break, I know they are going to have to set it. If it's a fracture, well, at least they can give me some pain medicine until I go to the "real" doctor tomorrow.

My mom makes the great suggestion to head to the 7 day a week clinic near my house. They have an x-ray machine, and the wait (and the co-pay) won't be as frustrating since it is a small clinic. So she picks me up and off we go.

Nurse WhiteCotton (is that not the greatest name you've ever heard? So Southern and fantastic) is my person, and she and I bonded right away. She is a Zumba-er and felt my pain at a class turning on you like this one did. And when she came to get me, she put me in a wheelchair. Now, I'm 27 years old, and I realize I should be embarrassed to admit this, but I've never been pushed around in a wheelchair before. It felt so completely awkward having all of these people stare at me as she pushed me down the hall to the X-Ray room.

Turns out, it's fractured. The doctor on call isn't an orthopedist by any stretch, but it's the same area that I broke before in college, if not a bit higher on the ankle bone. (He didn't have the old x-rays to compare it to.) Thank the Good LORD in Heaven I didn't have to have it set. I don't think I could have handled the pain. I'm in a temporary cast like contraption (not a boot.....to heavy and caused too much pressure with the weight) and crutches until I can see the ortho tomorrow. It's throbbing like something fierce right now, but I'm trying to be a trooper and not take too many meds, cause that'll just make me feel worse.

So, it's obvi that I'm out of my dance classes for awhile. No Zumba either. And my new love for Body Combat? Well, since it turned on me, (and causes lots of pressure on one leg at a time) I'm out of that one as well. I've been Google-ing Cardio with Broken Foot all evening, but the best I've got is swimming, and honestly, I don't know if I could do that right now with the ankle like it is.

And I'm worried about what this is going to do about my walk to Disney. I promised myself I wasn't going if I didn't make my target. I think my mother is going to call them and see about possibly postponing it and how much money we will lose if we do. I can't go and reward myself for walking to Disney in October if I haven't done it. That's not right.

So frustrating and a crappy finish to an already crappy week. When my mother picked me up, she said, "Wasn't it enough for you to have a broken fridge, air conditioner and car? Did you really have to break a body part too?"

So, I'm sitting here, typing this, with my leg propped up, wishing for the first time ever that my master bedroom was on the bottom floor and thinking that my computer is looking a wee bit fuzzy, which I think is from the painkiller that I'm currently on.

Just...say a prayer for me, please. I REALLY need for things to quit breaking. And I REALLY need for the drama to stop, because it'd be super nice to have a calmer week. And PLEASE pray that the ortho tomorrow gives me a good boot so I can get rid of these stupid crutches. Do you know how hard it is to maneuver crutches while walking upstairs?

Here's to staying whole......at least for a week, I hope.

I'm Just A Summer Girl: Blog Challenged

2011-07-24T10:00:00.000-05:00

I got blog challenged by Ericka. What she doesn't realize is that this challenge is exactly what I needed as the inspirational pixie dust just hasn't come my way the past few days.(I like May. I like June. I like August. I've not had a good July though in almost 5 years. So frustrating.)

So to get this post started, go YouTube "Summer Girl" by Jessica Andrews. One of my favorites. And here's chorus.

Cause I'm just a summer girl

I wear my flip flops

And when I let my hair down

That's when the party starts

And who needs a boyfriend

I've got my girlfriends

And when we get together

The summer never ends

If I had to rank my favorite seasons, well, summer wouldn't be first. I like winter the best, followed by fall and then summer comes in the bronze medalist spot. I love the heat and the sun, but I get kinda sad this time of year since I can only enjoy the hot, fantastic weather on the weekends. When I didn't have to work a full time job, I'd spend hours and hours and hours in the pool, and now? I'm as pale as a white piece of computer paper. I guess I just miss getting to enjoy summer since I'm now part of the working stiffs.

But I do still enjoy things about summer.....and here they are my favorite summer things:

*Christmas In July on Magic 96.5*

Ok, ok, ok. So technically, this ISN'T related to summer. But it's one of my favorite weekends of the year. I absolutely love Christmas and Christmas music, and there is something awesome about driving in your car with your shorts and your sleeveless t-shirt and listening to Burl Ives and Nat King Cole sing about Holly Jolly Christmases and chestnuts roasting on an open fire. I swear, it's one of my favorite things all year.

In fact, this weekend is the glorious weekend. In fact, I'm sitting outside writing this post in my shorts and t-shirt in the extreme heat listening to Josh Groban singing "I'll Be Home For Christmas." It's like a special sneak preview of my absolute favorite time of year, but doing so while completely messing with my mind. It's awesome.

*SnoBiz*

I absolutely love when the SnowBiz opens for the summer and you pay $1 for a cupful of icee goodness. There is a place near work that gives you a huge cup for a dollar, and it's the best dollar you will spend all summer. I'm a creature of habit, and I can't help but love the wedding cake syrup. It's a mix of watermelon and vanilla, which sounds awful, but it's glorious. And I've started getting half wedding cake and half strawberry colada, and that gives it a punch that is awesome. (And just for note, I'm now listening to Carol of the Bells as I continue writing.)

*FlipFlops*

Shoes are a weakness of mine. I have entirely too many, and I need to give half to the Goodwill. Seriously, it's a problem. But no matter how many pairs of shoes I have, I have a love affair with my Rainbows. 9 times out of 10, I strive to find someway to wear an outfit that goes with my beloved Rainbows. In fact, the other day, my mom and I were going to see "Larry Crowne" (awesome movie-go see it.) and I was still wearing my work clothes. I was in jeans and a nice shirt, but I felt constricted by my shoes. Before we could go the theater, I HAD to go home and change footwear. I ended up in a pair of shorts, and of course.....my beloved Rainbows. I have to buy the more expensive ones because of the arch in the foot for my flat feet, but its' totally worth buying it. Invest! They are fantastic. (And now, I'm hearing Faith Hill asking "Where Are You Christmas?")

*Vacations*

Summer is the perfect time for weekend getaways, and there is nothing more awesome than running away for a weekend in the heat to get away from it all. Beach? Been there, done that. Gatlinburg? Already checked off my list. I've got one more girlie weekend to make up for the Taylor Swift concert that wasn't, and then I will have had three awesome trips this summer, and that makes me smile. (And now? Clay Aiken "Oh Holy Night.")

*Summer Fashion*

I won't lie. I love fall/winter fashion the best. Sweaters and pants and argyle, oh my. But there IS something about the bright colors of summer and the cute bathing suits (even though I have no access to the pool. Perhaps I can beg Ly to let me use her pool at least once before the summer is over so I can use my precious suit I bought at Old Navy this summer.) There is something so easy about throwing on a sundress and, yes, my trusty Rainbows and going to town. Granted, summer fashion does mean that some people take the point to far and wear pants that have less fabric than my underwear and shirts that show more than just wearing a sports bra would, but for the most part, it's easy and breezy and lovely. (Sting-I Saw Three Ships)

*Freedom*

There is a feeling of freedom during the summer. You still have responsibilities, but everything is a bit freer. Want to go to a movie at 10:25 in the evening? Sure! Why not? Want to sleep in on Saturday? Go right ahead. There is just a feeling of being able to do what you want as long as you are drinking a glass of lemonade and a slice of watermelon with it.

So those are few of my favorite summer things. Give me the freedom to wear whatever sundress I want while walking around in my Rainbows eating a SnowBiz and listening to Christmas music in the heat while I plan my next weekend getaway. Sounds like a good summer to me!

720 Hours

2011-07-21T11:00:00.000-05:00

As I sat and looked at refrigerators and budgets and worried over car parts and broken air conditioner thing-a-ma-bobs, I felt like the world was just kinda going to crap yesterday. And then I realized that I have to get my license taken today since it expires.....today. And it's pouring down raining out today, which means my hair is going to look ridiculous for the next four years in a picture that goes with me everywhere. That combined with the fact that I work with all men (at a job I love that gives me the opportunity to go to school....so I'm NOT complaining) but sometimes it's nice to have a girl pal who understands what it's like to be a 20-something single gal who does most of this stuff on her own. I was just feeling kinda "blah."

And then I went to that blog I shared with you the other day. The one about the little boy with the horrible tumor? www.jamescamdensikes.blogspot.com. Yeah, his mommy and daddy buried his little body today. One month ago, their little boy was alive and playing and running around. And now they are a mommy and daddy with a huge hole in their heart.

Sort of put my whole list of problems in perspective.

I can't get this family off my mind. I'm not sure why. My heart has always broken for sick children. I'm not like my friend B who knew from birth that she wanted to be a children's nurse, but if there is one thing that breaks my heart into a thousand pieces, it's a child who has gotten an unfair shake at life....the child who suffers.

Just promise me that you will pray for these people today. Your heart may not be touched like mine was. And that's perfectly fine. But guys, this poor family had their world FLIPPED in a matter of 30 days.

I mean, think about that. If you knew that in 720 hours your life would be completely different....that the one thing you hold most precious in your life was gone.........what would you do differently? What would you say to someone?

Please think about them. I won't dwell on this. I've talked about them twice now. But hug those you love a little tighter tonight, and think about the impact one tiny little boy named James had on so many people.

My Own Personal Comedy of Errors

2011-07-20T10:57:00.000-05:00

"Sometimes I feel like my life is a soap opera. And then I realize it's really just one big comedy of errors."

Truer words have never been texted.

I'm so uninspired to write this week. My lovely little white Explorer literally died in my driveway on Sunday, the cause to revive her being a pricy brand new alternator and other fun additions. Yay. Then I came home last night before going to dinner to find that my air conditioner in the upstairs of my house was on 91 and obviously broken. And my bedroom is upstairs, which made for an awesome sleeping experience last night. And finally I woke up this morning to discover that my refrigerator which was already slightly crappy anyways is broken as well leaving EVERYTHING in the bottom of the fridge sopping wet. UGH!

I wanted to go paint with LSB tomorrow night, but that's not happening because of all the drama above. Instead, I'm going to be spending the next few days looking at stupid refrigerators instead of the carpet I wanted so badly while driving a car that is loaned because mine is on a lifty thing in the mechanics shop right now being fixed.

There are only two things saving this week. The first being the fact that Gigi's Cupcakes is opening near my office. Normally, I would think this was horrible considering how much I love the gooey things and how close they are to my house. However, with today being an Eeyore kind of day, I'm extremely pumped about devouring one of these lovely treats as a sort of "Hey, it's ok to have a cupcake." kind of feeling.

The second is my new love for a class called Body Combat. It's basically kickboxing with dance mixed in and it might be the most amazing class I've done in a really long time. It's excellent. Basically, they tell you to imagine that someone is about to beat you up, but you are in a girl gang and that with all of your posse around you, you can tear the enemy to shreds. Oh my goodness. It's a workout. I pretended that I was beating up about five different people who irritate me on a regular basis. It was fantastic. And it helps me justify that lovely Margarita cupcake I'm planning to devour later on today.

Heaven help me and bring on the sugar.

Heartbroken

2011-07-19T14:27:00.001-05:00

Everyone has those "Facebook friends" that you haven't talked to in years, but you just can't quite bring yourself to delete because once upon a time, you were friends, right?

A friend of mine from college who I haven't spoken to since the day before my graduation in 2006 posted a link on her blog the other day.....to a story about a family I've never met, never will meet. But I have prayed for them more than anyone else in my life lately.

Will you pray for them too? Especially for the sweet momma who just lost her sweet baby boy?

The Internet connects us together for good and for bad. Please use your mouse for good today and send prayers to this family.

Katie and the Super Girl Quintfecta

2011-07-13T17:30:00.000-05:00

Ashley from the Mommyhood Adventure (and a few others who commented about my #9 on my last list) inspired this post. I'd commented on my "500" post that I was the worst cheerleader in CCS history. Her response to me was that all Christian School cheerleaders aren't that great because it's not like there are a lot of girls to pick from. And she's so right. I mean, I was one of two girls in my class. Think about that for a second.

1 of 2

Meaning that 50% of the Senior Class of 2002 was a member of the cheer leading squad. Go figure right?

But there is part of her comment that is so untrue that I had to post about it. I mean, I was the worst cheerleader on that squad because I lacked ZERO athletic ability. But the other girls on the squad......watch out. CCS back in the early 2000's was home of the meanest, most vicious, most athletic group of girls this side of the Mississippi. And that's no lie.

I had no athletic ability, but the other girls on my squad did. They cheered because there wasn't another sport to do at the time during football season, and once basketball season hit, that because their top priority. People would come to watch the girls play before the boys because these sweet, gorgeous looking Southern girls turned into venom-shooting, evil-eye glaring powerhouses once that buzzer sounded. At one point, there were twins on the team who ran circles around their opponents. My dad said he loved to watch them play then because it was like the whole team used their deception to trip up the other guys. It was like a bloodbath to watch.

There were 8 girls on the squad I cheered on, and 5 of them played ball my senior year. I'm going to call them the Super Girl Quintfecta. And since we were preparing for Nationals, we already spent a ton of time together. But those five were together ALL the time, and they would fuss like sisters off the court (I think at some point, we all did.) But when they got on the floor, it was like their brains suctioned together and they played together flawlessly. You wouldn't even know there were issues between them. They were aggressive and angry and pushy and......mean. Their faces would be red with a combination of passion and determination. They pushed and they got fowled and they elbowed........they became these basketball monsters...a true Quintfecta....and then.............

Then they'd get done playing ball, throw on their skirt and grab their poms and be out on the floor cheering for the boys with a bouncy ponytail and bringing along the girl drama high school girls know best.

Don't let me fool you. Cheerleading at CCS wasn't all glitz and glamor and short skirts and flirting with the football players. (In fact, the only thing in that list that IS realistic is the short skirt.) While I didn't do flips, everyone else did and worked hard at them. They wanted higher stunts and sharper movements and practices got intense when it didn't go just perfectly. I do remember there were LOTS of excuses, and when a stunt failed, it was never anyone's fault. And I remember that was one of our coach's pet peeves. Practices ran late and long. And at the end of the season, I had broken my wrist and cracked my nose, the other backbase had had major nostril drama with surgery and blood, the flier had a messed up knee, someone I "think" broke a finger, and someone else had a sore shoulder. We went to Nationals with braces and nose guards and honestly....I think we looked like we'd been in battle.

We had this stupid stunt....The Leap Frog. I've mentioned it on here briefly before, but basically, it knocked my friend D, the tallest of the SuperGirl Quadfecta, out of being the main base because it split her nostrils wide open and caused her to have this super intense surgery. So I had to learn it.....quickly. And I had about as much athleticism in my body as Sheldon Cooper. And I finally got it......the week before we left for Nationals. And wouldn't you know? The first day of Nationals, that flier slammed into me the same way she slammed into D. I went on stage with a big red nose and looked like I'd been beaten up in the group picture. My head was pounding grotesquely, and I just wanted to go sleep and go to Disney with my big bruised nose the next day.

I sat there in the middle of this huge auditorium, and.....I'll admit it....I prayed that we wouldn't make the finals. I hurt so badly and I was tired and ready for it to be over. And when they called our name out as Finalists, well....I think I cried a bit. I think I told people I was just so overcome with joy, but me and my big bruised nose went back out there and performed again the next day. We made the top 6, and now that I look back, I'm really glad we got to have the full experience. And my klutzy-nerdy-non-athletic self loves the look I get when I tell people that I was on a Nationals finalist cheerleading squad cause no one believes me. But at the time, I've never been so mad at winning something in my life.

Yeah....the girls at my high school? Not wimps. In fact, back then, they could have been in any street fight and easily beat down the local chain gang. They were fiery Southern athletes who proved to the boys they were up to the challenge and proved to their opponents that they didn't want to be messed with. I wasn't even remotely in their league. But for one year, I got to pretend I was as I stumbled through awkward jumps and tried to keep up with their power stunts while I made some pretty fun memories and some great stories to tell later.

(P.S. Can you figure out which girl in the above picture is me? Embarrassing!)

CCS OH YES! GOOOOOOOOOOOO CHARGERS!

The Strongest Thing I Will Ever Do

2011-07-13T08:00:00.000-05:00

My mother made a comment about me once that stuck with me. I was still in high school, and she was describing me to someone. And her comment went something like this. "Katie is will get so mad at you that she will spit nails and throw a tantrum. But one thing is for certain: she forgives easily and she doesn't hold grudges."

I'm a feisty person. I hate confrontations with people (some say I'm a complete pushover) but when you push me to my limit, I will get in your face and wag my first and act as ugly as they come to defend my position. And when someone crosses me across that breaking point line, I turn into this big ball of anger and rage. (Just ask King D who was in my graduating class. King D decided to hide my car keys from me one day. I think it was that plus a combination of other things, but I went bat crazy on him, yelling and screaming at the top of my lungs in front of like 10 or 15 of our friends. He'd pushed me too far......)

And that's just a silly example. I have a friend who I held a grudge towards for five years. It was deep in my heart and lived with me every single day. I talked about this person with disdain and hearing about what was going on in their life made me physically sick to my stomach. I never wanted to hear good things about them, and when I did, it affected me for days.

But then I heard a sermon that rocked my world and changed my perspective. I sat in church and had tears in my eyes when I listen to the preacher and felt my heart literally break for the anger I had in my heart.

Think of the person who you can't stand in this world......that person who has made you so mad you can't see straight and the person you hold a grudge towards. You can't stand them, can you? They did this to you. They did that to you. And they don't deserve anything, do they? But do you really hate that person so much that you want their bodies to become sick with disease? Do you really hate that person so much that you want to hear about their marriage breaking up? Do you really delight in hearing about them losing their job or losing their parents? And then the kicker.......do you really hate that person so much that you want them to spend eternity in hell? Because if you feel that way towards someone, then there is real problem with where your heart is.

I sat in the pew, stunned. I'd felt that way. And my heart was in SUCH a bad spot. How could I possibly claim to love Christ when I couldn't even love my brothers and sisters around me properly? Because this person was a child of Christ, and here I was hating something that my Father loved so dearly.

And if forgiving someone makes me a pushover and weak and feeble in the eyes of the world, then guess what? Call me weak and feeble. I'm OK with that. Want to know why?

Forgiveness isn't weak. It isn't feeble. It's one of the absolute toughest and rawest things you can ever go through. It's UGLY sorting through those feelings. It's NASTY and VILE working through emotions. People think forgiveness is this sweet and fluffy thing. Guess what? It's not. Forgiveness takes power and strength and confidence. It's about moving on and getting rid of the negativity and the hate and the resentment. And getting rid of things that nasty and to truly be able to say you have moved on is nothing short of

POWERFUL.

You may never want to grab a meal with this person. You may never want to be best friends and text and talk on the phone with them for hours. And it may hurt like heck when you see them out and about. And it WILL sting when you hear of what is going on in their life. But how can we look at someone and hope they rot in hell? We shouldn't hate anyone so much that we wish that fate on them.

You may call me weak. I call myself strong. You may call me feeble. I call myself empowered. You may call me a pushover. I call myself confident. You may call me stupid. I call myself a fighter.

I forgave that person. I let go of all of my hatred and resentment. And occasionally, I run into them and we make small talk about the weather and our jobs and our family and our life. And then, I blink and they are gone. But so are all of the things that held me back from letting go.

So maybe I do forgive too easily in the eyes of the world. But at least I can move on and see the good in people. And that's something that no one is going to make me feel inferior about.

500

2011-07-08T16:00:00.000-05:00

Happy 500th Post, Southern Soap Opera Blog!!!!!

Wow. I can't believe I have so much to say! (Yeah, right. We all know I'm a talker.) What a fun 3 years of posts it's been! And to celebrate, I thought I would tell you 500 things about myself! Ready for a super long list?

Just Kidding. :-)

I'm celebrating by backing up all of these fantastic memories, so that I will always have them, even when the Communists come and take over the United States and demolish the empire that is Google and all the apps (including Blogger) that come with it.

Again. Just kidding.

But I do think we should celebrate the Big FIVE ZERO ZERO!

How about 10 fun facts about me? One per every 50 posts. Perhaps things I've never written on this blog before. Sounds like fun, eh? And if there's one you'd like to hear more about, let me know! Perhaps we can do a post about it.

Katie's 500th Post Blog Reveal

1) As much of a Disney fan that I am, I've never seen "Lady and The Tramp," "Sleeping Beauty," "Oliver & Company," "The Aristocats," or "The Sword and The Stone." Shameful, isn't it?

2) When I get engaged someday, I don't want a traditional diamond ring. I want one that has colored stones on the side instead of white baguettes. Preferably either emerald or sapphire.

3) I can not stand Willie Nelson. I have hated him since childhood, and I'm not really sure why. I just remember being a little girl and hearing his voice on the radio and it hurt my ears. It's worse than nails on a chalkboard to me.

4) A guy named Bubba once asked me to a dance in middle school, and I told him no strictly because I hated the nickname Bubba. He was a sweet guy. But his name was Bubba, and he sweat a lot. So I checked the box "no." I've always felt guilty about that one.

5) My high school crush judged girls by comparing them to pieces of meat. The better the piece of meat, the more likely you were to be attractive to him. I was thrilled the day he called me a "rib-eye." Today, if a man called me a rib-eye, I think I'd punch him in the face. (Oh, wait........) The day he called the cute, skinny blonde a "a chicken finger" hours before our Winter Festival began still ranks as one of the funniest moments of my entire life. To most girls, that would be some sort of compliment. But in his eyes, it was important to be a piece of steak.

6) I helped murder my roommates' fish.

7) I secretly wish that I weighed like 100 pounds less than I do right now so that I could move to Disney World and audition to be a princess. As much as I would love to be Belle, I think since my face is round, I would either be Snow White or Alice.

8) I also secretly wish I was an Air Marshall. I loved the scene in Bridesmaids where the man really WAS an air marshal and ended up with Melissa McCartney's character. Oh my gosh. So funny. If you haven't seen this movie, go to the dollar theater and check it out. Hilarious. A little raunchy, but hilarious nonetheless.

9) I might have been the worst cheerleader Cornerstone Christian School ever had. I couldn't jump. My fat cow legs looked ridiculous in that skirt, but they especially looked ridonkulous in that stupid dress the head cheerleader from the year prior had picked out for us to wear (who I strangely saw last night with her kiddos. She didn't have a clue who I was, and it took me a minute to recognize her. She's the size of a toothpick.) I hated begging people to buy the stuff we peddled just so we could get to Nationals. I was mad when we made it to the second round of Nationals competition because it meant I wasn't going to get to spend a full day at Disney World while I was down there. (Disney over my teammates. See how bad I was?) I hated running. I hated climbing bleachers. But I did it. And my biggest regret from high school is that I only did it one year.

10) When I was in college, I thought texting was dumb. When my roommate would send them to me during my Freshman year, I would delete them cause I thought it was stupid. Why send me a message when you could just pick up the phone and call me? And IM on my phone? Even MORE stupid. Who needed to know where I was at all times? Yeah...........about that. Things change. So do people. I have a cellular addiction, and I'm not ashamed.

So there you have it. 10 things you may or may not have known about me that I haven't posted about. And celebrate the Southern Soap Opera! To five hundred more posts......and beyond!

Katie's Big Fabulous Southern Tour: Look At That Girl With Daisy Dukes On

2011-07-08T09:00:00.001-05:00

So now that there is no third leg of the Southern Tour, I will say that the two weeks I was gone ended up being really really fun days away from Birmingham. I came back with some stories, which is always my main focus in life, right? I caught up with some lovely friends I hadn't seen in awhile, spent quality time with the fam, and came back from Gatlinburg unknowingly with a replica of Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge's engagement ring. (Thanks Meg and Baby Cousin A for pointing this out so bluntly. I swear I only got it cause it was cheap and the sapphire was really pretty.)

And Tennessee was really, really fun. What an amazingly relaxing four days. Seriously. I so enjoyed my long weekend, and it felt so good to be back in the mountains for the Independence Day celebrations.The midnight parade....the fireworks.....the street festival.....it was all so so so so fun.

So rather than lessons from this trip, I just have stories. Lots of good ones. So let's start recapping, shall we?

My parents love this restaurant called The Pancake Pantry. It's the most famous restaurant on the parkway in Gatlinburg, and they could go their every single morning of the trip and be happy. Me? I can only do that much breakfast once or twice, but then I max out. Can't. Do. It. Anymore. So on this particular morning, I sat down with the parents and ordered a Dr. Pepper while they waited on their crepes and omelets. Downtown was seriously all-a-buzz with activity. The traditional Gatlinburg Midnight Fourth of July parade was that night, and people had started putting out their folding chairs at 7 in the morning. There were people everywhere, and the place was packed out. Even the Pancake Pantry had a big huge bear going around and greeting the customers at the restaurant. It was like a Disney character breakfast.

My father is friends with one of the managers of the Pancake Pantry, and when he came over to the table to say high, he pointed out someone and said, "You see that lady right there? That's the real Daisy Duke."

So I look over and see a waitress with bleach blonde hair and relatively big boobs. Hmm, interesting, I thought. Daisy Duke has fallen from such stardom that she's now a waitress at the Pancake Pantry. I continue sipping my Dr. Pepper, and I ask my dad's friend if Daisy Duke is going to be our server. "What?!?" He replies. "No, that's her at the table right next to you. Shes' the grand marshal in the midnight parade tonight."

I then look at the table to see an extremely Botox'd woman getting up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down to take pictures with other people in the restaurant and sign autographs. I overhear her waitress tell her that she knows she must stay trim and lean by all of the getting up to meet fans that she does.

Well, I've never seen an episode of The Dukes of Hazzard and my knowledge of Daisy Duke extends only to knowing that Jessica Simpson lost like a thousand pounds to play the part in the movie. But you know what I did, don't you? I got up out of my seat and asked Ms. Duke for a picture.

Turns out, her name is Catherine Bach. She had her two gorgeous daughters with her and was thrilled that they were going to get to be on the float with her. She snapped a picture with me and when she saw that it wasn't great of me but awesome of her, she made me take another one. She got her daughter to come over and take it with my phone since my mom didn't know how to snap it. She asked where we were watching the parade from and asked my name several times so that she could refer to me by in during our conversation. She was one of the nicest celebrities I've ever encountered. I mean, she may have looked pretty fake with all the Botox and the obviously fake chest, but she was so completely genuine. I mean.....I was just blown away by how gracious and friendly she is. One of the sweetest random encounters I've ever had.

So, here is my picture meeting Daisy Duke.

I think she and Dolly Parton would get alone. Dolly once said that fans coming up to her and asking for autographs never annoyed her because it meant they still cared. She also said it took a lot of money to look that cheap.

I think Daisy and Dolly would get along swimmingly.

CANCELLED: Katie's Big Fabulous Southern Tour: ATL Edition

2011-07-07T08:30:00.000-05:00

This post was originally scheduled for Saturday morning. I thought I would go ahead and share it with you now.

Strike through and all. And if it hurts your eyes to read it, I'm ok with that. That irritation is a fragment of the irritation I currently feel.

On January 5, 2011, I got an email from Ly in the middle of my work day.

"Want to go see Taylor Swift in July?"

Random email, but within a few email exchanges, we'd planned a trip to Atlanta to see her and Ly's favorite band Needtobreathe in Atlanta 7 months down the road. Super excited for a girls weekend that seemed so far away, I proudly sent her a copy of the tickets we'd purchased and we squeeled in delight at how fun this was going to be.

12 days later, Ly learned she was pregnant. And I learned I was going to be traveling with a very pregnant best friend to a concert almost 3 hours away from home and uncomfortably close to her due date. I keep wanting to ask her if we would even be going to this concert if she'd found out about it 12 days later, but I'm beyond thrilled about it so I'm not gonna jinx it.

Ly even dreamed about our Taylor Swift concert experience. She says she dreamed that we were walking through Phillips Arena with her waddling and me angry that she was taking so long to get there. I think there were tears and screams involved. I'm not certain.

So now, on the last leg of my big, fabulous Southern tour, I'm headed to Atlanta with a 7 months pregnant chick. So could you just stop what you are doing and pray?

We need prayer that Little Miss will no be so inspired by Taylor Swift's message of Fearlessness and Speaking Now that she decides to make her entirely too premature appearance in the middle of Phillips Arena. People tell me I'm crazy about this and that there is no way this is going to happen, but it happened to Michelle Duggar! She went into labor in December when little Josie was due in March! Nope. Can't happen.

We need prayer that I won't see Little Miss kick through her mommy's stomach again. I saw that happen once when we were shopping. I need that to not happen again. I'm hoping Ly will wear a ruffled shirt.

We need prayer that me and my horrible driving skills can get us through the traffic hell hole called Atlanta. This should be interesting.

So. No early baby. No early baby alien moves through the mommy's tummy. No bad things happening on Atlanta highways.

Whew. Off to my last summer getaway with my bestie. Let's do this. :)

Taylor Swift has bronchitis. She moved the concert to October 1. Little Miss is scheduled to make her grand debut on September 25. Which means no concert for Ly and I. To say I'm disappointed would like saying that Kanye was a little upset when he hopped on stage and said Beyonce deserved that MTV Award more than T. Swift.

Sigh. Anyone want to buy two fantastic seats to an Atlanta concert on October 1? :-(

The Science of the Smell of Strawberry Cake

2011-07-06T13:03:00.000-05:00

When I was in college and still drove around my itty-bitty Mustang, I drove home the first weekend in April for my mom's birthday. I drove to one of her favorite bakeries and purchased a big, pink Strawberry cake. I carried it out to my car, set it in the passenger seat and backed up. When I did, the cake fell all in the floor board of the car. Seriously, there was pink cake everywhere. And the smell.....oh my gosh. It was super hot that day, and it was almost like the heat baked the smell into my car. It smelled like Edgar's Bakery had exploded inside my car. Pink frosting on the floor, pink frosting on the windows, pink frosting on the carpet.....it had literally gotten everywhere in my car.

I went back inside and purchased another cake, and I drove the 30 miles home. When my grandmother, the neat-freak, saw the mess, she instantly went to town trying to clean up my car. Within an hour, my car had no evidence of the pink volcanic irruption. Every single crumb had been vacuumed and the sides had been wiped down so that no frosting was left.

For weeks after, though, my car still smelled like Strawberry. Every single time I got in my car, it was like the cake had exploded in my car all over again even though there was no evidence left. And while my friends who got in my car never knew exactly what had happened with the strawberry cake, they knew it had been in my car because they smelled it. It was obvious something sweet and strawberry-like had been all over my car.

And that was a sweet smell.

Not a decomposing body.

I understand that injustices happen every single day. That I get away with sins all the time. Every time I speed and don't get caught or for every red-light I've run or for that bottle of shampoo I accidentally didn't pay for at Wal-mart.........and I know there are babies, sweet precious babies, overseas who are treated horribly and cruelly every single day as well.

But here's why I was upset. Our American justice system was put into place so that a jury was to put the pieces of evidence together to figure out what happened and to judge on that crime. A jury of our peers looks at the evidence, at the testimony of witnesses, at the timeline of events and puts together what happened. And then they come back with guilty or not guilty.

People on the news are right. It was a smell in the back of a car. And how really can you judge a smell? I'll tell you how I judged the smell of sweet sugar in my car.........it was there for weeks. If I put my car next to the bakery, it would be like the same exact lovely fragrance wafting around. Casey Anthony's car? Put that air sample up next to one from a body farm or next to a dead body and I bet it would be the same smell.

Listen to me. She had a dead body in her car. A DEAD BODY IN HER CAR! Around the same time that her daughter went missing. That she got a "Bella Vita" tattoo. That an entry in her journal talked about being happy with what she had done. That the Winnie The Pooh comforter her daughter slept with was wrapped around her dead, duck-taped body and placed in a laundry bag that was found inside her home.

I mean, how in the world did those 12 people all find her not guilty? I don't.....I can't understand.

Reporters keep saying the world will never know what happened to little Caylee Anthony. That's not true. I know exactly what happened to her. Her stupid, psychopath of a mother killed her and dumped her in the swamp, and our justice system let Girlfriend go free.

A jury of her peers let her go free. Take that in.

Men lived on death row for years until new DNA testing proved they were innocent. In their trials, the jury didn't NEED DNA evidence. They pieced together what they had and inferred the rest. And by God, that should have been the case here. We live in a society that is so obsessed with CSI and crime shows that if there's no DNA, then you have nothing.

Well, that's crap.

The jury had air samples. And the laundry bag and video tapes and audio tapes and a freaking internet search for "chloroform" and "neck breaking."

But because their was no DNA, then she gets to go free. This time next week, Casey Anthony could be coming to a McDonald's near you.

I don't understand how our justice system broke down so much that a trunk full of evidence couldn't put that woman away. And I can't wait to see what kind of life she is able to lead now that every one in America looks at her as the woman who dumped her child's body in the swamp.

My Country Tis Of Thee

2011-07-04T00:01:00.057-05:00

I'm a blessed 2011 girl.

Here's why in numbers:

1920: The year it officially became law for women to vote throughout the United States.
56: The number of delegates who signed the Declaration of Independence in 1776
4,457: The military men who had died in Iraq so far in the War on Terror
1936: The year when Martin Luther King foretold of a world where all people coexisted.
5: The number of years we fought the Civil War, uniting us in ways we never imagined
11: For Apollo 11, putting our country at the forefront of technology and space discovery
32,102: The number of soldiers who have been injured overseas in the current war
50,000,000 plus: The number of people who died during WW II, including the persecuted
4: The number of men in the world's highest position who died during their term in office
2000: The election year that showed us that every. single. vote counts.
235: How many years we've been able to be free here in America
0: The number of times I've been hit by a bomb while eating at the local bakery by work
0: The number of times I've felt threatened by war
0: The number of nights I've worried about being killed in my sleep
0: The times I've not been allowed to vote on Election Day
0: The times the government has stopped me from going into my place of worship
0: How many times my President has told me to bow before him as King
0: The number of times I've lost everything for a taste of freedom

Wow. I'm a lucky girl. I live in an awesome country where men and women I don't even know risk their lives for me every single day. Where families with little babies without daddies and mommies there at night give EVERYTHING so I can feel safe driving to work in the morning. Where men and women went before me and lived and died so that all men can strive to have equality.

Happy Birthday, America! If we were Facebook friends, I'd write the biggest greeting of Happy Birthday and Thank You wishes on your wall.

Confusion: A Clarification

2011-07-01T07:00:00.001-05:00

I witnessed a Facebook fight between a person I knew ten years ago and a friend of hers regarding which one of them could say that SoandSo was "their man." This fight was smushed in between visits on the My Horiscope app and requests to feed her horses on My Wilderness application. When I learned that the SoandSo in question was in jail, four things happened.

I......

1) Decided to clean up my friend list. Yes, there was some defriending action going on.
2) Realized that some people shouldn't be allowed to procreate.
3) Questioned whether it was me who was the strange one or if it was her
and then....
4) I wrote the below blog post.

Within four hours after the below was posted, I had no fewer than five friends email/text/call me going, "What in the world is going on with you?" or "Are you ok?"

I swear I didn't mean for it to come across as depressing. I think I meant it as more of a "Oh my sweet holy night." I was just trying to stress the ridiculousness of it all.

Look, I consider myself to be quirky and different, but relatively normal. I'm loud and opinionated, but I think it's within the normal range. I have a full time job, I go to school at night, I have an active social life and I own my own house where I have lived independently without the help of a husband or my parents for the past 3 years. I live a life that is full and rich and blessed, and while I may not be married, I'm relishing this time in my life where I can be free and independent and my own person.

But when I think of someone like that whose been married thrice now and has the maturity level to fight with someone on their Facebook wall.....combined with some other Facebook revelations that left my mouth literally dropped open...... I have to stop and seriously ask myself.

"Is it me?"

Because if it that is normal, then I think I'm good being the odd person out.

So, yes, I'm fine. No, you don't have a reason to be concerned about me. Unless I'm not being "Maury Povich" enough in my personal relationships and you think I need to add a little more redneck to it.

Confusion

2011-06-30T12:30:00.002-05:00

I'm me.
I'm loyal.
I'm happy.
I'm creative.
I'm animated.
I'm passionate.
I love completely.
I'm a bold person.
I wear clean clothes.
I like to try new stuff.
I give second chances.
I appreciate random mess.
I'm sneaky when I need be.
I've never been afraid to cry.
I have the world's best friends.
I'm hard working and dedicated.
I love to laugh until my body hurts.
I think I am a level-headed dreamer.
I say what's on my mind when suitable.
I do my best to look cute in the mornings.
I'm flexible and adaptable for the most part.
I'm a girly girl who likes glitter and fairy tales.
I know that romance is going to happen someday.
I enjoy life and want to savor every moment I have.
I have a bachelor's degree and a master's on the way.
I'm unique and normal weird and quirky, consecutively.
I like give and take relationships that are fair and beneficial.
I love my Lord Jesus and love the things has planned for me.
I like myself, and I'm confident in who I am and where my life is.

And then I learn something about someone....either through gossip or the Facebook or through word-of-mouth. And I question everything I've ever known about myself, life in general and quite frankly, humanity. And then I wonder why I'm shocked, and I question if it's them who is strange or if it's really me.