a thrill of hope.

Christmas.

I've always been more of an Easter gUrl...more celebration in the redemption and the life that came through Jesus' death than blowing out candles on a birthday cake. Not that his birth isn't just as important, but I've just never been as pumped about it. After all, it's his death and his resurrection that makes Him different. But, lately I've been thinking about it...thinking about the Hope it brought, the peace He came with, the story of His father's ever-lasting love He was going to tell. And yeah, His death made Him different, but...so did his freakin' birth.

I mean, an angel came to Mary, said, "Yo! You're pretty high up on God's list, so you're going to have His son...I know, I know, you're a virgin, but don't be scared. The spirit of the Lord will be with you. Just trust me, ok? Oh yeah, I know you've always wanted to name a son Aiden Francis, but go with Jesus. PEACE."

LIKE, WHAT?!

I mean, that's a pretty different way to be born...and He lived a much different life than I do. There's cause for celebration in that. Celebration in the fact that His life gives us life. His words give us life. He is life. That makes me want to have one heck of a burrday par-tay.

These lyris from "O Holy Night" ring so true today...

Long lay the world in sin and error pining.
Till He appeared and the Spirit felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

A thrill of hope, indeed. A thrill of hope in something other than ourselves and this ugly world around us. The hope of a Savior. The hope of redemption.

Merry Christmas internetS, you're getting life and freedom from sin.

Happy Burrday Jesus, you're the living example of "giving is better than receiving."

gb.

I miss this woman everyday, but especially this time of year as I realize how much of a grown-up I am...There are no more stockings with money...no more matching sweatsuits under the tree...no more underwear stuffed in a stocking that is so big a baby elephant could wear it...no more magic biscuits...no more sleeping in the same room as four other kids...

We've moved on to Wii bowling and wine and Sister Schubertt rolls...but, I can still fit into the underwear. So, it's a win.

Here's to Bonnie Cowling.

'tis the season.

I'm guessing this was Christmas 1984. Obviously, the Brosef got a CareBear and I got overfed.

The Reg still has that shirt in his closet and I'm still overfed.

'Tis the season, indeed.

crimmas list.

Very recently I received an e-mail from my mother with the subject line, "OK kids- it's Christmas," and although it was sent before Thanksgiving and it wasn't actually Christmas, she still asked for my wants and needs in this, the year of our Lord, 2010. Upon opening the e-mail I found these words, "Lists, suggestions- no ponies, please! All reasonable suggestions will be considered..." As you can imagine, this was a direct shot at me and my heart and every crimmas list I've ever compiled. I found myself asking the question, "What IS a reasonable suggestion if the ONE thing in this world I've always wanted and never been given is a pony?!" In an effort to be more reasonable than ever before, I've compiled a list of crimmas goodies that I would be ecstatic to unwrap and re-gift in future years.

Dear Family and Friends,

I've compiled the following wants in list form so that you might venture out into a retail store and purchase one or more of these items. Some items may be found on the internetS. I thank you in advance for your generosity and per the usual, I promise to not SELL or giveaway any items you purchased in my name until June, at the earliest.

1. A lock of Franklin Pierce's hair. (I realize this is a bit of a stretch, but you claim to love me, so...)

2. A trip to Disney with the whole family.

3. A hair cut.

4. A pony.

5. Anything with the word "deluxe" in the title.

6. The moon.

Thank you for kind consideration.

merry crimmas,

lc

franklin pierce day.

Franklin Pierce, 14th President of the United States

Known as "Handsome Frank."

Also, a bit of a rebel rouser.

God love Him.

It's no official holiday, but it should be...today would have been Franklin Pierce's 206th birthday.

Pierce, our country's 14th President, gets very little praise and almost no credit for anything he accomplished in office. Admittedly, he did very little to further the country along on any positive note, but, I mean...he was President and he was very, very good looking.

I could list tens of reasons as to why this man is great, but I'll spare you the details. However, seeing as how Franky P. was a bit of a drunk, it's only appropriate that we all have a few dozen cold ones in his honor today!

The author of this very web log frolicking on the front lawn of the Pierce Manse in Concord, New Hampshire.

Franklin Pierce lover meets Franky P. statue in front of New Hampshire State House.

Four of about 200 Franklin Pierce fans gathered together in his name.

Franklin Pierce's ACTUAL shaving kit!

giving of thanks.

I have to be honest: Thanksgiving has never been my favorite holiday. Always seemed like a lot of build-up for a meal. That's probably because I used to only eat the turkey, the potatoes and the bread. But, lately...the holiday has much more meaning to me. I have so much to be thankful for. I live a life of incredible fortune and the truth of the matter is that I don't celebrate that enough.

First and foremost, I'm thankful for the Grace of the Lord and that He sent his son, Jesus Christ, to save me and redeem me. He's placed a calling on my life that is matchless and promised me life through Him. It's such an easy thing to forget for some reason and it makes no sense to me-- I mean, THE LORD CHOSE ME, He has given me a hope beyond myself and I forget that? What an idiot move.

I'm thankful for Ryan Mallett and his right arm.

I'm thankful for pizza and that more often than not, people will bring it to my door and I don't even have to leave my house to eat it.

I'm thankful for Elizabeth A. Garton (she is so good at doing the dishes).

I'm thankful for the iPhone 4.0 and Talking Tom.

I'm thankful for the InternetS.

I'm thankful for DVR and really thankful for reality tv.

I'm thankful for friends who let me get away with very little.

I'm thankful for friends who encourage me.

I'm thankful for Harper Pardue.

I'm thankful for g-chat.

I'm thankful for the ability to memorize a lot of shit.

I'm thankful that I have a washing machine in my apartment.

I'm thankful for my church.

I'm thankful for my job.

I'm thankful for Facebook.

I'm thankful for watches.

I'm thankful for Chi hair products.

I'm thankful for happy hour.

I'm thankful for my family.

I'm thankful for Franklin Pierce.

I'm sure I left a lot of things off of this list, but that's alright...because we should choose to be thankful all the time, not just the last Thursday in November.

thankful: dallas.

Years ago when the parental unit packed me up and moved me to Dallas I didn't really know what the hell I was doing. I knew I already had a pretty good friend-base in place, but without a job and very little to my name, I signed a short lease and always kind of saw myself in Dallas on a "trial" basis. Over four years later I still think I'll end up somewhere else and I always seem to be focused on the "have-nots" rather than the "haves" and therein lies my problem. It's a problem when someone chooses, continually, to not celebrate how fortunate they are.

I feel like I owe Dallas an apology. I want to kiss Dallas and give it a fruit basket for Thanksgiving, because really, truly, Dallas ain't been that bad.

So, in no particular order (with the major likelihood that I will leave something or someone off) here are all the things I'm thankful for (Dallas-wise):

• The music scene. I like concerts and I've seen some good ones lately.
• Southwest Airlines and their direct flights, everyday to Little Rock.
• My friends: I'm so fortunate to have people here that love me and love me well.
• The food. It's better here than most places I go. The grocery stores are better, too.
• It's not Houston. Or Lubbock.
• My job. They pay me and a lot of days I enjoy it.
• The shopping is decent. You wouldn't know it by looking at my wardrobe though.
• No state income tax.
• Not a swing state, but still a player on the national political scene.

So, yeah, it's not so bad being here. Maybe I miss my family and 24/7 talk of the Arkansas Razorbacks, not to mention the local news here is nothing compared to Little Rock, but...I like it here. Maybe, I'll finally unpack my office supplies.

pauline (epistles).

Paul, the Apostle, has long been my favorite Biblical character (hero?). The list of reasons is extensive, but mainly because it's his story that best tells the story of grace and redemption that Jesus freely gives to those who wish to receive it. I mean, Paul was a legitimate asshole, to put it in layman's terms. Actually, he was worse than asshole. He was just tUrrible.

In spite of Paul's history of being an asshole (maybe not even in spite, maybe for that exact reason, really) the Lord transformed Paul into His servant. Which led to Paul becoming a missionary, a martyr and the author of the majority of the New Testament. Paul's life was a total 180-degree turnaround.

My favorite thing about the Pauline Epistles (besides the name obviously, I mean Pauline) is the passion with which Paul(ine) writes. This is a passionate guy hoping to convey one message-- the Gospel. He gets real passionate at times making it super hard to understand him (Romans, anyone?) but you cannot ignore the zeal he possess in every word he puts on the page.

The other thing that gets me about these letters is the personality that seems to seep through. [Go check out Galatians 6:11, it's my personal favorite.] Paul had to have been quite the dude and it shows when he writes. I especially love the personal touches to them. He writes a lot of them like he is BFF with these people, when really, he wasn't. And he's not afraid to tell people to get their shit together. Love that.

But, seriously, what I really love is the way he closes out each letter. He always throws out a personal SHOUT OUT (something, I am obviously a HUGE fan of) and usually slips in one last "to-do" list for those reading. This is incredible because, if Paul closed out his letters with a Willfully His, Confidently His, His, LYLAS/B, Cheers! or Deuces his whole message would be worthless. I mean, say I read all of First Corinthians and I'm really digging it and I'm about to expel the "immoral brother" and Paul says to me, Y'all go get 'em! Lovies! I'm probably not going to take him seriously.

So, really my point in all of this is-- get serious. You should end your conversations, be they via e-mail, actual letters or phone calls with the same amount of passion and zeal that you started the conversation with. Stay with your message. Nothing loses an audience faster than an ill-advised Cheers!

Grace and Peace be with each of you who wish for the second coming! Woe to those who don't fear the Lord! Lovies! -lc

mass chaos.

When I was in high school my friends and I down at the ole Methodist church decided we should revive the women's softball team. It had been defunct since the early '90s and since we all had a lot of experience playing slow-pitch softball we thought we might be able to bring a championship home for John Wesley.

We played two seasons and I'm sad to report that a championship trophy was not brought back to the church. And, in reality that was probably best. We weren't the most humble group. Which was just one of many lessons learned over the course of those two seasons. And since this web log exists to serve the greater good of the internetS, I want to share some of those other lessons with each and every (nine) of you.

1. Church secretaries are not as close to the Deity as one typically believes. This is probably not the case for most church secretaries, but in this case-- totally the case. Now, I know Methodist churches are usually a little more "free" and "liberal" than other denominations, but...one game the church secretary was playing short stop and I was pitching and I ended up walking somewhere around seven or eight batters in a row. Naturally, I tried to hand the pitching duties off to someone else. When she failed miserably as well, the secretary gave me back the ball and in no uncertain terms told me to, "get my shit together and ****ing pitch." Yes, she said the dreaded "F" word. To me. The 17-year-old youth group executive member. That was one of my first lessons in depravity.

1b. There is very little Jesus involved in church league softball. Like, one prayer before the game and then, all hell breaks loose. I have a strong feeling that the Lord does not like being a sponsor of most softball leagues he ends up being associated with by default.

2. Sometimes transgender-ish people play on women's church league softball teams. And sometimes they really do have uni-sex names. And mostly, they suck at softball. Which is probably why the men's team wouldn't let this person play for them.

Maybe, I really didn't learn all that much, but I did learn for sure that it really clouts your ability to share Jesus with others when instead of praying for your poor pitching skills, they cuss you out. Not very Barnabus-like, eh?

vote.

Damn it, this is America.

And in America, we're afforded the LIBERTY to vote freely in elections. So, do it.

Liberty taking on the definition: freedom from control, interference, obligation, restriction, hampering conditions, etc.; power or right of doing, thinking, speaking, etc., according to choice.

One of my favorite things about this country is that it's not perfect. It never has been. But, constantly, since the beginning of these great United States, its government has been correcting itself and its laws in order to make this place great. For everyone. Yes, it's taken a while on some fronts and more often than not it seems like government is holding us back rather than moving us forward, but still...this ain't Maldives. Or even France. This is AMERICA.

You not only have the option to vote, but you have the option to NOT vote. How cool is that?

“The vote is the most powerful instrument ever devised by man for breaking down injustice and destroying the terrible walls which imprison men because they are different from other men.” --Lyndon B. Johnson

trials and tribulations.

I'm currently doing an in-depth study over the book of James. If you aren't familiar with the Bible or this book in particular a major theme James addresses is overcoming trials and facing trials and tribulations with a joyful attitude, in that trials bring us closer to the Lord and allow us to have a deeper understanding of the character of God.

If you've never endured a trial it's easy to say, "Oh, no problem, I can do that..." And if you have ever endured one it's almost surreal to look back and see how correct James is when he tells us that enduring trials will mature us and yes, give us a deeper, fuller understanding of the Lord and His plans.

So...tell me...what am I supposed to learn from this terrible time in my life when I thought it was acceptable to wear things like this outfit in public?

not proud.

In an effort to be more transparent and real with you people of the internetS, it's time to get real today.

Every morning when I wake up I pray that I would be more like Jesus. I have recently expanded this prayer to include the words, "in all ways." I hadn't left them out previously on purpose, but I think it's important that in praying to be more like Jesus Christ, I do mean, really be like Jesus. In all ways.

As you can imagine this is a struggle for me, but in being true to his word, the Lord is working on me. Unfortunately, he seems to be taking a break on Saturday afternoons. Either that or the play of the Arkansas Razorbacks stifles the Holy Spirit in my body so much so that casual observers would believe that I'm a recently released felon or that I'm a mental patient. It's a toss-up really.

In weekends past I've threatened to set dogs on fire, burn down houses, become a baby mama to the Arkansas QB, break people's legs...and those are just the things I have said that don't have 19 different ways to use the words, "shit," "ass," or "bitches."

I'm not proud of this behavior. I'm actually embarrassed by it and I think I need help. Serious help. If I don't get it soon I really might become a felon or a mental patient.

Anyway. From now on, my morning prayer is going to be, "Lord, help me to be more like Jesus in all ways...especially during Razorback football games. Amen."

I'm not kidding.

sister wives.

It's no secret that I love terrible television. I'll watch almost any reality television program short of "Big Brother" and most weight-loss shows. I also don't love the reality cooking competitions, but on occasion I can get behind them.

I digress.

A couple of weeks ago I received a g-chat, from a dear friend and loyal g-chatter, Corrie (SHOUT OUT). In a minor spat over "Jersey Shore" with her husband, she was forced to turn off the Shore and find respite in some other form of entertainment. She chose "Sister Wives" and immediately told me it's a "must see." I take few people at their word, like I do Corrie, so I followed up. And I can say-- best decision ever. And worst.

My eyes being opened up to these people (and really, not even talking about their "lifestyle" all that much) causes my whole body to shudder. And ache. And cringe.

Basically, it's like this: "Sister Wives" is the story of Kody Brown and his fundamental Mormon** family, that belongs to the Apostolic United Brethren Church. You still with me? If you don't know much about fundamentalist Mormons you may breeze over that and not realize that they practice POLYGAMY. For those of you keeping score, polygamy is a form of marriage in which one person has more than one spouse at a time. BOOM. **I should state for the record that the mainstream Mormon church gave up this practice in 1890.

So, Mr. Brown has three wives when the series begins and the season is focused on the addition of the fourth wife, Robyn. Robyn is undoubtedly a younger, hotter wife. She also brings two children along with her to add to the Brown brood of 13. The other wives are weird versions of Michelle Duggar (of the morally right, hairfully wrong Duggar clan), Sarah Palin, Donna Reed, Carol Brady and a possessed alien.

These women are absolutely insane and two of the three said that growing up they always figured they'd marry into a plural marriage. One wife even went as far as saying that she only wanted to be a third wife. Like, that was her end goal. I'm sorry, but W. T. F.

I really don't want to get into all of the reasons that these people are living life, more or less, incorrectly and focus on how this complete and total d-bag landed, not one, but four wives. A prime example of his being a total idiot is on display during this video below...it also provides a minor glimpse into drama between the wives...drama that all centers around one concept: everyone, at some point, feels neglected by Mr. Brown or jealous of another wife. Which, hello: THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD NOT SHARE A HUSBAND. Like, get a clue. They spend the majority of episodes crying in form or another and it's really insane. You have to check this shit out for yourself.

reflections.

Two years ago I took a monumental step in my life and traveled out of the country for the first (and still only) time in my life. I ventured down south to Ecuador, a country that isn't usually for people who haven't traveled internationally before (according to one very-well traveled Canadian I met at a hostel, who said Paris and London are usually people's first adventures in foreign travel).

It was absolutely, without a doubt, the trip of a lifetime. A trip so full of memories that I created a coffee table photo book to prove just that. And. Two years later I'm still blogging about it.

The trip started off with a bang spending six hours alone in the Panama City, Panama airport, where people spoke almost no English. After finally arriving in Quito, my bestest, Britt (SHOUT OUT), informed me that I was not allowed to flush toilet paper down the toilet. Then, we made our way to an active volcano where some people got drunk and rode their bikes down it, but we just rode. And then, then, the hike from hell happened. I still can't talk about this day without cringing.

I think the once great band, Fall Out Boy, said it best when they said, "thnks fr th mmrs." So, Ecuado, thnks fr th mmrs.

older.

Yesterday a minor anniversary in my life was celebrated. The day marked the 27th year I had been free from the confines of my mother's womb and began the (hopefully) long journey to my impending death.

With each year that passes I become older (how's that for profound?) and somewhat more mature than the year before. And, with each year that passes I become more thankful for things that I probably never thought I'd be thankful for. And rather than focus on my impending death and the fact that I'm now closer to 30 than 20, I'm choosing to celebrate. Aren't we supposed to get older? What's the alternative to getting older? I can't say for certain, but then again, I can: it's death. Why do people get so upset about getting older? I've come to really enjoy the perks of being older. Especially the part that allows me to do whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want to do it. What's not to love about that?

To me, complaining about becoming older, is almost complaining about being alive. Which means, you're essentially complaining about breathing. Which is actually complaining that your brain is sending a signal to your lungs.

So, let's cut the BS. Let's celebrate the fact that, for the majority of us, we're all functional beings with the ability to grow older and wiser and ultimately, enjoy more of life and the things the Lord has given us in this life.

But, seriously.

the hard stuff.

Years ago I learned that living life in concordance with Jesus Christ does not necessarily mean you are going to live an easy life. He never promises that. At times I forget that because, in my head I'm like, I've got the CREATOR of the whole universe on my team, I mean, COME ON. And time and time again I'm reminded that no, he's never promised me an easy life.

I'm reminded of this mostly through the play of the Arkansas Razorbacks.

Dear Razorbacks, thank you for keeping me humble and realistic. Thank you for reminding me of my Creator. Thank you for under-promising and at times, over-delivering. You have been a part of my life longer than I've actually been alive and I'm not going to forsake you now, but on behalf of a whole state, I'm begging you: choose one. Please, just suck really bad or be really awesome. But, quit being both. I love you forever.

the past.

I see photos like this of my past and I'm reminded of Paul. "Paul?" you ask. Yes, Paul. Yes, that Paul. The apostle.

I'm sure when you, people of the internetS, look at this photo your thoughts are far, far from Paul and really, God in general. You may even think, "Would God really make a person look like that?"

This photo reminds me of Paul, because that man had a dirty, undesirable past, but was still responsible for writing the majority of the new testament and suffered immensely for the sake of the Gospel. Paul's past propelled him, it didn't prevent him. Paul's past is the ultimate example of God's grace and love for us. The Lord didn't look at Paul as anything but righteous.

I may see myself as a little gUrl, who often acts like an idiot and doesn't say what she means and doesn't mean what she says, with a mullet, but the Lord doesn't see me like that. He never has and He never will.

He has saved me and redeemed me.

The past is the past and mullets are mullets.

bachelor pad: finale.

I'd like to apologize for the length of this post. I know most people need to take an adderall to read this much, but...sometimes you gotta buckle down and do work.

Ohhhhh myyyyyyy gosssssssh, ballroom dancing. Like, OMG.

I'm just trying to figure out why everyone is dressed like they are going to high school basketball practice. Seriously. Every one of those guys is dressed like a 16-year-old going to a shoot-around. Gross. Shirts come with sleeves for a reason.

The music during the limo rides to the dance studios made it seem like these people were either about to go into major surgery or a funeral. No, turns out they are just meeting choreographers! Which, of course, BSC Elizabeth warns Kovacs that if he pays attention to their hot teacher she'll get distracted and crazy. Newsflash: gUrl, you're on that damn train. Crazy train.

So, I was watching these people dance and I was fairly certain that they all have feet, but when they start dancing it's like they don't. I legitimately think a blind kangaroo could do better. But, who am I to judge? Oh, I am.

The whole time I was watching Natalie and Dave I kept thinking, I pray that her father is not watching this. Please, don't let her father be watching this. I mean, way to make people proud, "We're used to these positions, so I think this is going to work out well."

Somebody really needs to tell Elizabeth that she is not bartering peace between Palestine and Israel. This is a dancing competition. A dancing competition on a reality television program.

The judges were a bunch of idiots. They must have been told to go easy on them or something, because how in the world can you get 8 out of 10 if you don't even finish the dance? And how did Kippy-Skippy manage to get the only masculine costume?

I love that after it was over Dave was sitting around, still, in his little fairy costume and he and Natalie were dissecting the dance like it was game film from the Super Bowl. And, really, did Kip-Ten think, "Oh, we're winners. Let's don our swimmies and get in the bathtub!" Doubtful. Shame on you producers.

So, let's be honest they should've kept Kovacs and BSC around. That psychopath Eliza would not have gotten one vote and Kip-Ten would be a little wealthier this morning.

And. The second Tenley figured out she was going to have to vote off a couple: tears. Huge, giant tears. How does anybody have that many tears in their body? I looked it up, the typical adult female is made up of 60% water. Tenley must be closer to 95%.

The second Kovacs and BSC are voted off, you know Kovacs is celebrating a little bit. You know in his head, he was thinking, "Ok, we'll try this for a week and I'm home free!" He later confirmed that. Duh.

Now on to this whole studio audience thing.

Immediately Kovacs and BSC tell the world that it's over. Watching her talk was scary. Probably more scary for him than anything. I have an eery feeling that he could end up dead soon...she is that crazy.

It was pretty lame to listen to these people talk. These adults. ADULTS. I'm an adult and I know lots of other adults. I don't know anyone who acts like these people. Praise God I don't. Can you imagine?

I can't even discuss Wes and Gia because it's the most sad thing I've seen on television since Sunday when Sarah McLachlan asked me to adopt that hungry puppy on the street.

Was Peyton going to a prom that no one else knew about?

Krisily was there and I'm still not really recognizing her as an actual person, because she has yet to legally change her name to something real.

When did Gia become Diane Sawyer? What was with all the investigative questions? What is it that? I think Jesus would tell Gia to take the plank out of her own eye, or he'd tell Gia to stop being a kettle calling the pot black. You're black, too. Remember that whole debacle with telling Craig one thing and then doing another? HOW DOES SHE KEEP FORGETTING THAT?!

I think Tenley really meant her apology to Michelle and all that moron said back to her was, "What goes around comes around." Again. Isn't she an adult? How do these people function in society?

I think everybody was pretty honest about what they would do with their chunk of change if they were to win. But, I don't think Natalie realizes how much it costs to start a charity, even a small one. And then Gwen calls out Dave and that was pretty awesome, but still...Gwen, money or not you should not be on this show at 38 years of age. You just shouldn't.

I think the votes just came down to the fact that Dave and Natalie had more "bro cards." Kippy Skippy and Tenley are just too squeaky clean. People can't relate to them. It's like they aren't real. I really believe that Tenley poops brown sugar.

I love that Chris explains with such great detail that the majority of 15 is 8. Again, these people are adults. And. This isn't Congress, what's with all the drama? They aren't voting to impeach the president here, people.

I really couldn't believe that so many of those idiot gUrls voted for Dave. I mean, he played them like a game of Mouse Trap.

And Chris chimes in, "Four votes apiece. Both couples are half-way to the mark of the eight votes needed to win." We've had some pretty impressive math lessons come out of this epi.

And then, Wes votes and everyone goes wild like we're watching a children's sports movie and Air Bud just caught the winning touchdown pass from his best friend and quarterback.

Oh, but! A twist is coming. Surely, if these two have any bit of intelligence in their brains at all they would've seen this coming-- duh-- you're going to have to do something retarded like this and pick, "keep" or "share." And surely, if they have any bit of intelligence in their brains at all they would have discussed beforehand that they might as well bite the bullet and share the 125Gs. Right? Surely. And obviously, they did. Because there's no way either one of these completely selfish people would have chosen to share the money had they not discussed this decision prior to actually making the decision. No shocker here. They are "sharing" the money.

I think if they were really going to "share" the money and the Bachelor Pad producers really wanted to "test their relationship" they would put the money in a joint account and give them no limitations on how fast you could spend it and then see who "shares" it.

And how great was it that Dave kissed Natalie on the cheek and then basically made out with Chris Harrison? I think we have a little more to learn about Dave.

And. Then everybody celebrated like people actually care about their lives and that this is real, which it isn't.

lil' lee-lee.

I made a decision quite some time ago to only have friends that were smarter, prettier, dressed better, nicer, were more patient than me, etc, etc; That was a tough decision to make, because I was totally that kid all through elementary school that was incessant about being at the front of the line every. single. time. The point being: I'm quite the egomaniac. Nonetheless, I'm quite confident the reason I lead such a full life is because of the people I've surrounded myself with.

My friend Lee-Lee is no exception to this rule. She's infinitely nicer, more patient, incredibly considerate, thoughtful...I mean, the list goes on and on. She can tease hair like no one I have ever met, which is really saying something when you're a graduate of the University of Arkansas. She can sing like a delicate song bird. And she can discuss college football with the best of them. Maybe her dance moves aren't the best and she doesn't like to drink all that much, but still. She's good people. Real good.

I have to give a SHOUT OUT to this gUrl, because tomorrow after 36 (37?) weeks of carrying around twin boyZ in her tiny lil' body, she'll finally give birth! Her feet are, and have been, the size of a small gorilla and she's been way preggo through the dog days of summer, but I've yet to hear her complain. I'm so very proud of her and cannot wait to meet these little guys.

Lee-Lee and Rhettro, I know you're going to be a great parental unit to TommyBoy and HuddyHud. I cannot wait to come around and teach them all about "Jersey Shore" and rap music. And Lee-Lee, from here on out, I'm begging you to spare me the details on anything concerning placenta sack(s) and/or your cervix, or really anybody's cervix.

Go get 'em, team Lashlee!

oh, noah.

The amount of rain that is currently falling out of the sky is making me think this morning. Of what you ask? Well, of Noah. Obviously.

Oh, how cliche of me. It's raining like mad and I'm thinking of Noah.

Other than elementary Sunday school and like, one lesson in college that I taught to some 9th graders I've spent very little time studying Noah. But, I think of him often.

I think of this man, Noah, who's story literally blows me out of the water. (Did you like that?) Like, for real. Here's this dude living his life, doing his thang, walking with the Lord and so and so forth.

Then, one day, when he's like at the market or something the Lord, God himself, starts talking to Noah. And not just talking like He talks to me, but really talking..."I am going to put an end to all people, for the earth is filled with violence because of them. I am surely going to destroy both them and the earth. So make yourself an ark of cypress wood; make rooms in it and coat it with pitch inside and out. This is how you are to build it: The ark is to be 450 feet long, 75 feet wide and 45 feet high. Make a roof for it and finish the ark to within 18 inches of the top. Put a door in the side of the ark and make lower, middle and upper decks. I am going to bring floodwaters on the earth to destroy all life under the heavens, every creature that has the breath of life in it. Everything on earth will perish. But I will establish my covenant with you, and you will enter the ark—you and your sons and your wife and your sons' wives with you. You are to bring into the ark two of all living creatures, male and female, to keep them alive with you. Two of every kind of bird, of every kind of animal and of every kind of creature that moves along the ground will come to you to be kept alive. You are to take every kind of food that is to be eaten and store it away as food for you and for them." And you know what Noah did? Everything that the Lord told him to do. All of it. And you know what the Lord did? He flooded the damn Earth just like he said he would.

Can you imagine? I mean, can you really fathom being the one dude on Earth the Lord has favored? The one fellow that the Lord trusts? Basically, Noah is the one guy the Lord is not completely pissed at. That's a lot to shoulder, wouldn't you say?

When you think of it that way and not in the way that Noah was just this zookeeper on a boat, you get it. You really get it.

The Lord has not asked me to build a boat and father the human race. He has not asked me to be responsible for the Earth and all the animals on it. But, He has asked me trust Him. To follow and study His word, to make His name known, to love others as He loves me and you know what? Most days it'd be easier for me to go out and build a damn boat than to do all of those things. But, in spite of that, He loves me. He pursues me relentlessly. Just like He pursues everyone.

All of our boats are different. The Lord asks different things of each of us. But, he expects the same from all of us: to go, to be obedient, to trust. To, metaphorically speaking, build boats.

Today, I'm thankful for Noah and his obedience.

Also, I'm thankful that I wasn't on that boat and responsible for cleaning up all the animal shit. Can you imagine the amount of kitty litter you have to use to soak up elephant poop?

Thanks, Noah.

the bachelor pad: loyalty.

The game plan is going to be flipped, turned upside down now. OMIGAH.

I love that these idiots keep saying, on repeat, "it's all changing today." Well, it changes every week, moron heads.

I love that the boyZ paced up and down that row of gUrls acting as if we didn't know what was going to happen. Nikki, do you really feel betrayed? I think you should look up the definition of betrayal. Kippy-Skippy ain't Benedict Arnold, he's a contestant on "Bachelor Pad." Right before Dave picks Natalie he looks at all the little ducks in the row and says, "You guys are awesome, classy..." Ok, forget looking up betrayal and look up classy.

I love that Peyton got stuck with Jesse B. I have so many comments that my head feels like it's going to explode.

On peeling a banana:

"That's how monkeys do it."

"So, that's the right way?"

"YES! They are professionals."

Blank stare.

So, a couple of epis ago I was quite certain that Elizabeth was straight up stalker status when it came to her "relationship" with Kovacs, but...she doesn't know his middle name or where he went to college...she probably doesn't know what kind of car he drives! Basically, she's the worst stalker ever. Come. on. gUrl.

And this water balloon toss? Please. Balloons break. There's no art to it. You can wipe it on your shirt dozens and dozens of times and it won't make a damn bit of difference. GET. SERIOUS.

Why is Melissa on this show?!

I think Jesse B. might still have a little thing for Peyton, but unfortunately for him...her beer goggles have long been un-fogged and cleared up.

For like, five minutes, I really thought Tenley was actually going to flip and turn this game upside down. She went from Disney Princess to ice princess with her plan to vote off Eliza and Kovacs, but then...everybody just forgot about it. Sorry, Pey-Pey.

Best line of the night, Dave and Natalie get the date card and everybody is guessing what the date is going to be. Tenley screams, "Oh my gosh! What if you're going on a rocket!" Nobody flinched or even looked at her, leading me to believe she was serious and that other people may have thought that, too. Whatthewhat, gUrl.

This whole making out on the car thing before they go on their date was just weird. And gross. Like. Super gross. Again, let's look up the word classy.

Who's camera was that with all the Natalie photos on it? I'm willing to bet an extremely large sum of money, they somewhere out there on the InternetS Natalie is hosting a social networking page and that page has a whole album of solo shots of her with a yellow Lamborghini. Like, I guarantee it.

So, this whole Kovacs and Eliza in the fantasy suite thing...just, I mean, remember when she wouldn't let Jake kiss her?

Tenley comes downstairs and says, "the lights are on AND it smells good." I'm sorry, but...you could say that about my office some days.

An open letter to Eliza: Dear Eliza, please for the sake of every gUrl everywhere, get your shit together. Like, please. It's starting to just become really sad and honestly, a bit scary. I get it. I mean, admittedly, all gUrls can be crazy...but, you're taking this to a whole new level of WTF. Please. Please. Please. Just try harder, ok? Thanks.

They overuse the word relationship on this show.

OMG. This voting BS is starting to just get annoying. Everyone is all, "loyalty or strategic? LOYALTY OR STRATEGIC?" You know what, why don't you just try to get through this by becoming the least annoying to me. That sounds like the better play.

So, in the end everyone went with loyalty, which is just funny because I'm fairly certain that these people are least likely to be voted "loyal" in real life. But, it's whatever because they finally voted and I don't have to pay attention to this for a whole week. Praise be to God.

on confidence.

I've never been one to lack confidence.

In anything.

I've stated at least 2,356 times on this blog that I was raised to think I could do and be whatever I wanted. My parents did not raise me like this on accident. But I also do not think they thought I would fully embrace this attitude and become this belligerently confident gUrl who decided to move to a huge city one day without a job or any money just because most of my friends were married. They have admitted more than once that my independent attitude very much cramps their style. It always has.

So, yeah, yeah I've always been ridiculously confident in my abilities, which is baffling to me because this is what I looked like in third grade. Well, really, this is what I looked like the majority of my childhood:

You'll notice that my hair is in the shape of a mushroom and my teeth slightly resemble the Rocky Mountains. How could I, a person that looks like this, think anything positive about myself or even the world in general? I don't know. Clearly, I knew from a young age that personality makes up for looks and dressing ugly is perfectly acceptable as long as you say you're trying to be funny. It does, however, become unacceptable when on more than one occasion you have seen a homeless person dressed in the same outfit.

I do realize that I'm very fortunate to have grown-up completely and whole-heartedly naive to the fact that I very much resembled a boy growing up in the Appalachian Mountains with no access to a mirror or dental care as a youngster.

bachelor pad: most likely to be dumbest.

You know what's interesting? There are people out there who get paid actual dollars to write re-caps of television shows. Some watch good shows, some watch bad shows. I watch bad shows and then VOLUNTARILY write these re-caps. You know that means? It means, if I was actually on Bachelor Pad, I would have been voted "dumbest" last night.

Alright, let's move on.

Was Wes really floating around in that hot tub in his undies like he just got back from Iraq? Dude, suck it up. You knew her a week. You weren't in love. She didn't die. Get your shit together and invest in a bathing suit.

I think they are misusing the word "competition" during this show. I mean...writing down someone's name on a piece of paper because you think their boobs are fake is NOT a competition. Throwing a ball at that person while they are running away from you and you are screaming, "fake boobs!" at them...now, that's a competition!

I have to be honest-- it's a toss-up on whether or not this would have made me upset. If I was in the environment they were in and one of these people was calling me dumb or shallow, you know what? Water off a duck's back, gUrl! But, sitting around with my croanies? Yeah, I'd be a little sad that everyone thinks my boob job is whack. Or that I'll never be a bride. But, come on, gUrl, you romped around Vegas NAKED in a pool last week in front of two other gUrls, who most definitely talked about it. That does NOT scream marriage material. I mean, not in my world anyway.

I think the producers messed with the voting a little bit. Every single person but Tenley voted Natalie as "dumb." Don't we think they would have been done when filling out the actual surveys, too? YES. Oh, reality tv...you get me. Every. single. time.

OUT OF NOWHERE: KOVACS HAS A SOUL. SOMEONE ON THIS SHOW HAS A SOUL.

Everyone is crying. I clearly don't have a heart, because I laughed at them while they were crying.

I heard Disney is coming out with a new princess-esque movie and the princess is based off of Tenley and she shits marshmallows. The prince is based off of Kiptyn and he throws up brown sugar. It's going to be precious.

Man, Peyton got duped, eh? But, Pey-Pey, gUrl...he has a tattoo covering the whole left side of his body. He's small town. He still wears Abercrombie. This was NOT going to work. I'm from a small town and I mix vodka with a LOT of things, but never. NEVER, ever have I or will I ever mix it with champagne. The guy said he had never had a martini before, which in some circles is a good thing, but in this one it means he's been doing nothing but drinking Natty Light out in a field four miles south of town.

Krisily, have you ever heard yourself talk? That's why you're an "outsider." Also, your name is KRISILY. That's NOT a real name. It's just not. You're 30.

I really like that Wes compares this show to his job. What a job! If you make it to the end, it's six weeks of partying and tanning. And if you don't, well, it's just a shorter time period of partying and tanning. As long as you wear sunscreen and take care of your liver that sounds like a pretty fun job.

The voting was way more dramatic than it should have been. People keep forgetting that where, this is their life, it's not necessarily REAL LIFE or relevant.

Best part of the night: Without a doubt when Krisily started calling people out for voting for her and Wes yelled, "I didn't vote for ya." and Jesse B. followed suit with, "I didn't either." I laughed so hard I cried. Then, I cried some more because it was two hours later and I had gained nothing from watching this show.

"I feel bad for Krisily, she really embarrassed herself tonight." --Dave

Wait. What? She just now embarrassed herself? You clearly haven't seen the footage from last week where she was scribbling your name down on the cover of her notebook and drawing hearts around it.

"People in the house. They came to party. They want to drink and hoot and holler." --Wes Yes, Wes, yes...when people want to hoot, they almost always want to holler as well. It's a given.

bachelor pad: STDs the gift that keeps on giving.

I really like that they are starting each week with the ending-drama from the week prior, but would they really sit around and talk like that? I think the producers make them! Tricky-tricky!

Who made Gia President Pro Tempore of the Senate? She's making rules, cutting deals and talking with a slight lisp. She's cracked out. She's blaming poor little Nikki for ruining the game, but again...Gia went rogue.

Oh, good...Pony Boy is back and the "outsiders" are, too!

So, let's talk about this kissing competition. Gag. In all honestly, I don't know that I've ever seen anything so repulsive on network television before. There is p-o-r-n music playing in the background of this kissing competition. I can't even write the actual word because who knows what kind of freaky stuff will end up on google if I do.

I really think Tenley might have something wrong with her brain. Did she start crying a little when the other gUrls told her they thought number 3 was Kippy-Skippy? She did!

Good for Ashley and Gia for skipping out...but, that Ashley chick has now skipped out on two competitions. How does that work? Where'd Peyton come from? She must have learned something working for Delta Delta Delta. She didn't see it coming. America didn't see it coming.

I'd like to discuss Krisily now. First off, that isn't a real name. Second, her hair is OUT OF CONTROL. Third, is she serious? Fourth, but, really, is she being serious? Fifth, she legitimately decided she's in love after kissing a guy blindfolded during a competition. That's some sixth grade bullshit, right there.

Now, I'd like to discuss Natalie. Actually, I don't want to. I'm just going to pray for her.

Kippy's rejection of Tenley was one of the most interesting things I've ever seen. For the first time, like, ever she was right-on when discussing what happened, "I feel like I got rejected." Yes, you did.

This whole Peyton and Jesse B. thing is just. Ewwww. It's like, she's the preacher's kid in high school and starts dating the town loser, who definitely either drives a Firebird or a big ass truck. He's like every single guy I went to high school with-- but, worse. Way worse. What does, "we got rough last night," even mean? And I swear after the date was over Jesse B. said, "well, we're together now." Oh, are you? That's TWO, count 'em, TWO "relationships" Jesse B. has had in the house now. Come on!

It's hard to even believe anything that comes out of Gia's mouth. I'm fairly certain she's never heard any music before if that song Wes has played over and over again on television makes him comparable to Shakespeare. How did this happen? I've been on retreats before. I've worked at a summer camp-- granted, there was no alcohol at either place, but I'm just not sure how these "relationships" come about. What's the saddest thing about Gia and Wes is that, at first, Wes was just falling all over her and she was kind of playing it cool and now she's like the ninth grader dating the senior quarterback. The only problem? This guy isn't even on the football team! He's more like the quarterback that graduated years prior and is hanging around games to pick up gUrls. He's totally the 26-year-old that comes to prom.

Best line of the night: "Personally, getting to know the weatherman, I don't think he's funny, I don't think he's cute. I really don't like the guy." -Elizabeth

FINALLY. Who does really like that guy? High-on-Xanax-Gia?

Wes was looking pretty desperate walking around threatening everyone like this is real life or something. I mean, Gia still has a boyfriend at home, right? Am I right? However, she did say in the after-the-boot-limo-ride, "If I would have stayed another day, I would have told him how I feel." Oh, really? Like, he doesn't know how you feel?

Second best line of the night: "If I win $250,000 I'll be on a plane to New York." -Wes

But, if he doesn't win it, he won't be? I mean, plane tickets can be pricey, but that pricey? I don't know...

Other questions: Is it just me or is Elizabeth crossing over the line of "bat-shit-crazy" to "for-real-y'all-she's-crazy?" What do we think Natalie does for a living? Do we think Natalie's parents are completely and utterly ashamed of her? What does Melissa do for this show? What is her purpose?

I will be reading the dictionary from cover-to-cover until next week to gain back all of the brain cells lost from this week's epi. Thanks.

bucket list.

I'm not really a big list maker, unless it's an itinerary. Good Lord, I love a good itinerary. I've never been one to make lists or even write things down on a calendar. I don't make lists because often, I can remember things off the top of my head. Sometimes I make lists because it makes me feel like a normal, functioning member of society, but then I forget about the list and go on about my day. I made a list to go to the grocery store the other day and never got it out of my pocket. I rarely make "to-do" lists because it would be the length of Tennessee and it would overwhelm me.

One list I've really avoided, on purpose, is a "bucket list." For different reasons than a "to-do" list or a grocery store list. Bucket lists scare the shit out of me. This fact was just brought to my attention a few days ago when I mentioned to a dear friend that I would be visiting Concord, New Hampshire, home of America's favorite President, Franklin Pierce. The friend stated that I would probably have very few things in life left to look forward to after standing where Pierce stood and looking at the chair Pierce ate breakfast in. I was really taken aback by this statement, because, damn it, it might be true!

I'm 26 and I've done and experienced a lot of cool stuff. I've been a lot of places, seen a lot of things, loved a lot of people-- but, is this really it? Is this really my stopping point? Am I really out of things to see after I kiss the steps of the only home Franklin Pierce ever owned? Surely not, right? But, then I kept thinking. And thinking. And thinking. What is left, I asked myself.

I think there's a lot left. And to avoid any emotional breakdowns about my life being over or seeing all there is to see, I'm doing it. I'm making a bucket list. This list will be different than my new year's resolutions, because I hate new year's resolutions and they'll be different from the things I'm thinking about being passionate about... mainly because I'm still passionate about very few things.

Bucket List: Things I Hope To Do Before Death

Version 1

Part 1: Things I Cannot Control

1. Marry a man.

2. Have a child: make him/her an entertainer, solely for my benefit.

Part 2: Things I Might Be Able to Control

1. Pay for someone else's college education.

2. Get a book deal. Go on a book tour.

Part 3: Things I Will Make Happen, Lord Willing

1. Take The Reg to England for his 60th burrday.

2. Take my mother to D.C.

3. Corrupt my future nephews and nieces. And tell them about Jesus.

4. Walk where Jesus walked.

5. Avoid rehab facilities.

6. Throw something off a bridge out of anger.

7. Do something awesome every day.

8. Go to Yorktown, Virginia and stand where my great-great-great-great (great?) grandfather stood with George Washington when General Cornwallis and

those stupid ass red coats surrendered the Revolutionary War to him.

Then, turn to the east flip the bird to King George.

9. Submit an application (resume?) to SNL to be a writer. Frame the rejection notice.

10. Get a pony at one of my burrday parties before I turn 30.

11. Drive a school bus.

12. Audition for Jeopardy.

13. Watch the Razorbacks win a football national championship. Cry tears of joy. Die right there and ascend into Heaven and celebrate with Jesus and the saints.

the bachelor pad: damage control.

I'm not the smartest person on the face of the planet, but it's something I'm constantly working towards...unfortunately, because I've watched this show two weeks in a row now, I'll never get there.

From here on out, Elizabeth will be known as CAB (Crazy Ass Bitch). How did she manage to get Kovacs to agree to be in a relationship with her? And why in the world does she continue to tell him that she loves him?

White Trash Jesse and Bear-Lover Natalie remind me a lot of a high school couple.

A pie-eating contest? Gag. They should've made Melissa eat a pie. Or 12. That gUrl is SKINNY. And why do the gUrls have to be partially naked to do this challenge?

These people are adults, right? Like. Most of them pay taxes and have jobs? So, why in the hot hell are they walking around calling people "outsiders" and "popular?" I just keep waiting for Pony Boy to pop up. That'd actually turn this piece of shit around.

The Weatherman is smart. It's like he's taking all the senior gUrls to the dance that people love, but they aren't exactly homecoming queen material. Good call, WxMan. The painting they did on that group date was disgusting and not cool at all. I can't even think of anything clever to say because it was so stupid.

Gia states early on that she has the power to change the game and boy, did she. Everybody is blaming Nikki for changing the vote, but what if that idiot Gia would've just done what she said she would do?

Let's go back to Jesse B. How awesome is he? He's all about blonde hair bear-lover and the second he even has a conversation with Gia he's all, "yeah, Natalie's cool, but I can really see Gia and me together." WHAT THE WHAT?

Maybe I'm an idiot, but what was going on in that shower?

What's going on with Gia and Wes? Is she for real? I thought she had a boyfriend? And when he says, "I love you" does it mean, let's get married or I could eat pizza three times a day, six days a week love?

How many high school-centered romantic comedies do you think Jessie S. watched before coming on the show? I mean, her whole strategy is based off a Freddie Prinze, Jr. movie, is it not?

Best part of the show? When Tenley just burst into tears after she back-handedly called CAB a big ole slut. BOOM. ROASTED. Like, she called the other gUrl a whore, a slut and she gets to cry? What is happening in that poor gUrl's head? Anything?

Worst part of the show? Chris Harrison's outfit at the rose ceremony. Like, invest in a mirror. Seriously.

My head hurts. Bad.

bachelor pad: crazy town, population 19.

I'm a fairly rational person. I make pretty decent decisions 86% of the time. However, every bit of rationale and logic go out the window when the television remote is in my hands. Earlier this summer my friends even started this game called, "What will LC NOT watch?" Needless to say, no one could really think of anything because I find humor and stupidity in just about everything. Or a good story.

I digress.

Last night was no different. I tuned in to the disaster of a train wreck shit festival that is Bachelor Pad. To say I feel like less of a human for watching this would be true. To say I lost brain capacity cannot be proved, but I have my guesses that I may have.

Last night the following questions kept running through my head: Who are these people? What do they do for a living? Didn't Craig M. say he had to lie to his employers just a few months ago to go on the Bachelorette? How does that work? Why is her hair that color? Why does she keep shrieking like she saw a shark in the water? Does that gUrl have friends? If so, why'd they let her wear that? Do those tattoos even mean anything? She loves him? Like, LOVE? But, he says they aren't even dating and she keeps dropping that bomb on him? Who is this gUrl?

Obviously, I'm intrigued by these people. And clearly, I'm super annoyed. Which is why I've decided that since my favorite piece of shit television show, The Hills, is off the air, for what is hopefully the rest of my life, I will blog about this train wreck. Since the format and premise of the show is much, much different than The Hills (thank God) the posts will be, too. Basically, this show is two hours long and I can't re-cap every scene. You've been alerted.

The basics:

Chris Harrison showed us his casual side last night with a bright pink polo and some jeans. And then, in true Chris form he wore the ugliest tie he could possibly find. It's like his wardrobe team scoured the outfits of old soap opera stars from the 80s or something. TRY HARDER.

Melissa what's her ass who got dumped by Jason what's his ass is back as a co-host, because apparently Chris can't handle the drama. But, it takes his chances of getting an STD down, too, so I bet he's fine with sharing duties.

The contestants are all idiots. And who's doing the weather in Houston if this guy is spending all of his time playing the same four chords over and over and over again in a pool to a bunch of drunk gUrls?

What'd Elizabeth Don't Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Don't, Do, Please, DO from Jake's season do to her weave? And. I mean, she. is. CRA-ZAY. Like, certifiable. Not to mention, a bit manipulative.

And Tenley? gUrl, calm the hell down. Please.

I was happy to see that Peyton finally made it off that aircraft carrier and that Gwen is still chugging along somewhere over the rainbow. Also, real nice to know Wes is still a struggling musician. Hey, dreams never die, do they?

What will happen next week? Will it be the most dramatic game of Scrabble ever? What awesome washed-up musical act will perform? I can't wait to find out!

I need a Xanax just thinking about it.

summer shout outs.

I try really hard to not make this blog about my life or what I'm doing or what my kids are eating or what recipes I've been using lately. Mostly, I try to entertain my mother, brother and the other 9 people who read this. But, sometimes, in order to give some SHOUTS OUTS I have to make it about my life because I live a rather fortunate life for a single, 26-year-old with an inability to do chemistry.

So...SHOUTS OUTS...

SHOUT OUT to Southwest Arkansas and most notably, my uncle's "farm." Not only did I finally get to put my fishing shirt to use with my favorite lil' cuzzy, but I got to shoot guns and see people camp out in an RV in a front yard.

SHOUT OUT to the Garton sisters. Moving in with them has not only enhanced my music collection, but also my ability to watch shitty reality television for more than multiple hours at a time.

SHOUT OUT to the Chach-skis. Getting to spend a weekend with these assholes really reminded me why I don't spend more weekends with them. And why I cherish their friendships as much as I do.

SHOUT OUT to Morg-hanne Stallings. There is no other person in the world I'd rather sing a karaoke duet with. And I really mean that.

SHOUT OUT to Jeannie Baby Blair's dance moves. gUrl can hold her own.

SHOUT OUT to Lil' Ri-Ri Risa for getting married and extending some mad grace to me and allowing me to stand next to her on wedding day. More grace was extended at her reception where I chased her around the dance floor, danced with a chair and hit on her 14-year-old cousin way more than once.

SHOUT OUT to Seattle. My boss "made" me go there for four days and let's just say I could think of way worse places to spend four days. Work or otherwise.