first works.

If you look to the right of this post you'll see a photo of me (it's a bit dated, so don't look too hard) and under it a blurb describing the path I took to get to this blog. I left out a small part of the story: I was also very much an aspiring poet and songwriter in my youth. Every single day of 11th grade I would write a few poems and then a friend would read them out loud at lunch. The Reg trashed about 300 of those poems sometime into my senior year in high school, but while being at home this past weekend my grandmother presented me with my 7th grade poetry project she found while cleaning.

Behold the birth of genius...

Miracles

Miracles are love,

miracles are peace,

miracles are freedom,

miracles are life-savers,

miracles are whatever is amazing.

I find this to be especially interesting because I'm not sure why in the world I would write a poem about miracles unless prompted. I'm pretty sure in 7th grade I had never witnessed, nor been a part of a miracle before (unless you count the Razorbacks 1994 NCAA Final Four victory).

Untitled

My home is a dome over me,

it is very quiet.

I rest,

in my domed home.

In the middle of a small sea,

me.

I am very quiet,

sleeping.

The dome cracks,

the sea waves (I think, I can't read my cursive),

I wake,

cheaping (again, I can't read my cursive).

First off, my home is not a dome. It wasn't then and it isn't now. I live nowhere near a sea and in 7th grade the only water I had ever seen was Lake Ouachita. And why was I sleeping in the middle of a small sea?

not thankful.

It's that time of year again. The time where everyone gets all mushy and sappy and in one day alone you receive 12 different e-cards featuring the same dancing turkey singing, "I'm thankful for you," in nine different languages. I'm kind of over that, well under it, because I haven't been on it yet.

This year, while I have a host (meaning, many) of things to be thankful for I have numerous things that I am not thankful for as well.

• I am not, repeat, NOT thankful that my favorite easy listening station, 103.7, in Dallas has decided to already start playing Christmas music 24/7. Gag. How am I supposed to get my fill of Sting and Genesis now?
• I am not thankful for daylight savings time. I'm scared to do a lot of things alone at night, including trips to Target and the local grocer's. So, now that it's dark at 2pm when do I go?
• I am not thankful for Oprah. I'm just not. Sue me.
• I am not thankful for AT&T U-Verse. I am confident that it only functions at 100%, 9% of the time.
• I am not thankful for the crazy guy that hangs out by my office every day of the week. I'm not thankful for him because he scares me and makes weird faces at me. I'm not thankful for him because the other day he stood directly in front of my car as I entered the parking lot and didn't even budge. I'm not thankful for him, but I chose not to hit him with my car because ultimately, I'd end up paying for his medical bills.
• I'm not very thankful for my iPhone. Like AT&T U-Verse the actual PHONE part of this phone is never functioning at full force. Never.

I realize by writing and publishing this post here on my web log that I look like a total cynic and completely ungrateful for the things I have in my life. Well, stop and think about it. Don't you think if I'm complaining that my super expensive, really nice cell phone isn't working up to my expectations, then really I have very few complaints and am actually completely and totally grateful for the over abundance of good that is my life? Yes, that's what I thought.

where has lc gone?

Admittedly, I'm one of those people that read blogs and then get frustrated and bored when people don't maintain their blog, especially the ones I like to read. Now, hear this, I'm not saying people out there in the internetS are enjoying reading this web log or that they get frustrated when I don't update it, I'm just saying I've turned into one of those people who suck at blogging.

This problem has been growing for months and has now turned into a full-blown issue. In recent months I've taken on a new role at work that requires more time spent actually working, more creativity from me and more overall consideration and thought put into every single thing I do. This affects the blog because I feel like every ounce of creativity is oozed out of me at work. That statement would make it seem like (1) I find myself to be very creative and (2) that I think other people think I'm creative. False. I think that people read this blog solely for the purpose of procrastinating at work. I recognize this and like that people would rather read this blog than fill in an Excel sheet, which is really like saying, people would rather listen to me talk than have someone poke them repeatedly with a fork. Duh.

Anyway, my apologies to those of you out there in the internetS who have found themselves being more productive at work because of my lack of web log postings.

I'll leave you with a few thoughts I've had over the last few weeks:

• Holly, Heidi's sister and cast member on The Hills has been approached several times about going to rehab. I have a problem with this because the way Holly acts (and dances) is the way I act on an almost regular basis and I don't have rehab scheduled until at least 2014. Maybe I'm missing something, but if the girl is still drinking expensive liquor and mixing it with Coke products she's fine-- it's when she heads straight for the jug of Heaven Hill or Dewar's and drinks it straight without a flinch or any type of reflex that we should start to worry.
• I go to bed almost every single night before or right at 9pm. I'm confident that this is not normal and where I see it as disciplined and effective it's only setting me up for failure come time for any type of social activity that will require my eyelids to be open and my body to have something draped over it other than sweatpants for a time period that extends past the 9 o'clock hour.
• This past year I have seen two of my closest and dearest friends walk through fire. I've been humbled by their words and actions throughout this battle and have never been more confident in the Lord after seeing their refinement throughout the daily struggles this fire has produced. A year ago I remember saying to each of them, individually, that eventually they'd be able to see the refinement and have a new perspective on Jesus, but looking back I'm not sure I even really believed what I was saying. I was grasping for anything to say to them to encourage them. Turns out, I was right. After everything, I have a new perspective on Jesus. I've been refined. I'm changed because of them and I will forever look at them differently. Now, where I once saw two dear and very special friends I also see my heroes. My literal, real-life heroes. That sounds beyond plastic and fake and you can believe that if you want, but Jesus isn't plastic, He is real and when you open your eyes you can see that and believe it with your whole heart.

oh, the youtubes.

On an all too regular basis videos like this end up in my inbox. They make me giggle a little, my croanies and I will send a few e-mails back and fourth about it and then it's forgotten until someone else sends the video and being all cool I reply back, "Saw this over a month ago. Where have you been? But, SOOOOOOOOO funny."

For the most part videos like this one bring me moments of happiness, but at the core of those moments there is sadness. Why? Because these people are obviously lacking a few things in their life. Things like people who say, "What the hell are you doing taping yourself why you're on the toilet?" Clearly, there's no support system for this woman. Clearly, this is a call for help, one last chance for her to lasso in her all but escaped dignity and form a regular life. I have no doubts that she made this video because no one in her clique responded to the dozen text messages she sent out the previous night asking, "where my gUrls at?" This video is a cry for attention, a plea to those who have left her all alone on the toilet to tape herself.

Are you or someone you know struggling with a need for attention? Do you regularly make embarrassing videos and post them on the internetS for the world to view? Do you need a hug? Did your mother make you do your own laundry starting in fifth grade? Did you retreat into a life of solitude after your karaoke career stalled?

If you can answer "yes" to any of those questions you need to disable your Youtube account and get away from the internetS.

my brosef.

A few years ago, we'll say 29, a baby boy was born to the Reg and LJ in Dog Town, Arkansas (North Little Rock). Because, three years later, I was born to these same parents that little boy is my brosef.

My brosef, despite our numerous differences, has always been my biggest fan. You would think that honor would go to the Reg and LJ, but they don't think I'm as funny as he does. In high school he never missed any event or game I was participating in. In junior high, the few times the parentals couldn't make a game he would come without them so I wouldn't have to ride the bus home. The kid even helped coach my softball teams when I was younger. He'd spend hours and hours with me in the driveway playing basketball. On nights that weren't school nights we'd play well past midnight.

He graciously taught me to drive, "brake in, gas out." He drove me to school and picked me up almost everyday after he turned 16. He would drive me to Wal-Mart and the grocery store and to the donut shop before church. He probably did those things because he was forced to, but sometimes he let me pick out the music, meaning I could choose from Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, Sr. or Garth Brooks. If we were ever in the car and he knew I was sad he could immediately make me laugh by simply honking the horn or tilting the steering up to make it look like a bus steering wheel. We called it "bus driver mode" and it was the highlight of any drive together.

These stories make it seem like we had this picturesque relationship growing up and nothing could farther from the truth. He tortured me plain and simple. He was always stealing my teddy bear (creatively named, Teddy) and my blanket. He always fought me for the front seat and the remote. And when we got older and I started using hair styling tools that required to be plugged in to the wall if I ever forgot to unplug them he'd hide them and tell the Reg that I was going to burn the house down soon. I usually wouldn't notice they were hidden until I was about to leave the house and actually needed them.

When all of those things were happening I would have never imagined that my Brosef or even myself would ever grow-up or ever truly like each other. I couldn't have been more wrong. Today, not only do I like my brosef, I love him. In him, I see an extremely kind individual that can't tell a funny story to save his life. I see a kid who took a passion for sports and applied it to his job and now stands on the sidelines coaching. It scares the hell out of me that he also stands at the front of a classroom every day and teaches these same kids, but hey-- you can't win them all. I see a man who used to be a shy little boy who couldn't do anything without being prodded along now fully confident in talking to brick walls. I see a teenager and young adult who got the "friend card" pulled on him several times married to an incredibly smart, caring, fun girl that is so far out of his league he can't see her league!

Brosef, thanks for all the encouragement over the years even if I saw it as annoying. It's because of you that I write and that I tell stories. It's because of you that girls all over the state of Arkansas know how to "drag bunt." It's because of you that I remember to turn off my Chi every morning. And it's because of you that holidays are fun.

Thanks for being my brosef, even though you didn't have a choice. HAPPY BURRDAY.

the hills: party poopers.

Who is playing who K-Cav asks and then tells Lo she is heading to Laguna to "get away." And of course, K-Cav breaks down every last detail of Brody's surprise party without any details at all. She describes MySpace gUrl, Jay-de, and Brody's relationship as "intent." I think she meant "intense," but I cannot read her mind. Probably because she doesn't have one (OH, I must admit that was a royal set-up).

"He has to work for it." --K-Cav

I don't think slutty girls know what that means. Probably means calling rather than texting.

------

StephiePratt, or Frankenstein's gUrlie, and Auds are hanging out and talking about Derek. But, she wasn't talking about Derek at all...she was talking about Justin the whole time.

"Go move on...I have." --Auds

Clearly.

-----

We follow K-Cav to Laguna to visit her folksies. Dennis, her pops, is popping open a bottle of wine and fixing a plate of cheese. I could be wrong, but in high school I recall K-Cav living, not by the beach, but in a really small house that resembled a trailer. Interesting. Must be a rental.

"Is Brody still kind of in love with himself?" --K-Cav Pops

Nail. Meet head.

K-Cav is breaking down the dynamics of the group to her parental unit and her pops keep shaking his head like he knows what's going on.

"He's kind of a flake. He has a lot of baggage." --K-Cav

-----

We meet up with the Pratties and Spencer is wearing that hat again. He claims Heidi's dad bought it for him, which proves that he must hate him. When they enter the club Holly is having a mini party all by herself. The gang is concerned.

"Hey Holly, how's it going? Best party EVER?" --CharlieBra

"Every single second of my life is the best second of my life." --Holly

"That's a good way to look at it." --CharlieBra

Isn't it though?

Holly talks to Heidi's "boss" and Heidi and Spence let the acting begin. StephiePratt steps in and tells her to calm her shit down, which she does by performing a choreographed dance. It was pretty good, so I think Spencer's claim of her downing 200 drinks was false.

-----

StephiePratt and Heidi get together and sit at a table at a restaurant. StephiePratt is serious and she means business. She starts telling Heidi that Holly drinks A LOT and is out of control which is a result of other problems going on in her life. StephiePratt tells Heidi that she NEEDS to talk to Holly and says, "take Spencer."

And scene.

If Spencer comes to my door to talk to me about anything, especially alcoholism or clothing, I'm out. OUT, I say.

-----

K-Cav is back in the 'Bu and J. Bobby is cooking up a storm for her. He apparently wasn't invited over and K-Cav is surprised to see him. He missed the party because he was "out of town for a little while."

"You having fun?" --J. Bobby

Can you really ask that about a situation that has been going for less than 12 seconds and literally nothing is happening? I mean, I guess you can, but it seems a little out of left-field. Fun? What about that could've possibly been fun?

-----

Auds and Derek are out on a little date-night. Derek asks for a CD and Auds just knows she already gave it to him, but WAIT, she could've given it up to Justin. Of course! Please tell me how every conversation Auds has involves J. Bobby.

"Are you over him?" --Derek

"Yeah..." --Auds

That was said with a bit of a shrug and a "well...sure...no...what" look.

-----

"You're going to tell your mom about me?" --K-Cav

"I don't want a boyfriend." --K-Cav

"Right, right...COME ON." --J. Bobby

-----

The Pratties are taking Holly out for a nice little intervention lunch. Holly wobbles in. Literally. Holly orders a margarita. At lunch. I guess if you don't have a job that's alright.

Heidi jumps right in with the "you have a problem." Spence even makes a few good points and Heidi jumps in and then you hear Spence say, "yeah, yeah!" He grunts a few times and throws in, "I saw you do a dance-off!" The grunts were a little much. I think he was probably mocking her dancing, but he was off-camera so I'll never know.

"We're so similar. Like a long-haired Spencer Pratt, with better dance moves." --Spence

Was there a compliment in there somewhere?

"Alcohol shouldn't be the number one love of my life, but we've had some great years together." --Holly

I want that on a Hallmark card.

Easiest intervention EVER.

-----

Finally, over to Brody's we go. K-Cav greets him at the door and I immediately see bad things happening. Also, the dog in the scene apparently used to be "their" dog. Interesting.

"He came to my Malibu house. He hunted me down." --K-Cav

Hunted you down? He knows your address. Easy hunt. I thought you wanted him to work for it. Give him a wrong phone number and tell him you live in Salt Lake City then see if he can find you.

-----

J. Bobby is walking the streets alone and we see that he's going to meet up with (GASP) Auds!

"I don't know whether to give you a hug?" --Auds

"Oh, we can just sit." --J. Bobby

As he sits two miles away. Boom. Roasted.

Auds wants to break the ice and doesn't want their to be awkwardness. Does awkward also mean boring?

J. Bobby is mad about Derek and he doesn't care. He pours out his heart and Auds greets him with a blank look.

"I would never be able to say anything was better than Audrina Patridge ever in my life." --J. Bobby

Even after you saw her acting skills in "Sorority Row?"

"I won't talk to Derek anymore." --Auds

It's that easy?

Wow, these people are just dumb. I can't even write anymore on that subject. I have a college degree and I just spent 23 minutes of my life watching this and then breaking it down. Maybe I'm the dumb one.

lisa, but with an "R."

My dear friend, Risa, is celebrating 27 years of living today, but really I'm the one celebrating. Celebrating because Risa is one of those people that you can call and spill your guts out to and you know nothing has changed. I could run over her cat, set her collection of My Little Ponies on fire and cut up her Anne Taylor Loft card and she would love me the same.

Risa is super smart, extremely funny and dresses very maturely. She's not the most amazing dancer I've ever met, but she can do a Pedro (from Napoleon Dynamite) impression better than anyone on Earth!

She's definitely someone you want on your team-- especially if you're losing, because she just has a great attitude. About everything. I know she'll disagree with that statement, but I don't care.

Risa, I hope your burrday is marvelous. I hope it's spent watching really crappy crime scene investigative shows or maybe with a round of non-alcoholic margaritas with your cray-z aunties from the West.

Risa, thanks: for being my friend. For g-chatting with me. For answering the phone at 3 a.m. when I'm making poor decisions. For taking me on two tours of D.C. For teaching me Daniel at camp, even though you didn't teach much. For never putting me in kayak at camp. For almost always giving me two off-periods at camp. For being a reference on my resume. For making me laugh. For encouraging me. For telling me to shut-up when I need to shut-up. For getting in line in '09. For being a good example. For recognizing good hair when you see it.

And most importantly, for being a unique and caring individual in a world that is becoming less and less unique and caring. You haven't saved me hundreds of dollars on therapy, but you have saved me thousands and I'm grateful for you.

Happy Burrday.