all-star.

Getting ready to hunker down and watch some NCAA March Madness has caused me to think about some of my own experiences with upsets or the proverbial choke that eventually happens to all good teams or players.

Growing up, I played softball until 7th grade. I was pretty decent. And by decent I mean, I had the deadly triple-threat combination of being able to hit, throw and catch. You could've labeled me an All-Star and you would not have been that far off (toot-toot, I think that's my own horn).

Anyway, I digress. I quit in 7th grade to "pursue other opportunities." Honestly, I'm pretty positive that's what I told most of my softball playing friends. Who says that? Especially as a 7th grader? My other opportunities were AAU basketball. Which really just boiled down to one opportunity. One opportunity to spend every weekend of my spring and summer sitting on the end of the bench in a really obscure gymnasium usually, in Little Rock or maybe Pine Bluff. On a good weekend we were in Fayetteville. Oh, there I go again digressing.

So, I quit in softball in 7th grade and picked it back up again in 11th grade playing for my church team. What a band of misfits-- one church secretary, the music minister's daughter, one high school assistant principal, one regular lady in her mid-30s and six or seven of my friends. Somehow we managed to win more games than we lost and then came the proverbial choke. My horse was no longer high.

They put me in at pitcher. We had a huge lead. I walked nine straight batters and gave up on pitching. One of my friends stepped in and walked two more batters. She tossed the ball back to me. Another walked batter. And that's when my life changed forever.

I walked away from the pitching rubber to "re-group," if you will. And you will. The church secretary walked over to me and whispered things in my ear no church secretary should know about. I'm talking bombs. F-bombs, S-bombs, D-bombs-- you name the four-letter word and she said it to me. I mean, I knew Methodists were pretty liberal and more open about abusing grace than a Baptist, but this was too much! It's not like my Sunday School teacher was offering to wash my feet while listening to DMX-- where was the line? I limped back to the pitching rubber and got us out of the inning. We won the game.

I never pitched again, which is probably good because the church secretary would've needed to go to church every single day for 16 years to make up for the tongue lashing she gave me.

put it on my tombstone.

I have no fear in telling the internetS that I was fairly accomplished in high school. There is no fear in sharing that because, first off, it's just a fact. Second, you can look it up and lastly, that was seven years ago and who the hell cares?

So, yeah, I was fairly accomplished in high school and I thought I was pretty cool. Then, I went to college and came to find out: everyone else was fairly accomplished, much smarter, a lot prettier and had dozens of purses to choose from on any given occasion.

The day I moved into my dorm room I knew I wasn't much when I saw the girl three doors down from me carry in a whole box of belts. A whole box of belts? I had two belts: black and brown.

Immediately, I had to think of something to set myself apart from the girl and her belt collection. I drove a '93 Corolla, so my car was out. I had a chi straightener, but so did half the dorm. Then, it hit me! I don't drink! That's it! I'll be the girl that doesn't drink alcohol. Oh, then I met some girls that quickly became my best friends and they didn't drink either. So, I made the decision that would forever shape me: I decided that I would never, ever, ever drink a beer. The barley and hops would never touch my lips (but, the vodka definitely would).

And now, at 25, that's my accomplishment: I've never consumed a beer of any kind. That, and I know the Presidents in chronological order.

Put it on my tombstone. Or not. It's whatevies, I'll be dead.

birth day.

I was lucky enough to be at the hospital yesterday afternoon when Lil' Hoodrat Harper finally made her not-so-casual, yet fashionably late entrance into this economically troubled world.

I'm incredibly thankful for a friend like Lauren who will let me be a part of this whole labor and delivery process (not that I did anything besides show up with some off-brand My Little Ponies and sit in the waiting room). I'm even more thankful that her mother and Mare were there to explain some parts of the birthing process to me. I'll go ahead and say it-- I'm not ready for children. I know this fully because I'm still overwhelmed by the fact that yesterday at this time Harper WAS INSIDE of Lauren functioning and now she's OUTSIDE functioning. I mean, what?

It's safe to say that that little gUrl is going to be so loved and I can't wait for her to look back and realize some day that there were so many people there waiting on her arrival and that she is and was loved long before she ever decided to show up. I also hope she realizes that it's an incredible testament to who her parents are that people would come and wait on her. She's a blessed kid already.

BTW, I can't wait until we can start texting.

I think I'll call her, "Angel Face," that is until she realizes it's completely creepy. Especially coming from me.

They let me hold her. I was probably more worried than anyone else though. Grace abounds.

to harper, on her birthday.

Harper,

Right now, at this moment, you are on your way into the world. Unfortunately, you're moving a little slow and very much at your own pace. I respect that, I do, but I hope by the time you're 12 and we're going on road trips you realize there is only one pace-- mine.

Anyway. Today is March 11th. Not a bad day to be born. I kind of like the numbers actually. And you aren't going to be over-shadowed by any holidays. Well, except Lent, but that's more of a season and I doubt anyone will be giving you up for Lent, so you should be safe.

There are some pretty interesting things going on in the world today, your mom is busy and apparently your father hurt himself lifting weights, so I am going to act as scribe to remember all that is going on today.

First off, in an unprecedented move American Idol has 13 contestants. I know, right? I wish I could give you some more info, but I haven't watched last night's episode yet, because you should know-- Tuesday night is for Biggest Loser. I apologize.

Lost is your parents favorite show. I'm kind of nervous about tonight actually, I hope your dad can juggle your birth and watching tonight!

Barack Obama is president. Yes, he's black. So, it's a pretty big deal. Hopefully, by the time you're older it won't be as big a deal, maybe it'll even be common. I'd like that.

Democrats are in control in Congress. It's interesting. Oh, and everyone on The Hill (Capitol Hill) is obsessed over Twitter. You should get a Twitter so everyone knows your every move. Or not.

The Arkansas Razorbacks had a pretty poor season last year. Alabama kicked the you know what out of them, but things are looking up for this season. I mean, Casey Dick is gone. So, that's good.

Chris Brown beat up Rihanna. And she forgave him. I'm all about grace, but COME ON. Britney Spears is back on tour. I'm going, so I'll update you on that later.

Harper, you're really coming into the world at an interesting time. Times are changing. I'm glad you'll be along for the ride. I can't wait until you start texting! It's all the rage.

See you sooner than later,
Auntee lc

home.

I need to be clear: I am incredibly blessed to be in Dallas with a great job, awesome friends and a wonderful hair dryer. But, there's just something about going home (I use the term, "home" loosely when describing the western portion and Little Rock areas of Arkansas) that fills up my soul in an indescribable way.

I swear my feet are lighter, my smile is bigger and my hair produces more volume in the form of a "poof," on the weeks I know I am headed north-- homeward bound.

I'm just saying it's pretty awesome to have two places to call home. Two places to put your feet up, two places where you know you're loved, two places you can't ever really imagine leaving (even if you did) and two places that offer up quality hair products at affordable prices.

The first sign of home-- ANO--The Big Job.

The Arkansas "poof."

My heartbeat: Old Main.

not shocking.

Come on, who was honestly shocked last night while watching The Bachelor? I know this is a family- friendly blog, that constantly proclaims the Gospel of Jesus Christ, so you'll have to forgive me for the following: what a piece of shit. I mean, that is all that comes to mind. That asshole of a Bachelor is nothing but a piece of shit. 

He's like a senior in high school, dates the senior girl, his equal all throughout high school, then it's time for prom and suddenly, he breaks up with the senior girl and asks out the sophomore. Piece. of. Shit. 

Jason is not awesome, but I guess he is normal. I'll give him credit for that. I hope Molly buys some new jeans for Jason. His flare leg denims are stressing me out, period. 

coming soon.

Easter.

Nothing makes me as giddy as an empty tomb.

Nothing.