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.