We're almost finished with our trip to my husband's home state. It's been fun and exhausting. I don't have time to write right now, but if you want to see what we've been up to and you haven't already, check out my husband's blog. By the way, my hair is in fact wet and not a ball of grease in the picture that contains me...just in case you were wondering.

I'll get back on the writing horse in a couple of days. Hope all is well for all you fine folks.

Labels: family

The mountain of laundry is eroding slowly but surely. We at least have clean underwear for the first few days of our trip. This process is rendering me completely brain dead. I can't imagine what it's like to have multiple children. Keeping up with the laundry for two adults and one kid is mind numbing. I would imagine that people with several kids feel like they do nothing but laundry all day every day. Note to self: win the lottery so you can hire a cleaning/laundry staff before you have any additional children...or else get your tubes tied or some other surgical solution to procreation.

My Little Sunshine is out-of-his-mind excited about going to see his grandparents. As soon as he got out of bed this morning, he started screaming, "I needa pack up!" He's been buzzing around the house all day gathering toys and emptying drawers. Dude can't wait to get the heck out of Dodge. I usually wait until a couple days before a trip to tell him where we're going for this very reason. I just can't control him. Not that I can any other time, but at least I feel like I'm making a reasonable impact. Not so at the moment.

Soul Mate and I just realized while planning for our trip that our seventh wedding anniversary is coming up right after we get back. After we realized that, Soul Mate said, "Well, at least it isn't a fifth or tenth or anything." I'm glad I'm secure enough in our marriage that that statement just made me laugh. There was a day that statement would have hurt my feelings and made me think that he didn't really give a crap about celebrating our marriage. I know that's not the case now. I understand that life happens. In the grand scheme of things, it's not that big a deal that we don't have some exciting celebration planned for our seventh anniversary. It's more important to focus on making every day a great day together and not just once a year.

It's amazing how much our life has changed during the course of our relationship. Our life together began in college, which is a whole life unto itself. There's no other stage of life that can compare to our time in college. We worked really hard and played much harder. We never fought because there was nothing to worry about except getting by and loving each other. Plus, when you're having that much sex, your outlook on life is a hell of a lot rosier than when you're stressed out, sleep-deprived, and worried about the future. Life was good then.

Life is good now, too. It's just very different. We have enough money to do most of the things we want to do, but not enough that we don't want to work for more. We have a love/hate relationship with our house, but we know that once we figure out where the hell we want to be and what we want to do, we have the means to solve that problem. We have an old dog who still shits on the carpet, but we love her anyway. Most of all, we have created this beautiful little person who definitely got the best qualities of each of his parents. I loved our life before Sunshine came along, but now it's a truely amazing journey. Every day has its own sets of joys and challenges. We have had to work harder at our relationship since we added a member to our family, but it has made us focus more on what is important. It may not be as easy or carefree, but our relationship has become much stronger in many ways.

As we head out on the first adventure of our summer, I am excited about our future. I don't know what's up, but I feel something in the air. I feel like this is going to be a big season of change in our life. I don't know why exactly. Maybe it's just because I'm itching for a change and hoping it will happen. Who knows? Whatever happens, though, I am thankful for what I have at this moment. I can't wait to see what else life throws our way.

Labels: family, Marriage, My Little Sunshine, Soul Mate

Fort Knox is now armed. ADT came out and worked some magic today. We now have beeping doors and panic buttons in place. There are also some random drill holes in the walls and piles of sheet rock dust around the house, but that's a rant for another day. I just don't understand why people who install stuff in your home can't clean up after themselves. Why not leave the house the way you found it? I mean, I'm paying you. Whatever. The bottom line is, if the dickwad who broke into our cars tries to do the same with our house, I'll at least know it's happening.

My Little Sunshine and I are sporting new 'dos. His is short and spikey, and mine is short and funky. It's what Uncle Ted would call a Woo-Do. I'm digging both 'dos, Soul Mate is having a little trouble with Sunshine's buzz cut. I think it's because he was trying to live vicariously through his son's hairline. I think he's young enough that his hair will grow back, so hopefully, Soul Mate will eventually chill out about it and perhaps even learn to like it.

Speaking of Sunshine, today was his last day at "school." He cried on the way to the car. "Mommy, I wanna go back to school," he whined. All the way home it was, "Mommy, I want my friends back." It's crazy to me that he's already old enough to have been through a school year, even though it's only preschool. Time goes by so freaking fast. Before I know it, he's going to be graduating from high school. Maybe by then I will have lost the ten pounds I can't seem to beat.

On the subject of poundage, I would just like to reiterate how unfair it is that my husband can eat and drink whatever the hell he wants and never exercise and remain the skinniest person we know, while I workout five or six days a week and I seem to be getting fatter (and I'm not knocked up for anyone who might be wondering). It just ain't right.

Another thing that just ain't right is that I'm functioning on about an hour of sleep right now. I feel like got hit by a Mac Truck. Last night was one of those nights that Soul Mate couldn't fall asleep in spite of taking "sleepy medicine." I stayed in bed, running through my to-do list, listening to the wind, and trying to get the damn dog to stop patrolling the house. She gets very upset when all her people aren't on the same floor of the house. That causes her to jump on and off the bed about a thousand times an hour and causes me to wish we had never let her sleep with us that first night eight years ago. I watched the clock turn to 2, 3, 4, and 5 o'clock. I think I slept a little between 5 and 6, when Sunshine made a few noises. When he started yelling for me to get him out of bed at 6:53am, I nearly cried. I've had a coffee, two cups of Tazo "Awake" tea, and several sodas, and I'm still wrecked. Bed time will be early tonight.

We're heading back to the Show Me state next week. I lived there for more than three years and never saw much of St. Louis. I spent a lot of time at the airport and a little time at the casino, but otherwise, I don't really know anything about St. Louis. Soul Mate's brother (a.k.a. Little Willie, Brother Beaker, or Crazy Smart Guy) and his lovely wife now live there, along with some of our good friends from college. We plan to spend a little time checking out the city to see why everyone digs it so much. Hopefully, Sunshine will get to spend some quality time with his uncle and aunt, and, of course, grandparents. Hopefully, Mommy and Daddy will get to have some grownup time with the assistance of said grandparents.

I guess I should stop procrastinating on those ridiculously large piles of laundry. It would be nice to show up at the Springfield airport wearing clean underwear.

Labels: family, My Little Sunshine, Random thoughts, Soul Mate

A journalist from our area died a couple of days ago doing something people in the news business do every day: shoot traffic accidents. He was standing on the side of the road shooting video of an overturned logging truck that had nearly shut down the interstate. I've sent countless crews out to report on stories like this. My husband has been a reporter on the side of the highway countless times. It could have been any one of my friends or former co-workers any time on any given day.

On this day, the journalist who died was in the wrong place at the wrong time in the path of an asshole in a hurry. Investigators are looking for that asshole right now. That person caused the death of a husband, father, grandfather, newsroom assignment editor, volunteer firefighter, and all-around nice guy. It makes me sick to think about it. I'd only met the man a couple of times. He worked at a competing station. Each time I met him, he was incredibly nice. He had a reputation of being a kind man and an excellent journalist. Many of my sources talked about how he was one of the most professional people in the market. He was well-loved, and his loss will be felt in many circles, especially among his family, friends and colleagues.



Today, when I was going to work out, one of the other ladies rushed up to me. She asked me if I knew the photographer who died. I told her I had met him but I didn't know him very well. I told her everyone thought he was an amazing person, and it was a very big loss for his station. She looked at me, smiled and said, "He must have been a Christian." What a strange thing to say, I thought. She elaborated, "I mean, everyone said he was always smiling, so he must have been a Christian." Not the kind of Christian you're thinking about, I thought. He was a member of the Unitarian Universalist Church in his area. Around here, the majority of people think if you're not Baptist, you're not Christian.

As I've gone through my day today, I keep going back to what this lady said to me. She is a very nice person. She's had nothing but kind things to say to me, and she's totally fascinated by the news business. She's constantly asking me questions about what I used to do for a living and the people with whom I used to work. We are acquaintances, but she doesn't know me very well. That means she doesn't know my religious beliefs. I'm sure she didn't mean anything negative by what she said, but it just hit me the wrong way. It insinuated that if this man was Jewish or Muslim or Buddhist or Agnostic or Aetheist, he wouldn't have been a happy person who smiled all the time. Although I admire people who have strong convictions, religious or otherwise, I don't understand why people automatically assume that everyone else is of like mind. I don't understand why you have to be a practicing Christian to be a good person.

I guess comments like this come from a position of majority. This woman lives in an area where 99 percent of people are Baptist. 99 percent of the time, a comment like that wouldn't make the listener blink or even think twice. I guess someone could wonder why the hell I'm thinking twice about it. It really isn't that big of a deal. I mean, it's not like she called him a sorry SOB. She called him a Christian, and his religion draws from many religious principles, including Christianity and Judaism. I guess it just bothered me that she made an assumption about him based upon the look she saw on his face on TV. By extension, I guess I don't want people to judge me or write me off as a bad person if I don't have the same beliefs as they do. From what I've heard about him, the journalist who died while doing his job this week wouldn't have done that.

He and his families are in my thoughts right now. I wish them peace and comfort. I also hope the person responsible for his death grows a conscience and turns himself or herself in. It won't bring back the man who died, but at least the community wouldn't have to worry about that person driving recklessly, weaving in and out of traffic, and putting other lives in danger.

Labels: Religion

Fatman at Nuclear Family tagged me with this Speed Dating meme. I'm having a hard time getting the juices flowing this morning, since My Little Sunshine chose to rise an hour early. Hopefully, this will be a good way to shake the cobwebs out of my brain. Wanna go out?

1. Coffee or Tea
Both. Tea at home and coffee at Liquid Highway at least twice a week.

2. Beer or Wine
Beer. I like wine occasionally, but it makes me drunk really fast and hungover even faster. You wine snobs might say it's because I'm drinking bad wine, and if you do, I'll say you can bite me.

3. Sweet or Savoury
Sweet. Sugar is probably my biggest weakness.

4. Blonde or Brunette
Brunette. I lost my virginity to a blonde boy, but he's the only blonde I've ever dated. I married a brunette boy.

5. Tall or Short
Tall. Soul Mate is tall. I am short. Unless I'm running in a pack of midgets, and then my 5'2" might be considered tall.

6. Skinny or Curvy
Both. Soul Mate is skinny. I am curvy. I wish I could be both skinny and curvy, but I haven't figured out how to make that happen.

7. Beard or Shaved
I used to prefer shaved, then Soul Mate grew a mustache and goatee to hide the hole he put in his face. I now love the goatee, but I never got used to kissing the mustache. He has thankfully shaved that part off.

8. Marmite or Jam
Hmmmm. I've got to try this marmite stuff. Fellow American, Raymond Pert, at Kellogg Bloggin' recently tried marmite at the urging of a European blogger. His description, if I recall correctly, involved socks, and that did not encourage me to try it at all. However, I will make it my goal to overcome my fear and try it, so I can answer this question. Stay tuned.

9. City or Beach
Beach every day and twice on Sunday. If we could afford the ridiculous price of property and insurance, we would live on the beach, or at least have a home on the beach and a home in the mountains. Ah. Dreams.

10. Movie or Book
Book. Movies are too damned expensive, the theatres are cold, and you have to operate on someone else's schedule.

11. Revenge or Forgive
Forgive. Plus, I'm a big believer in karma. What comes around goes around. Eventually.

12. Meat or Veg
Veg. I was a vegetarian for about five years. Several years ago, I added chicken and seafood back into my diet.

13. Spit or Swallow
Neither. Strategically aim.

14. Gym or Sofa
Gym. Just thinking sofa will make me gain five pounds. Gym. Gym. Gym. That didn't make me lose any weight. It apparently doesn't work in reverse.

15. Cat or Dog
Dog. I would make nasty comments about cats pawing around in their own crap, but my dog eats hers, so that wouldn't make sense, would it?

16. Breast or Bum
Well, Soul Mate has neither. I have both. Average breasts. Ample bum.

17. GSOH or good looking
I wish I knew what GSOH meant. I'll have to get back to you on this one.

18. Left or Right
I'm right-handed, but I usually take the center on most political issues. On social issues, I'm more left-leaning.

19. Monarchy or Republic
I'm an American, so I haven't experienced a monarchy firsthand. At this point in my nation's history, I will not stand in judgement of any other form of government. I have no feelings of superiority whatsoever.

Labels: About me, Fatman, Meme

I love music. Love it. Love it. Love it. Unfortunately, I possess ZILCHO in the way of musical talent. I can't sing. I can't play a single instrument, and yet, music brings joy to my soul. Sometimes, the perfect song playing at the perfect time can turn my day around in an instant. All it takes is the first few beats of a particular song to balance out those chemicals in my brain.

This morning, I caught myself doing something I likely do all the time without noticing: I was cracking up other drivers. For some reason this morning, I was more awake and aware of my surroundings, so I actually looked at the people next to me at the stop light. A couple of times, when I turned their way, I could see the people laughing at me. I didn't care. I still don't.

They weren't laughing at me just because I'm funny looking. They were laughing because I was holding my own version of American Idol in my car. With the sunroof open. And the windows down. They weren't just laughing because they could hear me singing badly. They were also laughing because I dance while I sing and drive. Yep. I said it. I dance and drive. It's not the full-body dancing I like to do when not constrained by sitting or wearing a seat belt. It's my own little version of chair dancing, and I'm sure it's totally hot. Yeah. Just call me Carmen Electra.

It seems our son shares his parents love of music. He's started singing in the car with me. It makes me smile when I hear him sing along with whatever song is playing on my XM Satellite Radio. We must spend a lot of time in the car. He knows a lot of words to a lot of songs. The good thing for My Little Sunshine is that he has likely inherited some of his daddy's musical abilities. Sunshine's not afraid to strum on his guitar, bang on his bongos, or spit into his harmonica. He just likes making noise.

Sunshine spread some good cheer to his mommy and daddy while he was trying to take his nap this afternoon. Sometimes, the musical spirit can't be contained. We heard him up there tossing and turning. The next thing we knew, he was screaming the words to Frosty the Snowman at the top of his lungs. It was so hilarious, we couldn't be mad at him for not going to sleep. He's so excited because we're going to see his favorite musician tonight. He's got that condition that overcomes those two little kids in the Disney World commercial...the one where the little kid says, "I'm too EXCITED to sleeeeeep" in that cute little squeaky voice. I can't wait to see Sunshine singing and dancing along with Billy Jonas tonight. I know it's going to light up my world. And I'll probably be singing and dancing right along with him.

Labels: Memorable moments, Music, My Little Sunshine, Stupid Stuff I Do

I was searching the internet one day looking for ways to stimulate My Little Sunshine's budding brain. He's so incredibly smart it frightens me some days, and I want to help him learn so much. I also want to make sure I don't get too carried away with all that. He's not even three yet, and I often have to remind myself that he has a lifetime to gain book smarts. He'll only be a toddler once. The world is only new and cool once.

I was a very geeky student. I loved diagramming sentences. I loved making flashcards. I loved learning. I still do. However, I was also obsessed with being perfect. Obsessed with making good grades. Obsessed with being the best. I'm sure it has something to do with feeling rejected as a child, but whatever. I'll shrink myself some more later. The point is, I don't want my need for perfection or OCD tendencies to rub off on my son so much. I want him to love learning in a less stressful way. I want it to bring him joy. I also want to enjoy the joy it brings him.

Sometimes, I have to stab that perfectionist, competitive bitch in the eye. I started to worry that I might be squandering some valuable time to teach My Little Sunshine. That little bitch started whispering in my ear that Sunshine should already be able to write his letters, and speak three languages, and find a cure for cancer. She told me if he couldn't do these things by the time he turned three, he would never get into college, he'd never find a job, and he'd never be able to afford a nice nursing home for me. Since I had already stabbed both of her eyes out, I had to opt for a gut shot this time.

As I was tooling around on the internet looking for ways to stimulate Sunshine's mind, I found a really cool poem. I copied it into my word processing program for later use and forgot about it. The poem was enough to talk me down off the Psycho Competitive Mom ledge, but I didn't really take it to heart until a couple days later.

Sunshine and I were out on one of our daily adventures when I realized that he was learning around every turn, AND he was having fun. There were no flashcards. There were no drills. There were no diagrams. Just me and the kiddo having a great time together. That's when I really got what that poem meant. That's when I really started to chill the hell out and enjoy being the mom of a really great little boy who won't be little for very much longer.

If we stop rushing through life from one scheduled event to another and take some time to just be, our kids might learn a little just because they want to and just because there's something to learn everywhere you look, if only you slow down long enough to look at it. It doesn't mean anything to say you took your kid to the zoo. But, it meant a lot to my son today when we stopped rushing through all the animal exhibits (because we were getting close to closing time) and instead watched a digger and a dump truck move the earth on the new giraffe exhibit. He got to see the things we read about in books in action, and it was the coolest thing he's seen in, well, at least a few days. I stopped giving a crap that we wouldn't get to see all the animals before they kicked us out. I stopped worrying that there was sweat running down my face. I stopped worrying that my arms were about to fall off from holding him up so long. I just enjoyed the glow coming from My Little Sunshine. It doesn't get any better than that.

Here's the poem to which I've been referring. If you have kids, it will likely bring a smile to your face. Hell, it might make you smile even if you don't have kids.

I Took His Hand and Followed
Author Unknown

My dishes went unwashed today,
I didn't make the bed,
I took his hand and followed
Where his eager footsteps led.
Oh yes, we went adventuring,
My little son and I...
Exploring all the great outdoors
Beneath the summer sky
We waded in a crystal stream,
We wandered through a wood...
My kitchen wasn't swept today
But life was gay and good.
We found a cool, sun-dappled glade
And now my small son knows
How Mother Bunny hides her nest,
Where jack-in-the-pulpit grows.
We watched a robin feed her young,
We climbed a sunlit hill...
Saw cloud-sheep scamper through the sky,
We plucked a daffodil.
That my house was neglected,
That I didn't brush the stairs,
In twenty years, no one on earth
Will know, or even care.
But that I've helped my little boy
To noble manhood grow,
In twenty years, the whole wide world
May look and see and know.

Labels: Education, Learning, My Little Sunshine Memorable Moments

I haven't played tag since junior high school, and it's apparently changed a bit since then. Now, it's a little less physical and a lot more technical. MGM has tagged me to play a "random fact" game. Why the heck not, I say!

The game goes like this: if you're tagged and you choose to play, you post seven random facts about yourself on your blog, then tag seven other people to do the same by leaving a comment on their blogs.

Who knows? Maybe we'll learn some interesting things about each other during our game. My buddy at Kellogg Bloggin' didn't tag me, but he did his seven random facts based on the seven deadly sins. It was a creative take on the game.

Here are my seven random things. I just typed them as they popped into my head and stopped at seven. Perhaps if I thought about it some more, my randomness would be a little more interesting, but I'm not sure that's the point.

1. I've lived in various cities in seven states: Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana, Texas, Mississippi, Missouri, and South Carolina.

2. I love to be barefooted outside, but I am rarely barefoot inside.

3. I crack my knuckles (much to the chagrin of my mom and my friend, KD).

4. I can't stand for my toenails to go unpainted during the spring and summer (winter's a totally different story).

5. I love making people laugh.

6. I'm obsessive about recycling at home (I often dig in the trash).

7. I am a strung-out chocoholic.

I tag:

1. E at 67 Degrees

2. Doog at Continuation Bet

3. Ms. All-in at Pokerbtch

4. Kelly at My Li'l Guy

5. Kym at Oh, Yes...a Blog

6. The Rooster at My Little City Blog

7. Buckeye Timmy at Worlds Beyond Rittman

Labels: Random Facts, Tag

We lost him almost a year ago. It still doesn't seem possible that he's gone, and it doesn't seem possible that it's been that long.

Tonight, Soul Mate, My Little Sunshine and I went to a ceremony at our old television station in honor of our friend Gulfman, who died of a brain tumor last year. I thought I was going to feel weird going back into that building given the current environment, but I wanted to be there for this.

Instead, we walked up to an open door and open arms. It felt good being there. It felt good to remember Chris in that place. We've done it many other places many other times since his death, but tonight, it felt right and good to do it in the place for which he worked so very hard and dedicated so much of his life.

The photojournalist who planned it couldn't have done a better job. He doesn't speak for a living. He's a TV news photographer who is used to listening to other people talk. The words that came out of his mouth tonight were nothing short of beautiful. They flowed naturally, and they were from a place deep within his heart. He showed tonight what friends do for friends. He was a brother and a leader. He set the perfect tone to remember a man who touched all of our lives very deeply. We laughed. We cried. We laughed some more.

Every year from now on, a student will get a scholarship for University of South Carolina's journalism program in Gulfman's name. It's fitting, because education meant a lot to him and his wife. They've already chosen the first recipient.

The station had a plaque made with Gulfman's picture to hang next to the employee picture board. Everyone will see what he meant to the station every time they walk past that board. All of those new people on that board should aspire to his example. He was a model employee. He actually gave a shit about the station's mission statement. He cared about the stock price. He cared about every story. Every one.

The photog staff created a new photographers' lounge and dedicated it to him. The matted and framed pictures that Uncle Ted's family made for Gulfman's funeral is now on the wall in that room. The photogs will see it every time they enjoy their new digs. Hopefully, his smiling face will remind them to live their lives every minute of every day they have. He was the last person we all thought we'd be remembering like this.

There's now a bench out in front of the station that's engraved with his name. We each put a red rose under the bench as the station's helicopter flew overhead. Gulfman spent a lot of time in that damn thing. It was a really nice tribute to him.

Every day, I'm amazed by the strength and character of Gulfman's wife. Some days, she feels so broken she can't see what I see. She's a tough cookie. A beautiful woman. Kind, caring, and thoughtful. Tonight, as we were wrapping up the tribute, through her tears, she made us all laugh. During the first speech of the tribute, the organizer mentioned Gulfman used to set up his TV light kit to mow his lawn after dark. After she put her rose next to the bench at the end of the ceremony, she added, "Gulfman also used to use his lights to grill." Damn. She's amazing.

It felt really good to be there tonight, even though this was a very sad occasion. It was a reminder that even though we don't work there anymore, the people with whom we worked are still our family. I'm honored to have been Gulfman's friend, and I'm honored to have been a part of that big family. I know he was, too. We miss you, man.

Labels: Friends, Gulfman, Memorial, Station

I have lots of hilarious stories to tell from my weekend trip to the Magnolia State, but I don't have a ton of time right now. I do have a symbol to share with you, however.



My mom ordered a cake for Little Bro to celebrate his 23rd birthday and his college graduation. He's been getting Baskin Robbins icecream cakes for this birthday since he was one, so this is sort of a family tradition. Mom ordered him one from the BR in Stark-Vegas. Now, there were a lot of people graduating from Cow Patty State this weekend. I don't know how many moms and dads ordered cakes for their kids, but I would say there were a few. Given that there's only one BR in town, I would bet that we weren't the only ones who ended up with a cake like that one.

Not only was it the wrong cake (my Little Bro always gets the one that's all icecream with the chocolate cookie sprinkles and caramel in the center), but as you can see from the picture, it was also a spelling nightmare. Oh, and I just noticed from looking at the picture that the & is actually a cursive "S"! Hilarious!

My Old Mom would have gotten this person fired and gotten free icecream cakes for herself and every member of her family for the rest of their natural lives. My New Mom just laughed and let it ride. College kids don't give a shit about the details of free food. The fact that it's free is enough, and New Mom gets that. This was not a crisis like it could have been a couple of years ago. For that, I am very thankful.

I will now see this cake as a symbol of New Mom's existence and as a reminder of just how valuable an education is. This is why we go to college, folks: Congrdulations is not a word in the English language.

Labels: Education, Little Bro Graduation

When I was a working person, I was fairly on top of things. I got paid to be on top of things. Some time after I quit my job, my superior organizational skills quit me. A while back, Raymond Pert at Kellogg Bloggin' nominated me for a Thinking Blogger Award. I thanked him, but I didn't immediately pass on the Thinking Blogger love. Recently, Mommy Dearest from Brodh2o sent some more blogger love my way, and now I am so bursting with pride that I can't stand it. These are two of my favorite writers out there in the blogosphere, so I am truely touched by their kind words. So, in the interest of blogger karma, I'm going to spread some of that love around.



What exactly is a Thinking Blogger? Well, in my interpretation, put most simply, it's a person whose blog makes you think. Duh. Most of the blogs I read daily make me think. If they don't, I promptly delete them from my Bloglines feed, so I don't waste my time checking in with them every time they update. I picked the following five not only because they are among my favorites, but because they make me think in different ways, some with deep thoughts, some with humor, and some with a fresh perspective on every day things. Almost all of them make me laugh at one point or another, almost all of them inspire me in one way or another, and I love all of their writing. So, that's how I picked 'em. I hope you enjoy their work as much as I do.

1. Rapid Eye Reality
OK. So, Otis is my husband. But in the years we worked together in TV news, I was always harder on him than anyone else. That was partly because I didn't want it to look like I was showing him any favoritism, but mostly because I expected more of him. He is the best writer I know. He takes you places with his words. He makes the hum-drum of our daily lives sound so beautiful that I want to cry. Sometimes, I read his blog and have to remind myself that he's talking about our life. It's that good. If you read his writing and don't feel something, come back here for a full refund.

2. Brodh2o-Mommy Dearest
Mommy Dearest is a crime reporter, a wife, and a mother of two. I've never met her, but she is my hero. I love her writing and the stories she chooses to share with the rest of us, but I really love her attitude. Whereas I spend a lot of time bitching and focusing on the negative, Mommy Dearest is almost always positive, unless it's completely justified. She has a great spirit and a fantastic sense of humor. Plus, you'll get the occasional guest post from her man, The Otis, who is also quite funny. If you don't enjoy her blog, then you have no soul.

3. Kellogg Bloggin'-Raymond Pert
RP was the first person to find my blog. He was reading it when it was just an experiment. I wasn't sure it was going to last, but RP offered me so many kind words of encouragement. On days when I didn't think my writing was good enough to keep doing it, RP would leave a comment, and I'd write some more. I started reading his blog after his first comment on mine. He's a fantastic writer and incredibly interesting. He's a college professor with an amazing memory. He writes about life growing up in Kellogg, Idaho, about how his students inspire him, and about the beauty he finds in the arts. He often includes a list of "Three Beautiful Things" from his day. I've often thought of stealing this idea to force myself to focus on the positive things in my world, but I'm not sure I have the discipline for that. If you don't find RP's blog interesting, then you're just too stupid to get it.

4. Oh, Yes...a Blog-Kym
This spirited blogger stands out from the rest because I've actually met her in person. She's as fantastically real in real life as she is in this internet world. I met her through my husband, who is a part of the poker blogger community, but I've connected with her through her more personal writing. She is another woman whose spirit I greatly admire. Although she and I are at different places in our lives, we share common interests, and I believe we are kindred spirits. Her writing is so honest, and it touches me on a very personal level. Plus, she watches American Idol with me from halfway across the country on the girlie chat thingy. What more can you ask for? If you don't like her blog, you're likely not human.

5. I am Livid-Mr. Angry
I've been anonymously stalking Mr. Angry for a while now. I don't think I've ever actually commented on his blog, but I've wanted to many times. I guess I'm afraid he'll think I'm a stupid American who doesn't deserve to live or something. I don't know. Anyway, the point of his blog is to talk about the people, places and things that piss him off. I think he's after my own heart. I can't get enough of his rants. They are hysterical. Not only that, he's not just angry, he's usually right. He's just a guy who expects the universe to function in a rational manner most of the time, and most of the time it doesn't. That's when things get funny over at "I Am Livid." Most of the time, it is intelligent, and his outrage is contagious. It is fantastic social commentary. If anyone clicks through to him off my blog, maybe it will cause him to go on a rant about how much he hates memes or internet stalkers. That would be funny, too. If you don't laugh at his blog, you might be dead. I'd call a doctor immediately.

So there ya go. If you wanna keep spreading this blogger love around, here are the Thinking Blogger Award rules:

1. Write a post with links to five blogs that make you think,

2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme,

3. Optional: Proudly display the ‘Thinking Blogger Award’ with a link to the post that you wrote (here is an alternative silver version if gold doesn’t fit your blog).

Labels: Kym, Mommy Dearest, Mr. Angry, Raymond Pert, Soul Mate, Thinking Bloggers

As I started to type this, that Alana Myles song, Black Velvet, came on my ipod. It starts out, "Mississippi in the middle of a dry spell..." When I was in college in Missouri in the dead of winter, I often played this song on the juke box at one of my favorite hole in the wall pool halls. It's easy to think of the Mississippi heat "warmly" from afar, especially when it's below freezing and snowing. But when your re-entry to the Soupy South is imminent, your feelings may not be as fond.

My baby brother is graduating from college this weekend, and, therefore, I'm packing up and heading south. I'm leaving My Little Sunshine and Soul Mate alone in the house for the second time, so I've been busy as a little bee trying to get everything together for them before I leave. It's stupid, really. I'm only going to be gone for 36 hours, and it's not like Soul Mate can't handle things by himself for that long, but I'm still nervous about it.

Now, Bon Jovi's Dead or Alive is on my ipod, and I'm thinking back to how Chris Richardson butchered it on American Idol Tuesday night. That is definitely why he went home last night. You can't Justin-ize an 80s anthem like that and expect to be rewarded for it. I mean, you're a cutie and all, but that just ain't gonna cut it.

My baby brother was only two years old when Slippery When Wet came out. That's insane. I was 12, and I listened to that album on my jam box non-stop in my carport with my best friend, Tiny Dancer. Her dad called her Tiny, because she was, well, tiny, and she was, in fact, a dancer. Anyway, while Tiny Dancer and I lip synced and danced to this music all day long, my little brother dug in the dirt with his Tonka trucks a few feet away. He had all kinds of them: dump trucks, backhoes, bulldozers, you name it. He was a very energetic little boy, but even at two, that dirt pile could hold his attention for hours. It was a good thing for me, because I started babysitting my brother and sister as soon as they came along, and I often resented that. The dirt pile always gave me a few minutes of peace.

It's hard to believe that that little boy digging in the dirt pile is all grown up. It happened so fast, and I missed so much of it. I moved away to go to college when he was 9, and I never looked back. I've only seen him once or twice a year since then. That sucks, but that's the way our lives have turned out. I left Mississippi with no intentions of returning. He's never left. There's also a generation gap of sorts separating us. I pretty much raised him. My parents had to work a lot to make ends meet, and so I took on a lot of the parental duties. I learned a lot of the skills I'm using now with my own child, but man, I was pissed off about it as a teenager.

I don't know my little brother as well as I'd like to. He's a lot like my dad in that he's very private. He doesn't say much about what's going on in his life. Plus, since he's been in college, he's been living the college boy life. He's been studying and partying and partying and studying and even studying while partying. He doesn't have a lot of time to check in with his old bag of a sister. I'm hoping that once he gets through all this we'll find a way to reconnect. Of course, if he does go to law school after his "year off," that will be delayed by a few more years, but for me it will be better late than never.

This weekend will be another reminder that life is flying by way too fast. Before I know it, My Little Sunshine will be graduating from college. I can't stand the thought of that, but time goes on, like it or not.

So, the bottom line here is that I'll be trudging through cotton in the Mississippi Delta. I'm not sure the internet has made its way there yet, so I doubt I'll be checking in for the next coupla days. If you know how to reach them, check in on my boys for me. They'll be partying it up without Anal Retentive Mom around, but they still might get a little lonely. They might even miss me for a minute or two, but I doubt it.

Have a great weekend!

Labels: Bon Jovi, Graduation, Little Bro, Mississippi

Just in case you don't read the comments on my blog, I wanted to put this in a separate post. My buddy, Raymond Pert from Kellogg Bloggin', sent this to me. It was in the New York times yesterday. Every time I read about Genarlow Wilson's case, I get mad.

There are a lot of unchecked, out-of-control prosecutors in America who often try to rise to political fame on the backs of innocent people. Mike Nifong did it in the so-called Duke rape case, and David McDade is doing it in Genarlow Wilson's case in Georgia. If we as a nation allow this to happen to kids like Genarlow Wilson and the young men in the Duke rape case, then we are setting up a system in which any one of us could become a victim of prosecutorial misconduct at any moment.

Please note that I truely believe most prosecutors are good people. Most of them do amazing work, give voice to the voiceless, and put the bad guys away. There are a few exceptions who are complete assholes and threaten the very foundations of the American justice system.

The following is from the New York Times:

Georgia's Shame

Published: April 30, 2007

Every day that young Genarlow Wilson remains in prison for consensual sexual activity is a further indictment against the prosecutors, lawmakers and judges of the Georgia legal system. Lawyers for Mr. Wilson have applied for a writ of habeas corpus to challenge his cruel and unusual 10-year sentence. The Superior Court should grant it.

When he was 17, Mr. Wilson received oral sex from a 15-year-old girl. For that, he has served over two years of a strict minimum decade-long prison term. He was convicted of aggravated child molestation, a charge intended for adult sexual predators. If Mr. Wilson had engaged in sexual intercourse with the same girl, it would have been a misdemeanor under an exemption for contact between minors. Oral sex was left out. Legislators have since corrected the unintended trap. If Mr. Wilson engaged in the same action today, it would be a misdemeanor.

The Board of Pardons and Paroles is legally prohibited from granting clemency for this offense. And the State Senate adjourned for the year without taking up a bill that would have allowed judges to review sentences in cases like Mr. Wilson?s.

The behavior of the district attorney, David McDade, requires particular scrutiny. He charged Mr. Wilson with raping a different girl at the same party, and a jury acquitted him in 2005. Mr. McDade has distributed a graphic videotape of the events in that case to legislators as part of a lobbying effort at the State Senate against Mr. Wilson?s release. And Mr. McDade went on television last month and said, referring to Mr. Wilson and others involved, ?Six young men basically gang-raped a 17-year-old.?

At best, this is irresponsible considering that Mr. Wilson was acquitted of the charge. It demonstrates poor judgment not by a minor, but by an adult who should know better.

Labels: American Justice System, Genarlow Wilson, Georgia, Oral sex