Monday, April 30, 2007


Am I the only one who is super excited about all the good movies that Hollywood is about to unleash upon us?

Dreamgirls comes out on DVD tomorrow, and That Thing You Do 2-disc Special Edition and the 20th Anniversary Dirty Dancing both come out next week!

AND - in theaters this summer - we have The Ex, Pirates 3, Knocked Up, Ocean's 13, Evan Almighty, License to Wed, Hairspray, Wedding Daze, Good Luck Chuck, Nanny Diaries and MORE! Normally I am wont to skip going to the movies because tickets have gotten so expensive, but I may not be able to wait for some of these! I better start saving my pennies.

And please notice that the stupid Harry Potter movie is NOT on my list. L-A-M-E.

Saturday, April 28, 2007


Deep thoughts by Meredith Grey:

"Too often, the thing you want most is the one thing you can't have. Desire leaves us heartbroken, it wears us out. Desire can wreck your life. But as tough as wanting something can be, the people who suffer the most, are those who don't know what they want."

Tuesday, April 24, 2007


Remember when I wrote some funny memories from high school? That was fun. Let's go there again.

This is actually a junior high story, which means it was ten times more excruciatingly embarrassing at the time. But it requires a lot of background information.

One of the biggest traditions of eighth grade was President's Day, where we were assigned Presidents and First Ladies to research for a grade in our American History class. We had to write reports on them, and then the week of President's Day, in February, there was a big banquet where we had to dress up in character and parade - literally - around all day with our partner. After the parade (which was through the halls of the elementary school), some of the moms dressed up as "White House staff" and served us lunch and then there was a ceremony with speeches, music and a speaker. My partner and I were President and Mrs. Andrew Jackson.

After the banquet, there was a dance, so part of our Physical Education curriculum that semester was to learn dances through the ages. We learned line dances, square dances, the waltz, the polka (which was basically holding hands and running amok) and several promenade in a circle while hop-step-stepping dances.

So in PE class, we had to learn all of these dances. Our PE teacher (Pam), who you really have to know for this story to be funny, told the girls that if there was a boy we wanted to dance with, to tell her, and she'd pair us up in an "inconspicuous way."

Well, I had a huge, enormous, MASSIVE crush on a certain boy whom we'll just call M. And there the story begins.

So one day we're in gym, and it's a ballroom dance day. The boys' PE teacher and Pam would pair us up in different ways every day, ranging from "find someone with the same color shirt as you" to "stand alphabetically on this line and just pair up in order." However, there were more girls than boys in my particular PE class, so the smart girls figured out that getting at the end of the line meant that you later got to cut in on whichever couple you wanted to.

Well, I had given Pam the signal that I wanted to dance with M. We all head into the gym, where we are told to stand in two lines.

"Okay, here we go!" she yelled. "You," (boy at the front of the line) "and you" (girl at the front of the line); "You," (boy) "and you" (girl). She did this for about 30 seconds until my crush was at the front of the boys' line.

I don't know if she hated me or what. She was also our cheerleading coach and had been nice to me thus far, so why her goal that day was to embarrass me more than I had ever been embarrassed in my 13 years on earth, I'm not sure.

"You," (points to my crush, a bell [demon?] goes off inside her head) "and LEEENDSAY!!!! WHAR'S LEEENDSAY? LEEENDSAY? LEENDS- okay you two. And now you, and you; you and you..."

Inconspicuous my ass. I wanted to die. In one swift move, Pam had made it clear to M - and the rest of our class - that I had a crush on him (I am 90% sure M knew anyway), and in case the braces, greasy bangs and general awkwardness weren't already doing a fine job of turning him off, Pam's little stunt sealed the deal.

So there I was, totally humiliated but "dancing" with my crush. It was the closest I'd ever been to him. We had only done like two dances, the boring ones that involved basically looking at each other while moving your feet around (aka NO HOLDING HANDS) when Pam yelled for the girls to rotate.

Well of COURSE the prettiest girl in our class, the ballerina with hair like spun silk, floats over to us to rotate in. Apparently I was not the only one with a crush on M. I wanted to punch her cold. As if I hadn't suffered enough that day, now I don't even get to enjoy the fruits of my suffering all the way until the end of class?! It was an absolute crime.

Needless to say, M and I never "went out," and that was the last time I ever spoke to my PE teacher.

Hop, step step... You wouldn't want to dance with this either!

Monday, April 23, 2007


Dear Crimson Tide Fans,

Congrats on your win! So what if you were playing yourselves, a W is still a W! The National Championship is as good as yours!


Dear Co-worker,

I hope you washed that shirt after you wore it on Thursday before you put it on today.


Dear People Who Have Pointed Out My Sunburn,



Sunday, April 22, 2007


Saw this one on the blog of one of my favorite authors . She created it as a tool to develop characters in her books, but ended up filling in all the answers with her own opinions. I thought I would follow suit, but of course I am too verbose (opinionated?) to limit my answers to one.

* * *

I'M AMAZED… how differently my life has turned out than how I imagined it would. Not bad, just differently.

...that I will ever take a job where I can't freely wear blue jeans.

...the trees for the forest (regarding my latest goal).
...well at all. Seriously. Worst eyesight of anyone you know.

...ummm he has a mustache, let's just leave it at that.

...for honestly wanting to beat someone with a sockfull of quarters.

I'M ADDICTED… coffee in the morning.

...bad shows on MTV and VH1 and thank Jesus for my upbringing.
...the Friends finale and cry every time.

I LISTEN… music every chance I get. Nelly Furtado and think I am the best dancer there is.

...I would buy better gifts.
...I would buy a nicer car.
...I would help people.
...I would visit Italy.
...I would create a scholarship.

...a million dollars. Ha.


...with my trip to L.A., American Idol and seersucker (for today at least.)

...should be forbidden from riding Heeleys in public.
...will be the scariest yet most exciting task I will ever take on.

...for my trip to L.A. (told you I was obsessed!)
...for football season!

...of what I accomplished in college.

...of one day not having to work full-time!

...mascara, pearls, Chanel Chance and underwear (I'm talking to you, Britney Spears).

...that this may be as good as it gets.

...I had put on some sunscreen yesterday.
...that I liked sushi.

...jumped INTO a diving board (the corner of it, to be exact) and instantly got an enormous goose egg on my eye (my right eyelid/browbone hit the diving board). It was so huge I couldn't even open my eye. And when we got to the emergency room, they had to sedate my mom because she was so freaked out. Thunder stealer.

...will grow tired of cheese, chocolate or Friends.

...have Britney Spears' legs (pre-Federline).

...high school.
...close friends.
...being tan and skinny.

I'M LOATHE TO ADMIT… messed up and broken I really am.

...Planters for eliminating Cheez-balls from the world.

Saturday, April 21, 2007


Dear Overweight Man Skipping Through the Y in a Wet Speedo, With a Towel Around His Shoulders,

You're sorta missing the point of that towel.


Thursday, April 19, 2007


I will admit it when I am wrong.

This time, not only will I admit it, I will shout it. I will exclaim it. I will rent an airplane to fly a banner across the sky (not really; too expensive).

But I was wrong and I am so glad I was. I predicted Phil would be leaving us last night. I also predicted Lakisha and Chris (I'M SO SORRY FOR DOUBTING YOU, BABY) would be in the Bottom 3.

Boy, was I wrong. AND BOY, AM I GLAD!

Sayonara, Sanjaya! Don't let the talent of the other contestants hit you on the way out!

Wednesday, April 18, 2007


***Click here to buy seersucker croakies!***

Why can't everything be seersucker?


If every article of clothing I owned was seersucker, I'd be okay with that. Seersucker... and monogrammed!

I don't know why I love it. Maybe because of how comfortable it is. Maybe because of how classy and southern it is.

Do you remember how old you were when you got your first piece of seersucker? I was a junior in college. How I made it that long without any seersucker, I cannot say.

But what I CAN say is that I would wear it everyday if I could. They should make more seersucker stuff. Maybe I will start selling seersucker products, like

seersucker underwear
seersucker blankets
seersucker key-chains
seersucker croakies
seersucker koozies
seersucker slippers
seersucker shower curtains
seersucker running shorts

If/when I get married, it may be in a white seersucker dress. Or perhaps I will wear a normal dress and my attendants will wear seersucker. Or maybe the groomsmen will. Someone is going to wear it; make no mistake about that.

In fact, I may investigate the closet of any potential husband just to verify he has enough seersucker clothing to meet my approval. He will need one seersucker suit and one seersucker bow-tie, at least (not to be worn together, of course).

Additionally, there is a good chance that my future offspring will be ridiculed by their peers for the vast amount of seersucker in which their mother will outfit them. Boy or girl, there will be plenty of seersucker in my beautiful children's closets, so that in the off chance they grow up without an accent, God-forbid, there will still be no room to doubt that they are southern born and bred.

But I digress. The point is that the seersucker clothes that I own will soon be making their 2007 debut. It is appropriate to wear seersucker after Easter, but if your city is still 30° on Easter, then what's fashionably appropriate takes a backseat to what is weather-appropriate.

But it is starting to warm up, so you know what that means: everyone join me and bust out your seersucker! (But if you don't have any, don't tell me about it because I will probably judge you. I'm just saying.)

Seersucker. It's the new rehab!

****Update: Jennifer just sent me the link to this. I can't decide if I should cry, or buy a dozen!

****Target is on board!

Tuesday, April 17, 2007


Sooooooo funny!
If this doesn't stream fast enough, click here (but the quality won't be as good).


So, did everyone get his or her taxes done?

What are you doing to do with your return? Mine is going into my furniture fund. Oh, you don't get a return? Hmm. Guess you didn't have an accountant do your taxes for free (shout out to Wilretta and Star).

Sucks for you!

Honesty, accountants could rule the world if they wanted to. If they went on strike, and left the rest of us to... add... they could get whatever they wanted. If I were an accountant, I would be negotiating for a bigger office or something (ha, I'm doing that anyway).

But you get the point. All the accountants in the world could team up and make everyone give them $1 from their tax returns for a big, accountants-only cruise around the world, and wouldn't you give it to them? They deserve it. Heck, I'd give 'em $5 just to keep them happy. Because if the accountants are happy, we're all happy.

Have you hugged an accountant today?

Sunday, April 15, 2007


Have you every had to make yourself cry? Guys will not understand this. Girls will.

I have not had a good cry in a long time. I had to force it out last night. The Friends finale always does the trick. I am not a pretty crier.

Nothing is really wrong, but there are several little nagging issues biting at my heels that will not go away.

In short, L.A. cannot get here fast enough.

Wednesday, April 11, 2007


I predicted the bottom 3 would be Phil, Haley and Sanjaya. Wishful thinking, I guess, but the important part I got right. Haley went home.

Cheer up, Haley. I hear they're already auditioning for The Next Pussycat Doll! You're a shoe-in!

PS - Wes, vouch for my wisdom.


I don't consider myself a person with a lot of regrets. I think I've been fortunate, and though I've endured some difficult circumstances, none of them were a result of anything I did so I can't really chalk them up as my regrets.

But recently someone asked me what my biggest regret is, and it got me thinking. What I'm about to divulge is not only my biggest regret, but also the biggest example of irony in my life to date. I don't talk about it a lot, because it makes me really angry at myself and I try to stay on my good side.

Here we go. My biggest regret.

In June 1997, during the summer break before my freshman year of high school, my family and I went on vacation to Los Angeles. My dad had won a week's stay at a condo in Santa Monica, and we had frequent flyer miles to go for free, so away we went. I was pretty excited, even though I had sprained my ankle very badly two weeks before the vacation (which ended up working out in my favor, because we rented a wheelchair for me at Universal Studios and got to cut all the lines).

On this trip, I had more than $200 cash stolen from my purse (graduation money, Easter money, Christmas money, etc.), we met Jay Leno on the street and enjoyed doing a bunch of touristy stuff, including Walt Disney Land (where the power went off for a few hours), Universal Studios... and the Warner Bros. Studios tour.

"Neat-o, a tour of a real studio," I thought to myself, even though the only Warner Bros. show I knew of was Animaniacs. I certainly knew who George Clooney was, though, so I kept my eyes peeled.

We got there, waited around and rode on a tram. We passed the sound stages for some shows I had heard of, like Family Matters, but a lot of it over my head. My mom was super excited about being on the ER set. We stood in the operating room and saw a fake body used in the operation scenes and walked down the hallway by the nurse's station.

And then...

We went on the set of Friends.

Yes, that's right, I stood on the set of the show that more or less changed my life. The show from where I learned to be funny. The show that, for a few years, was the one constant in my life that I could look forward to, that got me through the week and if that sounds ridiculous, then bite me.


I couldn't even name the six main characters. I remember this, because the tour guide asked if anyone could, and not only could I not name the characters, I couldn't even tell you what show's set we were standing on until she told us where we were.

I don't remember a lot. We got to walk around for a bit, but I can't remember if we were allowed to walk on the actual stage or not, with the apartments and The Orange Couch, because I didn't.

I do remember that some of the furniture from the boy's apartment was in Monica and Rachel's apartment, because they'd just finished the season that ended at the beach (season 3), and Joey's apartment had been used as the beach house they were all staying in. There was still sand on the floor. You could also see the tape on the floor in Monica and Rachel's apartment, marking off where the actors and actresses stood for camera blocking.

Monica and Rachel's apartment shared a wall with the coffee house. I remember seeing The Orange Couch. I walked over to the side of Central Perk, near the door and stood on that street for a while. I remember that the "pavement" didn't feel like pavement at all, but other than that, the street looked real.

And then we left.

So that year, I entered high school full of hopes and dreams, and somewhere near the end of the year (the season finale, I think) I happened to be sitting in our beanbag chair on a Thursday night at 7 p.m.

"Hey, here's that Friends show we went to," I thought. "I think I'll watch it."

So I did. And I was hooked. Ross said Rachel instead of Emily! What would happen?

For the next six years, I begged my dad to arrange for me to go back. "Dad - it'd be like you playing at Augusta National! It's my Masters! Please!" Well of course that didn't work out. As the show gained popularity, tickets became next to impossible to get.

So what do I regret most out of my 23 years on this earth?

I wish I had paid her more attention. I can only imagine what that tour guide said about the show. I might could have sat on The Orange Couch, or sat at Monica's kitchen table. But I didn't. And I never will.

I was led to the river and I did not drink. This is my biggest regret.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007


Four hours.

Last Thursday, Vince Gill played for four consecutive hours.

At 9:45 p.m. people started getting up. Not because the show was over, no no no. Because it was intermission! At 9:45 p.m!

What could I do in four hours? I could take a long nap. I could watch two movies. I could clean my house and yours. I could drive from Nashville to Atlanta.

And moreover, who would I rather have heard play for four hours? Let's see... Well, for starters, there's ANYONE not named Vince Gill.

I guess we got a bargain. If you divided it out to dollar per minute, this concert was a steal. And it was at the Ryman, for crying out loud. Anyone sounds good in the Ryman.

He had 15 musicians backing him up. There were six guitars playing. Two keyboardists. Three percussionists. It was a musically delightful show. But then you looked to the center of the stage... and there was Vince Gill.

Thank goodness the Ryman sells adult beverages. If not for that glass of Merlot, I am sure I would have acted out. The only way to enjoy Vince Gill - and I am using the word "enjoy" VERY loosely - is with a glass of wine in your hand and your mother by your side having the time of her life (at least someone was).

Four hours. It wasn't a contest, Vince. As far as I know, you weren't participating in any sort of record-breaking dare. Why did you play for four hours? The concert was billed An Evening With Vince Gill - you weren't kidding! That took up my whole night!

I get tired all over again just thinking about it.

Sunday, April 08, 2007


My (first) senior year of college, I was in a journalism class. One of our assignments was to interview someone whose job we'd like to have. After unsuccessfully trying to interview a Rockette, a friend gave me the name and number of singer/songwriter in Nashville. "He's really good," she promised. "He doesn't have a deal yet, but he will one day."

Three years went by before I heard the name Luke Bryan again. Last weekend, I was flipping the channels and saw the lead-in for his video, "All My Friends Say." I about fell off the couch. Luke finally made it. Here is the story I wrote about him in 2004 (try to excuse the poor writing, as I wrote this at 1 a.m. the night before it was due, and focus on the subject of the story):
Call it ironic. An upcoming musician, on the brink of signing a record deal, and all Luke Bryan wants tonight is one working flip-flop. According to him, his shoe "blew out." But this late at night, Nashville says no. Finding his luck has run out and he is nowhere near another pair of flip flops, a roll of Duct Tape, or even a stapler, Bryan seizes the opportunity that lies within a bottle of super glue, and hastily applies it to his shoe.

Bryan, 28, laughs heartily as he holds the flip-flop out of the window of his car, trying to let the glue air dry before he arrives at his destination. Now that his problem is solved, he is able to focus on our conversation, but not without a gentleman’s apology for the delay.

His accent is so thick, one would think Bryan had lived in the County Music Capital of the World his entire life. Bryan moved to Nashville in 1996, only 20 years old, after dropping out of a junior college in south Georgia. However, his brother’s death in a car wreck brought Bryan back home for six years. In that time, Bryan attended Georgia Southern University, where he claims he got his four-year degree in “business management and drinking beer.” On Sept. 1, 2001, Bryan moved to Nashville again, this time to stay.

One of his first friends in Nashville was another emerging artist named Rachel Proctor. She introduced him to Roger Murrah, president of Murrah Music Corporation and one of the most respected men in the industry, who hired Bryan as a staff songwriter for his company.

While working for Murrah, Bryan found success with his first publishing deal. His songs have been recorded by famous artists, from the band Ricochet (“Feel Like Fallin’”) and Travis Tritt (“My Honky-tonk History”). Bryan knows he’s fortunate though, since in this competitive industry, it takes most people years to get published or discovered. “Make it your passion,” Bryan says. “You gotta work hard and not give up. It’s tough to tell people how to write a song, but if you work, you get better.”

Midway through our conversation, Bryan lets out a yelp—the lady in the vehicle beside him has taken off her shoe and is dangling it out the window, imitating Bryan. “She probably thinks I have some kind of a shoe fetish,” Bryan groans. Clearly, his success hasn’t gone to his head.

Work for Bryan consists of going in around 10 a.m., and writing music until 4 p.m. when he heads home to his apartment in Franklin. “Sometimes, some guys will come over and we’ll write at night. I get my ideas through out the week, and I just go in and write. Some people have these weird things they do to get inspired,” says Bryan with a laugh, “but I just get an idea and write it.” Depending on the idea, the process can take anywhere from 100 hours to 20 minutes.

Bryan’s favorite thing to write about is his small-town upbringing. From Leesburg, Ga., his favorite song that he’s written to date is called “We Rode in Trucks” and is about his childhood. “We all just played together and rode in trucks,” Bryan chuckles. “It’s important to write about what’s going on in your life, and not be fake, so I tend to write about what I’m experiencing or have gone through.” Bryan claims his childhood is also where he received his musical experience. The youngest of three, Bryan says he’s had no professional experience, but played the piano and guitar in church and in local bands.

While Bryan enjoys his job, his true ambition is to be a recording artist, something he sees as “on the horizon.” He hopes to play on the Grand Ol’ Opry, win a Country Music Award or two, and have George Strait cut one of his songs, but for now, says Bryan, “I could leave tomorrow and all my expectations would’ve been met.” Coming from a guy with one shoe, that sounds like true success.
Nice guy! Hope he got some new shoes along with that record deal.


I can't sew. I can't iron. I can't cook too well. But look at what I can do!

Hope you had a good Easter, too!

Thursday, April 05, 2007


Took this online and was very surprised. I even took it twice, giving different answers for some questions, and got the same result both times.

"You're Meredith - you don't always make the right choices, but you get points for trying, bouncing right back and starting over. For being so "dark and twisty," you have a surprisingly sunny outlook on life. You're quick to jump into new relationships but just as quick to jump out. After the example your parents set, learning to trust someone else takes just about everything you've got."

I didn't think I'd be Meredith, but that description (last line especially) is pretty accurate. Just one question - If I'm Meredith, where the hell is my McDreamy?

Wednesday, April 04, 2007


Bottom 3


going home - Phil

Monday, April 02, 2007


Dear Hilary Duff,

Dignity? Available K-mart? Really?



Ahhhh springtime. I took full advantage of the gorgeous weather this weekend and did some yard work.

Of course, by "yard" I mean the dirt/grass behind my condo, and by "work" I mean lounging in my new chair, talking to JB and reading People magazine.

My new chair is a great investment. I went to 4 places before I found the one I wanted. Fold-up chairs are a dime a dozen - get one in any color of the rainbow, with any football logo or Nascar number on the back. The real trick is finding a fold-up chair with a cupholder and a footrest. These gems are few and far between. There were also other factors I had to take into consideration like cost and overall loungability - this isn't a chair for tailgates, I want to be able to lean back in it and get some sun.

Finally, I found the chair I wanted and fled the store for the peace and quiet of my backyard. It was awesome. Money can't buy happiness, but it can buy a chair in which to sit in and be happy. Come sit with me!

I also watched Animal House 2.5 times. Too bad my chair does not come with a DVD player, because that count would have been 3.5 times at least.

Speaking of Animal House, I almost went to the Real World auditions being held downtown on Saturday. How great a blog would that have been? I would have loved to have met some of the people trying out for that show. Someone normal from Nashville needs to get on there and prove that we're not all certifiably crazy like Brooke.

Finally, I hope you all had a great April Fool's Day, and that your mother didn't try to trick you by calling you "from the Denver emergency room" because she "broke her leg skiing." After my intial gasp at hearing her "crying," I realized she was trying to fool me because if that were true, she'd have called at least 6 times in a row instead of just once. Nice try!

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