Monday, March 31, 2008


Last night I was told that I have a very "expressive face." I guess this means that I talk with my face, similar to how someone talks with his or her hands.

It was a lovely compliment to receive, because it reminded me of someone else I know that had a very expressive face:

I don't even remember how my fascination of John Belushi began. I think it was late 2006 when I rented this book from my library about Saturday Night Live. Then I watched Animal House. Then I read his widow's second book, and just last week finished her first book and the taboo and controversial Woodward biography.

Not his most famous sketch, but watch this clip - it gets good in the middle when "Coach" Belushi warms them up with eyebrow exercises and commands them to "mug for the camera! mug for the camera!"

Yes, my obsessions may be random, but they are deep. For instance, have I mentioned that I like the show Friends?

Saturday, March 29, 2008


Today was A-day in Auburn - the annual spring scrimmage game. Which got me thinking...

153 days until Auburn Football!

Living in Tennessee, it's hard to get to the games, but the ones I have been to have been awesome: 2006 LSU and FL, and 2007 Iron Bowl. All big games, all big victories! I am a good luck charm. Here are some of my favorite football memories!

2006 AU v LSU

2006 AU v FL

2007 Iron Bowl

PS - I'm opening the bidding for a free place to stay for the 2008 Auburn v. Vanderbilt game...

Friday, March 28, 2008


1. The new Madonna/JT song is awesome. "4 minutes." Download it if you haven't already.

2. Idol scores: I'm in the lead with 9, Wes is second with 8 and David is last with 7.

3. Anne Heaton turned eight yesterday. Eight!!! I always tell her to stop growing up and offer her deals - which she never takes - if she'll stay little ("I'll give you $20 if you stay seven." "I'll buy you ice cream every day if you stay six.") So yesterday I called her and said "Happy fourth birthday!" "I'm not four; I'm eight." "You're four! You're gonna stay little, remember?" "I"m eiiiiiiiight. I'm eight. I'meightI'meightI'meight!" It seems like just last week we were all at St. Vincent's, waiting for her to be born. The grandmothers had gotten antsy and started walking laps around the hospital. After we found out she'd arrived, we saw them coming around the corner and yelled "She's here!!!!" and they started sprinting, which was hilarious, especially because then we had to wait to be able to see her. She was perfect and tiny and has grown - against my will - into the cutest, smartest little girl in the world. She's one of the people I miss in Birmingham the most.

4. A funny blog you should check out - Tessie, who is Messing With Texas and living to blog about it.

5. I am so glad I don't have a bracket.


Last night I was enjoying a quiet evening at home when I got a call from my sister. As soon as I picked up, I heard my mother's voice, so I knew they were up to something if it required a three-way call.

I could hear giggling. "Lindsay," my sister said, "I had to be on the line to hear your reaction to this story."

I could barely hear her over the coughing and hacking that was coming from my mother. "Okay - what did you drink?" I asked.

"It's not what I drank... it's what I ate."

My mind began racing. "Old food from the refrigerator? That was bound to happen sooner or later. Stale candy? There's no telling what she got into," I thought.

Let me just tell you - my mom has done some crazy, funny, wacky things, but NOTHING she's done can top this story. I wish she could call each of you to tell you herself, but I will try to do her story justice with my words and some photos.

Oompa Linda has always had trouble with fake flowers. A few years ago, an arrangement she had on the kitchen table caught on fire while I had some friends at the house. That was embarrassing. She also has a fake spray on the front door, which birds have been known to inhabit and make a nest in, like this:

The birds, while cute, always end up knocking the flowers off the door. She has tried everything to keep them out, from pouring a whole jar of cayenne pepper in the flower arrangement to sticking knives and forks (pointy side up) into the flowers, so it would - and I quote - "scratch their bottoms and keep them away."

Well Wednesday she noticed the flowers were about to fall off the door again so she brought them inside so she could fix the wire which holds them in place. She repaired the basket yesterday afternoon, hung the fake flowers on the door and went about her business, which included tidying up the kitchen.

Stay with me.

Now, you'll remember Sunday was Easter. Some kind soul gave my mom a bag of Whoppers Robin Eggs, those bespeckled, chocolate coated candies that look - BUT TASTE NOTHING LIKE - tiny bird eggs:

So, as I mentioned, Mom was tidying up her kitchen when she spied one of the tasty candies on the counter. Yum! She popped it in her mouth.


Something filled her mouth and it wasn't chocolate. She spit slimy, oozy yolk into her hand, then ran to the sink. She spat and rinsed and spat and rinsed and spat and rinsed some more.

She ate a real bird's egg, y'all. My mother, the egg eater. I was howling laughing. I thought I was going to choke. We asked her what if the bird had been almost mature, ready to hatch? Did she feel a beak? Did she accidentally swallow any yolk?

Before we all hung up, she asked us for advice on how she should get rid of the birds? I told her eating their babies was probably a good start.

Thursday, March 27, 2008


Dear Further Proof That ABC Is Intentionally Letting The Bachelor Go To Waste,

Six Words: Open Casting Call in Montgomery, Alabama.


Dear Grown Man In a BMW Whom I Passed On Music Row Yesterday,

Your shiny new car would be a lot flashier and more impressive if you weren't picking your nose and eating its contents while driving it.



File this one under Things You Didn't Know About Me:

For years, I was scared to blow my nose.

You see, when I was growing up, I had recurring ear problems. Two rounds of tubes didn't fix them and nary a year passed without me spoiling a holiday with a major, scream-inducing ear ache. It's painful just to type about it. I had to wear the dinner plate sized ear plugs during the summers and everything.

Anyway, things really crescendoed the summer before sixth grade. We were at the lake, hanging on to the innertube with all our might while my dad sped all over the water, trying his hardest to flip us. Eventually, he succeeded, and after I flew through the air, my head/ear landed perfectly flat on the water. The impact knocked my earring out of my ear. Later, back at the dock, we were swimming around and I realized that I couldn't stay underwater without the sensation that water, very cold water, was seeping into my head. I thought I just kept swimming into cold spots, but no one else was feeling them, and it was starting to hurt something fierce, so I got out and called it a day.

My mom took me to the doctor after I reported some pain in the next few weeks, and turns out, I had completely shattered my ear drum. Busted it wide open. Which meant one thing.*

I reported for surgery a few weeks before school started. Dr. Baldwin made a C-shaped incision behind my left ear, took some tissue from there, and then stretched it over my ear drum to repair it. It was an outpatient surgery. I remember coming out from under the anesthesia and my dad trying to get me to sit up too quickly, a decision he no doubt regretted as I promptly threw up all over his pants and shoes.

I left the hospital with a dome taped over my left ear (shut up, it was only for the first night). We took the dome off the next day and I was horrified to see they had shaved 2-3" inches of hair around my ear. WTF!? How was I going to start sixth grade with a half-shaved (okay, barely shaved) head? Our solution, once I finally was able to wash my head and leave the house, was that I pulled all the hair to the right of my part back in a bow, and left all the hair to the left of my part down, covering my ear and my funky haircut (if I had pictures, I'd post them).

Anyway, also included in our instructions were that I had to sleep on my right side for six weeks (why I still have to sleep on my right side today, in case anyone was wondering), I couldn't run or play or lift heavy objects for six weeks (effectively dashing my dream of becoming a professional body builder; settled for a new cat, Milo, instead) and most importantly - I couldn't blow my nose for six weeks, lest I bust the ear drum again.

Only, I ended up not blowing my nose for more like six years. I don't know how I got around it, how that logistically worked out, but I'm sure it's gross and we covered gross yesterday so let's not go there again. The point is - I was in college before I really would go for the gold in terms of blowing my nose. I would sniff into tissues, but it wasn't until college that I learned the true art - and satisfaction - of clearing one's nasal passages, with the gusto of a gale force wind, into an unsuspecting kleenex. One of my roommates suffered from allergies and was therefore arguably a professional nose blower, leaving a trail of pink tissues all over our suite. So I guess you could say I learned from the best.

So what's my point? Lately, since I have been dealing with a head cold, I am just really grateful that I got over that phobia. Blowing your nose is one of the quickest, albeit temporary, reliefs there is and I have been doing it almost every ten minutes. Anna, you'd be so proud.

*Actually, it meant two things. Surgery, but better yet, a year full of McDonald's ice cream sundaes from the McDonald's next to my doctor's office, since I had lots of post-op follow up appointments and my mom is a sucker for their soft-serve cones.

Wednesday, March 26, 2008


Couldn't let the day pass without noting that today marks only ONE MONTH until the half marathon!!! Woohoo!

And I received an e-mail confirmation yesterday, informing me that I am officially registered and all of that, so there's no turning back now!

Hooray! Can you tell I am ready for it to be here?


Last night I did something I have been meaning to do for quite some time: I washed my make-up brushes.

Girls, how often do you do this? Not how often are we supposed to do it, or how often you'd like to say you do it, but how often do you actually whip out your travel-size bottle of Johnson & Johnson Baby Shampoo and wash your brushes?

Not often enough, that's my answer, as revealed to me like colors of the rainbow last night.

First up was my concealer brush. A year's worth of Bisque puddled into my palm and turned the water in my sink a muddy peach color. Delicious. Next up was the eyeliner brush. Navy revealed brown which revealed a maroony purple buried way deep into the bristles. It was like watching a magic show, and the grand finale was me discovering the eyeliner brush's previously black bristles are actually white! All this time! Who knew?!

The eyeshadow brush was not that exciting, but the blush brush was. It looked like someone had been stabbed while painting a watercolor picture at my sink. I did my powder brush last, bidding goodbye to Light, Warmth and germs, all mixed into another muddy paint-like liquid.

To anyone whom I haven't grossed out entirely and is still reading this and happens to own make-up brushes, WASH THEM. The fluffy, clean feeling you get when using them again the next morning is so worth it. My brushes actually looked smaller this morning because there was no crap built up in them.

Yes, I realize I am incriminating myself here by revealing my own filth/shortcomings, but if one life face is affected by my story, then I have made a difference and therefore, succeeded! Wash your brushes! If not for yourself, then do it for me!

Tuesday, March 25, 2008


Last night my roommate and I were waiting for the Bachelor to come on when we discovered one of our closet favorite movies playing over on the Oxygen channel.

Can you guess what it was?

This movie, when it came out, made me want to graduate high school, move to NYC and learn to dance.

Not Center Stage.
Not Save the Last Dance for Me.

Coyote Ugly.

Do you remember how bad you wanted to see this movie when it came out? And even more, how bad you wanted to be a Coyote after you saw it? If you answered no, watch the trailer and tell me that it didn't change your mind.

I was in high school. I went with some friends and by the end of the film, every one of us was just a pair of cowboy boots away from climbing on a bar and stomping our troubles away in time to the "Devil Went Down to Georgia." I blame Tyra. Forget the incredible money they supposedly made: I was attracted to the attitude, the appeal, the sexiness of it all.

I guess I have my chance now that the bar is a chain and I live a mere few miles from one, but one trip in there with my mother and sister in the summer of 2005 was plenty for me. It's too commercial, less exciting and somehow, a lot trashier. There's absolutely no appeal anymore.

Regardless, don't act like you didn't like that movie!

Monday, March 24, 2008


What a big night for TV!

First, we have the Bachelor. As I wrote last week, this show has gone completely to the dogs and we all should tune in to see which girl chews a can/passes out panties/makes a mockery of herself this week. I can't wait.

BUT! Before you turn it to ABC, tune in to CBS and watch How I Met Your Mother. There is a very special guest! No, not that Britney chick, but the one and only Eric! That's right, everyone's favorite Clay Aiken doppleganger and engineer/actor - whose album is dropping any day now - is an extra in the same episode that Britney is on. Watch for Eric in the bar scene. And no, he didn't meet Britney.

Also watch for him in a few weeks when he's on.... wait for it, wait for it..... THE OFFICE. Yes, that S.O.B. will be an extra in an episode to be aired later this spring. Look for him in a bar when Michael, Dwight and Ryan go clubbing. All these bar scenes! Hmmm. Eric, are you going Lohan on us?

And of course, tomorrow night is American Idol. Wes and I are still tied for the lead but only because I haven't gone back and awarded half-points for predicting the bottom three.

PS - And promote it all you want, MTV, but there's still at least one viewer out there that will NOT be watching The Hills tonight.

I knew him back when....


My favorite Easter basket ever! Anne Heaton, a week or two old in 2000.

So how was everyone's Easter Sunday? Earlier this year, my sister and brother-in-law invited all of us to come to DC for Easter, an offer that I hated to turn down. In hindsight, I am glad that I ended up staying here since I was feeling sick and had been traveling for work for two weeks straight.

Therefore, thanks to that exhaustion, I became quite a little old lady this weekend. As in, reading in bed at 9:30 on Saturday, lights out and asleep by 10:15. But I also had been up since 6 without a nap (and had run 9.5 miles, thankyouverymuch) so I didn't feel too guilty about being a grandma.

Because my family was in DC, my sweet friend Meghan invited me to spend the afternoon with her family. We had delicious food and especially amazing brownies... ha. Guess who brought those?

And lastly, speaking of sweet friends: I met my fundraising goal. More accurately, you guys met my goal. People on my team have asked me how I was able to do my fundraising without writing letters, having a bunch of benefits and events, etc. I know you guys didn't sign up to be my primary audience for the campaign. But your support, generosity, encouraging words and e-mails and overall interest in my goal means so much to me. More than half of the money raised came from people that read this blog, and to those people - thank you, thank you, thank you.

So I am happy to announce that I am removing the "donate now" button on the left, but if you want to still visit my campaign page, just click here.

Sunday, March 23, 2008


Happy Easter everyone.

I think it's moments like this that Junior was referring to when he said if Heaven ain't a lot like Dixie and if they don't have a Grand Ole Opry then I don't want to go. If angels sing as good as Carrie, then sign me up.

Saturday, March 22, 2008


Today was the hardest run yet! Like I wrote yesterday, I have been slacking this week due to travel, a head cold, etc. I definitely reaped what I sowed today.

The weather was nice, pretty windy but nice enough to leave the leggings and long sleeves at home. I was basically still in the parking lot when I swtiched on my iPod, which wouldn't turn on. Dead battery. Then on my way to take it back to my car, I stepped in dog poop. So the run literally was off to a shitty start.

The particular trail we were running on is hilly. Lots of little tiny hills along the way and three very scary big hills. My running buddy, bless his heart, knew it was going to be a long morning with me when I was ready to go home halfway up the first hill.

I'll spare you the details but I almost cried after the last hill because I was so exhausted. I waited until I was 3 miles from finished before I took my Accel Gel, which may have been a mistake. I walked more than I should have but I was so burnt out. A month ago, I ran 8.2 with hardly any problems. Why was that so much easier mentally than 9.5?

So it was a rough morning but thanks to encouraging teammates and a great running partner, I did it. I was definitely outperformed, but I never claimed to be Steve Prefontaine. Time is not my first priority. Finishing is. But with almost one month til the half, I must, must, must stick to my training schedule if I want to do even that.

On a happier note, I was giddy last week to reach my fundraising minimum. And now, I am just $150 shy of my fundraising goal. So if the Easter Bunny brings you any cash, I know a good place to spend it. I decided I'm ceasing all talk of donations after March 26 - one month until the half - so you only have to hear me nag for four more days!

Friday, March 21, 2008


Dear Reader That Just Spent Two Hours Reading My Blog,

Yeah, I get bored on Friday afternoons too.



1. How hilarious was the Gauntlet finale? Out of almost 20 challenges, the rookies lost all but maybe 4, but then won the final challenge - the one where the winning team splits $300,000 - ONLY because the vets got disqualified! Brilliant. Those veterans were so mad they couldn't see straight, and rightfully so. One lone team member cost the rest of them $30k a piece, so I'd be ready to start a fight too. But it was still funny. I thought Ev was going to go drown herself in the ocean.

2. I'm putting in vacation days for April and May today! I'm taking a sanity day on 4/11, taking 4/25 and 4/28 (and maybe a half day on 4/24) off to prep for and recover from the half (and my visitors!), and 5/5 off because what? huh? what? why? OH YEAH - I'm going to see KANYE the night before! Our tickets came in the mail and I am pretty stoked. And RENT is coming here in a week but that doesn't require any vacation days.

3. Speaking of the half, tomorrow I do my second longest run before the half (the longest will be on 4/12). I'm really nervous about it, more so than I was about the last few long runs, because I've been sick this week which means I'm a little dehydrated from all the antihistamines and therefore I haven't been running as much as the schedule says. So 10.5-11 seems extra intimidating. Say a prayer!

4. Three months until my birthday, woo hoo!

5. While I was out of town this week, I watched Will and Grace on Lifetime each night before bed. I forget how funny that show is. Maybe instead of airing this crap, networks should bring back the sitcoms we all love.

I'm back in town for good, so we will now return to regularly scheduled blogging. Get excited. Hope you missed me!

Tuesday, March 18, 2008


I accidentally watched the Bachelor last night. By "accidentally", I mean that is was not on my list of things to do, but I am SO glad I did.

Y'all - WHAT IN THE HECK has this show come to? Flutes? Guitars? Fuzzy dice? Tin cans? PANTIES?

Remember when the Bachelor was good? Back when 20 people crowded into one dorm room to see who Andrew Firestone was sending home? What happened? Where did ABC go wrong? ...And why did Firestone never call me?

So this Bachelor is British (something new), and the women are crazy (nothing new). Where should I start?

There's Stacey, the token girl who get so hammered the first night that producers wheel a mattress into the bathroom for her to pass out on, but only after she tells the Bachelor and another girl that they were "seriously boring her" with a conversation about London (once again - where the Bachelor is from) AND manages to force her panties into the pocket of the poor, unwitting Bachelor. Let's just hope they were a spare pair, because that is Disgusting with a capital D. Obviously, Stacey didn't get a rose. Is it bad that I was sad to see her go?

Then we have Carri, the church marketing representative who whips out a soda can, chomps into it like a dog on a bone and tears off a piece for the Bachelor to keep. I don't understand and immediately started asking questions: Where did she get the can? How did she learn to do this? Is this a church camp trick? What was he supposed to do with a quarter-sized piece of scrap metal? At least give him the whole can so he can recycle it. And oh yes - WHY did she think this would be attractive?!?!? Watch me chew on a can! Watch me bury this bone! Watch me fetch this toy!

Then there's the law student from Vegas. I'm sorry - what? That's like saying I'm a law student from Cancun. No one goes to Vegas to study law; you go to Vegas to break the law.

And when did the Bachelor become American Idol? The women, in an effort to win the First Impression Rose, pack all sort of equipment with which to impress the Bachelor on the first night. Someone played the guitar! Someone brought her flute! There was arm wrestling. We had Rock Paper Scissors. And I already told you about the girl with the can. Look - this is not America's Got Talent! There's a time and a place for guitars and flutes (but not for can chewing) and it's NOT the first night with the Bachelor.

Clearly I have never been on the show, but I would think that if you wanted to make a good impression on the Bachelor (or any human for that matter) I would start with:

a) NOT getting knock-down drunk on your first date;
b) being poised, demure, well-spoken and interested (aka - don't tell him conversations about his hometown are "seriously boring");
c) NOT demasculating him by challenging him to - and then beating him in - an arm-wrestling competition, Rock Paper Scissors competition or any other kind of stupid human trick or display of strength for which you may have won a prize, title or be "sort of a champion" in;
d) NOT pointing out that the ring on your finger is merely a "placeholder" for the ring you'll get from him one day;

and as I mentioned

e) NOT shoving your panties into his pants pocket while he is talking to another woman ESPECIALLY if you are so drunk it takes you three tries to find his pants pocket.

And yes, all of those took place last night.

My point? The Bachelor as a show and the Bachelorettes as a whole are OUT OF CONTROL. It's literally time for last call for this show. It's like a white Flavor of Love now except the Bachelor has less children and more class than Flavor. But you see what I mean? We I watch Flavor of Love for the cringe factor and that is why I will watch the Bachelor. Even though Panties (her name was Stacey) has gone home, I anticipate several more cringe-worthy moments this season.

Don't believe me? Visit and watch last night's episode. It's outrageous.

Monday, March 17, 2008



It's a good color.

Luck. Envy. Growth. Prosperity. Whatever the color green represents to you, I hope you find it this St. Patrick's Day.

And speaking of finding things...

Sunday, March 16, 2008



I think my favorite part is "Chardonnay? Way to man up, Dad! Excuse me, can you also bring him a dress and two tickets to Rent?!" Ha.

Also hilarious? Tracy Morgan.

The digital short is pretty funny too. Gosh I love this show.

Friday, March 14, 2008


1. Crunch Pak apples are my new favorite snack. I cannot eat a whole apple, but I love being able to have a few fresh slices whenever I want.

2. We were all incorrect for Idol this week. Wes and I are still tied, with 6/13 each, David is 5/13 and I don't think Eric is actually playing.

3. A bunch of people from my office are going in together on lottery tickets since the pot this weekend is for like $275 million or something. Everyone has been e-mailing what they are going to buy if they win. And if I have to even tell you what that reminds me of, then allow me to introduce myself.

4. Honestly, I don't know how I got along before Monica. She saved my sanity this week. God bless BlackBerries.

5. I am only $150 $50 away from I MADE MY my fundraising minimum and am only $200 from my goal for my online campaign. Thank you so much to everyone who has donated recently, including Joy Beth, Meg, the Bondses and the Arnolds. Y'all have no idea - seriously - how much it means to me that you are helping me with this cause. Your generosity is so humbling and encouraging. I was trying to have the minimum fundraising completed with one month to go and we did it!!! Hooray!

Wednesday, March 12, 2008


I had to think long and hard about how I wanted to approach this story. I have to tell it correctly, to give it justice, to allow it the legs that such a "why me?" moment deserves.

Let me wax philosophic: I'd say 50% of what I write about on this blog is from my own quick-witted observation of the world around me, or situations I create for myself, such as this post or this one. In other words, it comes from me. The other 50%, like the famous Carrie Underwood story, this one about highway heathens or this recent one about almost getting 50 to life from the Belle Meade police is nothing but me chronicling the abnormal, unusual and did-that-really-just-happen? situations I find myself in. Or, it comes from other people (and by "other" I probably mean my mom), and I was just lucky enough to witness it (then drive straight home to blog about it). Or, put more simply: I can't make this stuff up, y'all (well, 50% of it, at least).

So this story is definitely going in the latter half of the posts, the moments where I just roll my eyes heavenward and say "Thank you, Jesus, for another perfectly blogworthy story." I swear, I think sometimes Jesus is up there in Heaven, teeing up these balls for me to swing at, because why else would all of these unbelievable, "Excuse me, Carrie, does this say loser?", "Is he doing what I think he's doing?", "Did she just say she was going to let me go?" incidents keep happening to me?

Such was the case today when I, clad in jeans (that I haven't worn since college [meaning I've lost weight {important to the story, I promise}]), and this empire-waist sweater, was asked the forbidden question.

Girls - you know which forbidden question I am talking about. The Question. The one that you DO NOT ask people, for fear of being in the exact same situation that the imbecilic bellhop found himself in, when, after we stepped off the elevator, he asked me:

"So when's the big day?"

Thinking he meant wedding, I said "I'm sorry?"

"The big day? Due date? Aren't you pregnant?"

Now. I will go on the record and admit that this time last year, yes I did look pregnant. Swollen, even. Too much stress and not enough time. It was my own fault and I saw it coming.

But that was then. And this is now. And no, you stupid man, I am not pregnant. There are a lot of other women walking around this hotel, this town, this earth even, that look so much more pregnant than I do, even if I am wearing an empire-waisted sweater, that for you to assume I am pregnant is so insulting, it's laughable.

I don't look pregnant, y'all. I don't. I did last year but I don't now. And damnit, I am proud of my non-pregnant ass! Judge me. I DON'T CARE.

So I genuinely did laugh it off. My shirt must have billowed when I stepped off the elevator or through the hotel doors or something. At the end of the day, I'm not pregnant, and he's still a bellhop, so we all win.

After assuring him I was NOT in the family way, I thanked him for helping me and then proceeded to text about 10 of my closest friends to tell them what happened. I wish I had thought to invite him to go running with me after dinner, or to drink the wine I brought with me, because either one would have proved to him - I AIN'T HAVING NO BABY!

The point: is this the body of a pregnant girl?

No. That is the body of a high schooler, but the more I run, the closer I am to getting back to that, and I am making progress.

The end. We will now resume our regularly scheduled blog vacation while I finish up my work trip.


I didn't get to see Idol last night (business trip 1, LJ 0) but I am going to pick who I hope will get kicked off based on previous performances: Kristi Lee Cook.

My sister played me her song over the phone and it sounded like the Beatles meets Rocky Top - ak.a., HORRIBLE (sorry to the UT fans fan who reads this [actually, I can't lie; I like that song but it was completely ruined for me when I moved to Tennessee]).

But my rental car has a sunroof (business trip 1, LJ 1), I had a filet last night (business trip 1, LJ 2), slept in a really comfy bed (business trip 1, LJ 3), and I've got Monica with me. So don't feel too sorry for me.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008


Monica and I are on the road again for the rest of the week.

I wish I had something funny or witty to say about it but I don't. So please send me/us lots of e-mails to pass the time.

Monday, March 10, 2008


Last week, Kanye West's tour rider leaked onto, who was interested in it because a game of Connect 4 is required at each venue. Odd but funny.

Since I am a) curious about celebrities b) GOING TO SEE KANYE IN MAY!!!!!!!!!!!, I decided to waste ten minutes of my time reading his tour rider.

I was skimming the meal requirements when I noticed this:TWO DESERTS with each meal? Wow. I'd go for the Sahara and the Gobi, but that's just me. I'm sure Kanye has a very acquired taste for deserts, so I bet what he picks out is just fine.

So after I laughed at that gross typo (and all the others - seriously, Kanye, your management needs a proofreader and guess who is available?) , I started thinking about how nice it must be to have an advance team that just caters to whatever you need wherever you go. I should come with a rider. Wouldn't that be awesome? I guess kind of had one for Junior Miss. When you go to state, included in all the forms you have to complete is one about your preferences: if you shower in the a.m. or p.m., if you are allergic to any foods, your favorite candy, etc. It's nice to work these things out ahead of time when you move in with a new family for nine days. Of course I went all out on mine. My host mom laughed with me about it later. I practically wrote a book under the favorite foods part. But it paid off, because my first night there, she asked if I'd like some Moose Tracks or Goldfish before bed.

But that was then, this is now. Here's what my Tour Rider would include now, no holds barred, in no order:

12 bottles Dasani Water
1 can Powdered Gatorade (lemon lime flavor)
1 platter Chick Fil A chicken nuggets
2 bags sea salt pita chips
1 tub Athenos Hummus (original)
1 bag Tostidos corn chips
1 crock pot of cheese dip (rotel + velveeta, should be prepared upon arrival)
large fruit tray (strawberries, red grapes, pineapple, cantaloupe, green apple wedges)
large veggie tray (carrots, broccoli, ranch dip)
1 block Cracker Barrell sharp cheddar cheese
1 bottle Chardonnay (should be chilled upon arrival)
1 bottle Chianti
wine opener
1 pint Chocolate Moose Tracks ice cream
1 box Girl Scout Thin Mints
1 Great American Cooke Cake (chocolate + white icing)
fresh plain whole almonds
1 box Kellogg's Corn Flakes
1 small bottle CoffeeMate French Vanilla creamer
1 tube Rembrandt IntenseStain Toothpaste
1 500-piece Jigsaw Puzzle (of anything but animals)

I think the point is not that you and your entourage consume everything, but have everything you may want to consume an arm's reach away. Although my entourage would have to fight me for some of those items. And these are just the dressing room items. Obviously the venue would have a chef prepare the real meals, complete with "deserts."

And it goes without saying (actually, it goes on another page) that a TV with DVD player is in the dressing room. Gotta be able to watch Friends!


My favorite moment in the musical Legally Blonde is when Elle finds out she gets the internship. She was upset because Warner had just proposed to Vivian (the musical, folks, not the movie) and she's mad at them until someone taps her on the shoulder and shows her she did it - she got the internship. She's just as good as Warner and Vivian, and everyone who doubted her can kiss off.

There's no Warner or Vivian in my life, but I really need an Elle moment. The I DID IT!, overcome with a sense of accomplishment, I'm doing something right moment. I have been known to cry during American Idol because I am so jealous that these kids get to quit waitressing or delivering mail to do what they simply LOVE to do.

This part of Legally Blonde made me tear up wistfully when I first saw it, and still kind of gives me chills, because I just want to scream this song too. I'm doing something right! Someone knows I exist! I did it!

Maybe, once again, this all has to do with the find your passion thing we discussed a few weeks ago. I wonder if crossing the finish line will do it. What if I burst into song? Wouldn't that be funny.

"Is that my name up on that list? Does someone know that I exist?
Is this a mistake? Am I even awake? Pinch me now to make sure!
Is that my name in black and white? Maybe I'm doing something right!
WOW! I feel so much better than before.

...I've gone on to better things, better jobs or bigger rings,
I don't have the time to cry, I'm too busy loving
my name up on that list, kind of a cool ironic twist!
Who else can I tell? Oh wait where's my cell? Mom will fall on the floor!
Look at my name in black and white, your daughter's doing something right!
I feel so much better than before!

...See, I have not begun to fight!
I am so much better
I am so much better
I am so much better
than before!"

In other words, something's gotta give.

Sunday, March 09, 2008


Yesterday's group run got canceled because of the snow. So I stayed snug as a bug in my house for most of the day, excluding one trip to the library and to McDonald's to return RedBox movies. Ratatouille? So cute.

So it was a relaxing day but that meant one very important thing - I still had to run at least nine miles on my own.

So today I woke up thinking I could skip the run, do it now or do it later. I took my ibuprofen. I started eating a power bar. In other words, I wasn't giving myself a choice.

I divided the run into three three-mile increments, stopping in between each at my car for Gatorade. The Accel Gel went down a little smoother (no gagging), but I wasn't as fast or as mentally on top of it this time out. Maybe because last time, I surprised myself (tricked myself?) into running the long distance. This time, I knew I what I was getting myself into.

The first three miles went by fine. I felt good and I didn't even stop to walk. I had my Accel Gel with a tiny bit of Gatorade and went off for round two. And that's when everything started hurting. My shins were fine, it was my derrière that was aching. But of all the parts on me, that's the part that can stand to ache, so I pressed on and before I knew it, I was back at my car again. Round Three was hard. I was sluggish and dragging and my goal became not one of time or agility, but just to get home. To endure, if you will. And so street after street, mailbox after mailbox, I kept going and before I knew it I had run my way back home.

Nine and a half miles ALL BY MYSELF. Keep in mind that until today, fives miles was the longest I've ever run solo, without anyone pushing me or encouraging me (don't underestimate how helpful that is). And I almost doubled it today. 9.5... 9.5... 9.5!

So, yay. I feel good. Well, I feel sore and not great physically, but my morale is up.

In other running news, for the first time ever I actually care about Daylight Savings Time. Why? Because as Wikipedia so eloquently put it, "adding daylight to afternoons benefits retailing, sports, and other activities that exploit sunlight after working hours."

So this means I have more daylight hours to run in after work. And shop, apparently.

I can't wait to exploit the sun!

P.S. - I ran nine and a half miles today!!!!

Friday, March 07, 2008


1. Wes and I are both 6/12 on Idol predictions. Here's the thing: it's tougher this year because as Paula says, it's the most talented season ever -- a sentiment with which I agree wholeheartedly, if by "most" you actually mean "least." Though Archuleta himself could be responsible for providing the most talented season ever, so if that's what Paula means, then yes, I agree. But in previous seasons, the Top 12 is more or less comprised of about six good singers, five average singers and one joke (Savol, Covias, Sanjaya, etc). The thing that is making this season tough is that it's opposite in formula: we have one great singer, three good singers and eight time wasters who may can sing but won't win. And I don't care in which order those 8 time wasters are sent home as long as they get sent. Flip a coin. Roll some dice. Would it be better if I said all eight names at once, as in they are tying for last place? But back to this week: Kady and Luke were easy to predict. And while I couldn't be happier (simply) that Danny Jessica Alba is gone, I thought he'd Sanjaya his way into the Top 12. But I gladly stand corrected. As for the females, Asia'h should not have left before Neidermyer or KLC. And as I told Stephen and Eric - who were both 2/4 last night - it is kind of shameful how much thought I put into this.

2. $1.49 obsession of the week - Magic Shine Nail File. Ladies, it's amazing. Trust me.

3. There is a good chance that I'll be running my +9 miles tomorrow morning in 2-4" of snow. If that's not hardcore, I don't know what is.

4. I am DREADING the next two weeks.

5. I got a fortune this week that read "Your love of music will be an important part of your life." Interesting. I'm not saying, I'm just saying...

Thursday, March 06, 2008


I just exchanged about five or six e-mails with a business contact. Normally, by e-mail two or three, I'm signing them as LJ, especially if the e-mails are informal (which these were).

But this person kept addressing me as Lindsey, so I kept signing them as Lindsay. I almost went with LindsAy just to get the point across.

This is the business world, okay? Aren't we supposed to be winning friends and influencing highly effective people in 90 seconds or something? Step One: Spell my name right. I know it's not the only name in the world. I know we're all busy. But just because your name has three letters in it doesn't mean that you don't need to at least try to spell everyone else's the right way. It's lazy. That is one of the quickest ways to get under my skin and/or off on the wrong foot, business world or otherwise.

Another business associate used to completely butcher my name. I can understand Lindsey; it's just one letter. But when you start dropping Z's and Y's up in there (as in Lynzi, Linsi, Linzi or my personal favorite - Lensay) I'm going to want to correct you.

I mean, you see who the e-mail is from before you even see the e-mail itself. There it is plain as day. Lindsay. Am I OCD for double-checking the spelling of someone's name if there is even a question about it in my mind? It's someone's NAME, for crying out loud. It doesn't get more personal than that. I just think it's an easy way of showing that you care or value a person if you take the time to spell it right (especially if it's easy to misspell). Maybe that's just me.

Oddly enough, I can make my peace with calling people by the wrong name - after all, there's a lot of people out there and sometimes your mind goes blank. But more than twice and I'm going to judge you. For example:
Forgivable Up To Two Times: People confuse one of my coworkers and me all the time. We both have short brown hair, are insanely good-looking, started around the same time, and our names are very similar. We're used to it, and sometimes to be funny we'll call each other by the wrong name on purpose (when we're in a group I'll call her Lindsay just to throw everyone off). But we have conferred and know who around here is too lazy to think/care and who just makes accidental slips.
Unforgiveable No Matter When or Where: Last week someone looked right at me and called me another name that doesn't even sound like mine. Icing on the Cake: I was wearing a name tag. LAZY!

I don't think I'm asking for the moon here, do you? I guess we can debate this two-fold: there's spelling someone's name incorrectly, then there's calling him/her the wrong name altogether. Offensive? Not so much? Thoughts?

P.S.: Lensay/Lynzi/Lindsey ran five miles last night. This is worth noting because it's the longest she's ever run by herself.

Wednesday, March 05, 2008


Well, it happened just as predicted. I am officially obsessed with Monica the Blackberry. I had to tweak a few things to get her just like I wanted (trained, if you will), and am still getting used to her QWERTY keys, but I am in love.

However - when I say obsessed, I do not mean that I can't be without her. There are many more people in the world that are far attached to their phones more than I am. For example: my mother, who takes her phone EXERCISING with her. Yes, she goes for her 45 minute walks and talks on the phone the whole time. So she's more addicted to her phone than I am, and she's got a plain old Nokia. I, on the other hand, have left Monica in the car or at my desk or at my house many times. But each time I needed her, there she was, ready to alert me of my new mail or inform me what time the movie starts and anything else I've wanted to know.

For example: just today I was driving around town, looking for a Bed Bath & Beyond. I was not having luck finding the store, so I whipped out Monica, Googled the store and then called them. Then, still lost, I mapped the store and Monica and I figured out where I was going.

Then Monica went dead on me, but I didn't mind. My batteries were off for the day as well (obviously, as I was shopping at 3 on a Wednesday afternoon).

Tuesday, March 04, 2008


Good Lord, today feels like a Monday. One thing right after the other!

In light of that, I need something to make me laugh. So I found this:

Now let me explain what's going on in this photo - my friend Carlee and I were partners for a video book report project for our English class. Carlee's family is among the coolest and creative families I've ever known, so between me, Carlee, her fun mom and my crazy mom, we ended up going all out. The plot of the book (I can't even remember what the book was) sounded like perfect fodder for two country grandmas sitting around gossiping, so that's what we did for our report. We dressed up as old ladies and discussed the book's main character as if she was a granddaughter of a friend of ours - there was a lot of "I declare!" and "bless her heart" going on.

Carlee stuffed her rump with a pillow to achieve that old lady shape (resulting in the perfect old lady waddle) and notice we've both got the old lady hunch going on. We're wearing her grandma's suits, Carlee is holding my mom's decoupage wooden purse and I have on her old cat's eye glasses. She powdered her hair and I have on a wig. And don't miss our pantyhose and shoes.

Now if that doesn't brighten your day a little bit, I don't know what will. Thank goodness for incriminating photos.


Something very strange happened yesterday at the end of my run.

I was struggling. I didn't take my Advil early enough to kick in before I started running, so my legs were killing from the get-go. Plus, somehow, the route I chose was uphill both ways. Not sure how that happened. And I tripped while I was crossing the street. I caught myself before I hit the pavement but it hurt my ankle.

So I was on the way back, it was about to start raining and I was mad at how long it had taken me to run the first 3 miles. I was not trying very hard, just trotting along like dead weight. Not impressive. So I cranked it up to one of my favorite songs and took off.

Once I got to the last half-mile stretch of the run, I started thinking about what crossing the finish line is going to feel like. I pretended that the trash cans and mailboxes lining the street were my family and friends, lining the course to cheer me on, and that the finish line was the end of the sidewalk where I turn onto my street.

I was so into that visualization (sorry, 10th grade Bible class teacher) that when I jumped off the sidewalk curb onto my street, I burst into tears.

I'll blame it partially on being tired and partially on being stressed out (antsy, if you will) about something totally unrelated to running. But it happened nonetheless, and on my cooldown walk down my street and around my cul-de-sac, I was crying like a fool.

I called my mom after I showered and put on PJs and told her about my little spontaneous cry, to which she said, "I'll cry with you but if you start throwing up I'm outta there." I told her I make no guarantees.

I guess I'm just ready for the marathon to be here. Maybe I'm not physically ready yet, but mentally I am ready to get this over with. I'm tired of asking for money. I miss sleeping in on Saturdays. I am over having to make my weekend plans around my runs. And most of all I am ready for the satisfaction of accomplishing something I never ever thought I could.

Monday, March 03, 2008


In case anyone was still doubting me, it's official - I just filled out and faxed in my entry form for the 2008 Country Music Half Marathon! I'm really going to do it!

I also faxed in my recommitment forms. Thanks Margo, Natalie and Mary Byrne for your donations! Click here if you'd like to contribute.

How pretty was the weather this weekend? It warmed up Saturday and yesterday was just gorgeous. It made me want to play tennis or something just to be outside.

...Which brings me to why I don't play tennis. Let me say this: I like the idea of tennis (and I certainly like the wardrobe). If I had a racket, I JUST MIGHT have gone and hit balls yesterday. In college, my boyfriend and I would go to the intramural courts and play a game where we'd hit back and forth and try to make it through the alphabet (in other words, successfully hit it between each other 26 times). Thanks to Captain Coordination (me), we never got past G or so. But even that was too much pressure for me. If I can just swing a racket with no repercussions for hitting or missing the ball, then I am fine. When points or a streak or the tiniest bit of competition factors into it, then I fold.

My mom enrolled my sister and I in tennis lessons when were in elementary school. I enjoyed it but the problem was I stunk at it. We both did. I just have a very limited skill set when it comes to hand-eye coordination. So I don't really know why I thought it would be good for me to try out for the tennis team in junior high but I did. I think it was more of "anyone who wants to play, come sign up" and I knew if I was on the tennis team my mom would finally have to buy me a tennis skirt.

But it was fun. I did it both years and enjoyed it. We had practice twice a week and the snacks at the matches were great and we all rode on a shuttle bus together from school to the country club (shut up) where our practices were held. We each had a "seat" on the team for match purposes, and for whatever reason, they named me Number Five.

So one day at practice, Number Six decided to challenge me. We had to play and if she beat me (which she did), she became Number Five and I became Number Six. So it wasn't very fair for Number Seven to issue another challenge, immediately following the match that I'd lost. but she did and she won. So it REALLY wasn't fair for Number Eight to challenge me. It was hot, I was tired from playing two people, so of course I lost. Or, to sum up, I went from five to eight in one day.

That was the day I realized I was not cut out to be a tennis player, no matter how much I dressed the part.

Which is why rather than play tennis yesterday, I went to the mall. Like I said, I stick to what I'm good at (this whole half-marathon thing excluded).

Sunday, March 02, 2008


When I changed the blog's name, I also made some behind-the-scenes changes. For instance, now I show up in search engines.

While I was nervous about this at first, now I wait with baited breath to see what poor people Google will send my way. The search queries that have referred people to Pearls of Wit so far include:

Rachel's Hair Season 7
Miranda Lambert Jeans
Frank and Jillian
Accel Gel Shelf Life
Are CT and Diem broken up?
Cheer dance "Free Ride"
How to spot fake Chi hair straighteners
I woke up toothless
Unfriending on Facebook, what happens when you unfriend someone on Facebook?, unfriending Facebook people, unfriending people on Facebook (apparently I am an expert on that topic?)
What to say in outgoing voicemail message
What Vera Bradley patterns are going to retire in July 2008?

and my personal favorite:

Sumthin pooping (click here for that post, even though the video is sadly no longer online)

Saturday, March 01, 2008


This morning I successfully ran six miles at our Group Training Session. And it was our mentor's birthday, so I ran those hilly six miles with a birthday hat on, elastic strap under my chin and all. Actually it wasn't that bad. I suppose those things are aerodynamic.

Anyway, good thing I am upping the mileage. In case training for the half-marathon wasn't enough of a reason, now I have another.

You see, my roommate is obsessed with baking. She bakes all the time. I have to be selective about what I eat from her confections because if I wasn't, I'd weigh 800 lb. If it's chocolate, she knows I'll eat it, but the fruity things I don't always opt to indulge in. So, she has been talking about owning a bakery when she gets old or starting a catering business or something one day. Recently, she noticed a bakery going up near our house and was all over it. She was there the day of the soft opening and the actual grand opening.

Now, when I was in New York, I went to Magnolia Bakery because it's supposed to be just amazing. But honestly? The best thing about that place was watching Evan insult this snotty girl who took at least 30 minutes to pick out 5 dozen cupcakes, thus holding up the line and it's not exactly warm outside in NYC in November. So we are all peering in the big window where the cupcakes are displayed, drooling over the cupcakes and the heat, and Evan sees this girl pick up a cupcake and put it back down, which would have been okay by me if her finger had not gotten in the icing! She even left a little fingerprint. As luck would have it, we got to go inside immediately after witnessing that and of course Evan walked right up the cupcake display, picked up the very cupcake the girl had stuck her finger in, and said "Oh, this one looks good but uh oh, what's that? oh no, there's a - hey, is this - that looks like your fingerprint right here!" She just glanced at him and went on filling her 5 dozen cupcake boxes which her poor boyfriend (slave?) was holding.

Anyway. So while I like cupcakes as much as the next girl, I was kind of let down by Magnolia's. So I just figured GiGi's would be similar. A good cupcake, but nothing to write home about.

UNTIL last night. My roommate, God bless her, brought home a dark chocolate cupcake, just for me. I bit into it and never looked back. The thing was amazing. I am hooked. I have already programmed GiGi's number into my phone so I can call to get the flavors and decide if I need to make a pit stop on my way home from work or not. I almost went back today until I decided that a cupcake does not a healthy lunch make.

The point -- if you live in Nashville: go to GiGi's. Immediately. The cupcakes are delicious. And most importantly: don't stick your finger in the icing then put the cupcake back, because odds are someone was watching.

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