Ask And It Shall Be Given Unto You

Someone mentioned in the comments yesterday that I should put up some links to old posts for the people who recently started reading my blog.

I for one think it’s an absolutely brilliant idea because frankly all I can think of to say right now is “The Office comes on tonight! The Office comes on tonight!” And I can only think of about five of you who would want to read that. As opposed to, you know, the eight of you who want to go back through my blog archives.

AHEM.

So without further rambliness, I give you:

So A Vase Walks Into A Bar…

In Which I Am Resolved

Okay. This Is Definitely Going To Be The End. Really. I Think. (you might want to read this post first)

He Giveth

How’d They Get So Smart

If It Weren’t My Life, I Wouldn’t Believe It, Either

I Shoot, I Score!

I’m Posting This, Running From The Computer, And Never Looking Back

At Least I Didn’t Call It “Giggles, Grins & Unicorns”

Finally: In Which I Make My Mama Very, Very Proud (I always vow I will never link to this post again. And then I link to it. It’s a sickness, really.)

Have a great Thursday, everybody!

You Shared The Love – And Then Some

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Thank y’all so much.

(Bit-o-bloggy-business: Heather said to remind you that if you voted in the “final round” today between 10AM and 3PM, you need to vote again.)

Anyway, I won’t get all mushy on you – YET – but you have encouraged me more than you know.

And also: y’all rock.

You bless my socks off every single day.

If This Writer’s Block Doesn’t Let Up I’m Going To Be Forced To Post My Grocery List

I didn’t post anything yesterday, and I have no excuse, really, except that I had to walk the dogs with Alex and go buy some make-up and eat some Mexican food with friends. And then I had to watch the 435th round of American Idol auditions, followed by a solid hour of staring at the computer screen and waiting for the words to come.

But the words didn’t come, so I watched a “Friends” re-run instead. And washed some clothes.

LIVING ON THE EDGE, aren’t I?

The part of my day that involved make-up buying was an act of necessity and not frivolity, seeing as how I ran out of my foundation sometime before Christmas and, since none of my local department stores were offering free gifts with the purchase of my make-up brand (that would be Lancome), I added a little bit of water to my empty foundation bottle, shook it up, and that is what I’ve been using for the last six weeks.

Lancome Old Tinted Water.

Strangely enough, it’s not a product you see promoted in their advertising.

But because I am my mother’s child, I was determined to hold out for the Free Gift as long as necessary. I mean, if I’m going to spend $35.00 on foundation, then the least they can do is throw in a brightly-colored make-up bag and some product samples. And yes, I could go to the drugstore and buy foundation that costs about $25 less, but because my skin is essentially the same color as, oh, the palest pale in all of paledom, any foundation I buy from the drugstore tends to make me look like someone who has spent far too much time in the Mystic Tan booth. Or like someone might after a particularly unfortunate tanning bed incident.

In short, I buy the expensive stuff because they’re kind enough to make foundation in shades that don’t make me look like I’ve recently rubbed a combination of carrots and iodine all over my face.

And for that, I am truly thankful.

So this morning, as I was putting on my make-up (yes. I put on make-up. I did. And I showered, too), I found myself thinking about how, really, the only thing I truly need in the way of cosmetics is moisturizer. And if you’re in your twenties and thinking, “Moisturizer? Really?,” all I can say is that there will be a day in the not-so-near future when you walk out of the shower and, after about five minutes, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that if you don’t find some sort of salve to slather all over your face, your skin is going to crack open and shatter all over the floor.

Truly, it’s one of the more delightful aspects of the aging process. And really, it’s my duty to tell you 20-somethings these things. It’s better that you know now, not to mention that it’s the least I can do after All The Rambling.

I’ll try to find some semblance of coherence and come back later.

In the meantime, you can go here and here for some great Valentine’s Day ideas.

And speaking of Valentine’s, the number of Hershey’s Kisses eaten during the writing of this post? Four.

Next time I’ll try really, really hard for six.

Everybody needs a goal.

The Night That Rocked My Bloggy World

I mentioned a few weeks ago that I had called Emma Kate with what I felt was some terribly thrilling news, and based on the excitement in my voice she thought I must be pregnant, only I’m not pregnant, so it took a few minutes for her to realign her conversational expectations and then she agreed that yes, oh my word, what I had called to tell her was terribly exciting indeed.

So here’s what I called to tell her.

Earlier that day I had been clicking around the Lifeway site, trying to find out if Beth Moore had any new Bible studies that were available for download (backstory: last spring I did an online version of her Living Beyond Yourself study with about 25 other bloggers, and through that study I met some phenomenal bloggy friends). I was having a hard time finding what I was looking for on the Lifeway website, so I thought I would click over to the Living Proof website and see if there was any info that I could get straight from the horse’s mouth.

Not that Beth is a horse, of course. Anything but. She’s adorable. Cute as a bug, actually. Not that she’s a bug, either. Purely figurative comparisons, you understand.

And over to the right-hand side of the LPM homepage, I saw a little link that caught my eye, and I blinked about fifteen times when I saw it:

LPM Blog

My immediate reaction:

OKAY I’M SORRY BETH MOORE HAS A BLOG AND NO ONE TOLD ME?

So I clicked on the link, looked around, and sure enough:

BETH MOORE HAS A BLOG AND NO ONE TOLD ME.

It’s called, fittingly, The Living Proof Ministries blog. Beth’s daughter Amanda writes there, as well.

I was surprised to see that there were just a few comments on each post. I thought there had to be a mistake because Beth Moore should have, like, eleventy hundred comments a post, so many comments that she’d have to turn off the comments, in fact, and yet I found myself commenting with ease, tickled to death to be able to do so, feeling like she and Amanda were old friends I’d known for years but never had the privilege to meet. But after I looked in the archives, I realized that their blog was only about six weeks old, and I immediately created a new post so that I could put up a link here.

But something gave me pause. I don’t know what it was…but there are, um, kind of a lot of y’all (all right. I confess. more than “tens”), and I kept thinking that maybe Beth and Amanda didn’t want a surge of blog traffic, that maybe they were trying to do a slow and steady launch. And while I’m pretty bold, I certainly didn’t want to mess up their bloggy routine or add more work for them. I didn’t know what to do.

So I talked it through with D. and then Emma Kate (my personal expert on All Things Beth since she has completed every Beth Moore Bible study ever written), and they both agreed that I should hold off on linking – mainly because the LPM blog seemed to be a quiet corner, and it might be rude for me to disrupt that. I even talked to a couple of other bloggers, and they agreed that I shouldn’t mention it. I didn’t like not mentioning it, but I really do think it was the right thing to do.

I did tell three or four of my real-life friends about The LPM Blog – and I think all of them headed over there at one time or another and commented. I commented several times, too – just grateful for the opportunity to let Beth and Amanda know what a difference the Living Proof ministry has made in my life. I figured that word about their blog was bound to spread eventually – but OH, how I longed to link.

The problem, though, was that every single time I would start a post to tell y’all ALL about it, I would think about the wise counsel of my husband and my friends. And I would also envision receiving a post-link letter from the Living Proof legal team:

“Dear Mrs. BooMama:

It has come to our attention that you recently linked to Beth and Amanda’s LPM blog. At this time the blog is in the developmental stages only. Unless you cease and desist with your linking, lurking, and occasional commenting, we will be forced to contact the authorities.

We do, however, believe that God has a special plan for your life. And Beth wants you to continue to work to get your hair just as big and blonde as you like it as you pursue Jesus with complete abandon.

Juststayawayfromtheblog.

Because He Lives,
The LPM Lawyer People.”

But then, last Wednesday night, the craziest thing happened. And I wasn’t going to mention this EVER because my mama would say that it’s tacky of me to do so, but some of y’all have commented about it and sent me emails where the subject line looks like !!!! and OH MY GOODNESS and HAVE YOU SEEN THIS, and I need to address it, I reckon.

Last Wednesday night there was a link to my blog in one of Amanda’s posts on The LPM Blog, and I would love to tell you that once I got the news and saw the post that I was cool, calm and collected. That I took it all in stride. That I maintained my composure.

But as D. will attest, I LOST MY EVER-LIVIN’ MIND. And if you look at my comment on Amanda’s post, you’ll see plenty of evidence to that effect.

Also: I waved my hands in front of my face a lot.

And I took screen shots of my computer screen and can you even stand what a total nerd I am? Have you ever seen a bigger, more gaping VOID OF COOL in your life?

Don’t believe me? Look:

 

lpmscreen.png
 

YEP. A SCREEN SHOT.

TOTAL. GOOB.

I also looked at the referrals on my Site Meter for the first time in, I don’t know, EVER – and I took a screen shot of that, too, but I won’t show you the picture because I think you’re probably worried enough about my sanity as it is.

COOL AS A CUCUMBER, I was.

And please don’t misunderstand: I am flattered to pieces whenever anyone puts a link to me on their blog. I’m still a little amazed that anyone outside my circle of family and real-life friends would want to read this little bastion-o-mediocrity.

But there was something about seeing a link to my blog on the Living Proof blog that made the world seem oh-so-very small. And it was yet another example of God taking parts of my life that seem completely unrelated and then connecting them in a completely unexpected way.

I love it when He does that.

But here’s the very best part.

As a result of this whole linking thing, I was able to contact Amanda about whether or not it would be okay to link to The LPM Blog. I explained why I didn’t feel comfortable linking without their permission, and as is my custom I took approximately 1,000 words to say what most people could communicate in 100 (another example of my wordy tendencies: this post you’re reading right now).

And yesterday afternoon Amanda wrote me back and gave me the go-ahead to link away. Which is what I’ve wanted to do for the last, you know, THREE WEEKS – only God worked it out in a way that I would have never, ever expected.

So go see Beth and Amanda’s LPM Blog. And love on ’em real good with a sweet comment. You’re going to absolutely love what they’re doing with this new area of the Living Proof ministry.

Go! Now! They know that y’all are headed their way.

And they can’t wait to meet you.

p.s. – Many, many thanks to Heather – once again – for creating a blog template that’s way better than I deserve. If there’s anything “lovely” to look at here, it’s because she and the great people at Swank made it happen.

Pretend I’m Wearing A Little Sticker That Says “I Voted”

Because that’s exactly what I just did.

And you can, too.

Polls close February 7th.

Also, the Hidden Treasure Blog Awards are now open for nominations – and you can find all the information here. It’s a great opportunity to encourage people who might not have many readers but whose blogs are just chock-full-o-bloggy-goodness.

Have a great day, everybody!

Everything Was Glorious Except For My Jeans And The Chickens

I have a confession to make.

It’s something that completely goes against my ladylike Southern heritage, but it happened, and I might as well ‘fess up.

So here you have it:

I high-fived Emma Kate during the basketball game.

I did, y’all.

I’m not sure exactly what happened, especially since my friends from college would tell you that I have three hard-and-fast non-negotiables in my Sporting Event Code Of Behavior:

1) I do not pump my arm in the air while making barking noises.
2) I do not associate with team mascots, as I am terrified of them.
3) I do not high-five.

And so it has been for the majority of my adult life.

Until yesterday.

But oh, there was this beautiful three-point shot for the Bulldogs, and just as the ball left the shooter’s hands he was fouled, and in all the resulting commotion surrounding the possibility of a four-point play I raised my arm and found myself, inexplicably, slapping Emma Kate’s hand.

I would give anything if I could push a rewind button and make the whole cringe-worthy incident go away. But as it stands, I am forced to live with the memory of my actions. Sadly, I cannot turn back the hands of time.

But you may rest assured that it will not happen again.

Also.

I think that as sassy as EK and I felt in our cute jeans, I definitely learned a valuable jeans-related lesson.

My beloved $20 Faded Glory jeans cannot withstand my level of activity during a college basketball game. I stood up and sat down approximately 863 times, and by the end of the game the jeans were a full size larger than they were when we arrived at the coliseum. I would pull them up – and they would fall right back down, and the back pockets ended up somewhere around the tops of my knees.

Attractive? Oh I think so.

And did I mention that there was a contest to see who could propel rubber chickens into laundry baskets at halftime?

I’ll let that one soak in a bit before I continue.

Now I recognize that my alma mater is a land-grant institution with one of the nation’s finest poultry science programs, and I realize that my home state of Mississippi has a proud agricultural heritage. But I can’t help but feel that if my alma mater is as forward-thinking and progressive as they tout in their promotional materials (and as I know them to be from my first-hand experience), then perhaps eliminating the throwing-the-rubber-chicken contest is in order.

Of course, I am the same person who just said that I high-fived my friend and then wore jeans that, by the start of the second half, gave the impression that I was struggling with an overloaded diaper, so I may not be the most credible spokesperson for creating more sophisticated halftime activities.

However, if the gameday operations people decide that they want to have a halftime high-fiving contest, I’m certainly now well-qualified to judge.