Tonight on the way home from church I called my friend Daphne. She left me a very serious-sounding message about, oh, SIX HOURS before I returned her call, but unbeknownst to me my phone was on silent. Anyhoo.

So I called her from the car and didn’t even think about the fact that I was interrupting the American Idol results show (I know! The irony!). Alex HAD to talk to her because he HAS to talk to EVERYONE I call (or who calls me, for that matter). Here’s what Alex’s conversation sounded like from my end:

“Hey Daffy. I go to church and to Walgreens and now I goin’ home. Okay! Bye bye!”

[hands phone back to me, then starts screaming]

“Wait, Mama! Wait! Wanna say ‘I love you’ to Daffy!”

[I give him the phone again.]

“Daffy, I love you.”

Then Daffy – er, Daphne’s older son, Davis, wanted to talk to me. I mean, it was only fair.

Knowing that Davis, who’s five, has had a tremendous crush on AI‘s Kellie Pickler, I started our conversation by saying, “Davis, how do you feel about Kellie Pickler?”

“I love her.”

“So do you like her a bunch?”

“I love her.”

With Davis’ undying love and devotion established, his mama and I talked long enough to agree to talk later – once the AI festivities were over.

About an hour later, my phone rang at home. I hadn’t watched the results show yet, so I told Daph to go ahead and give me the news. She said, “Lemme put it this way. My son bawled his eyes out. He sobbed. Even heaved a little.”

Kellie Pickler, you see, was eliminated.

And I just thought that was the sweetest thing ever – that a five year old little boy, totally infatuated with a cute little blonde singer from North Carolina, was grieved to the point of tears when his truest of true loves was eliminated from a reality television program.

Hopefully that sweet little broken heart will be all mended in the morning.

(all the livelong day)

Oh, that’s punny.

Seriously (because I am so very, ahem, serious), I have been working on a blogroll to put in the sidebar, and initially I thought I’d just list all the blogs I read on a regular basis.

And then I thought, well, no.

And then I thought, well, maybe.

And then I thought, well, okay.

I’ve been very definitive about this whole process, as you can tell.

So here’s what I’m doing. I’m listing all the blogs I subscribe to via Bloglines. But I can’t get the silly Bloglines blogroll to work (at some point I will in fact use every variation of the word “blog,” and then my computer will explode from sheer relief that the whole “bloggy” saga is over).

As a result, I’m MANUALLY typing in my Bloglines stuff at Blogrolling (attention, Bloglines: YOU HAVE SOME PRODUCT MALFUNCTION ISSUES TO ADDRESS, and as a result of that I am TOILING in the typing trenches). Hopefully I’ll get it all up and running sometime later today.

BUT (coordinating conjuction #8, for those of you keeping score at home), if I accidentally leave you off of my blogroll and you know for a fact that I’ve been reading in your corner of the blogosphere (“blog” variation #7 in this post alone), please remind me in the comments and I will happily fix my mistake.

If you would just get a kick out of seeing your blog’s name in the sidebar (remember: TENS of people read this blog every single day – it’s a heady level of attention, I’ll tell you that much), let me know that, too, and I’ll add you. If you would in turn link back to me in your blogroll, that would be mighty bloggity of you.

Finally, if you link to me but I may not know it, leave me a note so that I can reciprocate.

This entire linking deal is null and void if you worship the devil or harm animals. Or children. Or people, actually. In those cases I would prefer that you not link to me. Nor will I be linking to you.

A girl has to have standards, you know. ;-)

Tonight’s theme is great love songs. I can’t fathom that this style of music bodes well for Miss Pickler – but stranger things have happened. I am terribly encouraged by David Foster’s presence, however, because he understands the beauty of a power ballad (see Celine Dion, Josh Groban, Whitney before she lost her dang mind, etc.).

Katharine McPhee – “I Have Nothing” – It’s hard for me to hear this song without seeing the word “Rachel” flashing on a huge marquee (if you saw “The Bodyguard,” you know what I’m talking about). This song makes me a little sad, too, because it really does remind me of Whitney in her heyday. As for Katharine’s version, I don’t know. I like her so much, but it felt like she was trying too hard. I love the subtlety of Katharine’s performances, the fact that she usually doesn’t oversing, and tonight felt forced to me. Still, her “off” night is most people’s singing dream come true.
Elliott Yamin – “A Song For You” – I mean, did it all come together for Elliott this week or what? Every part of that performance was awesome for me – I had chillbumps for most of it, and at one point I thought I was gonna have to stand up and have some music church in my living room. :-) I just loved it. Even David said, “you know, that was really, really, reallllly good.” I’m very proud for Mr. Yamin tonight. Far and away his best performance yet.

[Y’all should know that I’m very nervous for Pickler and what in the world David Foster will say to her, because shhhh, don’t tell anyone, but she can’t sing.]

Kellie Pickler – “Unchained Melody” – I mean no disrespect to the Righteous Brothers, but I cannot stand this song. And lands alive, Kellie didn’t do it any favors. She just seems BORED TO TEARS when she’s singing, and guess what? I’m bored to tears, too! I think she got into the competition with a really good LeeAnn Rimes imitation, and she IS cute as a bug, but at this point, she is woefully out of her league. (And HEY! There’s Sela in the audience, y’all! Sorry to veer off topic, but, you know, hometown girl…and even Sela looked like “Oh, honey, you’re adorable. You can’t sing a lick, but you’re adorable.”) Anyway, Kellie is proof positive that looking good in a tank top can take a person very far in America – all the way to the top six in AI.
Paris Bennett – “The Way We Were” – Andrea Boccelli and David Foster were impressed by her. I wish I liked this song more – but it’s one of those that I burned out on around the age of 7. I did like that she sang this song in a lower key, so her voice sounded really rich – but as a performer, she just doesn’t move me. I don’t know – just “aight” for me, yo.
Taylor Hicks – “Just Once” – Now this song happens to be one of my FAVORITES. And I think it’s a good song for Taylor. I think I just don’t like it as much when Taylor does the sensitive thing. I like it when Taylor is upbeat and playful and soulful. So I don’t think it was his best – and certainly not as good as Elliott – but I’m pulling for my Alabama boy.
Chris Daughtry – “Have You Really Ever Lived A Woman” – I despise this song. Despise it. But I totally buy his version. I loved the acoustic arrangement, and it even made me forget about that Kevin Costner “Robin Hood” movie (isn’t that what this song was written for?). And once again, I applaud CD for stepping outside his comfort zone and trying something a little different. But will his fans buy it and keep him out of the bottom three?

Best of the night: Elliott
Should go: Pickler
Will go: Pickler – please?

Remember when I talked about my ongoing frustration with “mama small talk” the other day? You can refresh your memory here if you need to.

Well, I’m not alone. Check out the comments on this post at HolyMama! (please remember – the exclamation point is very important, because she’s not just HolyMama, she’s HolyMama!). And I like her. No. I like her! :-)

Also, one day last week I mentioned to Diane that she should do a whole post on her mama’s colorful expressions, because they always crack me up when Diane throws one into a post. Well, lo and behold, she did, and I have laughed until I cried. Sister emailed me and said that she had “rurnt” her eye make-up from laughing so hard. Please pay special attention to #7, #8 and #9.

I have no doubt in my mind that Elise will need some form of protective undergarment when she reads Diane’s list (wasn’t that a polite way of saying that she’s going to wet her pants?). And Laura, you must show your mama.

Enjoy, internets.

No, I’m not pregnant.

But it’s just as good! Okay, not quite as good. But still, REALLY good!

I had just started a post asking if one of you would please do something funny so that I could write about it, because I was so desperate for writing material that I needed your help.

But my husband rescued me.

You see, he has a meeting next Tuesday in Mississippi. And since we’re from Mississippi, he’s going to take Alex with him so that they can go see all the grandparents for a couple of days.

And you’re thinking, “oh, yay, good for you, your little boy is getting to see his grandparents. yay.”

And I’m thinking, “DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?”

DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?

I will be by myself. For a whole night. In my house. Without anyone else here.

For the record, I have not been alone in my house since 2003. Since TWO THOUSAND AND THREE.

I feel somewhat guilty about the level of joy (volume of joy? what in fact is the official unit of joy measurement?) that is stirring deep down in my soul. And it’s not that I don’t love living with David and Alex. It’s not that at all. It’s just that I haven’t been by myself in, you know, three years.

(For those of you who don’t know, my husband works out of our house, so he is almost always here, and even when he’s not, Alex is, because he’s just three and, well, he can’t drive yet.)

So if you were me – home alone for the first time in three years – what would you do? I don’t even know where to begin with my plans, but I feel plans are of the essence because if I’m not careful, I will do nothing but sit on the edge of the couch for 24 hours, murmuring to myself, “I am all alone. I am all alone. I am all alone.” And the murmuring would of course be interrupted by squeals of delight.

Suggestions?

…Sunshine For The Rest Of Your Lives.”

Or so the old saying goes.

But does anyone know the proper adage when a stabbing taints one’s nuptial bliss?

Link courtesy of my brother, who seems to have radar for finding stories like this one.