I can’t seem to get my brain to approach anything even remotely resembling coherence tonight, and that can only mean one thing, internets: it’s time for a list.

I’m sure you’re completely not thrilled by that fact, so please do commence with the not jumping and the not clapping. It’s time to not celebrate!

1. This afternoon I worked on a grocery list for something I’m helping with at church this weekend. And do you know what made me so happy?

My grocery list says “butter (10)” – because I need to buy TEN POUNDS OF BUTTER.

Fortunately, the butter is for lots of different dishes that will be served to lots of different people. That should bring some relief to those of you who were feeling a little worried that I was just making one casserole. Like maybe an Artery Clogging Surprise or something along those lines.

2. I think Cheryl and Gilles are the frontrunners in “Dancing With The Stars,” and I think Melissa and Tony are a close second. I should also mention that I’m having a hard time forgiving Tony for wearing this shirt a couple of weeks ago (if you can call it a shirt because really I think it’s more of a leotard), but I’m working through it.

After all, he is a grown man and completely within his rights to pick a costume that makes him look like an extra in a 1984 aerobics video entitled “Step To It!”

But it could’ve been worse: he could’ve worn a headband. So I’ll count my blessings.

3. Are any of y’all watching “Mad Men”? LOVE IT. But don’t spoil it if you’re all caught up because I’m only on the second episode of season two.

4. Yesterday I looked at my search engine terms for the first time in a while, and I was especially intrigued by this one: how to dress like Jack Bauer.

Does the solution to this dilemma seem overly obvious to anyone else? Because I’m thinking that if you want to dress like Jack Bauer, you pretty much just need to put on an assortment of black clothing items and then wear them for 24 hours in a row. Maybe you need to rip the knee of your pants around hour six, and maybe you need to get some mud splattered on you around hour 15, but overall I feel pretty certain that dressing like Jack Bauer is an attainable goal for almost anyone.

I feel better now that I’ve said that.

Now do have a lovely Tuesday.

Melanie and I seem to have a knack for hunting down incredibly mediocre Mexican food no matter where we are. In fact, we’ve shared mediocre Mexican food every single time we’ve seen each other this last year, so we vowed and swore and declared that we would not go anywhere near Mexican food while we were in Louisiana this past weekend. Quite frankly there are some streaks that need to be broken.

Plus, I mean, we were in New Orleans, for crying out loud. And while New Orleans boasts countless culinary achievements, queso dip isn’t really one of them. Y’all should be proud of me for recognizing that because I think we all know that if there’s one food I never, ever turn down, it’s cheese.

See also: bacon.

My flight left pretty early Friday morning, so I was actually at the hotel in New Orleans by 10. Our room wasn’t ready, so I ambled over to a little coffee shop in the lobby. I’m usually a little wary of hotel coffee, but as soon as I stepped in that coffee shop I felt a wave of peace wash over me.

The Lord is faithful and worthy to be praised.

Mel’s flight got in a couple of hours later, so I picked her up from the airport and we set out to find some lunch. We were both in the mood for some deeply nutritious fried seafood, so we headed to Deanie’s since it was just a couple of blocks from our hotel – and we knew we were in for a treat when they brought boiled red potatoes to our table. With butter.

Oh yes ma’am. Please and thank you. Amen.

I had the fried seafood platter from the lunch menu, and Melanie ordered a fried crawfish poboy that I PROMISE had at least 100 fried crawfish on it. When the food arrived at the table I immediately started channeling Martha (“You’ve never seen so many crawfish! You’ve just never seen! Have you ever seen? I MEAN, THE PORTIONS! SUCH LARGE PORTIONS! Mother and I could get four meals out of that one sandwich! Have you ever?”), and while everything was absolutely delicious I have to say that the hit of our meal was the barbecued shrimp that we ordered for an appetizer. I could’ve made a meal out of nothing but some French bread and the barbecue shrimp sauce. It was so good that it would make you stand up, slap your mama, sit down, then get up and slap your mama again. DADGUM.

After lunch we rested for a little while and then drove over to the arena. It was such a blast, and Friday night’s session really confirmed some things that I’ve been thinking about a lot over the last few months (Mel and I will both be recapping the conference this week over at AllAccess). But I do want to make sure I tell you this: I’ve sat under Beth Moore’s teaching several times in the last four or five years, but she has NEVER been funnier than she was this past weekend. OH MY WORD. Yes, the subject matter was deep, and yes, we were all up in the Word, but oh my goodness every single one of us who was there laughed our heads off. It was the most fun.

There’s so much more I want to share, but it’s getting late and you’re getting bored (I’M SORRY. THE FOOD WAS JUST SO GOOD THAT I NEEDED A LOT OF WORDS.) and I need to go to bed. So in conclusion I’ll just show you a picture of the muffaletta that I had on my way to the airport Saturday afternoon. It was only 1/2 sandwich, and I kid you not: IT WAS THE SIZE OF MY HEAD.

There was no way to eat it all. But part of me wanted to swaddle it in a blanket and rock it gently in my arms all the way back to Birmingham.

I didn’t, of course.

Because I think we all know that if I’m going to swaddle and rock any sort of fried meat sandwich, there’s going to be fried chicken involved.

And I will kiss it on its forehead, and I will name it Polly.

The end.

So right now it’s 7:07, and I’m sitting at my gate in the Birmingham airport waiting for a flight to New Orleans.

My flight leaves at 8:20, by the way. And I’ve been sitting here for about ten minutes. Which means that I arrived at my gate a full hour and twenty minutes before departure, or in other words: JUST LIKE I LIKE IT.

I have a thing about being rushed when I fly, and that thing is that I HATE IT. My husband, on the other hand, would be totally fine with wheeling into the parking garage 15 minutes before a flight and then having to jump on some high-speed golf cart in order to make it to the gate and then sprint down the jetway and then fall into his seat seconds before the plane’s door closes so that he could look at me, smile and say, “See? We made it!”

And then I wouldn’t say anything in return because if I did say something? WHITE-HOT FLAMES WOULD SHOOT OUT OF MY MOUTH.

Anyway. I’m here. And I keep looking over at the newstand because it’s not open yet and I need for it to be open because I don’t know how I can possibly read an Us Weekly on the plane if they don’t open that newstand gate and sell me one.

(I also see on the CNN Headline News that it’s Eddie Murphy’s birthday today.)

(HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EDDIE!)

By the way, the newstand just opened. One moment, please.

Okay. I bought an Us Weekly (“Reese’s Big Decision: HE’S THE ONE!”) and a Southern Living (“Celebrate with Our Best Easter Menu EVER!”). I’m in the process of making up with Southern Living, in case you were wondering, because I’ve decided that I simply cannot live without the recipes. And the photography. And the stories about the South. And I actually subscribed again a couple of weeks ago because we got a great offer in the mail and quite frankly my coffee table has been very, very lonely without the latest issues of SL to keep it company. I won’t get my first issue for about six weeks (hence the buying of the latest issue in the airport), but I imagine that when I go to my mailbox and pull out that first issue, the angels will sing and Peaches & Herb will play softly in the background.

Or maybe, you know, I’ll just pull the issue out of the mailbox and a someone will drive by and honk their horn really loud. There’s just no way of telling. But I much prefer the former scenario to the latter.

Happy weekend, y’all.

– This post of Antique Mommy’s makes my heart hurt in a whole host of bittersweet ways.

– If you’d like to win the DVDs that accompany Priscilla Shirer’s excellent Discerning The Voice of God Bible study, you can enter a giveaway over at AllAccess. The DVDs would be a huge blessing for your church or your Bible study group – no doubt about it.

– I have watched this episode of “30 Rock” at least eight times (it’s not for little eyes or ears – just FYI). It’s the funniest 22 minutes of television I’ve seen in a sweet forever, and since we don’t have new shows tonight, I’ll probably watch it for the ninth time. And laugh myself silly.

Several months ago I received an email from a faithful commenter named Angela, and her email contained a picture that made me laugh out loud. In fact, I’ve been meaning to tell you about it ever since it arrived in my inbox, but then I got sidetracked, and I’M SORRY, PEOPLE, I AM OBVIOUSLY “RUNNING BEHIND” ON MY “DEADLINES.”

Anyway.

Angela went to Japan about three years ago, and a boutique there caught her eye. So she took a picture. And back in the fall, she sent that picture to me.

It’s been months since I first saw this picture, and even now, I have no words.

No words.

Just deep, abiding joy in the center of my soul.

Edited to add – because I am a sucker for the clarity: I didn’t think this had anything to do with me or my silly blog. I just thought the shop name was funny and it made me so happy that someone who reads here took the time to snap a picture. That’s all. Now do carry on and have a lovely day.

A couple of months ago my friend Merritt flew in for an all-too-short visit. But since Merritt’s trip coincided with our friend Melissa’s birthday, Melissa and a couple of other friends – all from the days when we used to layer multiple pairs of colored socks before we put on our Reeboks – drove over from Mississippi. We had an absolute blast doing all sorts of fun things.

For example, we sat in my living room and laughed until we cried. Then we sat in my kitchen and laughed until we cried. Then we ordered take-out and laughed until we cried. And for kicks, just because we like to mix it up a little bit, we also drank coffee and laughed until we cried.

It was a good time.

Saturday night we decided that a little sushi was in order, so we headed down to my very favorite sushi place. For some reason the service was mind-numbingly slow, so we had plenty of time to read every single word on the menu. At some point in our reading Merritt got very tickled, and when I asked her what in the world was so funny, she pointed to her menu and said, “Look.”

I know the picture is blurry, so I’ll make it easy for you:

Donburi
A bowl of steamed rice with some other food put on top of it.

Y’all. We got so tickled.

Because here’s the thing: whoever wrote that menu isn’t trying to oversell anything, and I can’t even tell you how much I love that. There isn’t one ounce of pretense in that description. I mean, if you think about it, there’s really only so much you need to know when ordering food, and in this case the complete absence of flowery, descriptive language made me want to stand up, ask if I could see the person who wrote the menu, then start a slow clap that would gradually catch on from table to table until every single patron was on his or her feet, cheering wildly, and the whole restaurant basically resembled the final game in Hoosiers. I wanted to hoist the menu writer up to our shoulders, run into the parking lot, and high five until we couldn’t see straight. The whole nine yards.

Something about that menu description has stayed with me, and it’s provided all manner of amusement when I’m cooking supper every night – lest I get a little too big for my culinary britches. Pizza? Well, it’s really just a piece of dough with some other food put on top of it. Hamburgers? Two pieces of bread with some stuff in between. Chicken parmesan? A piece of chicken covered with some sauce and some cheese.

So. What are y’all having for supper tonight?

Because here? We’re having a plate of noodles with some other stuff put on top.

It is sure to be delicious.