There was a period of my life – back in my early twenty-something days – when the arrival of the weekend signaled the beginning of all sorts of activities. There were movies to see, bands to hear and parties to attend, and at these things called parties people would wear festive clothing and celebrate festive occasions like engagements and weddings and birthdays, not to mention the fact that hey! it is the weekend! and we are young! and it is time to enjoy ourselves! by participating in all the festiveness!

But now? On a Friday night? Nothing makes me happier to be in my pajamas by sundown. With some delicious take-out food by my side, an ice cold diet Coke on the coffee table and the DVR remote in my hand.

The times, they have a-changed.

The little man actually has a birthday party for a couple of his friends this afternoon, so I may not achieve my goal of pajamas-by-5. But I can’t even tell you how happy it makes me to announce that, aside from this afternoon’s birthday party and our usual Sunday morning routine, we do not have a single bloomin’ thing on our agenda this weekend. No special events, no commitments, no deadlines, no errands.

We’re just going to be AT HOME, and I for one could not be more excited. Especially because I just realized that this comes on CBS tonight, and OHMYWORD, I JUST ADORE HIM.

And also because there’s a State / Ole Miss basketball game tomorrow afternoon at 4, and I have big plans to sit (or stand. or pace. or vacuum. whatever it takes.) right here and watch the game on TV and scream “COME ON NOW, SON” and call my sister 74 times in the first half alone and maybe even ring my cowbell.

While eating chips and queso, of course.

So while this weekend won’t look even remotely like my twenty-something ideal, it’ll be quite festive just the same.

Because I’ll be in my house. With my people. Wearing my pj’s. Watching all manner of quality television programming.

And that’s some serious thirty-something perfection, my friends.

Hope y’all have a great weekend!

In an absolutely startling turn of bloggy events, Big Mama and I have somehow managed to convince the one and only Travis Cottrell to join us on our next podcast as Special Guest Star / Resident American Idol Expert.

We’re hoping this arrangement will last throughout the current AI season. Or until Travis gets completely sick of us. Whichever comes first.

My money’s on that second option, by the way.

Anyway, as we’ve been bandying about topics for next week’s podcast, it occurred to us – BECUZ WE IZ SMARTS – that there’s really not that much AI action to discuss right now. So Big Mama and I thought that it might be fun to ask Travis some questions from the internets, and so that, THAT IS OUR PLAN.

So. We have An Elaborate Question-Asking Procedure, a procedure we decided on because we don’t want the questions in our comments, because then Travis might read the questions ahead of time so that he can “prepare,” and HELLO, THAT IS CHEATING, MR. SINGER / SONGWRITER / WORSHIP LEADER MAN, BECAUSE THERE ARE NO “REHEARSALS” IN PODCAST LAND.

(I totally just rhymed that all-caps part, by the way. Perhaps Travis would like to use that portion of the previous paragraph in some sort of worshipful anthem. Preferably something that would be used during an altar call.)

Anyway, if you have a question for Travis, would you email Big Mama or me and let us know? If the Email Me link in the left sidebar doesn’t work for you and you don’t know my email address, then just leave a comment saying, “HELLO, BOOMAMA PERSON, I WANT TO EMAIL YOU BUT DON’T KNOW HOW,” and then I will email you to find out your question.

And it will be an absolutely delightful experience.

And we thank you in advance for your questions.

Now do have a lovely evening.

All righty, internets.

Since I have absolutely NOTHING to write about except for the fact that my husband is suffering from a man cold (hello, congested husband-of-mine! Happy Birthday! Alex and I are going to wrap up some decongestants for you right after we finishing making you a cake from cough drops!), I thought I’d elaborate on a topic Big Mama and I discussed in our last podcast and share a little of my search engine term joy with you.

And for those of you who have asked how I can tell what terms people are using to find my blog, it’s all because of the handy little WordPress blog stats plug-in. It tracks all the terms and keeps them in a lovely little list that’s organized by date. The actual search engine isn’t specified – so there’s no way to know if the search came from Google or Yahoo or MSN or wherever – but when you’re dealing with this kind of humor, who cares?

After all, this is some serious interweb treasure.

boomama, all.the. talking
boomama, the talking, talking
boomama, always talking

I think I should probably be offended.

I mean, I know brevity is not my gift, but still.

After all, I am quiet for SEVERAL WHOLE MINUTES a day.

is it okay to use cream cheese from may

I’m going to go out on a limb and say no. Because that would mean your cream cheese is about eight months old.

And really, when you’re dealing with processed dairy items, you can never be too careful.

I are test you for internets. (OH NOSE)

Come again? (OH EYES)

don’t y’all love paula

You know, I do love her. To pieces. I just love her to pieces.

bangs scrunchies tight-roll jeans

No.

Just say no.

listen to Cici Winans

OKAY!

a picture of santa under a tree

Unfortunately, I don’t have a picture of Santa under a tree.

However, I do have this.

You’re welcome.

Can Ash Wednesday be shifted?

You know, I think you’ll probably have to take up that particular question with God.

I’m sure He’ll be absolutely delighted to hear from you.

how long is bacon fat good for?

I have no idea, but judging from this question, I think you and I may be related.

I have medium blonde hair. I colored it

ME, TOO!

You’re going to be right at home here.

sneakers you going to feel pain

I’m certain that sneakers across the world just cowered in fear.

And they probably made a phone call to their tough and rugged boot friends.

Consider yourself warned, trash talker.

Consider yourself warned.

rap for my friend Brianna

Well.

Um.

Okay.

If you insist.

This rap is for Brianna, and I’m here to say
That rap is not my thang on the best of days.
Plus Brianna is a stranger and I think you know
That it’s hard to kick it freestyle so I guess I’ll go
And eat some more fried chicken, drink a diet Coke.
‘Cause you know I love some food and that ain’t no joke.
Yo, Brianna. Yo yo, Brianna.
Yo, Brianna. Yo yo, Brianna.
Never change.

Word.

If a podcast hosting company has a button on their website that says “upload file,” it would be terribly helpful if said button actually worked.

Because while it’s been a big, kick-in-the-pants carnival to click that little button approximately sixteen times without ANY UPLOADING HAPPENING WHATSOEVER, EVEN AFTER SOME LENGTHY WAITING, I’m afraid that I’m developing some trust issues with the button. And I fear my resentment is becoming somewhat unhealthy.

Also.

Last night the husband and I helped with something at our church, and our biggest responsibility was to pick up and set up all the food.

At one point there were six large trays of fried chicken tenders in our possession. Enough chicken tenders for approximately 200 people.

And seeing those trays stacked one on top of the other before we put the food on the tables? It was a veritable fountain of fried chicken, a fountain pouring forth with some of the finest breaded-then-submerged-in-hot-oil poultry that these eyes have ever seen.

I was moved almost to the point of tears.

And I would say that it was “a tender time,” only I think that’s a little too pun-tastic even for me.

Finally.

If your four year-old ever makes the proclamation that he would like to go to “big church” on a Sunday morning, I would just like to encourage you to make sure that you have a lot of tissues with you.

Just in case the four year-old lets loose with a monster sneeze that results in you, the mother, gently cupping strange nasal substances in the palm of your hand, thereby causing the single, oh-so-fashionable 20-somethings sitting behind you to shudder and gasp audibly.

And leaving you at the mercy of the kind lady two seats down who quickly passes you some napkins from the Burger King.

Humility. It is the ongoing order of the parenting day.

Here’s the view into our backyard at 10:30 this morning.

You should also know that, when the ABC station here leads-in to the SPECIAL WINTER WEATHER EVENT NEWSCAST (we have non-stop coverage, my friends), the ALABAMA FREEZE graphic shakes back and forth.

Because apparently even the graphic is so cold that it’s trembling.

I love the South.

Today was chock-full-o-to-do-list goodness, and once the to-do list was finally finished late this afternoon, I had the distinct privilege of playing both SORRY! and Go Fish with the four year-old.

Which reminds me. You know those parents? The parents who can’t bear to let their children lose at games?

I am SO not one of those parents. I will use my SORRY! card and bump one of the little man’s gamepieces back to home in a red hot minute. Doesn’t matter to me if he’s four or forty. I mean, if you can’t take the board game heat, then you should probably just get out of the, um, you know, board game kitchen.

As you can tell, I spend my spare time writing clever trash-talking phrases. Because saying “GET OUT OF THE BOARD GAME KITCHEN” is sure to incite fear in the hearts of your board game opponents.

Just be sure to snap your fingers in the air after you say it.

Anyhoo.

I do have a few announcements that I would like to share, only now all I can think of is “If you can’t take the announcements heat, then get out of the announcements kitchen,” and OH SWEET MERCY MAKE IT STOP BECAUSE CLEARLY I CANNOT.

1. Today I ate lunch at a place called Newk’s. It was utterly delightful. I ordered the broccoli cheese soup, and IT. WAS. DIVINE. Even better is that you get a big huge bowl of it, not some little wimpy little shallow plate that’s imitating a bowl.

Because as a very wise person once said: if you can’t take the big bowl heat, then get out of…oh, never mind.

I’m wearing myself out.

But still. I was delighted by the Newk’s. And it looks like all you Nashville-area people are about to get a couple of them, so I encourage you to check out the Newk’s, not that I have any vested interest in it other than the fact that I am a fan of food.

Not to mention eating.

2. The Mercy Me guys have a blog now. It is almost brand new. Still shiny, in fact. You can check it out here. And you can leave comments and stuff, too, so you will totally be their BFF’s 4EVER within minutes of your arrival (link via Shaun and Kat).

3. It is supposed to snow here this weekend. The weather people are predicting anywhere from one to four inches, which means that approximately six flakes will hit our driveway around 2:48 Saturday morning.

We are beside ourselves with anticipation.