Five for Friday: My 5 Favorite Christmas Movies

It’s that time of year again.  My house has so many lights that Clark himself would be jealous;  everything smells of evergreen; and the my playlists normally dedicated to rock start to give way to a bit of holiday cheesiness.  Everything about Christmas is wonderful, but without a doubt, one of the very best things about the holiday season is Christmas movies.  Here are my top five that must be watched each December.


The 5 Best Christmas Films of All Time (according to me)

Number 5:  National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (1989)

This one is near and dear to my heart,  because I can totally relate to Clark on the light obsession.  It’s never enough.  Ever.  Each year I just keep buying more and more lights.  I’ve been eyeballing the house that went all out for Halloween each time I drive through the neighborhood.  I told Matt, “Don’t think I won’t just keep running out to Home Depot every time they put more up.”  I’m throwing down the gauntlet people.  They WILL NOT outdo us!


Number 4:  Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964)

My favorite of the Christmas Classics.  I love his little squeeky nose.  I love Hermey.  I love Yukon Cornelius.  Hell, I even love the Abominable Snow Man.  This one takes me right back to being a kiddo.


Number 3:  A Christmas Story (1983)

You know why Ted Turner plays this thing for 24 hours straight?  Because we’ll watch it for all 24 hours.  I just turn on the TV and let it cycle over and over.  Somehow I always see to walk in on the part where the dogs are stealing the turkey.

You really can’t pick one best scene from this festive gem.  Don’t even try.


Number 2:  Home Alone (1990)

Keep the change, ya filthy animal!  This one ranks number one on my Mom’s list.  She’s obsessed with this little prankster.  I tend to cry at least every other showing because of the old man and his grand daughter.  Old people and animals, they get me every time.


Another connection to this film,  I’ve had far too many people to count say to me, “Has anyone ever told you that you look like the Mom from Home Alone?”  Yes, yes they have.  Maybe I should do a list of the 5 “hey you look like’s” I’ve gotten over the years.  I always fail to see the connection.

Are you ready for #1?!  What could it be?  Surely it is something on everyone’s top 3, right?  An obvious classic?


Number 1:  Gremlins (1984)

Yeah, I see that your jaw just dropped and some of you are shaking your heads.  But this is my #1 folks!  Matt will argue for the rest of our lives that this isn’t a Christmas movie, but I say, hell yes it is!

Does it take place at Christmas?  Yep.


Are Christmas and Christmas related accessories apparent throughout the movie? Uh-huh.


Is there Christmas music?  Sure is.


This is also on my list of top 80s flicks.  I’ve blogged about it before in 5 Things 80s Movies Taught Me About Life.

Christmas. Have a nice flight Mrs. Deagle.


Honorable Mentions:

Scrooged (1988)

A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965)

Santa Claus is Coming to Town (1970)


What are your faves?


Stay positive & love your life!






The Original Catfish

Here’s the final of my reposts from my old writing home, Lefty Pop.  So long Lefty Pop.  I bid you one final adieu! 

Ahh Catfish, I just can’t quit you.  I feel the need to place myself in the ultimate voyeur seat (my couch) and watch weekly as person after person is shocked that people pretend to be someone other than themselves on the the internet.   It’s like watching a wreck in slow motion, you know it’s going to end badly and it’s going to be painful to watch, but you just can’t look away.

Catfish airs weekly on MTV and is the brainchild of Nev Schulman.  Nev originally presented his first story of catfishing (he was the victim) in his hit documentary of the same title.  Each week we get a chance to peer in the lives of a “couple” existing almost entirely via text messages and IM.  Sometimes there is an occasional phone call (gasp, what primitive technology), but very seldom is there any face-to-face, real time correspondence (via Skype or Facetime).  So, inevitably what you end up with is one authentic person and one catfish.  Catfish recently made it into the Merriam-Webster Dictionary and is defined as:  a person who sets up a false social networking profile for deceptive purposes.

But the concept of catfishing has been around a lot longer than Facebook, Twitter, or even Myspace.  The Bible is full of deception, especially the female variety.  Shakespeare was using the power of deception back in the 1500s (see Much Ado About Nothing). And modern cinema loves this story line.  Check out some of my favorite fictional characters who started relationships hiding behind a facade.


The Truth About Cats and Dogs (1996)

The not so conventionally beautiful, yet quite smart, Abby (Janeane Garofalo) convinces the very pretty, but not bright, Noelle (Uma Thurman) to pretend to be her to win the affections of a guy.  Love triangle and high-jinx ensue.  As is the case with most 90s rom-coms, a happy ending full of quirk and nonsense is inevitable.  In this case, a dog shows up at Abby’s work with a bag containing roller skates which she dons and is then taken via dog leash on a ride through the park to her soul mate.



There’s Something About Mary (1998)

Ted embarrasses himself during a prom pick-up when his junk gets stuck in his zipper and misses out on the girl of his dreams, Mary.  Years later he decides she’s the one that got away and goes after her.  Too bad she has a host of other not so honest suitors.  There’s the PI Ted hired, Healy, who lies, cheats, stalks, and even drugs a dog to be close to Mary.  Then there is the British, disabled Tucker who turns out to be an able-bodied American pizza delivery boy.  And finally there is Dom who exposes Ted’s whole involvement in the messy plot, but then turns out to be Mary’s weirdo ex Woogie who “got weird on her” back in high school and stole all her shoes.  Faced with all these wonderful choices in suitors, Mary chooses Ted.  Shocker, happy ending.


Babe (1995)

“That pig thinks it’s a dog.”  Ultimately Babe the pig’s dog-like skills and sheep herding performances keep him out of the frying pan as he forges a relationship with the farmer.  So, again, happy ending.





And who are your favorite pop culture catfish?

An Open Letter to Parents

This post originally appeared over at Lefty Pop.  But it’s a PSA which warrants repeating.


Dear Parenting Dynamo,

I’m not sure if you’re aware of this or not, but there are other people who must share this planet with you and your offspring.  We are walking on the same sidewalks, shopping in the same stores, and standing in the same lines.  And while little Brently’s unruliness may be cute to just slightly annoying to you, trust me, it’s damn near unbearable for others.


Hey, can you get off your phone for a quick sec?  Over here, good, now focus for a moment.  You see your daughter over there?  She’s shoving through people like a running back.  I’m pretty sure that lady over there just winced in pain as she stamped on her sandled foot.  And her high-pitched caterwauling is interrupting that couple’s quiet conversation.  And…..yep, you’re back to texting as your hellions run wild.

It makes sense to me now, really it does.  How would your child possibly have learned manners with you as a parent?  You clearly never learned to use your inside voice either.  This line here, it’s here for a reason.  You don’t have some sort of super privilege that allows you direct access to the front.  But thanks for passing on that lack of situational awareness to your spawn as well.  He’s all set to piss off the next generation of manner equipped citizens.

Do not  touch.  Maybe he can’t read yet or maybe he thinks the rules don’t apply to him, but either way, your young-in damn near just pulled that exhibit down.  And while I wouldn’t mind watching him get a good scolding from a staff member,  I’m sure it somehow would have been the fault of the aquarium and not your angel.  After all, accountability is taught, and well, you clearly aren’t one for giving lessons.

If it were just you, I’d probably be ok with your lack of actual parenting.  But you’re not alone.  There are now dozens of distracted and entitled guardians roaming about these days.  You’re inflicting your shoddy parenting and basic life skills on us all.  I gotta be honest, I can’t stand your kid.  But after seeing his role model, I totally despise you.


Heading into this bar for a beer.


PS (for my readers)- Before I get the “you don’t have kids, you don’t understand” hate mail, let me say I write this as a former kid myself.  Yep, I’m completely qualified to make the statements above because I know an alternative exists. As a child, I knew how to act when I went out in public.  I knew how respect others.  I knew better.   Less Candy Crush and more parenting please.


Love is Love


26 days. In 26 days I marry the love of my life and perfect match. Right now I’m a bundle of giddiness, excitement, anxiety (putting on a wedding is an insane undertaking), and warm fuzzies. This experience from moment one has truly been magical. Love does that to you. It touches every aspect of your life and makes it better. Way better. The funny thing about true love is that it catches you by surprise. You’re not looking for it and then bam, slap to the face. It’s a real wakeup call. It’s like someone comes along and shakes the cobwebs from your mind and shows you what life should really be like.

Not to discount previous relationships, but this is just, different. It’s like Digiorno compared to your favorite pizza spot (you can tell I’m writing this at lunch). Both are good. Both will get you through, satisfy your need for sustenance. But only one is what you truly wanted. Only one will you rave about to all of your friends. And the funny thing is if you’d only eaten frozen pizza all your life, you’d believe that was the be all and end all of pizza. Then one night your friends take you to Antico and you think, “Okay, this is pizza! I’m not sure what that other stuff was. This is the real deal. I want to eat this for the rest of my life.” Enough with the pizza. I think I’ve made my point. I’m in love.

Here’s the crazy part, I’d written off marriage. I’m not sure I even believed in it. In my mind it added nothing to the equation; it didn’t change the commitment. I was the one spouting off rhetoric about it being an outdated practice and a broken system. Then true love happened. And suddenly it was all I could think about. I wanted this man in my life forever. I wanted others to realize how serious we are. I wanted my love to be certified! And here’s where a nagging thought entered my mind. It started out as a passing, “ugh, jeez, that really sucks” and grew into moments of tearing up and getting seriously pissed. My thought was this, my best friend can’t experience this; at least not in the way I can. And guess what, he’s there. He’s right there with me on this wonderfully amazing emotional roller coaster. He loves his boyfriend. I mean loves, like head tilts and shrugs, like aches with distance, like the completion of a puzzle. He’s in it. He’s found the one. This guy, he’s amazing. He makes my best friend so happy. He levels out his anxiety. He makes him listen to 90s rock (awesome). He is the one my best friend deserves. Too bad they live in Tennessee. Too bad when that magic moment arrives they can’t even choose to get married where they’ve built their lives. Too bad this, the most important moment of their lives, can’t be spent at home.

Imagine that, because I have, over and over again over the last few months. I’ve always been pro-equality. Love is love. Everyone deserves to feel this way. Everyone deserves to have their love recognized, accepted, validated. Because yes, their love is not minimized in their minds by this bigotry, but it deserves to be celebrated! Brett deserves to haggle with caterers and florists. He deserves to pick colors and handle seating arrangements. He deserves his moment of bliss that launches a lifetime of happiness. And he deserves to do it wherever he damn well pleases WITH a legally recognized marriage license in hand.

Brett will be there by my side in 26 days when I take my stroll down the aisle. Bradley will be there looking on as his future husband likely cries while he watches his best friend get married. I want nothing more than to blubber on his special day. It sucks that that will mean traveling to one of the 19 states that have finally come to their senses. Now that’s some serious food for thought.


Autumn Amore’

This post originally appeared on Lefty Pop’s site.  My, my, my do I miss my politically charged brothers and sisters.

Fall is upon us and I have to tell ya, I couldn’t be any freaking happier.  This is the time of year I live for.  Spring is great and all, summer means days spent by the pool, and winter, well winter sucks except for Christmas.  But Fall, glorious Fall is always welcomed with a smile and a hoodie laden hug.  Why is it so superior to any other season?  Peruse the list below and prepare to profess your Autumn amore.


The weather, naturally.

The air gets a little crisp and it’s just chilly enough to break out a hoodie even if you wear it with a pair of shorts.  My hair chills the eff out and behaves; no more frizzies or sweaty hair stuck to my neck.  My t-zone doesn’t look like a BP disaster.  And being outside is no longer tolerable, it’s desirable.  In fact, I find myself looking for a reason to be outside and just, well, be outside.


So I’m not really “into” football.  I dig supporting a team and I do pseudo enjoy watching. But what I really love is the trappings of football:   beer, sports bars, parties, finger foods, and a damn good excuse to be outside.  There’s only one thing that can ruin this love – the evil that is fantasy football.  Dear God, make it stop.  Football gets old after watching every game, every game highlight, every game commentary session, and then all of the shows dedicated to kicking ass at fantasy football.  With that much effort, you should just start a football league and I don’t know, actually play football.

Pumpkin everything.

Who would have thunk that pumpkin would be the new bacon?  It’s gone far beyond the coveted Starbucks latte and a few basic candles.  Now it’s in everything.  Hersey Kisses, beer, donuts.  Shit, there’s probably someone making a bacon wrapped, pumpkin spice something at this moment.  And guess what?  I love it all!  It seems like you can never have too much pumpkin, but we may want to chill out a bit before this thing jumps the shark.  I went to Bath and Body Works yesterday and there were no less than 15 different types of pumpkin candle.  And that’s on top of the 10 Fall varieties.  I only bought a few…dozen.


I love a backyard fire more than almost any other option for a Friday or Saturday night.  In fact, I love them so much that I had one during the summer.  It was like sitting in a sweat lodge and I ended up having to bring the mop bucket out to douse it, but I was ready and I wasn’t going to let a little 85 degree weather stand in my way.  I have my fire pit cleaned and ready and a box of duraflames stocked.  Now I just need to add beers and buds.


Costumes, candy, and all things spooky.  I love it all.  Give me a bowl of candy corn and throw on a horror movie marathon.  I’ll never be too old to rock a great costume.


Oh look at all the beautiful red and orange and yellow!  Wait, now they’re just covering my deck.  Get the leaf blower!  There, that’s better.  Just going to grab a drink from the house real quick.  Damn it, my deck is covered in leaves again.  Get the leaf blower!  Maybe the leaves actually belong in the Autumn ‘con’ column.

I know this Fall fantasy world won’t last.  Soon we’ll be facing another snowpacolypse and freezing our faces off.  But right now, it’s perfect.  So meet me ’round the campfire.  We’ll don our hoodies, share a pumpkin beer,  discuss your fantasy football strategy (I’ll convince you I’m listening), and we can workshop your Halloween costume ideas.

Happy Fall y’all!



Karate Kid and Its Life Lessons Turn 30

Here’s a post that originally appeared on Lefty Pop back in June.  Given the life lessons to be learned from 80s gems such as Karate Kid, I thought it prudent to post it here as well.  So read on and remember, “You’re the best around.  Nothing’s ever gonna keep you down.”

In a continuing effort to shove me into old age, time insists on marching on.  Everyday some relic of my childhood hits a milestone and I’m forced to think, “Holy shit, I guess that was X years ago.”  Today’s ‘aha moment’ of aging is brought to me courtesy of LaRusso and Miyage.  That’s right, Karate Kid just turned 30.

Released in 1984, Karate Kid was a commercial success.  It even earned Noriyuki “Pat’ Morita an Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor.  It spawned a franchise that resulted in two sequels; unfortunately leading to a spin-off (The Next Karate Kid, 1994, with Hillary Swank) and then an unoriginal reboot (The Karate Kid, 2010, with Jaden “I’m only famous cause of my dad” Smith).  But the most important impact it made wasn’t at the box office, it was in the living rooms of 80s kids across the country.  While Daniel-san was learning karate, we were learning some important life lessons.

Sometimes assholes learn their lessons and change.

Johnny and his Cobra Kai chums really made Daniel’s experience as the new kid on the block a living hell. I mean, Daniel did kind of put the moves on his ex-girlfriend, but kicking his ass in front of the entire dojo and chasing him dressed as a skeleton seems a little harsh.  Johnny is a world-class bully.  But eventually, after receiving a crane kick to the chin, he admits defeat and declares ” “You’re all right, LaRusso! Good match!”  Even he wasn’t buying the no mercy bit at this point.

Manual labor builds character.

Having obligated him to a karate tournament against Cobra Kai in two months, Daniel assumes Mr. Miyagi is going to instantly jump into teaching him all of his awesome karate secrets.  Nope.  Apparently the secret to kicking-ass is doing all of Miyagi’s chores.  Wax-on, wax-off.  Wax-on, wax-off.  Bam, muscle memory!  While I don’t buy that Daniel’s YMCA level skills were instantly transformed by his Miyagi slavedom, the message of hard-work preceding success is a great lesson.

Do or do not.  There is no try.

Technically, Yoda taught us this lesson.  But Miyagi echoes it.  You must commit to something to be great. “Walk on road, hm? Walk left side, safe. Walk right side, safe. Walk middle, sooner or later [squish gesture] get squish just like grape.”

Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.

“Get him a body bag! Yeah!”   It’s always embarrassing to lose after talking smack.  You look like an idiot Tommy.

Never let fear keep you from trying.

Don’t let fear of the unknown stop you from trying.  “It’s okay to lose to an opponent.  It’s never okay to lose to fear.”

Never, ever give up.

During the tournament finals, Johnny is delivering a major beating upon Daniel.  It seems that all hope is lost.  Clearly he is outmatched.  When we hear sensei scream, “Sweep the leg!”, we hang our heads confident that LaRusso has failed.  But we’d forgotten about the crane.  Daniel musters his last bit of strength, somehow hypnotizes Johnny in his attempts to balance, and delivers a tournament ending, Cobra Kai face kick.  After witnessing this moment, I proceeded to don my USA Gold Medal replica (found in a box of Wheates) and perform karate moves all over the house.  He did it!  He won!

A theme song can make everything better.

Oh, the 80s and their theme songs.  You can’t present a montage without one.  And Karate Kid had one of the best….around.  Thanks Joe Esposito.

Marriage is Work & Other Wedding Faux Pas

It’s been just over a month since my wedding day.  I’m still in the process of changing my name (what a royal pain), getting thank-you notes out, and  figuring out how to hang framed pictures in my house without making it look like a shrine to me and Matt.  It’s crazy how quickly time speeds by.  Months spent planning gone in a blink and soon I’ll be celebrating my 1st anniversary and then my 50th.

I thought of spending this post in yet another moment of awe at just how amazing my wedding was, you know, pics and gushings and hopes of expectant brides just wishing they could get it that right.  Who knows, maybe I’ll still do that later.  But I need to come up for air and toss the proverbial bouquet.  What better way to send this precious moment off than by helping all mankind; a PSA of sorts to pave a brighter future for all those brides to be.

RSVP?  What’s that?

Color me shocked and amazed that I travel in a circle of folks who don’t do well with deadlines.  I get it, the cut-off date slipped your mind.    I can certainly understand that you may not have a stamp or want to fill in my address, so I did that for you.  Or maybe making that little check mark next to yes or no was just, well, too much.  So I am forced to hunt you down and demand an answer.  It’s starting to feel like maybe you don’t give a shit and my ego is awfully bruised.

Confession time, I’ve been this person.  Once.  And guess what, never again.  I now fully understand that RSVP isn’t a request, it’s a demand.  Don’t let the fancy French please fool you, those cards hold the entire balance of the wedding on their paper sharp edges.  Try dealing with vendors and setting a final budget when you don’t know if 50 or 250 people are showing up.

Your Yes = $.

You know how you said “OMG, can’t wait.  Super excited my plus one and I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”?  Well that and the yes you checked caused me to put you in the attending column complete with your drinks and food and location overage costs and cake and….expectations of seeing your smiling faces.  I get that emergencies happen.  Sickness, car issues, and apparently  work issues plagued the universe that fateful weekend of the 14th.  But what of the folks who just didn’t bother to show or text or send a carrier pigeon offering apology for their no show?  That I don’t get.

Lesson- If you say yes, show up.  Or send some offering to excuse your absence.  Beer never hurts.  Neither does a hand written letter.  If you can’t come, say no.  It’s totally cool.  But you should still send beer.

Marriage is Work.

So the first two are just some shocking revelations that, had I really thought ahead about the nature of people, really aren’t so surprising.  I rant; I feel better; I pay the credit card off;  I move on.  This last one completely blind sided me.

“Phew! Let me just say, it’s a lot of hard work and a great deal of compromise!”

“I am SO happy you couldn’t be happier.  I felt so happy the first morning I woke up after being married to [name withheld]….things change.  LOL  Just kidding, but not really…”

“Marriage is hard.  Like really, really hard.  Sometimes you’ll wonder what the hell you were thinking.”

“Good luck.  You’ll need it.”

These are things people actually said to me either in their congratulatory messages or upon hearing I got married.  For real.  I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard, “marriage is work”.

First, how is this a message you think a newly wed wants to hear?  Unless you’re that married couple of 50 years from whom I’m soliciting a nugget of advice, a congrats, so happy for you, will suffice.  I mean, imagine this in any other circumstance:

New baby:  “Oh, he’s so cute.  Too bad you’ll end up hating him for large stretches of time.  Enjoy the next 18 years.  Congrats.”  or “Get ready for shitty diapers, puke, and constant crying.  Babies pretty much suck.  So happy for you.”

Birthday:  “You’re one step closer to the grave.  Seriously, you look like crap.  When did you get so many wrinkles.  Oh well, it only gets worse.  Enjoy your special day.”

New Home:  “Lovely place.  Hopefully you don’t lose your job and go into foreclosure.  Can I get a tour?”

New Job:  “Good luck.  You know most people don’t stick around a company for more than a few years and tons probably get fired in their first 90 days.  Fingers crossed that doesn’t happen to you.”

Also, no shit Sherlock.  Life is work.  Actually, I think it is more accurate to say marriage, life, a career or anything worth having takes EFFORT.  It’s a big distinction.  Work implies forced behavior; something you do begrudgingly.  Something you really shouldn’t have to do, but, well I guess since the universe decided you should be born not into royalty but a mere commoner, you’ll just have to deal with.  Pick the right career, hobby, partner–something/someone who truly matters in your life for more than a fleeting moment–and suddenly you may actually want to make an effort.  And that effort makes all the difference.  More effort may yield you less work.  Just a thought…

OK- dear readers, my lunch is finished and my rant is through.  Hopefully you’ve all learned something today.  Because knowledge really is power.  Feel free to share this PSA with those in your circle who are less endowed in the manners’ department.  You may just save someone some grief…or at least keep a friend from being the subject of blogging fodder from a small time writer wanna be.


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Listening to:

We Were Promised Jetpacks – Unravelling

A Very Crafty Wedding: The One Where I Thank Friends & Family

No need to double check your computer screen, yes, it is indeed I.  With a blog post.  On my actual blog.  I tell ya, the second half of 2014 is really shaping up to be a doozy.  Between starting my own business and getting married, I must admit that, as the kids say, the struggle is real!  My days disappear and it seems like there is never enough time to get to the bottom of my to-do list; mostly because shit just keeps piling on every time I blink.  So things like writing, reading, and essentially anything else relegated to the dreaded “hobby” category has struggled.

And here I find myself on the cusp on October.  The wedding was over two weeks ago and it feels like just yesterday.  I knew I wanted to write this post months ago when I started planning.  I knew I’d  need something to actually close the door behind the wedding.  And while I still have some thank-you cards to mail out, it is time that I actually admit, I’m no longer a bride, I’m a wife.  Being a wife is pretty rad (especially with an incredible hubby), but I have to admit that I’m going to miss looking forward to my “special day”.  I’m going to miss planning and chatting and dreaming.  I’m going to miss conversations with my mom and friends that are literally all wedding, all the time.  Count yourselves lucky dear readers that I haven’t had time to write.  Because this blog would have looked like Pinterest purged itself all up in here!  I’m going to miss spending ridiculous sums of money.  Wait, that last one is a lie, and besides, I can’t miss it when I’ll still be paying for those four blissful hours over the next several months.

So good-bye wedding!  You were awesome.  I bid you adieu with part one of my wedding highlight countdown.  And I start with the biggest highlight of all besides the wonderful man I married:  my friends and family.

My friends and family seriously rock.

So you’re convinced you have good friends huh?  And you’d swear your folks were the bomb?  Well they’ve got nothing on mine.  Check it:

Kasi (aka bestie #1, the bossy one, knows her role):  She flew in from NOLA and just said, “I got this.”  Need someone to make sure you don’t pass out cause you forgot to eat?  Again?  Yeah, done.  I was tranported back to being a kid as she coaxed, “just a few more bites.”  Need someone to kick the party out so you can get some sleep?  She’ll be sweeping folks out with a broom.  She knew her role was to mitigate my stress.  No telling how many issues popped up that I still don’t even know about.

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Bee (aka bestie #2, gay #1, power cleaner and other roles):  Oh, you like my bouquet?  Yeah, this dude made it with his bare hands and his creative-ass mind.  Boutonnieres?  Them too.  One hour before people arrived at my house for rehearsal dinner he was Dysoning the house like a mad man.  Before he mopped.  Did the house need it?  No, but he knows his best friend is a nut case when it comes to her house.

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Jim (aka bestie #3, gay #2, brunch coordinator jones, florist):  Spend $2000+ on a florist?  Why?  I spent $200 and my flowers looked like a divine hand crafted each arrangement.  Because it did.  Jim’s hand.  He’s also responsible for making sure I had a good cry the night before to “get it all out”.  Asshole.  His GoPro skills still need some work, but his hosting skills are top notch.

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Bradley (aka Bee’s boyfriend, gay #3, moving up the ranks to bestie status, fan scrubber, grocery getter):  Bradley just got shit done.  I didn’t even ask, things just happened.  Lots of things.  I can’t even list them because they were just happening, all the time, all weekend.  If he were trying to butter me up to ask for Bee’s hand in marriage, it worked.  Pretty sure that’s like a thing, asking the best fruit fly’s permission, right?

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Nelson (aka my new brother, the Matt chiller-outer, the Gator cusser):  I didn’t have to worry about keeping up with Matt all weekend (not that I would), because Nelson was right by his side.  He helped him cuss the Gators.  He helped him drink lots of beer.  He made sure of the some other stuff too.  I think.  Oh, he brought Growlers of some great beer from AL.  Easiest way into my heart.

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My brother Dustin & my sister-in-law Brooke (aka partners in beer, packers of baskets):  Brooke made sure I toasted the morning of in style with some mimosas.  Dustin lifted heavy stuff with his big man arms.  And they both made sure Matt and I left with at least a bit of wedding food.  It’s true, you really don’t have time to eat at your own wedding!

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My cousins Molly & Brien and their daughter Savannah (aka the diva wagon, travel agents, charm wranglers):  These guys made sure I had the cutest flower girl in the history of weddings.  Check history.  It’s true.  Brien hooked up a sweet hotel.  And they carted my great aunt and uncle to ATL to join the weekend long party.  Awesome.

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My friend Kristie and her son Grady (aka dragon slayer):  One, let it be noted that Kristie was on time for 3 events on 3 consecutive days.  That’s a life record.  Thanks lady.  She also ensured that Grady made sure he was extra adorable and defended me against any and all dragons lurking around the wedding.

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My officiant Jonathan (aka my work bud, Napolean Dynomite with a law degree):  I wanted someone close to my growth over the last few years to do the honors.  J-Hill stepped up, got ordained, and made it all legal.  Bonus points for reading my ceremony as written, Huey Lewis lyrics and all.

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Full Service (aka the jams, supplier of sick beats, my #1 choice for my wedding day tunes):  I can’t say enough to express how very excited I was to have these guys play.  I’ll have a bit more to say about their awesomeness in part two of my countdown.

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Kim (aka magic hair godess, black eye-liner rocker, braider extraordinaire):  I asked for Game of Thrones hair and she delivered.  My hair looked EXACTLY like I imagined it.

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Danielle (aka the Sparkle and the Glam):  She somehow got a girl who doesn’t wear a lot of makeup to wear a lot of makeup without looking like a drag queen.  In my mind, that’s magic.

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Last, but certainly not least, our parents:  Mom, Dad, Susan, and Dennis you all made our day everything we dreamed it would be.  Your love, support and encouragement was the perfect fit!  And Mom, your crochet skills are on point!

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Family and friends traveling from far and wide:  you’re the best!  You took tons of pictures (Aunt Debi).  You provided moonshine and encouraged shots, shots, shots (Uncle Ray, James and Amelia).  You made the trip solo (Crystal, Ben, and Roger)! You provided sisterly bonds and smiles (Karen, Elizabeth, and Cay).  You showed up nearly two hours early by accident (Lisa, Tony, Brad, and Nate)!  You rocked out a softball cheer (Elle Wood, MJ, Paul, Claire, Shikha, Roger, Dustin, Dustin, Tony).  You hopped on a flight from St. Louis with your lovely wives (Brad and Andrew).  You surprised me with a shower and a kegerator (my work family).  And to everyone I didn’t mention by name,  you all are awesome, every single one.

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More wedding madness soon!  Come back and join me in saying goodbye!

Stay positive & love your life.



Listening to:  Foo Fighters – Best Of You

Eating:  Quesadillas

Random thought:  How do I shave 7+ miles off my work commute and it still takes just as long?  ATL is a traffic black hole.

The Ignorance is Becoming Painful

This is my post from Thursday over at Lefty Pop.  I write there twice a week (Monday at 9 am & Thursday at 5 pm).  You should go visit and check out some of the other writes that form our funky group.  Good stuff.


It’s been a doozy folks. It seems like there is never a shortage of stupid in the world. This week I bring you three thoughts guaranteed to make your brain cells want to curl up and die. Sadly, you can’t make this shit up.  Get ready to facepalm your way through the sheer ignorance.

“So family government precedes civil government and you watch that as colonists came to America, they voted by families. And you have to remember back then, husband and wife, I mean the two were considered one. That is the biblical precept… That is a family, that is voting. And so the head of the family is traditionally considered to be the husband and even biblically still continues to be so.”

The owner of this little gem is none other than David Barton. Barton is the founder of Wallbuilders, an organization that seeks to destroy the separation of church of state. He’s also a self-professed “historian” and is besties with Glenn Beck. I know, shocker. Let me get my ass off of the web and back in the kitchen. I’m sure my man needs a sandwich. Facepalm.


“I think it’s a good idea to designate the mammoth as the state fossil, I don’t have a problem with that. I just felt like it’d be a good thing to acknowledge the creator of the fossils.”

This intelligent dialogue belongs to Senator Kevin Bryant (R), SC. It’s a proposed change to two bills seeking to make the SC state fossil the Columbian Mammoth. Because clearly anything written into law must give a nod to creationism. Why is religion entering into the naming of a state fossil? Because Senator Mike Fair (R) blocked the bill. Fair is the guy who also blocked funding for a rape crisis center, thinks climate change is a ploy, and blocked evolution from the state science standards saying,

 “I don’t have a problem with teaching theories. I don’t think it should be taught as fact.”

Because science without Jesus is just….science. Sorry Olivia McConnel (the eight year-old girl who proposed the bill), no state fossil for you. Now, go play house and quit worrying your pretty little self with things like knowledge. Your husband will take care of all of that.  Facepalm.


“Democrats bragging about the number of mandatory sign ups for Obamacare is like Germans bragging about the number of manditory sign ups for ‘train rides’ for Jews in the 40s.”

Yes, TN Senator Stacey Campfield (R) spelled the word mandatory incorrectly AND compared Obamacare to the Holocaust. Short of oh, I don’t know, another actual instance of genocide, Holocaust comparisons are off limits. Good thing this follow-up statement made things all better.

“I like ice cream, mom, apple pie and puppies. This message has been approved by my campaign staff.”

All better, carry on Holocaust survivors.  Nothing to see here. Facepalm.




Lily Ellyn

Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.

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words are just breadcrumbs to get us back to where we're from

Thought Catalog

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Matthew Fray

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Crazy is relative. Just ask my relatives. And music!