Rain On Pavement

Do you ever have random memories of a particular day and time that never leave you?

I have one day that seriously haunts me, and it's nothing special. But, it happened as a I drove down a certain road in my town; a road that I still drive down every single day. And every single day, I have flashes of this memory. Nothing crystal clear, but just... the feeling. It's the most random, pointless thing - except that it's not. I know there's a reason that this moment lives on.

I know it was fall, and it had just finished raining. I don't remember where I was coming from or where I was going, but I remember feeling overwhelmed with gratefulness. My window was down a bit; it was one of those sunny, slightly warm days in September or October that cap off a long, hot summer. The smell of rain on the warm pavement was overwhelming, and I remember deciding in my head that I adored that smell and that it made the world seem so clean.

Maybe this was the birth of my love for fall. Maybe this was when it all began.

I remember committing that moment to memory. I remember telling myself that this was a beautiful, wonderful life and I was so lucky to be living it. Maybe this is why the rain never bothers me... living in Washington, we get a lot of it. But I always go back to that day, and remember my appreciation and thankfulness to be living in a world that is washed clean and renewed with each passing day.

Crazy Dreams

This is gonna sound super self-centered. Just brace yourselves.

Many people have told me I need to write a book. *hair flip*, right? Ick.

I know it's a compliment on my writing - and maybe even just the style of writing that I've developed over the years - but for so many people that I don't even really know to tell me the same thing... it's been on my mind for a long, long time.

I mean, people besides my mom have told me this - love you mom, but, you also told me I could be Vanna White. Your credibility is questionable.

I do want to write a book, but here's the problem: I don't feel like I have a story. A true testimony. I'm not an expert in anything. I know a little bit about a lot of useless things. My life has been pretty vanilla, and good Lord Almighty, I am thankful for that. I'm also not saying this as a prayer for God to give me some insane mountain to climb so I have writing material, no no no. I'm grateful for the life I lead, and each day is a total gift. I think there's something already here, within me, and it's something I've been asking God to show me. I'm trying to begin the process of pulling it out of me, somehow.

Does anyone have any wonderful writing prompts, or ways for me to begin the journey of "my story"? Prayer is obvious, because I know God can bring some crazy things to light... but I'm curious to know if anyone has felt this calling on their life, and taken appropriate steps to pursue it?

Seek Peace and Pursue It

Whoever of you loves life

and desires to see many good days

keep your tongue from evil and your lips from telling lies.

Turn from evil and do good.

Seek peace and pursue it.
Psalm 34:12-14

This is so perfectly simple and beautifully profound. As a mother, I spend a lot of time thinking. Analyzing. WORRYING. I ask God for discernment, for direction, for peace... and what a perfect reminder that everything I need to keep on loving life and seeing many good days...

... is right in front of me.

Open your Bible. Start a devotional. Talk to God. FINISH a devotional. If you need a recommendation, Jesus Calling by Sarah Young is absolutely amazing. 

This is a reminder to myself, as well as anyone else seeking purpose, encouragement, or peace.

Surround yourself with positive people - in person, and ONLINE. Seriously. Unfollow anything or anyone that makes you feel lifeless. I had to unfollow some major news outlets recently, because, in the words of many a white girl: I LITERALLY COULD NOT EVEN.

Do good.

Seek peace.

And when you find it, CHASE IT DOWN.

Happy Friday, my friends.

Q&A a Day

I bought this for Christmas (for myself, haha) and I'm so excited to keep this up.

In the land of technological takeover, it's weird and somewhat exciting to buy a handwritten keepsake. I'm excited to give this to my boys someday. I know that I loved reading my mom's words... she had a journal like this that she was filling out for me and my sister. It talked about her childhood, growing up, her feelings. I used to sneak into her bedroom and pull it off the shelf to see if she'd updated it at all. She didn't write in it too often, but I always held out hope that there would be a new entry. Something about the swirly printed writing was so comforting.

I hope she still has the book and has been secretly updating to give to me someday. I would love to have that as a keepsake, and although boys are assumed to be a little less sentimental abut stuff like this, I know Paul would cherish a possession like this... so I'm sure our boys will be the same way!

2015 Resolutions

Resolutions are soooooo early 2000's.

But seriously, I don't make resolutions. Maybe because I can never keep them, but this year I've officially changed my outlook on them. I saw a photo of a girl that went to her favorite grocery store to stock up on her greens (she's a health/food blogger, so this wasn't a "resolution" for her) and the store was COMPLETELY OUT OF SALAD.

Out of salad.

How is that even possible?

Oh, I know. Because everyone and their mom vows to get healthy as a new year dawns?

That's what I hate. I know it's just the sense of a "starting point" that people need. Heck, I start a new "clean eating plan"... every Monday ;) But, I do it every Monday of every week of the entire year (minus a few weeks where I do what I want because, for example, I'm 58 weeks pregnant). But we would be so much more fulfilled if we picked a goal for the year, and worked crazily toward it for 52 weeks straight.

I decided my goal this year is going to be purpose.

I want to live a life of purpose. I want my words, actions and plans to be on purpose. I don't want to stumble into anything if I can help it; I want to measure my actions and then set out with ambition and intent.

I want to plan my meals... on purpose. So I don't just get overwhelmed and call for thai food all week, instead.

I want to rock my baby to sleep and pray with him after we sing a few songs... purposefully. I don't want to pray when I remember, or when I need one more thing to do before his eyes get heavy enough that I can set him down. I want to be purposeful and intentional in our bedtime routine, because I want him to remember that "mama prayed" when he's sixteen, seventeen, eighteen years old.

I want to be purposeful in my marriage. I want to go out of my way to speak positive, life-giving words to my husband - because I know that is what builds him up. I want to intentionally plan dates and time together, so it doesn't just get set aside in light of our busy lives. With purpose, I can combat any obstacle that gets thrown in our path. If I'm living intentionally, our path will be carved out and clear.

What about you?

What is your plan for 2015?

My Iron

You know those friends that just make life easier? That would be these guys.

As I get older grow up, I become continuously more grateful for the relationships that just work. Sure, relationships take work, but I'm a firm believer that the best relationships are also glaringly natural. Personalities compliment, weaknesses are compensated for, and there's a whole lot of grace and assuming the best. If I am upset, I tell them. If they are upset, they tell me. We're so different, but we appreciate the quirks and traits that each one of us brings to the table.

Jessica is so easy going. I used to feel like she just didn't care sometimes, but I've come to realize that she has experienced a lot in her life and she's just decided to spend her energy on what is truly important. She is refreshing; the epitome of "ain't nobody got time for that". She does what she wants, she rolls with the punches. She doesn't care who rides in what car (that's me that cares about weird things like that), or if we miss our dinner reservations and have to move locations (cue hives, Jen). If she doesn't get a seat with the best view of the water fountains whilst on vacation (hehehe), she's over it in like three seconds. If she accidentally spends part of the mortgage payment on Bath & Body Works candles, it's whatever (ok, she's gotten a bit better at this). She has three kids, a husband, is a business owner and boss lady at her normal 9-5 and just AIN'T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT (that = pretty much anything that is dramatic or exhausting without purpose or goal). I don't think you could offend her if you tried (trust me, I've tried. When I pointed out her poor driving skills, her response was a shrug and a "but did you die?" So. There's that.) 

I don't want to make her appear like she just doesn't care about anything. She's also the one that dropped EVERYTHING while we were on vacation in Portland over Labor Day to make sure her kids had everything they needed for their first day back to school this week. She temporarily hated me when I teased her for contemplating going vegan. She is a fiercely loyal wife and friend: if someone hurts me, she holds the grudge for me (even if it's over the silliest thing) until I tell her its ok to move on. If I have an idea, she humors me because it's clearly important in my head (even if she could care less). She's confident and comfortable in her skin and makes friends everywhere she goes (one time, she made friends with a girl at the Applebees in Idaho, because the girl was maybe a little drunk and told Jessica they could be sisters because they both were part Korean. They might even still be Facebook friends? Anyway... yeah, Jess is just that girl).

Jen is pretty much the total opposite in every way. She cares about everything, big and small: about plans, about planning, about making the people she loves happy, about the details. She wants us to be on time for dinner reservations, and if we have to move locations, she is quick to organize a Plan B. She's not one to wing it. She is a hostess, a caretaker, a leader, a mother, and someone that I would seriously hand over the keys to my life and just say: ORGANIZE ME, PLEASE.

That being said, I don't want her to appear rigid or boring. Jen brings life to whatever she touches. And she would seriously do anything for me, anytime I needed her, no questions asked. She is selfless and always all in. Her love language is quality time, and she isn't shy about letting me know this. She is also isn't shy if she disagrees with me, which I love (maybe not at the time, but in hindsight). If she feels distant from Jess and I, she takes the initiative and make plans. She doesn't wait for us to realize we're slacking... she tells us. I absolutely love this about her (so much so that it's making me a little teary to write it out). She knows what she wants, she knows what she needs, and she makes it happen.

Do you know how much I appreciate having these two total opposites in my life? I feel like I can be a perfect mixture of them both- but I probably err on the side of being a hot mess and desperately needing them both to keep me walking a straight line. I'm the codependent people pleaser, so my colors can change (which I don't like). I love that they are who they are, and they inspire me to pick a lane and stay in it.

Fight for the relationships that take some work, because God wants you to push yourself beyond where you're comfortable, but revel in the relationships that don't take much from you and that allow you to just be.

I'm grateful for many relationships like this in my life, but I felt like writing a special blog dedicated to these two in particular, because they've been there for me through some of the most intense, emotional, ridiculous and amazing parts of my life, and they've never faltered in who they are. No matter how crazy I get ;) And THAT's inspiring.

Sheer Beauty

I can't believe October is already gone.

One more month to go, and I become the mother of a one year old. That, my friends, blows my mind. I thought time flew by when I was a newlywed... I knew nothing about flying time until I created a human and was put in charge of all of his days. Now, I can't believe how quickly Mondays fade into Fridays; it seems like I just took Porter's weekly picture yesterday, and now here it is... time for another? Already?

Thank you, God. My days are good.

I get up, I make coffee when the house is still quiet. I pull back the curtains, I let Lennon out, I settle in to work from the comfort of my own living room, I turn on the Today Show. Now, since it's November, I start up the Christmas music from my favorite Spotify playlist (the one that taunts me all year, until it's acceptable to listen to again, come Halloween).

I savor every single moment that I possibly can.

I'm so thankful. My heart is happy.

I am a working mom. I am a work from home mom. I can hardly remember the days where I rushed around to get ready to get to a job that I dreaded, wearing clothes that I hated. Counting down minutes, hours, until I could come home. It seems like another lifetime.

Life is truly too short to spend a minute doing something because you have to. Find a way to do the things you want to do... set some goals, and tackle them. Even if you're afraid. And if you can get someone behind you to give you a little shove when you seem to stall out (hey, we all do it. No shame), it's even better. I could never do this alone. My husband is a constant force that keeps me moving -- even when I would rather collapse into a puddle into the middle of the living room, pounding my fists into the carpet while sobbing "I DON'T WANNA..." (Don't take notes, Porter, your mama can be a big baby and you're much better than that). You may not wanna, but most of the time God doesn't move until you do.

The twinkling lights over my TV change with the seasons. Right now, they're orange and white. They keep a constant flow of merry in our house, year 'round; it's one of my favorite parts of my living room. Sometimes I clean up just so I can turn off the lights, sink into my couch, and stare. It's my happy place. It's normally about this time, when I am able to take the refreshingly deep breath, that Porter wakes up. Then, my day truly begins.

But, briefly, I was able to spend a few quiet moments alone... being thankful for the present.

Enter with the password: “Thank you!”

Make yourselves at home, talking praise.

Thank him. Worship him.

For God is sheer beauty,

all-generous in love,

loyal always and ever.
–Psalm 100:4 (MSG)

I'm Not The Only One

My son went from sleeping a solid 7 or 8 hours at a time, to waking every few hours to nurse. AKA, teething. Most of the time, I don't mind at all. I stumble into his room, cuddle up with him in our recliner and nurse for a few minutes, and he passes back out within 5 minutes or so. I stumble back into bed, and get a beautiful couple of hours of sleep before it happens again.

I'm grateful for social media. Last night was a special case; Porter woke up several times, and then was up and ready to party at 6:30am. Which is the worst, since I have to be up at 7. I mean, can you not just sleep 30 more minutes so I can, too? I promise, you're not missing anything. Anyway, social media. I'm grateful for it. In those wee hours of the morning, I peruse Facebook and Instagram, and the best comfort in the world is seeing posts at 4am from my friends and their little ones. Up for the day, tearing things out of cabinets; sleepy smiles and crazy hair... and cute kiddos, too ;)

I had this revelation as I laid Porter back down for his morning nap. As a mom, sometimes I feel guilty for wishing this time away. I know he will sleep through the night sooner than later. Someday, I will have to drag him out of bed. Drag him to church. I'll look back on those precious days when my little one was up at the crack of dawn, laughing to himself and wanting to play with his mama, and I'll miss it, of course. Sobering reality check.

And then, there's the mamas that never get to experience this phase of life with their babies. I'm following a few blogs right now of moms with very sick babies, and it literally rips my heart in two. 

God, do I thank you enough for perfect health? Because I truly am so grateful. It's the thing in my life I am most grateful for. I don't take it for granted, ever; I am in awe of Your hand on our lives, always.

Target Run & Saturday Fun

Paul was busy doing some home improvements and Porter was sleeping in, so I flew out the door by myself to make a Target run for a baby shower I was headed to later in the afternoon.

I flew out the door.

By myself.

Those are two phrases that I definitely don't say often. Ok, maybe ever, anymore. 

Leaving the house takes planning and preparation, two things I'm not awesome at as it is. And by myself is just highly unlikely, which I'm ok with. My husband is my best friend, so I honestly enjoy doing stuff with him. And I missed Porter's chubby little cheeks (two sets) in the front of my shopping cart, yelling at me for a drink of my Starbucks while I ignore him and kiss his little nose.

Of course, I detoured through the clothing section, and ended up with two new purchases that were calling to me (Yep. Bought the same sweater in grey and orange). Do these not scream fall? And also, youshouldbuynewwedgebootiestoobecauseiwouldlookawesomewithfauxleatherleggings?

I came home with Starbucks for my hub and our friend, who were busy sheet-rocking the downstairs bathroom. Porter went down for a nap as soon as I got home, so I got ready for the baby shower, put together the shower gift (I even had the time and motivation to write some fun advice in my friend's card... WHAT? Normally I forget to even buy a card), cleaned up living room, lit some winter-y candles for the guys (I know they secretly appreciate wintery candles while football is on TV, no matter how much they roll their eyes), and left on time.

New winter candle and some valuable advice for my expecting mom-friend!

I know this seems uneventful, and even boring, but new moms can totally appreciate this: those days when everything just goes according to plans -- no blowouts, no nap strikes, no blueberries ground into the white carpet -- are worthy of a post.

A day like yesterday deserves it's own post, for sure. If I show the day the honor it deserves, maybe it won't be so shy to come around again. 

Like, tomorrow.

It's Monday. Please be gentle.

Coffee Style.

You guys. Did you know that coffee in mason jars just tastes better? It's amazing. A miracle of sorts.

Last night was hair night. I always enjoy getting my hair done, because really, what girl doesn't? We get to sit and gab and my hair gets colored and brushed and cut and styled.

Well, as a new mom, and my hair appointment being in the evening... I yawned a lot. Like enough to cause Anna, my favorite stylist, to ask me if I wanted some coffee. 9 times out of 10, I will automatically (politely) decline any food or drink. I mean, it's kind of awkward to eat and drink in front of people who aren't eating and drinking with you, amiright?

So, this is awkward...

I got a little bit behind on my "Every Day In May", and I just quit blogging.

Like, quit. Cold turkey.

This explains so much about me. I get overwhelmed, and I just give up. I get anxious, and I run away. Instead of tackling something that looms over my head, I pick up my phone and tackle the next level of Candy Crush instead, blatantly ignoring what I should be doing.

My Favorite Posts

Day 21, Tuesday: A list of links to your favorite posts in your archives

These aren't so much my "favorites" as they are "posts that came up when I randomly searched my blog, and they made me laugh/cry.

Every Day In May: Day 7

I used to be able to answer today's blog topic with a resounding and emphatic: "CHILDBIRTH."

If you're guessing today's topic to be: "what in life are you most looking forward to?" you'd be dead wrong. Nope, in fact: completely the opposite. Childbirth was my single-most greatest fear. In fact, when I found out I was pregnant last April, I cried... and it took a few days before they became tears of joy.

Ok, weeks.

But anyway, I cried because I was terribly afraid I wouldn't be able to do it. It seemed impossible.
But, it wasn't. And, ironically enough, it's now what I consider to be my greatest accomplishment.

So, today I'm supposed to talk about what I'm most afraid of.

I don't like to give my fears a face, so I'm not going to.

I will say this: I spend a lot of extra time talking to God about my health, the health of my precious son and husband, and the health of my family and friends. I spend a lot of time thanking God for complete and total wholeness in me and in all of those I love, and for the long life I've yet to experience. I thank God that my days on this earth will be long and full of blessing, and that I will grow old with my husband and children by my side. I thank Him for not giving me a spirit of fear, but of power. And of love. And of a sound mind.

I am at my very best when I believe every single promise of God, even if there are days when I struggle to do so. Some days, I Google things I shouldn't, or I worry about what I would do if _______ (fill in the blank here). I worry. I worry too much, when there's no reason to.

I am healthy. My husband is healthy. My baby boy is healthy. My parents are healthy, my friends are healthy, my family is healthy and happy. 

The funny thing about God's promises: the more you repeat them, the more you believe them. And the more you believe them, the healthier you become - spiritually, emotionally, and even physically. Which, is my greatest goal in life.

Every Day In May: Day 3

Today I'm telling you all about things that make me uncomfortable.

Have a seat. There's nothing I love more than awkward, cringe-inducing lists.

• Opening gifts. I literally dread birthdays and Christmas if I think about gift-receiving. I mean, I love presents. But I hate opening them and having to react... even if it's a good gift! I mean, do I jump up and down like a ten year old so I can properly convey how much I like it? If I hate it, should I cry and then they will mistake my tears of disappointment for tears of sadness? Ugh. So awkward.
  
• Watching a movie with my family when a love scene comes on. I don't think I need to elaborate here, there's nothing comfortable about this. Absolutely nothing.
  
• People that don't respect personal my space. I don't need to be two inches from your face to engage in a serious conversation, and if I keep backing up, you don't need to keep inching forward. By the time we're done talking, we've completely moved rooms - and that's just weird.
  
• Singing your own lyrics or reading your own poem. You know those reality shows where a contestant whips out a piece of paper to read their potential love interest a poem they just wrote for them? I. Wanna. Die. Yuck.
  
• Going through metal detectors, or getting pulled over. Even though I know I'm not carrying an illegal weapon or stashing cocaine in my glovebox, I can't help but get completely nervous and awkward in these situations. What gives?
  
• When parents yell at their children in public. I don't know if this makes me uncomfortable as much as it makes my angry. Have some respect; for yourself, your child, and the people around you.
  
• Watching labor and delivery on TV. Even now that I've done it (fist pump!), I have to ignore it, walk away, or talk over the TV. It literally makes my insides ache.
  
• Smalltalk. Even if I know you really well, if we don't really have anything to talk about, I'm probably dying a little inside. And when you bring up the weather, I just have to walk away awkwardly to end the misery. I'm sorry in advance.
  
• WHEN PEOPLE TYPE SENTENCES IN ALL CAPS. Aesthetically, eww. And why are you yelling at me via the computer?!
  
• Secrets. I hate knowing something that I'm not allowed to share. That much power and control gives me anxiety.
  
• When Pastor tells us to turn to the person beside us to repeat something. This is my internal dialogue during service, when this happens: "Omgggg, but I have two sides! Well, we all do; so which do I choose - left or right?! And what if the person I turn to, turned to someone else?? So awkward!" So lately, I pretty much just use that time during the message to check Instagram.
• When I ask someone "how are you?" and they reply with, literally, everything that is wrong with their life today. Dude. It's just a formality.
  
• Soap opera acting.
  
• Food Network's Anne Burrell
  
• Talking on the phone. Omg. I had to add this one late, because I read it on someone else's list, and I think this has to be my #1. 9 times out of 10, the only reason I answer my phone is if my parents or husband are calling. Sometimes, I even ignore calls from my best friends. Truth. I don't know why talking on the phone makes me feel like I'm dying a slow, painful death. Awkward pauses, starting at the same time, talking over each other, barely understanding someone through their newest fancy, shmancy handsfree device. Ugh, just no. Text me. Please, for the love of everything holy.

Every Day In May: Day 2

So, today I'm supposed to educate you on something I know a lot about.

I don't know a lot about much, but I know a little bit about a lot of things... so this is really hard for me.

So, instead of telling you why you should always use Pampers Newborn diapers vs Huggies, or how to saddle a horse (yeehaw!), I've decided to educate you on little things that I've learned over the years, that you could probably benefit from.

1. I know that dairy makes my stomach hurt, but I eat it anyway. This probably isn't smart, and I don't suggest that you follow my lead here.

2. I know the difference between there, their and they're. I wish more people did, too. 

3. I know that I'm so much happier when I don't procrastinate. 

4. I know that chocolate is better when you can wash it down with a soda. 

5. Do things that require heavy lifting while pregnant -- because you won't have to do any of the heavy lifting. We went camping when I was seven months pregnant, and I was all "Ohhh, sorry guys. I can't lift anything heavier than this tub of Cheetos." So brill.

6. People will get annoyed with your constant picture taking, but four years later, they will thank you for it. 

7. When I'm around people with accents, I find myself trying to talk in their accent... this is horribly offensive, don't do it. 

8. Summer days don't live up to their full potential if they're not set to a country music soundtrack. I promise. 

9. To be a good blogger, leave yourself notes in your phone. This is probably old news, but I just learned this after I had a baby, so it's brand new to me. I find myself being a much better blogger since I can remember things that I wanted to write about, five days later.

10. The "Check Oil Soon" light on your car doesn't ever change to "CHECK OIL NOW, YOU MORON", so you should probably just drop everything you are doing and get your oil changed when the suggestion comes up. You're welcome, procrastinators. 

Every Day In May: Day 1

The Story of My Life in 250 Words Or Less

I was born in Tacoma, Washington on July 8th, 1984. I'm the oldest of two; my younger sister Katie came along in December of 1986. We grew up in a small town called Roy; we lived on 20 acres and did "ranchy" things: rode horses, built forts in the woods and drank water straight from the hose. We didn't lock our doors at night, and the keys stayed in the ignition. I have the best memories of picking fresh raspberries with my grandma, and manipulating my little sister to run out and feed the horses while I "timed her" so I didn't have to do it myself. We went to church on most Sundays, which was never something I looked forward to. God was scary and intimidating and was always watching and ohnodidhehearmetalkbacktomyparents and I couldn't wait until I was a grown up and didn't have to go to church if I didn't want to. I loved God, I didn't need to sit in a building to prove that.

I showed horses competitively for years. Won a few world titles. I was homeschooled in Junior High and returned to public school in 9th grade; the homeschool liaison for the program I was enrolled in had her office set up in an alternative school. Funny how that works, right? My parents homeschooled me to keep me safe, and I ended up around all the kids that got kicked out of public school for drugs and alcohol. Woopsie.

As luck would have it, I fell in love with the man of my dreams when I was fifteen (haha), he broke my heart (which no one saw coming), I thought my life was over. My parents enrolled me in the local public school if for no other reason than to get my social life and self-esteem back on track. I made great friends, became a varsity cheerleader for our record-breaking 4A football and basketball teams, and had the high school memories that movies are made of. I mean, complete with the printed out lyrics to Vitamin C's Graduation Song in Comic Sans and Brush Script on the cover of every binder and on every mirror in my house.

I got my own apartment and a job with our family friends at a local real estate office right out of high school, where I stayed for almost 6 years. I partied, I charged up credit cards, I had a good time... I thought that was how "adulthood" was supposed to be, until the credit card companies turned me over to collection agencies and my heart could no longer be explained through lyrics to a Kelly Clarkson song. Then I got fed up with life and decided that I wanted to change things: I found a new job, and I also allowed a coworker from the real estate office to drag me to her church on one hungover Sunday morning, because why not.

Clouds part, angels sing. I was home.

I met some amazing people, became convicted, dove in head first and never looked back. I learned the truth about grace, and realized that the God-sized hole in my heart was something I'd been filling with everything but Him, which perfectly explained why I was never satisfied with what I had in my hands.

I became pretty good friends with a really cool guy named Paul, who had grown up in the church. He and I became best friends over the next few years, and then I became his wife four years later - in October 2010. We got married in what had become our church, alongside twenty (!!) of our best friends and incredible family members. Today, he is the worship leader at our church, we are planted and deeply rooted in God's house, and I learn more about what true love is every day.

In December of 2012 we welcomed our first perfect son, Porter Alan Burton.

BAM. That brings us to today!

Way more than 250 words, guys, but I'm going to be 29 in a few months, so I'm exercising my rights as a grown up.

The One Where Taylor Swift Emailed Me

I used to work at a real estate office, and back in those days - before Spotify or Pandora - MSN Radio was awesome. So was Myspace. I often picked the "Today's Country" station to jam out to while I processed Purchase & Sales and New Construction listings, and it's here where I can tell you that I absolutely discovered Taylor Swift.

Fine. So I didn't discover her, per say. But close. I was, like, one of the first people to listen to her song on MSN radio. Even before it came out on the actual radio.

When I heard her single, Tim McGraw, I was hooked. There was no picture of Taylor on the MSN feed, just her adorable voice and stupid catchy lyrics. I Googled her relentlessly, not much to be found - except for a lonely looking Myspace page.

I sent her a message.

"Hey! Heard you on MSN Radio! Love your Tim McGraw song! Do you have any more music?"

She wrote me back. IT WAS BEFORE SHE WAS FAMOUS GUYS, DON'T RAIN ON MY PARADE WITH ALL YOUR "IT WAS AN AUTOMATED RESPONSE" CRAP. IT'S REAL.

Ok, so maybe it was an automated response.

I remember I didn't care too much when I got the message back; I absentmindedly skimmed over it and left it in my inbox for months. Then she became famous and six years later I went crazy digging through old Myspace archives to find our email exchange.

Now I'm all "how much can I sell these screenshots for".

Love it or... wait, what was I doing again?

Lately, I've been watching TV shows on HGTV, and then getting sidetracked and missing the ends of the episodes. So, I have no idea if the couples on the show love it... or list it. This may not seem like a big deal to you, but this is one of those things I spend way too much time obsessing over, and it just makes me so angry.

In my defense, they wrap up the end of that show really quickly, people. The couple is viewing a home for sale one minute, and starting to talk about their decision. I walk over to check on dinner and come back a few moments later to a new House Hunters.

...and I'm left staring at my TV in utter agony. Not again.

I know, I know. There are so many more important things in life, but it's so annoying to me that I can't stay focused for one measly hour, or at least remember to record the ends of shows.

And, because I am sick and will spend an ungodly amount of time thinking about something I don't have time to think about, I've Googled the episodes to the high heavens... to no avail. Of course, it doesn't help that I can't remember the character's names, the episode title, or anything of any value. My last Google searches were "basement that flooded mid renovation love it or list it" and "guy named steven or stephen mean wife flooded basement".

Good luck, Google.