CHRISTMAS.

     Christmas- my absolute FAVORITE season has passed yet another year. Yet another year that it never felt like "Christmastime."  Another year that the holiday "creeped" upon us all, and we have yet to believe it is over.  It comes the same time each year.  How can we not be prepared for it?  Not necessarily what we wrap, but our hearts.  Why can we not believe it is Christmas? It sounds like a personal problem that even I, lover of any and all things Christmas, is guilty of.  It does not feel like Christmas because we do not feel like it.  I do not think this is a conscious doing.  I certainly do not go out of my way to rush through this time.  The world is going down hill.  This we all know.  And this is an inevitable sign of our coming again Lord that Christmas is built around at its essence.  However, how we respond is entirely up to us.  Let us be prepared.  Let us prepare our hearts, and others, of the joy, the magic, the love that only Christmas can bring in such a united manner.  Better yet, let us be Christmas to the world year 'round.  Challenge accepted.  Merry Christmas, and happy new year. Here's to the Christmas-est year ever of life...Until next year.

A Pilgrim and an Indian Have a Party

       Thanksgiving typically brings up similarly following subjects: turkey, casseroles(green bean,sweet potato, etc.), turkey, black Friday,  turkey, traveling,  turkey.  Nothing is wrong with any of this.  I, like every other good American, does enjoy a tasty meal(or more) on this beloved holiday.  However, does anyone remember why we gorge upon delicious foods? Upon asked, many would say "Pilgrims" or perhaps "Indians" or maybe even "America", but the gorging did have a purpose.  The 

Pilgrims had been through thick.  They had known famine as an unending characteristic of their new life.  They chose freedom over security.  They gave up prosperity to follow a calling.  What is more, the people that should have been (and some were for a time) enemies ended up being their God-sent heroes, literally.  The story may not be forgotten, but with time the impact loses power.  As elastic loses its stretch over time, stories of old often seem less relatable. People do not change.  Our flesh has not changed since the beginning of time.  Add a few iPhones, tablet, and possibly a flying car, and the story of the first Thanksgiving could happen today.  I love pumpkin.  I love a great sale.  Let us not lose sight of the sacrifice and important time of family(even the ones that do not technically share the same blood).  Also, cliche as it sounds, let us not forget thankfulness does not have to only be a once a year thing. And finally, it is officially Christmas time, the most wonderful time of the year, to say the least.

A Secret.

We're far too alike, you and I.
 We can't accept compliments and smile through the crap of life.
To each other we vent and confide
But we leave just the same.
We're growing and learning the meaning and importance of being selflessly selfish.
I wish I could put into words what this is; I wish I knew myself.
I have always been so independent,so what's this sudden need for help?
I don't wanna admit, but you are the nicest thing.
Nice in multiple ways and in multiple ways does my heart go.
I want this to remain a secret,but I want you to know.
We run around the rules,the ones that keep us from our fate.
We search for our shot,but end up being the bate.
Love- a word-an action,feeling,and state of being,
Said too often, and not meant enough.
But until my reflection shines true
I can't love me,and can't truly love you.

I'M IN LOVE! I'M IN LOVE! AND I DON'T CARE WHO KNOWS IT!!

               So, this title may be slightly deceiving. This is not a lie, but I doubt this blog will be what you all expect. I have come to a realization. Life sucks. Life will NEVER be perfect. We cannot wait for the world to get its ducks in a row for us to be happy.  "It"(whatever it may be) is not about that; "it" is about finding happiness through the crap,and boy, is there loads of that.  This, my friends, is true joy.  The relationships that grow from struggle, the friends that become family when everyone else turns their backs, when doors one would swear were the "thing" are slammed in our faces, when we find happiness in these is when we find the best moments of our lives. I am in love with life, not because I have the perfect lover, best hair ever, or dream job opportunities popping up, for I am single, my hair has a mind of it's own, a ginger curly mess, and I work at Chick- Fil- A while trying to get through this maze we call high-school.  I am in love with life because I finally realized it a choice neutral to situations.  I am happy because if I do not decide to be happy, there is, and will always be, far too much to keep me unhappy, depressed, even. I am going to love myself.  Note the "-ing" ending because I realize this will be a draining process. But I cannot love anything without loving myself. I deserve to feel beautiful, not because of pride, but because I realized it is ok, healthy, actually, to walk by a mirror and smile genuinely at what I see.  I decide to be happy because for too long I have allowed others and their opinions to define me.  Here I am. I am happy. I am in love.  This is a beginning, not an end.

THE SOUTH.

            Disney World is spectacular, but it is neither the happiest nor greatest place on earth.  However it is located in this area. This area I would be referring to is...wait for it....drumroll please.... the South.  Now, I may be slightly biased considering I am a born and raised Georgia peach, but my devotion is deeper than words on a birth certificate.  I could go into the differences between "Redneck", "Country", "Blue-Grass", and "Southern", and believe me there is a difference(some of you Yankees may be taken aback by this, no offense), but I would like to put more effort into emphasizing the fact that just as not every single human living on the Northeast shore is a "Jersey Shore" character, we are not all as ridiculous as "reality" t.v. shows make us out to me. We have class. We have dignity. We have hygiene. Not to mention one of our specialties, hospitality. I never meet a stranger, thanks to the example of Momma.  And if you have been to the house or church or any kind of special event, practically, you are family.  And we treat family right, even when they are knuckleheads. Oh, they are gonna learn their lesson, be sure, but we are going to take of them.  We do not miss church unless we are out of town or in the hospital, and if the latter, after service the congregation'll be cramped in that little room or bringing some homemade goodies to the family.  And although some church is though of as more of a chore or "have-to" rather than "want-to", this does hold us accountable, and sometimes we get the most out of those services that we momentarily thought about sleeping in.  We do not know much about personal space nor personal business. We always mean well.  We are innovative.  Sometimes our hearts and brains disagree, and when this happens, it is a tricky thing to master which to follow.  Right or wrong, we typically go with the heart. Football is more than a sport. It is a characteristic.  It is a party.  It is a binging factor.  Unsweet tea is simply incomplete sweet tea.  I do not consider myself to be an extremist. I am decently cultured.  I appreciate many arts and places and ways of life.  I am independent.  But, there is something about a boy in a flannel driving a truck, particularly an older one, with a power G tag on front, the cherry on top.  This makes me almost as happy as the sound of a banjo, fiddle, mandolin, and/or multiple part harmonies. Family harmonies, those are the best.  Not to the mention the South's beauty! Rolling hills, valleys, beaches, lakes, mountains, flowers, greens upon pinks upon blues upon purples during spring and summer! An array of warm hues during fall, mixed with festivals, all things pumpkin.  Christmas time! Lights, lights, lights! Prayers for snow!  Forever is not enough time to describe this Southern Belle's home, so how's about comin' for a visit and seein' for yaself:)

For a Particular Lumineer of a Cowboy.A True Best Friend. Here's to you, Old Sport.

  Happy birthday! Feliz cumpleanos!  joyeux bon anniversaire! 
Get chilly down south 
For something sweet to put in your mouth! 
A cold keeper of food just for such a teacher, 
Though you are the one and only day's feature!


Next,do you like green eggs and ham? 
Do you like them, Misfit I Am? 
Do you like them in a house with a mouse?
 On a train in the rain? 
With a fox in a box? 
No...well perhaps you should check some sort of "box" anyhow....



Happy birthday, and I think I may be more grateful than you
That you're around another year live, another year to help me through.
God and I both know you haven't been dealt a fair hand of cards.
You've done far beyond your share, and I'm sure it's been hard.
Your heart's been broken; your faith, tried 
And at timesfelt as though you had not a soul in whom to confide.
As myself, you've covered it all with a smile, an insecure shell to hide.
You deserve more, I want you to know
More than you think. You'll reap what you sew.
You're beautiful in every way
Though feminine it may be to say
So here's to a merry birthday no one can subtract from or add to.
I thank  God for sharing His masterpiece; I love you.

When I Grow Up....To Be A Flapper

       The location of a digit in a number can make all the difference in the world.  For instance, we are currently in the year 2012, but, however, I would much rather be living in the decade of the 1920s.  The fashion, the music, the lifestyle, it all intrigues me, not to mention my long-life aspiration of meeting, probably becoming best friends, and sing and dance in a movie with Bing Crosby.  It was an innovative time, filled with dreams of freedom and prosperity, and much done to attain these dreams. The same ol' same ol' was whisked away, especially for women.  Due to ready made clothing and canned foods, females were ready to leave the house, to explore, to experience.  The flapper idea is a particular one that delights me. The bravery to cut hair and almost, possibly occasionally, show knee, along with the dynamite attitude and lipstick to match, the young and restless were prepared to live on the edge, and most importantly, dance.   Jazz! This special genre, unlike any other, than can create feelings unlike any other to this day, was created, cultivated, and made magic happen during the Roaring 20s.  Party, party, party was the to-do marking this period, and the more extravagant and expensive, the better.  Passion outweighed caution.  Nightlife outweighed sleep. Excitement outweighed peace. Happiness, long or short lasting, outweighed guilt.  Not even the sky was the limit, and any day could be the last.  Such "living-each-moment-to-the-fullest" I admire, even if the lifestyle was not the most commendable.  I may or may not dream of wearing adorable and daring fringed dresses, with short, fiery hair-do, crimson cheeks and lips, dancing the evening away to the jazz orchestra!.... Okay, okay, I am caught; I do.  I may do it often... Okay, I do it very often.   'Tis not very realistic, impossible, actually, so I suppose the books, music, movies, and my imagination'll have to do for my Roaring 20s fix.