I'm Sorry :(

For all my faithful readers out there, I owe you an apology. In the last couple months I've been super crazy busy and unable to type up a blog post. Therefore, you've been lacking some serious Mandy-induced gigglez and that's just not fair to you. So I am very sorry. I'll try to do better.

Instead of trying to explain in detail all the crazy things that have gone through my mind lately, I'll just give you a somewhat concise list of observations.

- Kissing someone while wearing a bathing suit will make you have triplets. That's what a pastor friend told me to discourage me from kissing my boyfriend Bob. I'm pretty sure he was joking. If he's not, I may be in a little bit of trouble. In fact, you might should start buying me diapers and such.

- I'm pretty fond of semi automatic handguns. Yes, you should be afraid.

- If anyone scares my momma with an idiotically loud car stereo, they will experience the wrath of Mandy. Don't laugh! I'm all cute and stuff, but apparently I can be quite terrifying when screaming at a bunch of hooligans in the Walmart parking lot.

- Thor, Green Lantern, and Kung Fu Panda 2 were all pretty awesome, I don't care what the critics say. I'm not really sure how good X-Men First Class was because I was kinda sleeping for some decidedly important parts.

- Owl City's new album "All Things Bright and Beautiful" is unbelievably happifying. Although it's kinda dangerous because it makes me dance while driving. You should all listen to the song "Plant Life". It's so strange but so dang adorable. If I were to pluck on your heart strings, would you strum on mine?

- I would kill for a slice of Oreo cheesecake.

- I should not watch silly Disney Channel shows before church on Sunday mornings. Because the laughter with my sisters will continue throughout the car ride, into the building, and then makes it difficult to walk up the stairs to our classroom. Although it's kinda fun being doubled over in gigglez on the stairs as weirded-out teenagers are staring at you.

If time and mental capacity allows, I'll post more often. And you may not even really care, but this appeases my narcissistic (Gosh do I love spell check) side. So do me a favor and pretend like you care, ok? Lovins!

My Deformity

Do you still have a webbed toe?

In a word - yes. I still have my cute little deformity. For those who don't know, two of the toes on my left foot are stuck together. I would include a picture in this post, but I don't want to alienate my readers who have weak stomachs and irrational fears of footsies. You can thank me later.

Occasionally I consider having it "fixed" but I'm horrified of needles, blood, and just the thought of surgery. If I listed all my fears, surgery would be close to (if not at) the top of that list, higher than death itself. But other than my aversion to surgery, there's few reasons that I'll make do with it.

Firstly, it made Mom sure she brought home the right baby. After going through 40 hours of labor and being three weeks late (which she reminds me about on a regular basis), she woulda hated to come home with the wrong kid. Although during the first six months of my upset tummy, she might have wished I got switched at birth...

My little deformity also makes an awesome conversation topic as some people are amazed and calling all their friends over to see it. Either that or their faces twist in disgust which can be quite hilarious.

When Dad does the piggies thing on my toes, he starts off with the big toe like normal saying "This little piggy went to market." But then he'll pinch the webbing between the special toes and say "And these two stayed home and had roast beef because they're joined at the hip." I normally don't get past that part because his rough old man fingers are tickley.

Even though it's so much fun, it does have its down side. If I were ever interested, I would probably be disqualified as a competitive swimmer. It's just not fair to the others than I'm part froggie. Oh, and I can't wear toe socks. And that's really annoying because some are ridiculously cute.

So I am still just one comment away from beating my comments record on my Ask Mandy post! Somebody puh-leaze ask me something interesting!

Cuteness?

Fair Maiden, Why art thou so cute?

Although the question was submitted "anonymously" the writer gives it away in the first two words. It took me a while to come up with a satisfactory and not-too-egotistical answer, so you better appreciate it Sir Luther!

My first response is a question - When exactly did you last get your eyes checked? LOL and thank you for the compliment. I'll be sending your check in the mail within the week.

I guess my "cuteness" begins with my genes. My dad is ok, but luckily my mommy's adorableness completely eclipsed daddy's mediocrity. Unfortunately I do have my father's crooked teeth which I like to think adds to my charm. If anything, it just makes me undeniably my father's daughter which can be either a good or a bad thing depending on how he is behaving in public. (I love you, Daddy!) The only thing I'm really upset about concerning my genes is that my grandfather was selfish and refused to pass down the I-eat-all-the-time-and-still-don't-gain-an-ounce genes.

My still-developing fashion sense however comes from neither parent. Dad is hilariously color blind and mom is very simple when it comes to clothes. So I relied on my addiction to Disney Channel to give me some pointers on fashion. Don't laugh, it's a great resource! I was so giddy one day when the most fashion-conscious character on the channel had the same shirt I had, it made my week. I generally stick to jeans and wear Rainbow flip-flops ten months out of the year, but try to dress up the native beachcomber look with a cute top and some layering if I feel like it.

I'd also like to think it has something to do with my personality. Though I am so very far from perfect, I'm steadily working towards this type of beauty described in the Bible. 1 Peter 3:3-4 reads "Do not let your adornment be merely outward - arranging the hair, wearing gold, or putting on fine apparel - rather let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God." Wow, I've got a looooooong way to go!

So there's my answer. If anyone wants to know my oh-so-awesome opinion on something, post your question as a comment on my Ask Mandy entry! To be honest, half the reason I wrote that request was to beat my record of comments which currently sits at six and two of which were my own. As of right now, I have three more to get! Now somebody ask me a question, dangit! Kthanxbai!

Release the Kraken!

In the event of the zombie apocalypse, what would be your battle plan? Who would you bring? What would you use as a weapon? Would you last past the first few hours?

I hate giving away my strategy for the zombie apocalypse, but since you asked...

The most important part of my plan is the prep work to be done well before they're actually walking the streets. Using my radio connections, I'll install giant speakers underground that will rise above ground when the apocalypse happens. Barricaded in my station studio and knowing zombies' love for pop music, I'll air some "Thriller" first, just to see them dance. And then I'll suddenly switch from pop to the opposite of pop - country. Upon hearing the horribleness in their picky and decaying ears, they'll simply disintegrate.

The people I would bring? Well that's easy! Much like former presidential candidate Mike Huckabee's policy on illegal immigration, I'll just place Chuck Norris between me and the baddies. But to make it a little easier for his 70-year-old self, I'll also enlist the help of Bruce Campbell (totally loved Burn Notice: The Fall of Sam Axe, by the way) and Bruce Willis. These two would be affectionately known as the Backup Bruces while Chuck's code name would be The Kraken. Mostly because I want to go all Liam Neeson and epically scream "Release the Kraken!" My command would confuse the zombies as they would be looking for a giant monster, when what they should be fearing is the possibility that the combined awesomeness of Chuck and the Bruces may cause the world to explode. Having those three is a big risk, but I think it's worth it.

Based on the two previous steps, there wouldn't be much need for a personal weapon. Not many, if any at all, will survive both the music treatment and my team of defenders. But like all my fellow ninjas, I'll use whatever is within arm's reach to my advantage. I can blind them with post-its over their eyes, staple their noggins, and tape their legs together. Then I can beat them with mic stands and office chairs while making Star Wars light saber sounds, you know, to make it fun!

And would I last the first few hours? Two words: Duh! Winning!

Anyone else have good questions? Leave a comment on my Ask Mandy post. I'll be writing up the next answers soon!

Ask Mandy

I was talking to my friend Katrina today and she gave me a fun idea. She suggested making an advice blog where I answer reader's questions. I can't make a brand new blog right now (because it takes me an eternity to design one that looks decent to me... darn my pickyness), but if you leave me a comment on this post, I'll make up a response in an entry to be posted later.

This is a great chance for you to ask me whatever you want, silly or serious, and I'll answer it to the best of my ability.

But I do have some restrictions:

• No politics. I want to keep it at least somewhat light-hearted, and I tend to get slightly angry and a leetle rabid when I talk politics.
• Keep it interesting. Ask me something that requires more than a simple Yes or No answer. Because one word posts would annoy the heckins outta me.
• Don't ask for my Social Security Number or my mommy's maiden name. I'm lots smarter than I look, thank you very much.
• And keep it clean. I don't want to have to delete your comment/question. And then send my mommy to your house to wash your mouth out with soap. Although that may be fun...

Now ask away!

The Blizzard of 2011

On this unprecedented third snow day of the winter, we were expected to get just a dusting of snow. It was guaranteed that none of it would stick. Someone should sue our weathermen for lying to the public. Mom woke me up at ten this morning and squealed that it was snowing and it continued to do so until almost six this evening. And I spent my entire day watching it!

I want to show you a bunch of pics that I took without falling on my butt this time. If you click on them, you can see a much bigger picture.

Down the road before my house. Notice you can barely see the road.

Looking down the road running beside my house. I love how the snow is blowing sideways!

Still looking down that same side road, but closer to the end. Lookit all the snow falling!!

I love this picture looking from the intersection shown in the last shot because you can see just how big most of the flakes were.

Looking back down the side road. See my footprints in the tire tracks? Halfway down the street I realized it would be easier if I walked in snow-packed tracks instead of trudging through the 4-inch layer of snow.

On the back porch, you can see how much snow was built up on the table by mid-afternoon. Plus a pretty little Cardinal. They were all over the place!

Our little bird feeder next to the back windows was apparently the hangout of the yard...

Our cats quickly noticed that too. Zaboo and Patches rarely ever get as close to each other as they were here. There's nothing like a flock of birdies in the snow to bring kitty sisters together.

I am so loving all this snow!!! This needs to happen every winter. And our weathermen should be wrong more often.

White {Almost} Christmas

As a late Christmas present, God gave me snow. While I don't think I could survive in a constantly snowy climate, I do love seeing snow every now and then. When my weathermen were talking about a possible white Christmas, I tried my best to resist getting too excited just in case it didn't happen. But really, I was like a little kid absolutely giddy at the thought of all the snowflakes. It was so hard to hold in my squeals of anticipation.

When I woke up yesterday morning, I was hoping to see snow but was quickly disappointed as I peeked out my window. I got myself ready for church like any other Sunday morning, periodically checking outside for any wintery activity. Not long before we left for the sevice, freezing rain started to fall and the precipitation bounced around on our patio out back. And then I squealed every time I saw a little flurry of snow swirling through the air.

We bundled up and drove the two blocks to the church, meeting a very small representation of our normal congregation. Truth be told, if we lived farther than two blocks, we probably would have skipped too. It's funny, when the choir came down after their special, the crowd on the floor doubled. Haha! Why we didn't cancel like the rest of eastern North Carolina, I've no idea. But then about halfway through the service, I was kinda glad we didn't.

While at church, the mix of flurries and freezing rain had turned to all snowflakes floating from the sky and coating the ground. I tried so very hard to pay attention to dad's sermon, but often got distracted while I watched out the window in awe. It was so cool to be singing Christmas carols and praising God while our surroundings started to look like a winter wonderland. It was so beautiful!

When the service was over, I giggled like a little girl and pressed my nose to the cold sanctuary window to watch the giant flakes fall. My new friend who just came here from Seattle didn't get the big deal, but I think he was just cranky because he's bald and didn't want his head to get cold. I didn't care about my head getting cold or even my hair getting messed up, but I certainly enjoyed dancing around in the parking lot afterwards.

Here are some pics I took of the snow...

Apart from falling on my butt twice while walking on the slippery roads shown in the third pic, this was the best Christmas weekend ever.

The Livestock's Christmas

On Sunday, we had a very interesting Bible study meeting. We deviated from our studies of the Sermon on the Mount to do a special Christmas story exercise. After reading the Christmas story from Luke 2, a few of us retold the story from the perspective of certain key characters. There was a retelling concerning Mary, Joseph, and the Shepherds as anyone would expect. But I was assigned the livestock. That's right, the livestock. Here's how I think it sorta went that first Christmas night...

It was like any normal evening in that Bethlehem stable. The cows, pigs, sheep, and goats were flinging yo mama jokes across the room. Every now and then one of the cows would have the audacity to say "Your girlfriend's a heifer!" to one of the other cows. The jumpy sheep were so happy that the angry cows were in their own stalls. When the pigs weren't being obnoxious, they would ask the other animals when the food was gonna get there.

Unexpectedly, the door was opened and their owner entered with no food, but rather a couple of unfamiliar humans. As they moved sluggishly past the pigs, they snorted that these tired and sweaty people smelled worse than they did a week after their baths. The shorter of the two with the higher-pitched voice patted the heads of the shy sheep who suddenly decided they may very well like the new people who settled themselves in the corner.

They soon noticed the unusual form of the short one and some of the animals became alarmed. They asked among themselves why she was so fat. "Maybe she is sick?" a cow inquired. The pigs selfishly began asking about food for the fifteenth time that day, and then the old grumpy goat in another corner glared at the annoying swine, saying "Maybe she ate too much bacon." If only you could have heard the chorus of the animals' laughter as the pigs grunted at the joke, but to Mary and Joseph's ears it sounded of only moo's and baa's.

The stable had been calm for a while as the animals enjoyed people-watching, but then the woman started to make some less than calming noises. As she got louder, the sheep scurried as far away as possible while the cows peered out of their stalls to see what was happening. They soon regretted that. Quickly, the stable became abuzz with animal chatter, saying...

"Oh my gosh, what's happening to the woman?"

"That's not normal, is it?"

"Is she broken?"

"OH! OH GROSS! MY EYES, MY EYES!!"

"Make it stop!! MAKE IT STOP!!"

"I'll have nightmares about this for weeks!"

"Where's my food?"

"What IS that wrinkly thing?!"

"It's gross! ...but cute!! ... but gross!"

"Why are they setting it in my food trough?!?!?!"

The chatter died down as the little human looked around at all the animals. Silence fell upon them and chills went down each of their spines when they realized this was something special. This was not a normal mini human. This... this was their Creator. The one who painted the spots on the cows, carefully designed the pigs' twisty tails, and formed the legs of the frolicking sheep. Even the grumpy old goat had to fight off tears of joy as he came face to face with God himself. Their only regret was that they couldn't follow him home and see what He was here to do.

I've no idea what went through the minds of those animals that night, but it is certainly fun to imagine. In all seriousness, please remember that Christmas isn't about Santa, food, and presents. It's about remembering God's gift to us - Salvation through Jesus. Merry Christmas, my friends!

Happy Birthday To Me

Today is my birthday!!! I have turned 22 years old, and I'm expecting gray hairs and wrinkles to show up any minute now. As soon as I'm done typing this post, I'm going to do some online research for good canes. Preferably pink sparkly ones.

I've never been a fan of huge birthday parties, and nowadays I'm a little suspicious that big parties are nothing more than a scam to get as much stuff as possible from people you may or may not really care about. When I worked at a local ice cream shop, I would help with birthday parties where the honored kid would invite everyone they know and end up with a mountain of presents they couldn't even fit into the car. And many of these weren't cheap! Instead, I prefer to have my birthday with just my family.

Since I like small simple outings with my family, we went to Texas Steakhouse and had a delicious lunch. When I was stuffed full of chicken, potato, rolls, and salad, I went to work as normal but had to battle against my body's desire for hibernation. Although the fight wasn't as difficult as it would have been because my family gave me a bag of chocolate. I love my family.

Since I did some redecorating in my room, I got an early birthday present of a pretty shelf and gorgeous candle holder. It's so pretty and goes well with the Charleston pictures I have on display on the adjacent wall. Lookit!

I have never understood the tradition of cake for a birthday. In fact, I've never really understood cake to begin with. It looks super cute if done right, but it's somewhat of a disappointment to me. Sure, it looks like you're getting a huge slice of cake, but the dessert is so full of air! As soon as you get it in your mouth, it deflates as it hits saliva and gets pressured by your jaw. It promises to happify you but then disappears once it's out of your sight! Cake is nothing but lies!

But really, why have cake, when you can have brownies like I did tonight! Brownies that have just been pulled from the oven and are still hot to the touch. Brownies that are crowned by a bar of Hershey's chocolate that soon melts down the sides like wax on a candle. Brownies surrounded by freezing vanilla ice cream that creates a delicious moat around the chocolate castle. When the warm brownie, melted chocolate, and cold ice cream are on your tongue together, it's like a moment of heaven on earth. God bless my sweet mommy for making this for my birthday dessert. I did already say that I love my family, right?

So yeah, I like birthdays. I should have these more often.

Oh The Laughter!

Yesterday, my family embarked on an all-day trip to visit my grandad in Chesapeake Virginia. It was a great visit with him as we got to simply chit chat for a couple hours. But for a moment, we all had the scare of our lives as the fire alarm sounded in the super snazzy assisted living facility. Poor Grace had just got into the hallway bathroom and the alarms started the moment she flipped the "Occupied" switch. She had a hard time stumbling back out of the bathroom because the flashing lights had temporarily blinded her. I would be lying if I said I didn't laugh a little.

As opposed to Grace's discombobulation, Sam immediately went into action in the midst of the lights and annoying noises in Grandad's apartment. Being the awesome sister that she is, she grabbed my jacket and scarf and headed out of the room to investigate. As the residents told her the fire plan was that they all stay in their rooms, the giant metal hallway doors that segment the complex closed. For a moment she feared she was trapped and death was near, and she decided that if her life depended on it she would jump out of the apartment's window. She's watched enough Burn Notice to know how to do it properly.

Fortunately the whole ordeal was just a false alarm which made a good laugh among the more lighthearted residents. But really, this wouldn't have been a successful family trip if there wasn't laughter every 15 minutes. In nearly every trip, I've found myself doubled over in my seat trying to catch my breath multiple times. One of my favorite memories happened on a trip like this almost three years ago. At the time we had XM radio in our minivan and we were listening to Jeff Foxworthy on the Comedy channel. For the life of me I can't remember what he was talking about because I think my subconscious blocked it. But all six of us were painfully laughing and crying, and even dad was laughing so hard he turned cherry red and had to pull the car over on the side of that skinny rural road. For 10 minutes we continued to laugh as our sides and bellies screamed in protest.

It may have been the same trip, I don't quite remember, but once we had a little fun with a Starbucks employee. We pulled up to the drive through and were greeted with a happy male voice saying "If you can guess my name, your order is free!" Dad guessed George but then the guy said we were wrong and that his name was Anthony. We then gave our order and got our ridiculously overpriced gourmet coffee at the window. But just for gigglez, we went back to the drive through and was greeted with the same guessing game. Dad said "Your name is Anthony" and the poor shocked fella stuck his head out of the window and tried to figure out what was going on. Laughing, my dad confessed we'd already been through but just wanted to mess with him. We all waved as we left the drive though and now almost every time I hear the name "Anthony" I have to fight not to laugh.

Our trip yesterday seemed especially full of puns and laughter. During our delicious lunch with Grandad, we all ate until we couldn't stuff another fry in our faces. When asked about dessert, Grace rubbed her belly and said "There's no more room in my inn." I had no idea what she was talking about until the Christmas story reference hit me about 15 seconds later as I laughed and confessed "I just now got that." Then the rest of my table enjoyed laughing at me.

During most of the ride there, I was able to look out the window and see yesterday's snow covering the ground. It was so pretty. And then I finally got to play with some when we stopped at Grandad's place. As we were eating at the Italian restaurant, I held the Parmesan shaker and said "It looks like snow!" Sam immediately took a picture of the shaker and posted in on her Facebook saying "No Mandy, this is a Parmesan container, not a snow globe." I would have tried shaking it, but then that would've had the urge to lick it off the table that's just unsanitary. Here's a pic of my little snow globe friend...

On our way home, we passed a field of cows. One of them was running and it struck Sam funny, so she imitated it complete with totally un-cow-like sound effects and awkward arm motions. I love Sam, but for a moment she looked mentally challenged. She claims she was imitating the cow who appeared to her as mentally challenged, but I don't believe her. Challenged or not, her funny face and unusual antics made her sisters erupt in laughter and a chorus of "DO IT AGAIN!"

During this laughing fit, tears freely rolled down my cheeks and I used tissue after tissue to soak it all up. Innocent and curious, Sam looked at me and asked, "Is your mascara running?" I laughed even harder as I replied "Better go catch it!" It's a wonder that I was able to speak clearly enough for my fellow passengers to understand and appreciate my joke enough to continue their own laughing fits.

While I am very talented at speaking while laughing like a maniac, Lindy still needs tons of practice. At one point in the trip, she was trying to whisper something to Grace but would only get a few words in to her statement before her increasing laughing transformed it into a jumble of incomprehensible noises. The she tried to explain to all of us what she was trying to say, but again got a few words in before her laughing and wheezing dominated her statement that was never completed. She tried a couple more times with no success apart from making us all laugh.

We've all been stuck behind bad smelling trucks, but yesterday we were stuck behind one that smelled of a particularly foul bodily function. I can't say exactly what it smelled like because mom said I couldn't say that on the interwebz, but I think you all get what I'm talking about. At first I thought maybe it was just me that smelled it, but then the next second I heard a Sam sniff. We all looked at each other with inquisitive and accusing eyes, until I saw Grace's face twist in reaction to what she smelled and my silent accusations turned to very loud laughter. Then one by one, we said "Wasn't me!" No one claimed it, so we're blaming it on the mentally challenged cow.

I could go on and on about other things said and done on Carroll car trips but I'm afraid that if I keep typing, my laughter will induce pain on my belly and sides again. Then when I start whining about how my body hurts, I fear that I'll flash back to last night when my adorable mommy defended her slow driving style saying "Fast people should thank me for getting in their way so I slow them down and keep them from getting tickets!" ... Oh, the pain!!!

God Giggles

I am convinced that God likes humor. I know He often looks down on me and calls His angel buds over, saying "Look at my girl! Right there! She's absolutely ridiculous! I made her that way!" I'd like to think I bring God a giggle every now and then, maybe with my spontaneous singing of Disney Channel songs, my clumsiness that causes me to run into unsuspecting family members in the house hallway, or my awesome dancing to Owl City tunes (New single drops Tuesday! So excited!) as I'm driving down the highway at possibly higher-than-legal speeds. Well He probably doesn't laugh at the law breaking, but let's change the subject, shall we?

So why do I think God has a sense of humor? Well other than the fact that He made my dad, I think it shows up tons throughout the Bible but we don't take the time to notice it. For instance, check out Matthew chapter 7, particularly verses 39 and 40. A pharisee was complaining about Jesus under his breath, knowing that He wouldn't hear. Just imagine for a moment the look on the man's face when Jesus answered his muttered, incomprehensible complaint. I picture it as shock with his eyes wide and jaw dropped, wondering if maybe he'd gone crazy. This is one of those times when I wish I'd been a fly on the wall to see this man's attempt to regain composure after such a zing from Jesus.

Another part of the Bible that makes me laugh is Numbers 22:1-35. Balaam is traveling when his donkey notices an armed angel on the path before them. The donkey tries several tactics to stop Balaam, first by turning off the path, then running him into a wall, and finally by lying on the ground. Now, Balaam is walking with many officials of the region who are probably looking at him like he's an idiot. What kind of Bible time dude can't control his own donkey?! But then it gets even better. In verse 28, God opened the donkey's mouth and it begins talking to Balaam. Do you read of any shock or even a confused pause of the prophet? No! He carries on a whole conversation with a talking animal without a single stop to check his sanity! It absolutely cracks me up that this entire ordeal would not give him the least bit of alarm. Even though God was angry with Balaam at the moment, I've no doubt that He must have let out a laugh when He saw how his boy couldn't take a hint.

I also think God shows humor in nature. I mean, why else would He create the platypus? (You've no idea how hard I'm fighting to not burst out with the Perry the Platypus theme song right now) It's so weird, a mammal with a duck bill and beaver tail that lays eggs. My guess is the He made it just for fun and to give Himself a giggle. Which makes me wonder, what does a God giggle sound like?! Imma have to find that out eventually, because that has got to be absolutely epic.

Imagination > Animation

It has been way too long since I last posted anything. I would blame my lack of posting on the fact that I've been super busy, but I know my mom would disagree and cite all the tv shows I've spent time watching recently. (Psych and Burn Notice just came back, so I've been absolutely giddy. Totally loving Shules, but Jesse not so much) So I'm not gonna even bother trying to excuse myself and move on to the topic that's been bouncing around in my head all week.

*Ahem*

This week, my friend Katrina and I spent an hour in Walmart shopping for an Operation Christmas Child box. We spent more than half of the time walking down each aisle of the toy department pushing buttons and being thoroughly creeped out by the animated toys. When I was little, we didn't have these toys with moving body parts which hilariously fail to imitate real animals. We had to use our... wait for iiiiit... imaginations!!

Really, I think animation significantly limits the toy's usefulness. Sure, moving arms and legs may be sorta cool in that you don't have to waste allllll that energy to move them yourself. But stuffed kitties with mechanical insides are absolutely no good for cuddling. You can't squeeze their plushy lower half into your Barbie Corvette so they can drag race against the beanie baby on the next shelf. Just give me a toy that does absolutely nothing so that I can make it do whatever I want! Confused? Let Phineas and Ferb explain it:



Genius, right? My favorite Disney boys totally get it. And my favorite Disney toys from Toy Story get it too. Yes, Buzz Lightyear had the wings that pop out and the voice box that apparently has an epic Spanish setting. But practically all the other toys in Andy's room were simple and therefore able to do absolutely anything. At the very end of Toy Story 3 as Andy drops off his toys to the little girl down the street, he hands each one to her while describing just how awesome these individual toys were. He didn't describe their high-tech animations, but rather the characters they played in his imagination which made them a special part of his childhood. *sniffle* I may need a tissue.

Anyways, Katrina and I picked out a little stuffed monkey with no mechanical qualities whatsoever so that the little girl who receives it can make it do whatever she wants. I even tested its cuddliness before putting in the box to be sent to another country. It passed with flying colors. I liked it so much that I may have to buy myself another one. Yes I am almost 22 years old, and I may be purchasing a stuffed critter for myself. As if I didn't have enough already.

Shoeboxes!

I love shopping. I've talked before about just how much I enjoy shopping. But even more than shopping for myself, I enjoy shopping for cutesy things to put in a shoebox which will be sent to an unknown kid in an unknown nation for a Christmas present. Operation Christmas Child, a program run by Samaritan's Purse, takes thousands upon thousands of stuffed shoeboxes to children in poverty-stricken countries. And I LOVE being part of it!

This year, I am the Operation Christmas Child coordinator for my church. Essentially, it's my job to make announcements, answer questions, and get all the church's shoeboxes to the local collection site. How they're all going to fit in my adorable, but small car, I've no idea yet. I normally make one box for a girl, but since I wanted to have examples in the sanctuary, I put together one for a girl and a boy. And I had a blast shopping for the stuff.

After picking up the basic hygiene items, I had more fun than I can remember while dragging that cart through the toy department of the Havelock Walmart. I strolled through the aisles and referred to my list as I ooh'd and aah'd at all the adorable stuffage. And a few times, I may have been guilty of a loud "OHMAHGOSH THAT'S SO CUTE!!!" Fortunately, the store wasn't busy at all at the time, so I got no weird looks around the corner. So after an hour of non-stop cute shopping, I checked out with $60 worth of adorableness. Here's what my girl box looks like:

Now I want to talk about a few of the things I absolutely loved!!

1. The girl's teddy bear. I almost didn't see this lonely critter hiding on the top shelf in the decidedly pink section of the department. But I knew as soon as I touched it that it would end up in my box. It was so ridiculously soft, I had to fight the urge not to massage it like a cat on a comfy blanket. Thinking back on it, I don't even think I looked at the price tag. I just threw it into the cart and went skipping down the aisle.

2. The boy's t-shirt. I did not intend to buy this at all. I was going from one department to another when I passed the little boy's clothes. And then it grabbed my attention - a Buzz Lightyear glow-in-the-dark t-shirt! Excited, I found the size I thought would best fit a boy age 5-9, and it was on clearance for $3! The lucky boy that gets the shirt is gonna be so thrilled when he wears his shirt to bed the night after opening his box and sees the glowing silhouettes of Buzz's ninja-like moves.

3. Coloring books!!! What kid doesn't like to color, right? Heck, I'm almost 22 and I still like to color on occasion! I got a Lisa Frank book full of cats and butterflies for the girl, and then a Disney heroes book complete with Robin Hood and Hercules for the boy. I also got 24-packs of Crayola crayons and some colored pencils in addition to sharpeners for both boxes.

4. The girl's hair accessories. It doesn't matter what country you live in, little girls love playing with hair. I don't know what kind of hair my little girl will have, but she'll have a pretty pink brush along with sparkly butterfly clips and soft hair ties accessorize with! I can just imagine her getting together with all her little girlfriends and getting all prettied up!

5. The boy's toy cars. I know nothing about cars, but I picked up two little Matchbox ones. One is yellow and looks like an old Camaro, and the other is a sleek blue Porche-looking thing. Again, I know nothing about cars, so I may be totally off. But anyways, they look awesome and I'm sure he'll have them speeding down the walkway within an hour of receiving his box. Although I hope his neighbor didn't get a police car in his box, or he could have some unwanted citations...

I got so many other cutesy things like a tiny plush elephant and a sketchbook for the girl, and a ball for the boy. I'm so super excited for the kids who get my boxes! While I may not know the recipients of my boxes, I will be using a new feature that allows to find out where my boxes end up, and I'm so looking forward to that!

Much more important than the tradition of Christmas gift-giving is the meaning behind Christmas itself. God sent Jesus to earth so that He could take our punishment, giving us a way to have a real relationship with the God who made us and loves us dearly. And that's why Samaritan's Purse and I do this. The gifts are awesome and put big smiles on these kid's faces, but while volunteers are handing out the boxes, they're telling these children about God. These shoeboxes can make kid's day, week, or month, but what they could hear from God through this program could change their lives. And I hope and pray that it does!

Thank You, Ladies

Ok so I don't want to talk about politics. I hear enough political discussions on my radio station from Rush Limbaugh and others, and I like to keep my blog generally fun and lighthearted, so this is a politics-free zone. But this was too much fun, I just had to tell you all about it.

I got a letter in the mail today from the Carteret County Democratic Women. I considered burning it, but that would have been rude and mommy would be disappointed. So I curiously opened it to read about the local candidates they were promoting. When promoting a candidate for senate, they took a few lines to talk about all the "horrible" things that the current Republican senator had voted for, one of which was giving tax breaks to the wealthy. I said to myself "But I LIKE all these things this guy voted for! I'm totally voting for this dude in November."

This afternoon, I wrote a thank you letter to the Carteret County Democratic Women. They helped me choose the best candidate for me, so I should at the very least thank them for it, right? It will go out tomorrow morning. Here's what I wrote:

Dear Carteret County Democratic Women,

I would like to thank you for your very informative letter. Because of your efforts, I am even more convinced that voting for Richard Burr is the right choice. Do you realize that when the wealthy have tax cuts, they use the money they save and hire people, therefore stimulating the local economy and providing jobs to those who need them? Again, thank you for your letter and God bless!

Sincerely, Amanda

I nearly put my full name and return address on the card and envelope, but I don't want to be bombarded with all their other propaganda just out of spite. For a moment I thought about putting some baby powder in the card just to have a little extra fun and scare them. But that might have backfired, possibly giving them a chance to show up on the news due to an Anthrax scare and promote their cause. They ain't getting no free publicity because of me, no sir!

Speaking of which, I don't get the point of these ads and letters talking about your opponents issues. All it does is provide free advertising for your enemy! Why don't you just talk about what your issues are instead of what your opponent stands for? Oh well. I may never understand political campaigning. I'll be so happy when elections are over... and the Carteret County Democratic Women are mourning all their political losses.

Now, please no political comments in my comment boxes. You can talk about my awesome
political activism, but remember, this is a politics-free zone. Thank you.

I Don't Do Mornings

Last Friday, my family took a mini vacation to the Outer Banks to see my mom's aunt at her cute little beach house in Cape Hatteras, and then up to Chesapeake to see some of my dad's side of the family. The trip was quite nice, except for the part where we had to get up at 4 am in order to make the first ferry from Cedar Island to Ocracoke. I didn't even know that 4 o'clock came twice a day until then.

When I was little, I would annoy my mom because I would wake up with the sun. I was always excited the start the day. Oh how silly I was! Now that I am older and more understanding of the value of sleep (and sleeping late), I take the beginning of Psalm 127:2 to heart, "It is vain for you to rise up early." Amen! I still have to work on the next part of the verse that talks about not staying up late... but I LOVE the last part that says "He gives His beloved sleep," so I try to take full advantage of that gift. I don't wanna waste it!

So yeah, I do not like mornings. I don't even want to be talked to until I've been awake for an hour, and no amount of coffee can change that one hour restriction. And if I am talked to, I respond in incomprehensible moans and growls. I discovered a verse recently that I think justifies this state of morning hatred in Proverbs 27:14, "He who blesses his friend with a loud voice, rising early in the morning, It will be counted a curse to him." I seriously laughed when I first read this. God tries so hard to give us some common sense, don't He? Ok, so it doesn't completely justify my morning grouchies, but it warns perky morning people that evening people don't take kindly to sweet words in the early hours. If only people understood that!!!

I think that God Himself understands the horribleness of mornings. In Lamentations 3:22-23, it describes how His mercies are new each morning. Why should they be new each morning? Because He knows just how annoying they are, and therefore how much more we need those mercies! So am I irrational to think that mornings are so awful? According to the Bible, I think not!

Disclaimer: Yes, I know that I completely took some of these passages out of context and did not discuss their meanings correctly. But I know it got you thinkin'. ;)