a blogger game

I know that some of my readers have blogs, and others do not, but either way - it's fun to read blogs, right?! It's a socio-technological phenomenon if you ask me.  It's completely different than any other social networking website. Sure, you can write a "Note" on Facebook but in all honesty, who really reads their friends' "Notes?"  We don't go to the public library down the street to check out a book on "How To Make Curtains" or to find a "Country Stew" recipe... or, at least I don't! We go to our Blogger dashboards or we go to our Google Readers. But, for a lot of us in the "blogging community," we do more than use blogs for our references and resources. We find friends, we play games, we inspire creativity, we for sub-groups: the travel lovers, the dog lovers, the creative geniuses, the special needs educators, etc. It's amazing... and you meet friends!

One of my favorite Blogger friends is Becca at Life In Technicolor. Her blog, sub-titled "the musings of an artsy editor" is one that I frequent. She's a lover of the Lord, a lover of Journalism, a lover of vinyl records, and many other things that we have in common. She is a lover of life - which makes it all the more better to know that she tagged me in this fun "game" that is linked all over blogger and around the world. It's fascinating to wonder how many people are in on this... and just how true the six degrees of separation really is - especially in our whimsical world of socio-technology! She asked me to fill out these 8 Questions below... then, I'll tag a few of my other blogger friends and hope the trend continues to link others. (If you're not a "follower" in my Google section, sign in with a Google, Twitter, or Facebook name and jump in on the fun! You truly are missing out!)

1. If you were a geometric shape what would you like to be? A circle... un-jaded, un-breakable, completely put together, and well-rounded --> of course!


2. What is your favorite animal and why? Horses (a Palomino to be exact!) I think they are the most beautiful of God's creation. I used to be a rider, Western-only... none of that English saddle, preppy boots, and 'posting.'  I've always been a rugged Cowboy boot lover, and nothing's more fun than a good ride on a Western-saddle. One day, I hope to have horses and offer a summer camp to children with disabilties.

3. What song on the radio right now is currently at the top of your guilty pleasure list? "You're Love Is My Drug" by Ke$ha. (I know, I know!)

4. If you were lost in the forest alone and a bear came up to you, what would you do? Soil my pants. Just being honest.

5. In your opinion, what is the most annoying show on tv? True Blood. I hate vampire crap!


6. What is the strangest thing you've ever eaten? Squid soup. My roomie's mother is Korean and she always sends some down. I like it :)


7. What are your thoughts on 2012? Just another year that the Lord will bless us with if it is in his plan to do so.

8. What's the craziest excuse you've came up with to skip work for a day? It totally wasn't an excuse, but it brought a lot of laughs. When I was a hostess at a swanky Gulf-style seafood restaurant in downtown Tuscaloosa (Chuck's Fish) I had to call my manager (who is also my friend and was my friend before I was hired) and say: 'I did a 40-minute ab workout on my OnDemand last night and I can't move. I had to be dropped off and picked up at class today." He just laughed and said, "Only Baily Jones would call and say that." (words of advice: 40-minute ab workouts need stretching, warming up, and cooling down, just as much as a 2-hour workout. Ohhh.. Myyyyy.... Gaaaahhh... I was in serious pain!)

I'm tagging these people to be the next links in this survey-game, which served as a good study-break and an easy way to clear my head! Join me, girls :)

1. Moonpies and Fireflies
2. Moonflowers, Mojitos, and Me
3. Seabird
4. Team Southards
5. Lindsey's Blog

6. Kayley's Blog

peaceandlove

bee jay jay

picture i framed today:

(freak)in' stressed

Hello lovelies! My inner-Carrie is in full force and the only de-stresser for me right now isn't aromatherapy. It's writing. It's one of those days.

You know those days when you wish you were laying in your own cabana on the private beach that you share with no one? That private paradise, even if it's just for an hour or two - reading a dirty romance novel or the newest Nicholas Sparks book? Or... since that's a far-fetched fantasy, it's more like one of those days where the only thing that's going to make you happy is hitting the jackpot at a killer shoe sale.

I have a bad case of 'the Mondays,' so what...!?! What doesn't kill you make you stronger, right? Or it's water under the bridge, a lesson learned, whatev. The hardest stress is the one that waits on you the next day, not giving you a clean slate, or a chance to come up for air.  A major stress, in my case, is my resource management. Not just my mistakes in managing my own resources gives me stress, but literally, the study of resource management that I am being lectured and testing in this summer. So much work, so much exhaustion, so much excitement for it to soon be done.

Sorry to everyone who has to deal with my stresses and deals with the end results of my exhaustion. I know I am serious case of 'the crazies' sometimes, but I promise it's just part of the little freak that I am. I love you all though, dearly, and I hope you know that even though I seem like I'm from a different planet sometimes, I'm really not... and after all my unfinished pieces are complete, I will be a more pleasant and a more earthling-like little freakazoid.

I received a Facebook message today that had written: "You remind me of a young Carrie Bradshaw," which I later used to explain why I was mentally a wreck today as I said, "I feel like being the Carrie Bradshaw in me today." I was analyzing everything and going up and down with my emotions but balanced it with my cynicism and ignorance. I was absolutely my inner-Carrie today, and I needed to write.

She's my inspiration for writing. Just to see the image of her sitting at her laptop with a coffee, cocktail, or cigarette and writing about her life, love, and inbetweens, is inspiration to give me something to write about. When I imagine that shot of her at her laptop, I can't help but hear Carrie's voice-over phrasing, "I couldn't help but wonder."

So when I'm having one of those days that I'm not the most pleasant little miss thing, I go to my Sex and the City quotes page, and let her speak to me. I'm sharing my favorite "find" in the quote pile tonight. It's de-stressed me before, you know my quotes aren't just my guilty pleasure, they're my aromatherapy. 'Goodnight, Lovers!'

peace & love(you all very much)

baily

"Eventually all the pieces fall into place...

until then, laugh at the confusion,

live for the moment, and know that

everything happens for a reason."

 -Carrie Bradshaw

(Sex and the City)

quoted: summer and tom

Narrator: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Tom Hansen, grew up believing that he'd never truly be happy until the day he met the one. The girl, Summer Finn, did not share this belief. Tom meets Summer on January 8th. He knows almost immediately she is who he has been searching for. This is a story about boy meets girl, but you should know up front, this is not a love story.

Summer: There's no such thing as love. It's a fantasy.

Tom: It's official. I'm in love with Summer. I love her smile. I love her hair. I love her knees. I love how she licks her lips before she talks. I love her heart-shaped birthmark on her neck. I love it when she sleeps. I love how she makes me feel.

Summer: Ok, I like being on my own. I think relationships are messy and people's feelings get hurt. Who needs it? We're young, we live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, might as well have fun while we can and, save the serious stuff for later.
Tom: What happens when you fall in love?
Summer: Love. You don't believe in that, do you?
Tom:  What? It's love, not Santa Claus.Tom: Either she's an evil, emotionless, miserable human being, or... she's a robot.




Tom: Did you ever even have a boyfriend?
Summer: Of course.
Tom: What happened, why didn't they work out?
Summer: What always happens??? Life.

Narrator: As he listened, Tom began to realize these weren't stories routinely told; these were stories one had to earn. He could feel the wall coming down. He wondered if anyone else had made it this far, which is why the next six words changed everything.
Summer: I've never told anybody that before.
Tom: I guess I'm not just anyone.
 Summer: You weren't wrong, Tom. You were just wrong about me.

Summer: I named my cat after Springstein...
Tom: What's his name?
Summer: .....Bruce.

Tom: I hate her crooked teeth. I hate the way she smacks her lips. I hate her knobby knees. I hate that cockroach-shaped splotch on her neck.

Tom: You know what sucks? Realizing that everything you believe in is complete and utter bullshit.

Tom's sister: Get over her.
Tom: I don't want to get over here. I want to get her back.

Summer Finn's favorite quote in her high school yearbook:
Color my life with the chaos of trouble.

500 days of summer

I'm a movie freak. I always have been, even before I realized it. I am convinced that the reason I have to squint my eyes to look at my computer screen, whether I have my prescription eye-glasses on or not, is because I sat in front of the killer-high-tech televisions from the late 80s watching Peter Pan over and over and over again.  My mother always tell me that story, I'd say.. "Do it again, do it again!..." and I'd watch it all over again. It's really funny to think about how much that must have fooled my parents. I, literally, have not sat still for that long since the last time they popped that bad boy into the VHS player.  It's okay, though, because my mom tricked me into helping her clean by putting an "educational video" in and letting it do it's work on me. And by educational, I mean that it was a sing-along to "Whistle While You Work" and documented a day in the (custodial) life of Daisy, Donald, Goofy, Minnie, and Mickey as they broomed and swept the entire grounds of Disney World. I guess it was better than how the kids have it these days, with a big purple dinosaur that sings 'clean up' songs with what sounds like one wretched sinus infection.

Anywho, I love movies. Just like songs, I apply them to my life. Here are a list of my favorites - and if you know anything about me, then you can probably see why all of them seem to "fit" in this movie lover's "favs" pile:

• Forrest Gump
• Almost Famous
• 500 Days of Summer
• Thelma and Louise
• When Harry Met Sally
• Steel Magnolias
• Sweet November
• Taking Woodstock
• Walk The Line
• Riding In Cars With Boys
• The Notebook
• Unfaithful

Lots of favs... I had to just stop there, could've kept going. Let me just tell you, with a pile of favorites that big, it is hard to explain how much you miss watching them when you realize life has left little time for things like sitting down for 2+ hours and watching a movie. Especially hard to explain to the guy you are dating, who happens to not give a rat's behind about what is playing in theaters.
This is a normal line I mutter almost everyday, "You need to watch movies. It's weird that you don't watch movies or that much television, even. Do you realize how disconnected from the world you are?"
Not that I would trade a single thing about him, but I do think a good movie, regardless of the drama, can help with the every day realities of life. I mean, think about it, why do we watch movies?  To escape, to be inspired, to see new places, things, and people that we might not otherwise get to see. We go back in history, we push forward with technology to enhance the fantastical imagery of what mankind's future endeavors entail. We enjoy it, that's why we pay the arm and a leg (and pretty soon they'll have us signing over the rights to our first child), to go to a movie and eat extra-buttered popcorn and drink a Coke that is watered-down before the previews are over. "Gee, thanks, thought I was getting a medium Coke, not a bucket of it."
Well, I finally convinced ol' cutie-pa-tootie to watch 500 Days of Summer with me.
After all, I don't know how many people called me from the theater to tell me that it was the story of Chace and I. The movie came out this past summer but I never caught it in theaters. I was so eager to see what they meant by that, because Chace and I weren't a couple then.  That goes without saying much, though. We met five years ago and that was the beginning, and we never really ended. I was a cynic who convinced myself that I was fine being alone. He has always been more un-jaded than me. Instead of dating every wrong Tom, Dick, and Harry like I did, he knew there was something special about one girl and one girl only so he patiently waited. Until about breakup #4 for me when he said he couldn't wait around being my friend and watching me let people walk all over me, when it was so obvious that we were never "just friends."  
At about the beginning of February, I finally watched this movie that everyone said I would love and that would make me think of Chace and I's relationship. My mom even called to tell me that, so that's when I couldn't handle it anymore and rented it.
The next day, I got an email from Chace. Sort of out of the blue, sort of not. That email changed everything and was a major gear shift in getting us back in sync with one another by the end of March, and a couple by April. The email was probably going to be sent on that day whether I watched 500 Days of Summer that night or not. But I think the movie did help me realize a few things.
I let my guard down, I let things happen, and I no longer trained myself to not buy into the whole love b.s.
So, we had a good time the other night watching it, and reliving some of my colder hearted days which we both have found humor rather than anger in.
Everybody needs to watch it. Don't be square.
I'm posting quotes from the movie that I not only love, but find very relevant to my cynic
side from back in the day. The way Tom, the main character, talks about Summer is very familiar to the way things were back then and are now for the two of us. Enjoy!

PeaceandLove

Baily

why cheerleaders hate me

You know what book I really love? "Hate Mail From Cheerleaders" - it's a compilation of Rick Rielly's sports' column on the last page of SportsIllustrated. I started reading it again today - found it in my trunk (always a mess & sometimes a treasure chest).  I found it appropriate to read from today since cheer nation has infested my darling Alabama campus.  Every summer I am guaranteed two things. ONE, I will come VERY close to beating the crap out of one of these little brats with her spirit stick when she forgets that I am a student and not a camper, therefore would like to order my double cheeseburger and french fries and un-Diet Coke without looks of disgust and whispers about my calorie in-take. And TWO, I will, at some point and probably more than once (or six times), obnoxiously lay on my horn when a couple of high school seniors forget that they don't "own this place" like they do their 3A high school, and not only jay walk in front of me on MY campus, but practice their routine, while jay walking in front of me. Sorry for being obnoxious with the horn, I was merely trying to speak cheer language.  Anywho, that's why I vented about my cheer-phobia with my fav columnist, Rick Reilly. He shares the belief that cheerleading isn't a sport and he is in large part responsible for inspiring me to write my infamous 'Just Jones It' sports' column my junior year of high school that, not only is to blame for my gmail inbox getting blown up with incredibly hateful e-mails from the cheerleading squad, but is also to blame for my mean, pink Post-It note death threat that read:
Since we're not a sport, we'd love to have you at practice today to admire your skills at what we do. -Senior Cheerleaders '04

This ordeal is funny -well hilarious actually - to me now, but earlier I used the term 'cheerleading squad' and what I meant to say was 'small army'.  The '04 cheer militia pretty much loved to hate me, and there was a ton of them. I guarantee you there were more members on that OHS cheerleading squad than there were buzzed heads walking around The Citadel campus on any given day. (Ok, maybe not that many, but close to it!) Let's just say that I successfully pissed off about 25 bia-bias in orange skirts - according to my pink post-it I found in my locker about... eh... 25 minutes after our school newspaper got back from going to press and was delivered to the 3,200 guys and gals that made up our super-sized student body. Some say you can spot the Great Wall of China, the Egyptian Pyramids, and the OHS Cheerleading Squad from outerspace ( only when they wear the orange uniforms, duh). At the time this blog post was published, NASA had yet to confirm this theory.

Let me try one last time to un-declare war amongst me and the pom-pom mafia.

1. I said it wasn't a sport, and I have a right to my opinion today, just as I did when the original publication went to press (Fall 2004). fyi, my opinion stays unchanged.

2. I said you girls were athletes. One must be athletic to jump, bend, twirl, fly, throw, flip, twist, tuck, clap/suction the hands, bob the head, thrust the pelvis, and point the toes. All the while smiling at the crowd of people cheer moms and screaming out football terminology from three plays back. My bad, the people cheer moms are all watching the football game that's going on behind behind you. (The special teams are in to punt, but y'all are still doing that "1st and 10, Do It Again!" chant).

3. I'm still laughing at your invitation to come 'show you my skills.' I'm a sportsman, not one for the Fine Arts.... so, how about 'no!'

Here's what I have to say to that, five and a half years later.

• The Lions Tale usually had a press deadline that fell on a Friday. Which really meant that we got it out Monday morning NIGHT. Therefore, it usually came out on a Tuesday. Tuesday in Baily's World meant one thing: speed workout day.
• Speed Workout Day: the cross-country runner's day from hell. Usually consist of four 1mile repeats. Whether we ran these mile splits on the 103 degree asphalt or on the trails at the cemetary always Depended on how immature/mature the JV Boys' cross-country team was during the team meeting (which was made up of 9 slow and egotistical members of the Varsity wrestling team and approximately 13 state champions rings). And so it goes... 9 out of 10 times the wrestler's pretending to be cross-country runners would act like infants, which in turn caused me to bitch them out, which resulted in a hot afternoon on OHS's ghetto-ass track doing sub-6:30:00 mile splits. 
•  Which leads me to this point, you Cheer Camper you... I will humor you with my toe touches and bowlegged, wobbly-kneed stunts if you can make it around that track four times in six and a half minutes. But listen, since I 'offended' you, I'll give you a 7min split time since a few of you about croaked last Friday night getting to the endzone to lead the cheer. But, stretch! 4 miles in 28 minutes is a lot harder than the two 'warm-up' laps you do around the indoor lunch room of ours.
• I won't call you 3 out, but one of you is the main suspect in the Post-It detective file. The only suspense is what senior in high school still dots her i's with a heart. In a threat, on a pink Post-It note. FAIL.
• When I wasn't in a fight with the real-life A.C. Slaters, I joined them on their immaturity level during  warm-ups and cool-downs. Usually because they half-ass cared for cross-country and were just trying to cut weight for wrestling season, so they would sneak us in to the AC to do our cool-downs if the temptation was even slightly there. Very immaturely, we put bets on which one of the three was walking with a side-stitch after her 2 laps around the lunch tables. Conversion: half a lap around the track.

I guess I bit my tongue for once in my life and didn't explain this sooner. I don't expect anyone to care now that five years has gone by, but I doubt anyone cared five years ago either. I was inspired by a book that a sports enthusiast/genius wrote, and I wrote what came to mind. A lot of the 2005 girls who were my best friends were members of the short skirt mafia, and I love them dearly and respect what they do. They just rubbed me off as being a cynical tomboy whose hair wasn't pulled back into a mind-altering coma that brainwashed me into a cheer cult like theirs was. Ha... and here I was thinking y'all just had a thing for unnatural ringlets and hair nets. Rah! Rah! (Shish-Koom-Ba!)

cheer coma

a whole new meaning to late-onset developmental delay, or traumatic brain injury.

(image: google images)

I feel less bad for the very decorated toy poodle I saw at breakfast this morning. Peaches probably didn't have to wear a hair net, and Peaches is a lap dog (scale: Missy's hairbow weighs 12 lbs. Peaches weighs 13 lbs.) Nevermind, I'm siding with Peaches. Missy is old enough to know right from wrong and THAT. IS. WRONG.

Anyway, sorry I never made it to cheer practice that day, girls. The threating tone mixed with the whole heart shape dotted 'i' thing really had me confused.  I might have taken it more seriously if you woulda been all like "you just got served" about it by doing a little jazz-hand number and a simple, to the point bitch comment like "Bring It On!"
That movie's a classic, right? Up there with Casablanca, Citizen Kane, Gone With The Wind, and Bring It On.

(I'm rolling my eyes and 'for real' gagging this time).

Hate mail? Comment below. Not sure if there's a computer formula to make the dot in your 'i' a heart but the ol' less than sign (<) paired with a three (3) always works pretty good... but you already knew that, I'm being silly. I think they teach it at cheer camp!

rah rah rah <3 <3 <3 love and peace <3 <3 <3 rah rah rah

bjj

before any current or former mafia member is about to get all west-siiiiide on me let me remind you of a few more smart-alec points...

1. a columnist has an entirely different code of ethics than a reporter. political correctness is not required, bias opinions are greatly encouraged.

2. my name was on the by-line which means I fully endorse my opinions

3. i fully supported the cheer troops at competitions because some of you are my friends

4. re-itterated: i cheered for cheerleaders who were cheering for a score by the judges, not for a score on the stadium scoreboard.

5. i'm probably bow-legged and wobbly-kneed from all that lactic acid build up in my muscles from playing my SPORTS.

6. I could have guessed which 3 west-siders gained 50lbs post-grad.

7. Hell no, I can't run sub-06min30second mile repeats anymore but I don't see too many basket-tosses in your near future there either, Thunder Thighs.

8. And for crying out loud, whoEVER thought making a suction cup of the palms of your hands was a revolutionary form of clapping needs to chill out with all the cheer competition coma idealogy.

HAHAHAHAHA. This one might even make Nick Saban show a little grin. Funny, silly, spirited girls! (Insert overly obvious eye-roll or 'gag me' gesture here)

and add a little consideration for the un-cheery type to all that spirit and wait until you get to 'nationals' at disney world to rehearse. I am, I'm excited about my trip home to Orlando, and excited about how inexpensive this SouthWest Airlines ticket was, I just forgot to put on my silver glitter eyeshadow... my bad. Pardon me while I read "Hate Mail From Cheerleaders" and cuss myself for not planning my trip on any of the other 51 weekends this year.

Nothing is worse than a plane full of Alabama's perkiest, peppiest, bufont-haired girls who are Disney-bound for the first time since they were in the toddler age group in the beauty pageants. Wait, yes there is..... their MOMS! Yep, there they are. Hard to miss their beloved title, "Cheer Mom," spelled out in horrible clumps of glitter and confetti on every single accessory and item of clothing that they own.

Ok I'm done. I just re-read my cynical rant and I'm disgusted at #5 up there.

I cheered for cheerleaders who were cheering for no one.

Sweet. I could have done something better with that 4 hours of my life. Take up a new sport or something: you know, like bowling or poker or bass fishing. The stuff that's on ESPN.

p.s. we appreciate the bloomers, but I probably would have taken you more seriously if you had left the paw prints off your ass cheeks.

Game over.

And THAT is why you are not a sport. No sport, or athlete, or fan that I know of considers a gay man's banana hammock a piece of sports equipment.

words of wisdom to cheerleaders everywhere: when in doubt, don't ask your mom.

because THAT up there happens.

and this girl down here truly believes that the roach-sized star stamped on her temple is going to earn her squad-army some bonus spirit points! (1, 2, 3, 4, like totally... ok!)

however, she seeing different stars as a result of her cheer-coma.

Hey Casper... your hairline is bleeding.

blast from the past

guess when this handsome picture was taken.....?

this was taken at Chaceface's 22nd Birthday. October of 2008.

Sweet memories.

Then he graduated (early, yuck!) and left me to fend for myself in Tuscaloosa.

Couldn't handle it, though... snagged him back up this past March.

They always come back, don't they Chace? Just don't know how good they had it until it's gone.

By they, I mean I.

peaceandlove

baily

spread the love wednesday

"You desire to know the art of living, my friend? It is contained in one phrase: make use of suffering."

-Henri-Frederic Amiel

a peep @ a bloggy journal entry

day five: dedicate your journal entry to your favorite blogs

@

 peaceandlovebaily

tests and testimonies

So, how bad did you miss me? I haven't realized how non-bloggy I've been lately. I promise, I've been keeping busy with school and somewhat of a social life. Plus, I went on my trip to my hometown for my best friend's wedding. It was beautiful, and I will be sure to blog about it soon.  What's so crazy, is that at the wedding I learned about all of these readers of my blog that I wasn't exactly aware of. I think it's so cool that people are reading what I write, even if they don't sign up for a Google account to be my "follower"... cough cough! But, really, hello to everyone that reads about my beautiful and tragic life as a twenty-something year old!! Haha... any new readers... proceed with caution!!

My sissy over at Moonpies and Fireflies has been getting her blog off to a good start with the 30-Day Challenge thing. It's so weird how I was getting into the 30-Day Challenge and was on like Day 7 or something when the fire flipped my world upside down... don'tcha think? You know what's even weirder... that the day before the fire the prompt was to write about a picture that made you sad. I posted a picture of one of our military veterans that is living homeless in our country right now. That does make me sad, even more now than ever, but it's funny to think how mysterious God really is in his ways. The day before the fire I was crying out for sympathy for the homeless Americans who have nothing to their name. The many Americans that aren't as fortunate as I am and don't get to replace all their belongings with an insurance claims check. The fire that took their possessions, literally took their possessions. I remember thinking about fire victims that very day. Because, remember?? I kept making comments earlier that weekend that I have no fire alarm in my room or fire estinguisher in my house. I was almost fearful of the fire before it even happened. Is that what made me handle it so well? Is that why I knew to just get everyone and all the dogs out of the house and to not go save that pile of David Yurman that was dancing in the line of fire?

I guess so. Seems mysterious. Must be God.

Just like the blog I wrote that very day about my faith and how God always does something huge and very trying in order to strengthen my relationship with him. Strange, huh? He was preparing me.  In all the ways - physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Duh - I get it now... pretty sneaky there, God!

I wish I could put it into words, the way that I feel day in and day out. I really can't, but the best way I've come to describe it is that I'm living in a twilight zone. I literally live each day from start to finish and worry about the next when it comes. Lately, I've been better about responsibly planning ahead as far as studying and work because of how my school/internship started at the beginning of the month, but ever since the fire it has really just felt like I'm living in a whole different world than before. Spiritually, mentally, physically. Nothing in my room was here before the fire. Everything is new, borrowed, or thrifted. New pictures, new clothes, new bedding, new journals, new books. It's a very odd feeling.

Like, I said earlier, when I was at home I learned about all of these friends of my parents' that read my blog. A couple of my mom's friends and mom's of some of my own friends (that's a tongue twister) would let me introduce them to Chace before they'd say, "oh, I know who that is, I read about him all the time!!" He would just wink at me because he just eats it up when people say I should have stuck with journalism or if I'm complimented on my writing in any way. See, Chace has always pictured me as this spunky little sports' journalist or this free-spirited creative writer that can turn any prompt into something. He is soooo much like my dad, by the way. Freaky deaky. Dad sees me being a writer one day, too.  He thinks all of my passions for developmental disorders, advocacy, writing, campaigns, feminism, etc. can come together and make a rewarding career. Ever since he put that idea in my head of putting my passions together rather than chosing between them, I have been eager to see what I can do or what difference I can make once I have that opportunity. But, not yet. Remember... one day at a time. That's how it goes here in The Twilight Zone.

Speaking of taking it one day at a time, let me just tell one more story about that mysterious Man. The fire happened on a Tuesday the 13th (lucky 13, huh?) and on Sunday the 11th of April, I went to First Baptist Trussville with my sissy, her hubs, Momma, Daddy, Nana, and Papaw. I kept ranting and raving about their Pastor, Buddy Champion. I kept saying how I loved that series he kicked off that day called "iStress" and how I was going to come back and hear him preach that series. It was about stress and how the best "app" for the stresses in life was the Bible. I highlighted the scripture (which was mostly Psalm 23, but a few others), dated it, marked it with the series name and cited Buddy Champion as the preacher. Next to it was my sixth grade handwriting and the date that a church member told me to always refer to Psalm 23 when I was scared about the cancer that threatened my Dad. To this day, I'll never forget that moment when Mark and Janice McCallister prayed with my family at Wednesday night supper and Janice told me that passage. And years from now I will still remember how protected by the Lord I felt when I realized one of the other Bible verses that I highlighted that day, April 11th, was also the ending verse to a passage that would be read to me the morning after the fire and that I would cling to in the days, weeks, now months after that dreaded night of April 13th.

Matthew 6:34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
( see the entire passage I have cited in my new Bible as "my fire passage" by clicking on the link: Do Not Worry (Matthew 6:25-34, NIV) )

My sister read it to me that Wednesday morning as we drove to the fire department to pick up the fire report from the night before. I already had goosebumps from the passage before it, and then as the last verse was read, I felt a vivid awakening from the Lord. He was protecting me, and I was going to be okay. I sifted through ash and soot, I showered and turned the bath water dark grey, I went to Wal-Mart with limited complaining, I slaved in the laundry mat, I wrote list after list after list, I shopped, I studied, I commuted, I missed my dog, I missed my things, I missed friends, I missed my life. I cried. I screamed. I did it all. And you know what? I was ok. I had just been reminded that Psalm 23 can get me through the stress that iStressed. I didn't worry about the next day, I just got through the one that had been given to me. I made quiet time and reading the Bible a very big part of each of those days, though, and that's why I wasn't lying when I answered everyone this weekend when they asked how I was doing and how I've handled it so well. I told them I'm fine, because I am, even though my life could set the scene for an Alfred Hitchcock movie. And I've been able to get through it because I cling to that old rugged cross. Me and Alan Jackson's playlist on my computer belt out his 'Precious Memories' album. All those old Southern Gospel songs... love 'em. I still scream my Janis, but I haven't had to in a while. I still love my girl, don't get me wrong, but I've been in more of a Gospel and Beatles singing mode these days. Janis was always sad... or being a hard@$$ so I haven't had to be in that mood really. The way I look at things from within The Twilight Zone is this - if I'm going to start over, jump into this new beginning, clean slate, fresh start, then shouldn't I use this as that turning point I so often longed for before the fire?? I mean, in my head I couldn't wait to get out of school so I could start over. I'd join a church up here, I'd start going to a Sunday school class, and so forth.  But when I went home for Spring Break, I stayed for the second sermon that morning because I was so moved by it the first time, I needed to hear it again. I was being preached to as if I was the only person in the building besides Pastor Mercer that morning, both services. This was the first tug at my heart to better my life at that time, instead of waiting for a fresh start after graduation. The tugging on my heart, the closeness I feel to God, it all started at Spring Break in my hometown church on Sunday March 14th. A month of drawing closer to him and a month of preparing me for a fire that was going to change my life forever. Mysteriously comforting.

I might just have to add this testimony to my list of passions up there. Maybe I can write a book about it. "The Beautiful and Tragic Life of a Twenty-Something Year Old... and the fire that made it more tragic and even more beautiful." Probably no 'Best-Seller' but if Hitchcock were still alive, he'd dig it.

peaceandlove

baily jordan

school first, blog second... sorrry

So, most of y'all know - I'm a journaler. I love my journals. Obsessed. I may not have any furniture to my name right now, but I have a journal stand set up in my newly renovated room. When I'm not telling all the details to my weird little life on this blog, I am recording the top secret stuff in my journals. I doodle. I sketch. I write diary entries, I write song lyrics, I write bucket lists, and I write bible scripture and feelings I have during my quiet times, I write mean things about what I'm angry at, and I write love-filled entries... these journals are pretty entertaining.

That's why I was so upset about the journals that I lost in the fire. The journal itself can be replaced, but those deep down feelings aren't recorded anywhere else. Not on my blog, not on my facebook statuses, but the ones that probably would best explain why I'm so eclectic and funky. But, I can't dwell in the past... there is no point to it. What is done is done, right? I'm so fortunate for all the friends and family members that sent me journals because they know that I'm one of "those weird journal people." I've enjoyed starting over and recording my 'new beginning' in these journals that were bought out of love and compassion for me when I was going through such a tough time. That being said, these journals are the most special ones. They truly are a reflection of my new life after the fire.

I follow a lot of creative-expressive type blogs. They're awesome.. check them out by clicking on the links: Run With Scissors and The Life of a Cupcake and A Beautiful Mess and Smile and Wave, to name a few. Here recently, I have started a new journal with the Run With Scissors blog community. It's a 30Day Challenge that involves a prompt that she post and a group on flickr that uploads photos of our own unique creations that we made in our personal journals inspired by her prompt. I think it's going to be really fun, I'm already off to a good start... but I am not active on the flickr group. I know, I need to get on that... but I am lucky if I stay caught up on the journals, because we all know I get side-tracked... and since the only thing that can distract me from being a better blogger and journaler, is school, so obvi that's a good thing... let's hear it for the girl!





I posted the link to the Run With Scissors journal challenge on my sister's facebook wall. I wasn't sure if she would want to do it or not... she stays super busy being a full-time nurse, a graduate student, and a full-time wife. She's fantastic at all of the above, and the best part about it is that she is back in action as a blogger so that means she makes time in her day to share her stories about her, like I said - fantastic, life journey after all the other things she has on her agenda in each of her roles. It seems like you wouldn't have any "me" time after all the hard work she puts in to the earnst success she has in life. But she does... and she is journaling! I'm horribly excited about this... I told my mom that my free-spirit is rubbing off on my sissy. She was trying on clothes that I was totally diggin' when I went shopping with her before her trip to the Bahamas. I can usually sweet-talk my way into borrowing a top every now and then. So, can I borrow that lime green linen-ish shirt sissy? One day.. please?! I love my sissy.

If I can figure out this SDcard converter that I had to get for my new camera, I will post pictures of the wedding in Orlando this weekend. And, maybe I'll give you a peep at some of my 30Day Journal Challenge creations. If you're feeling creative, you should journal along! It's healing to the upmost degree! Trust.

Computer Geeks: About this SDcard thing... what am I doing wrong that makes me think this thing is demonous? Please help!

peaceandlove

bjj

fill in the blank thursday

fill
in
the

blank

thursday

1. The very best thing about the summer is beer and boats and music and friends and Daisy Duke shorts and bikinis

2. My first crush ever was on my neighbor, Zac Warren, who lived at the top of Shackleford Court. He kissed me when I was in my tu-tu and going to my dance recital in kindergarten. He also serenaded me, quite frequently, with "Achy Breaky Heart" by Billy Ray Cyrus. I'm so not kidding. 

3. This may sound really silly but as much as I love music, I don't own an iPod. I guess I'm going to break down and get one, but I'd rather spend my money on old vinyl records that smell like mothballs than all the new-age stuff that 'the kids' are into these days. But then I think, what if you have a little gypsy of a daughter and she wants your old throw-back iPod to sport around all vintage-like. If I have a little hellian hippie child that's anything like me, then I oughta at least do it for her.  Just like I am about my dad's vinyls and my mom's seventies jewelry/purses/scarfs and whatnot. And my RayBan aviators... they're my mom's from the early '90s.

4. I squeeze my toothpaste from the middle of the tube. And make a mess every morning doing so. (I'm sorry, E!)

 

5. My absolute favorite "comfort food" is Mom's spaghetti. 

6. A random fact about me is I have 6 fake teeth and the hairiest arms in the world. That's why I've shaved my arms since 6th grade.

 

7. The one piece of technology that truly makes my life better and I couldn't live without is texting. I'm not a phone-talker; I'm a texter. There are only two types of people in the world... phone-talkers and texters. I don't trust people that don't text message. It's like, do you still ask to use payphones, too?

Come on, people. Text message. It's to the point. I understand talking on the phone to catch up and I am completely aware that some information is only possible to communicate when you can add the tone, seriousness, etc. But, let's be serious people, is that your beeper going off? You still have a beeper? (I know, I'm being a hypocrit - I don't use an iPod and voluntarily use media equipment, like my wooden record player, that was introduced five decades ago.) But at least I am aware of the fact that iTunes and iPods and MP3s are much more punctual than a needle and a turntable and I am aware of the new technology that doesn't require me to flip the record every 5 songs. People that are opposed to texting, they don't understand how much more stuff can be done when information is given to you via text message instead of having to be on the phone all day long. I'm a writer, I'd rather write my opinion and feelings than talk about them. That's why you guys, my readers, get stuck with hearing about my beautiful and tragic life as a twenty-something year old. But hey, at least you get to just read it and chose to respond or not. On the phone, it's like you're being cornered and forced to respond to someone's story about whatever it was that you quit listening to like 10 minutes before. You know exactly what I mean, and just because I say it brutally (but honestly) doesn't make me a bad person. I like to talk on the phone, but not to everyone I am in touch with on a daily basis, so I prefer me some text messaging. (This is an ongoing subject in conversation with Chace, my sissy, and Tyler. They love phone talking, we hate it.) It's weird, though, because my whole family is very text savvy! 

peaceandlove

baily

I am on my way to the airport now! Orlando-bound to see my bff get hitched. I can't wait!

i write it out, van morrison sings to me, and everything is good again

So guess what has been happening to me lately? These 'phriends' that I've been talking about, you know the one's that are a cross between what is a 'phony' and what is a true 'friend.' Well, I have all of a suddenly started to hear from some of them. Like they were all in "still mode" for so long and then time went by and they reset themselves and boom! they were all hitting me up at once. I will call them my 'phriends' in this one particular way in this blogpost but do not get them confused with my "Phriends," in the sense that this type of Phriend are the friends of mine who also share a love for the jamband PHISH. Hahaha. Woah. Come to think of it - one of them is a rather intense 'Phriend' (in the jamband loving way), and then there is another PHISH-loving 'Phriend' that I heard from out of the blue recently (he was never a phony though, however we did lose touch in the hustle and bustle of these past couple of months). I phriggin' love him though. (HELLO over there on the Left Coast, moonchild!) - He calls me Sunbeam!! Ya dig?!
Anyways, so in the past two weeks I have heard from BB, KG, WP, PN, CJ, and CM. Umm.... weird. You might not think it's weird, but why all of a sudden? I'm sorry but I do not feel like I am in the wrong for being upset about some people's true colors that showed themselves so clearly to me in the days surrounding the fire. I know I sound like a broken record, but that fire was life-changing. I've never felt reality so intensely and had to desperately cling to what little bit of hope is left at the end of the rope. That's when I so badly needed some of these people's friendship, the unconditional love they promised, the loyalty, the support, the encouragement, a kick in the ass, something.  Literally, I HATE being ignored. I'd rather someone cuss me and spit in my face than just blatantly ignore me. But that's what I felt. Ignored; neglected; fooled; upset; doubtful; inconfidant; not groovy. 
Why, if you're going to betray me and the friendship we have, MUST you do it when I lose everything I have? Could you not hold out a couple more weeks...? Could you not just wait until I pitched a stressful hissy-fittin' temper tantrum and used it as an out, or an excuse? Just so I can have some friggin' peace of mind at night...
I replay everything... what exactly did I so so bad to these people, that you was significant enough for them to not want to be friends with me, yet isignificant enough that I can't remember what I did tha. Hmm.. it drives me nuts.
Trust me, I'll be the first to admit that I am VERY AWARE at why I'm 0 for 34903840!!! (who's still even keeping count, are you serious? Surely you've given up by now) I know very well that I'm the most imperfect girlfriend, and that I'm capable of being a craaaazy bitch, but only 3 of those initials up there are ex's and 1 of them is a dear friend & the other 2 no longer have any affect on my life whatsoever, so I'm really talking about those "best buds" that are like distant strangers to me now.
I must not be so down and out, and allow me to interrupt I, and let me be share an out-of-the-blue-positive by saying that my surprise reconnection with moonchildren like TP; and finally getting to hang with girlbuds like Foy & Libby; and making new slash unexpected friends like Fell & Denby, are all examples of life's little giveaways!
Like wildflower, another life giveaway. They just pop up on the side of the road, in the interstate median, and through a crack in the sidewalk and just make things... better! Well, supercool people that make time for me and want to catch-up and whatnot, well, they're my life's Gerber Daisies. They make putting up with the other b.s. worth it.

These other ones, they make me question things, they dig deep at my willingness to forgive. They send a half-hearted text message and it's like I'm sucked into this matrix of self-conflict. They make me question my confidence, my ability to love and be loved, my social being, my friendship qualities, my personality traits, my social acceptance, my self-awareness, everything.
I want to block so many numbers, just so I don't even have to receive them and go through the whole process of the "huh?" "wtf?" "come again?" and whatnots but I don't really know what Verizon would think when I turn in a roster of names and numbers of peole who I don't even want to waste time pressing "Ignore" on. No, I'm being melo-dramatic. But, I do want to know why all of a sudden it all happens at once. Is it trying to show me something? Because I clearly see how apathetic I am about those people/situations/circumstances nowadays. Bigger fish to fry.
But seriously, these bigger fish like school, fire, refugee living, and empty piggy-bank, are getting old... are they almost fried just right yet? Because... seriously... my brain is. 
Hey Anchors From My Past, will you people PLEASE STOP TEXTING ME AND PRETENDING LIKE YOU CARE. You didn't care when I needed you. So I don't care now! Go away... you're cinging my fried brain. And Lord knows everything else in my life was cinged. Oh yeah, did you know that I lost EVERYTHING I freaking own in a fire while you were away?!

I know that we are taught to FORGIVE. But, there's no expiration on forgiveness if it's truthful. I will pray that God give me a forgiving heart to some of these people, but sometimes all that "trespassing" we're supposed to forgive, it hurts and it damn near kills you. But you know what else it does? It makes you so incredibly greatful for the people that DID stick by you. The ones that stuck it out, sucked it up, stayed honest, stayed true, and stayed real. I dig you guys! And I love you with a love that's bigger than the Beatles. 
I just wish my CrackBerry could filter out the fake apologies, the meaningless promises, and empty words that come in to my Inbox. The iPhone doesn't have that app either, I already checked. I guess I'm going to have to grin and bear it and do what I know I need to do....

.....PUT IT IN GODS HANDS!

peaceofmind&lotsoflove

baily

van morrison is my cure-all. therefore, i'm listening to him.

he appreciates that that i'm a brown eyed girl.

he reminds us that mama warned us there'd be days like this.

he just wants to  rock your gypsy soul.

he's what summer nights are all about, dancin' in the moonlight.

and you know what? he makes me realize that i'm only concerned about the people who look at me and think... ain't no sunshine when she's gone.

and most importantly, he makes me realize that these are the days.

how's that for a playlist?

spread the love wednesdays (a new reg)

midweek quote from my 'Daisy' alter-ego

"Hate to mess with your groove, New York, but we're two years ahead of you on the Coast. We already graduated from "what's been goin' on" to "where it's gone."

-Dr. Robert (Across The Universe)

the one about how excited i am to go home

I cannot even begin to tell you how excited I am about this week.
On Thursday, I get to go H O M E !!!!!
On top of that, Chace gets to meet "the Oviedians."
I fly out on Thursday night from Birmingham and arrive in Orlando around 11pm. The reason I'm going home is for my very best friend's wedding weekend. (Think My Best Friend's Wedding with Julia Roberts and Cameron Diaz, except I have no unspoken love for Justin Core. But we're buds, and I'm Julia Roberts). I wish...
Anyway, I arrive sorta late (and hopefully not too fatigued) and then I head to downtown Orlando to meet up with the 'party bus' and a bunch of bachelorette party-goers. I feel so honored that Megan wanted me to be a part of her bachelorette party! I hate that I am missing the lingerie shower part of the party, but as I like to quote, I had to do the best with what God gave me and God doesn't give out too many 'free ticket seats' on Orlando-bound Southwest Airlines flights this time of year. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry in America goes to Disney World during the month of June. I get it, "schools out" but my kids will be skipping school sometime in February or November to go to Orlando to walk around the Disney parks because momma ain't melting just because it's summer vacay. Anyway, I have to deal with being late because of school/flight scheduling. But it's all good... I'll arrive in good spirit and ready to celebrate the last lingering days of Megan's singlehood.
Then she marries my BFF!!! Woo hoo!!! Chace gets in at 6:30pm on Friday from his flight out of Atlanta. I'll already be downtown at a tappas lounge for the rehearsal dinner, so he'll just taxi on over to downtown O-town and meet up with me and my parents and dun! dun! dun! dun!..... "the Oviedians."
Oh but don't worry, he'll be fine. He eats this shit up. And if things go badly, there will be plenty of "Alabamians" there to pinch his cheeks and remind him of how perfectly Southern he is. (Justin is originally from Huntsville.)
I just hope he gets there in time to see my "toast" go down. I've got some skeletons I may pull out of the closet on Justin. JK! For real, just kidding. I hate "that person" at a wedding that just absolutely kills everyone's buzz from the toasts before because they had to put on a circus act and say obnoxious stuff about the bride and groom. Not cool, people.
Well, I'm just so excited I can't even stand it. I told Chace the other night that I am so ready for that moment when I open the front door of my house and the scent of "home" hits me like a freight train. It's the best feeling in the world, and there's only one place you can get it. Home, duh.
I need to start packing... it's right around the corner! I'll get my blog on more later, it's time for class and internship and errands! 

PeaceANDLove

Bjj 

a funny clip for the case of the mondays

So I'm obsessed with the Golden Girls. I think it's one of television's most hilarious shows. I literally could watch it for hours.
I ran across this on a blog I follow, Austin Eavesdropper, of one of my most favorite scenes from one of my most favorite shows.
Most of my friends can atest to this; this clip of Blanche (my fav) is a lot like me after I go blog-crazy, and ESPECIALLY when I have my 'study mode' turned up full blast.
After final exams, one of the two parents I have usually flies up to Birmingham, picks me up in Tuscaloosa, and I sleep the entire way home because I don't sleep a damn wink during finals week. I hope you enjoy the clip... it's rather funny... and definitely rather "Baily like" I must say.

sissy's blog

Hey everyone... my sister started a new blog, so follow her. Right now.. I said so!

Click here to read about her life in Birmingham and all the wonderful blessings that make up her happy life.

Obviously, I have a lot of love and respect for my sister because a lot of my 'creative writing' posts have to do with her. Heck, read my "Why 'The Other Sister'?" page underneath my heading and you will understand the relationship a lot better if you don't already know of it.

She's the rational one, I'm Captain Insane-o. She's The Grand Ole Opry, I'm Woodstock. It's like that.

But we're BFF 4Ever... and we both can probably tell some funny stories about our "misters" and their Sherwin-Williams escapades, and she's already posted something about me helping her dive into the "blog world."

My Sherwin-Williams "mister" thinks it's so funny how I just go into my infamous Blog Zone and don't come up for air for hours.  By the way, Dad has informed me that he feels bad for naming them Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, so he insists on nick-naming Chace, "Sherwin", and Tyler, "Williams." 

My point is, I hope that "Williams" is ready for the world of blogging that "Sherwin" is probably convinced is ADDICTIVE.

When "Sherwin" and I house-sitted last weekend for Ashley and "Williams," we did not have internet for four days. I thought I was going to go crazy without the ability to get my blog on. I definitely was Captain Insane-o then. 

Anyways, browse on over there to "Moonpies and Fireflies" and start reading.. and follow my sissy! 

Much Love and Lots-o-Peace

Baily 

update!

Ok, I'm very aware that I have not done my "Fill In The Blank Thursday" nor my "Wildflower's Weekly Recap" but it is because my last sesh of school just started and I've got one mean game face on.
Seriously.
Want to know a random something? Today in my 'Individal/Family Resource Management and Societal Sexuality' lecture I had to be introduced by my friend who sat next to me.
Her name was Wanda, she had an 11 year-old daughter who is currently on vacation in Florida and she enjoys music in her spare time. She is a 2 year vegetarian and her favorite food is Mexican but now she says it has to be veggie burgers." Guess how she introduced me?
"This is Baily. She's originally from the mountains of North Carolina, she spent the majority of her growing up years in Orlando, Florida. She used to be a runner and enjoys hiking and collecting vinyl records. Oh! And one thing she mentioned that I thought was cool about her is that she is a "blogger". She likes creative writing and uses a blog as her outlet, that's cool huh? Her favorite food is a hot dog! BUT! It has to have slaw and chili on it. She likes music, and as you can see, she has an eclectic style of funky jewelry and bracelets. She's a Early Childhood and Family Studies major and she has one sister but she says she has one brother because she considers her brother-in-law a close family member."
My response, "yes, I totally bought into the whole blogging thing and most days you can expect me to zone in on my "blog world" for a couple of hours at a time."
All we had to say was where our partner was from, what his/her major was, a hobby of theirs, and their favorite food. What Wanda said made me smile. I felt appreciated for my uniqueness.
But old Mr. Stinnet, well he's a white-headed man that wears black medical tennis shoes, he wanted to talk about my vinyl records. He knew about the fire. He wanted to know if I lost any of my vinyl records in the fire. Then I had to name off some of the ones I had. He thought it was particularly cool that my Dad saved the ones from the 1970's and 1980's that I have. His final thought, with his hand on his chin, "Man oh man, I wish I'd a done that. I didn't know vinyl was back on the scene."
Then he jumped up and said Well Baily! The hippies had a lot to do with this sexual revolution in society that we're going to talk about. The counter-culture!!"
Oh, the hippie thing, the vinyl thing, the blog thing, it can get a conversation going anywhere, I swear!!!
It reminds me of one of Janis Joplin's quote, "I may just be the first pin-up hippie girl."
There is a rather random group of people in that lecture, both undergrad and graduate students, from all different majors and definitely all different backgrounds. It makes for lots of interesting discussion.
And 6 pages of notes. 6 PAGES OF NOTES?!?!?! Are you kidding me?!
One of my biggest regrets in college will be that I never was the ghost writer "note-taker" for the local business U-Notes and the student service University Notes. The note-taker takes the notes, gets paid for it, and the notes serve as the aid for students who are registered under the Students with Disabilities Act. In accordance with many of the services geared toward the students with attention-deficit disabilities (just as I am), these students have permission to have notes taken for them, hence the aforementioned career as a ghost writing note-taker. It sounds silly, since I am in fact an incredible note-taker, but also very much hyper and very much deficit in the area of attention! BUT 6 PAGES????
That means there's more to study. In this case, the term 'the more the merrier' makes me want to vomit.
I'll get back on track in the blog world soon! I hope everyone has an amazing weekend.
I think somebody just pulled into my driveway that is about to make my Friday a little bit better when he comes in with either a.)his pearly white grin or b.)something smart-ass and completely funny that knocks me down laughing. It's a win-win, with this guy!

Peace&Love

Baily

oh p.s. my mom and dad sent me a new digi-cam.

you know what the best friggin part is? it does panoramic pics.

you know what that means... my picture taking could get kinda crazy.