Christmas Cards

Fact: I love Christmas cards. The truth is that I actually love all types of cards. I love sending them [even though I don't do it nearly as often as I should], and I love receiving them. For years, one of my favorite parts of Christmas has always been picking out Christmas cards and then sending them to all of my favorite people. And then I started this little venture known as graduate school. As a result for the past three years, I have not sent out Christmas cards. Look, I know that I don't really have an excuse because somehow mothers who have small children and jobs and husbands to feed have no problems sending out their Christmas cards in a timely manner. It's just that by the time that end of the semester finally gets here in early December, my brain is kind of spongy and tired. However I am happy to report that next year I will not have the excuse of school standing in my way so I'll be back and better than ever on the Christmas card circuit. Just wait and see.

I'm not here to report on my shortcomings though. There will be plenty of time and bandwidth for that another day. Today I want to talk about how much fun it is to go to the mailbox each afternoon beginning shortly after Thanksgiving because inevitably there will be a Christmas card or two amidst the junk mail and carpet cleaning coupons. I love the pictures. I love the updates. I love them all. To me, it seems that the daily trip to the mailbox is the perfect prelude leading up to Christmas. There's a little bit of anticipation each time you go to the mailbox [the good kind of anticipation...not the kind that comes when you fear the IRS is about to audit you or something].

That's the fun of this season: the anticipation. ...Of the unknown. ...Of what is yet to come. ...Of something good and cheerful and bright on the inside of a beautifully wrapped package. ...Of something that has been picked out especially for us by someone who cares about us. As I was thinking about this whole matter of Christmas cards and Christmas day and the build-up and excitement that starts gradually and only intensifies the closer that we get to the 25th, I couldn't help but think of how Christmas morning is the perfect prelude to what is coming next for those of us who have the joy down in our hearts. This is the time in which we surround ourselves by the ones we love. We want to be close to home. Sure, we don't know what Heaven is going to be like, but we naturally long for it because we know it's our permanent home. It's unknown...it's yet to come...it's good and cheerful and bright...it was created and designed for us by someone who loves us more than we can ever imagine. It's like Christmas. Except it's every morning. And every night. The best part? We won't have to wait a whole 365 days for it to come around again.

Drinking Coffee: A Bittersweet Tale of Conversion.

My daddy was the biggest coffee drinker that I have ever known. As a child I always hated going out to dinner on Friday nights because we would inevitably sit at the restaurant for an eternity while he drank a cup (or two or three...depending upon whether or not we were with friends) of coffee after our meal. And when you're 9 years old and life revolves around things like Full House and The Babysitter's Club books these additional moments spent at a restaurant are sheer agony. In fact I find it surprising that Child Protection Services never stepped in to serve as my advocate. On the rare occasion we dined at a place that daddy wasn't a very big fan of the coffee then we would always drive to another place whether it be Waffle House, Dunkin Donuts, a designated convenient store (not just any one would do)...somewhere so he could get his after-dinner-coffee fix on the go. Obviously I much preferred this plan unless we ate in Roswell and he decided he wanted coffee from a place in Canton. And no, I'm not kidding. Heaven forbid he actually use the coffee maker sitting in the kitchen at home to actually make coffee himself.

Now, mama does not like coffee. Not. One. Little. Bit. She always says "I love the smell, but I just can't get past that bitter taste." So anyone who knew me prior to college knows that if my mama didn't drink coffee, then never would I ever consider drinking the stuff because I took most of my cues from her on what is good or bad or right or wrong. I'm not saying that this is a terribly wrong way for 12 year old to make decisions, but we did differ on matters such as lima beans and black-eyed peas even then. She's a fan of the former, I the latter. Naturally, because of her aversion to java, I didn't try to drink it once I was old enough to do so. [Is there really a minimum drinking age for coffee? I'm not sure, but it just seems a little unnatural for a 7 year old to be drinking it during snack time.] Besides, who needs coffee when there is hot chocolate? No one, as far as I was concerned.

So I spent the majority of my college years scoffing at coffee (except during that "experimental stage" when I tried it on a couple of occasions but I could never get the mixture of creamer and sugar correct and drinking it straight black was just too bitter so I stopped trying) Instead I chose caffeine substitutes like Diet Mountain Dew until that time right before Rush of my senior year when I was literally all jacked up on Mountain Dew and had to cut out caffeine cold turkey. Basically I have been content to spend the cold winter months keeping warm by drinking hot chocolate or caramel apple cider (otherwise known as "Heaven in a paper cup").

Over the years daddy's drinking habit (ha!) subsided a little and he even cut back significantly at one point, but he did always enjoy a good cup of coffee. So imagine the irony when in spring of 2009, this guy enters the picture, and I quickly learn that he is a big fan of after-dinner-coffee. Initially I stuck to my guns and continued to turn my nose up at the idea of coffee. Ok, let's be honest, I politely declined - I was still trying to make a good impression. However, Ryan introduced a new player in the after-dinner-coffee equation: dessert. Um, hello...now you have my attention. He explained that the bitterness of the coffee perfectly compliments the sweetness of the dessert to create a state of euphoria known primarily by those who are big Jerry Garcia fans. Alright, I made up that part about Jerry Garcia just to see if anybody is still paying attention. And let me tell you something...he's right. [And no, I'm not just saying that because I'm trying to make a good impression.] Together, the sweetness of the dessert does absolutely reduce the bitterness of the coffee.

Now I was learning all about and testing the whole "coffee + dessert = awesomeness" theory around the time that daddy got sick and passed away. [Sidenote: Wouldn't it be great if we were allowed maybe one edit to the story of our lives? If we were, then I think that I would choose for daddy and Ryan to enjoy a nice cup of after-dinner-coffee together.] But today I'm not going to dwell on the things that cannot be changed. Instead I am going to focus on the fact that I myself have developed a taste for coffee. In fact, I even drink it on random Wednesday mornings sans dessert because I really enjoy the taste of it. I understand that some will argue that my fondness of it is all because I fell under the spell of a charming blonde with blue eyes. While those blue eyes certainly helped, I'm also always reminded of daddy each time I drink coffee. They are little moments that I have every once in awhile to remember him. Granted, if he were here today to see me drinking coffee, I can only imagine that teasing that would ensue. I'm sure he would also take the opportunity to remind me of how I lived in a town for 10 years that I refused to move to when I was a little girl because it was "too podunk". Relentless teasing. It's what he did. But only because he loved me.

Floods and Droughts

Hello, blogosphere. I'm back. I know it's been quite awhile since my last post so I felt compelled to post something...anything...just in case my 3 readers still stop by every now and again.

I think that the title of this post best sums up many aspects of my life these days...There have been floods and there have been droughts.

For instance, I have been in a bit of a blogging drought. I have been flooded with school work and work work. Up until about a month ago, I was in a spiritual drought. In a sense, I feel like daddy's death took a lot out of me. Sure, I didn't realize it at the time because I was constantly in "go mode" and I busied myself with other things. Since I have a degree in psychology, I know to chalk those behaviors up to my coping mechanisms. But then one night I was home alone (Cash was at mama's house) and it was quiet. And I allowed myself to be still. It should come as no surprise that my eyes were flooded with tears. Those tears were cleansing. Not only was I flooded with tears and emotions, I was flooded with God's grace and love. Sure, I am each and everyday because I am one of his imperfect little kiddos, but an image that comes to mind is the difference in my plants after I water them after about a week without any watering. It's like the life comes back into them. I was reminded yet again that our Heavenly Father is our ultimate sustainer [is that a real word?] and provider along this journey that we are on known as life.

Many of my days have been spent being flooded with fun times and great trips with a fun guy. If you want to see what I've been up to for the past month look here and here. Warning: there is potential that you could be flooded with envy so prepare your heart accordingly before looking.

Floods and droughts are cyclical in our environment. Ok, maybe they aren't really but it sounds good right? We just had a pretty severe flood in Georgia after a couple of summers of drought so I'm going to pretend to be an amateur meteorologist and make this declaration. Floods and droughts are cyclical in our lives, too.

Through them all, my cup runneth over.

He's down with D-Qwon's sweet dance grooves.

I love this kid. I don't know who he is, but I love him. Let's not talk about how appropriate (or inappropriate) some of his "moves" are, but I'm definitely planning to use some of them the next time I hit the dance floor. Specifically the one that Johnny Castle also uses in Dirty Dancing and Jillian used on The Biggest Loser last night.

And now for a fun bonus question: Who is D-Qwon? If you know and are the first one to give me the correct answer in the comments, then I'll send you a flippin' sweet $10 iTunes card. Seriously. [I knew the day would come when I would start bribing people with prizes to leave comments on my blog. I just didn't know it would be today.]

09.09.09

Hello, blogosphere. It's been awhile since I have blogged for the sake of blogging. So in honor of today's date, I'm back and I am sharing 9 things. It's not that I just have 9 things to write about, it's just that if I shared any more or any less, it wouldn't really go with the date and we all know how much I appreciate continuity. Without further ado...

I'm pretty sure that the "Swine Flu Epidemic" is a tactic implemented by the government to stimulate the economy. I came to this conclusion in the airport on Thursday after paying $3.20 for a 1 oz. bottle of hand sanitizer. I'm sure all of those people I observed in the airport coughing and sneezing all over the place (which was the source of inspiration for said purchase) are paid actors.

Speaking of the airport, I opened up my purse this evening in class only to discover that the aforementioned $3.20 bottle of liquid gold managed to pass through airport security along with my liquid concealer outside of the confines of a quart sized plastic bag. Now I no longer feel safe flying the friendly skies because if I managed to unknowingly smuggle liquids through under the radar, then I can't even imagine what the bad guys will do with their travel sized shampoo bottles.

I think that my classes this semester are two thorns in my side. I'm just saying.

I am excited about getting my puppy dog back in a couple of days. I haven't seen him in almost 2 weeks and I miss him tremendously.

Speaking of missing, I have gained a whole new perspective on what it's like to miss people. It's a perspective that I could have gone for oh, pretty much forever without gaining, however as a result I've learned to not take opportunities for granted and if there's something that I need to say or do then I had better do it.

I think that everyone who doubts the existence of God should just get in his or her car and just drive across a part of the United States. Start with California. I'm pretty sure that geographical design is no accident. We won't discuss the accidents in the state brought about by us humans.

Speaking of driving across a part of the United States, I traveled almost 5,000 miles in 6 days...1,300 or so by car. I think that I cannot wait until the next time I get to do that.

In said 6 days, I drank 3 Coke Icee's. Until then, the last time I had a Coke Icee was probably in the mid-90's.

I think that I should be in the bed.

My palate and purse have never been so pampered.

This time last week I was in fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada...And as luck would have it, I'll be back there in less than a week but that's another post for another Saturday night. Until last Friday, I had only seen the famous Vegas sign in passing, but I'm sure glad that Ryan had the idea of stopping for a quick photo op on our way to dinner. You see, we were on our way to one of those fancy all-you-can-eat buffets down on the strip which is why Ryan was suited up and I was wearing a dress that is never allowed to be thrown into a washing machine. Ever. Or else all of the George Jefferson's of the world will have to file for bankruptcy and move on down to the West side.

Now, those of you reading this who know me at all will immediately know that I would not be caught dead going to a buffet dressed in something that has a belt with it. In reality, Ryan had made dinner reservations at the nicest restaurant that I have ever been to. EVER. And no, I'm not using sarcasm or facetiousness here. It was that nice. Let me tell you, that Alex over at Wynn certainly knows how to make a meal. In fact, he's so good that he has his very own restaurant. Admittedly, I was slightly nervous to eat in such a nice restaurant because well, being a Brownie Girl Scout in elementary school and a member of a sorority in college can provide a girl with only so much social know-how. Fortunately, Ryan recommended that I go with the tasting menu which meant that the only thing I had to do was pick out what bread I wanted when the bread boy [that's his official job title I'm sure] came to our table and tell the waiter how I wanted my Wagyu prepared....which apparently I enjoyed the steak tartare so much that I went a little crazy and said medium rare, but the waiter advised me to go with medium. So I went with the expert's advice.

The truth is, I have referenced this meal at least once in conversation every day since last Friday night. But it's absolutely worth referencing so I'm going to continue to do so until I'm at least 75. Let's see, I don't even know where to begin. Maybe the little chair that was beside our table specifically for my purse. I was sold the minute Ryan pointed that out because I know that any place that will treat my purse well will certainly be good to me too.

Now for the food. It was amazing. I tried to narrow it down and just pick out a few favorites but I couldn't. So for you foodies out there, enjoy...

*Heirloom Tomato and Octopus Carpaccio with Parsley Puree, Brioche Croutons and Osetra Caviar Delamotte, Brut, Le Mesnil Sur Oger, Champagne, France MV...[Remind me to tell you three readers a little story one day about how I almost choked on my octopus during this course.]
*Butter Poached Maine Lobster with Sweet Corn Custard, Chanterelle Mushrooms and Coral Butter Tensley, Blanc ,Camp Four Vineyard, Santa Barbara County, California 2006
*Olive Oil Poached Kanpachi with Wax Beans, Roasted Purple Artichokes and Black Olive Oil Henri Boillot, Les Charmes Premier Cru, Meursault, Burgundy, France 2005
*Veal Sweetbread Vol-au-Vent with Red Chard, Sherry Soaked Bing Cherries and Toasted Almonds Louis Jadot, Corton Pougets, Grand Cru, Burgundy, France 2005
*Japanese Wagyu Strip Loin with Black Truffle Pommes Dauphine, Roasted Porcini Mushrooms and Sauce Bordelaise Elderton, Shiraz, Command, Barossa Valley, Australia 2003
*Coconut Tapioca with Tropical Fruit, Toasted Vanilla Custard with Maple Poached Peaches and Crème Fraiche Ice Cream
Klein Constantia, Vin de Constance, Constantia, South Africa 2004

This doesn't even include the bread. My favorite was the buckwheat cherry roll. Nor does it include some little treats that we had in the beginning that were compliments of the chef. I'm telling you all...Alex will treat you right. Nor does it include the little sweet treats that we got at the end of our meal. Nor does it include the cappuccino. And then just when you think there couldn't possibly be anything else, there was. As we were rushing out the door to the show, I was handed a little pack of macaroons for the road. Yum.

Speaking of the show, Ryan got tickets to La Reve which is also at Wynn. Holy cow. It was amazing. I'm pretty confident that I just sat through the entire show wide-eyed with my jaw dropped because that's what happens when country girls are taken into town to see a show. If you ever find yourself in Vegas, I highly recommend that you get yourself to this show especially if you like acrobatics and dancing and music and water. And if you don't like any of those things before the show, I promise you will afterward if you just give it a shot. It was definitely a night out that I will not forget, and I know that I am quite a fortunate [and very appreciative] girl to get to experience such fun. The rest of the weekend was great as well. On Saturday, Ryan made omelets and we made perhaps a slight dent in the ever-growing list of movies that I've never seen but must see by watching Glory, Tropic Thunder, and Miracle...along with a couple of episodes of How I Met Your Mother. Perhaps the common theme that runs straight through this entire blog post is our appreciation and respect that we have for quality entertainment.


Sunday we went to church, had lunch with a family that Ryan knows, went to see The Time Traveler's Wife [insert my two cents here: read the book, rent the movie], had dinner, and then it was time to head to the airport and say goodbye. But who really likes goodbyes, anyway? As luck would have it [or something like that], my plane was broken which meant that my stay was lengthened for a few more hours. No complaints here. And the cherry on top of all of the other cherries on top? Delta dollars for my "trouble".

One Friend. Two Friends. Old Friends. New Friends.

This past weekend, Ryan flew into Atlanta and we headed north to Tennessee. Our destination was Dale Hollow Lake where we spent the weekend camping, practicing proper West Nile prevention measures, getting most of our daily allowance of calories from Patrón and baked goods, and lounging around in the water.

Unfortunately, before Ryan left Vegas his iPhone went a little haywire so we had to rely on GoogleMaps from the computer as our navigational guide. Apparently I indicated that we wanted to take the long, scenic route with multiple yard sales because this is pretty much what we saw for the better part of 133 miles...In case you're upset that you missed this glorious event, no worries: it happens annually so go ahead and mark your calendar for next year or just bookmark this website. Personally the only thing that I can think of that is worse than traveling to multiple yard sales along a curvy mountain road is visiting 5 TJ Maxx and Marshall's stores each on the day after Thanksgiving. Needless to say we did not stop even though Ryan felt that he would certainly find some great treasures for his new home. We finally made it to Byrdstown sometime after the sun went down. Our timing really couldn't have been better though because our camping pals arrived just minutes before we did. Fortunately we did not have to immediately set up camp on Thursday night since we stayed over at the Sportsman's Lodge. And let me tell you, they are quite serious about sports there. In fact, I was introduced to cornhole. Too bad all of those years of pitching as a slow-pitch softball player weren't enough to carry our team through to a victory.

On Friday morning, we were up bright and early to head out to the lake. Holly's parents had a fantastic breakfast waiting for us at the boats because they had the foresight to know that Patrón alone isn't the breakfast of champions. After breakfast, we headed out to get a good spot on the water. Dale Hollow Lake is absolutely beautiful. It's surrounded by all sorts of undisturbed green space. It's quiet. It's clear. And for a girl who has logged most of her lake hours on Lanier or Hartwell, it was a nice change.Needless to say, I was super excited about lounging around in the water on a nice summer day. The fact that I was keeping such good company only added value to the experience.After spending most of Friday morning sitting out on the boat and then cooling off in the water, Ryan and I took the Sea-Doo out after lunch for a ride. And then we got lost. Ok, "lost" is a bit dramatic. I like to think of it as our bearings were a little out of sorts so it was a bit of an adventure. I wasn't really worried because we were obviously safe. There was plenty of gas in the tank. It was broad daylight. Besides, Ryan's in the Army so surely that means he's got some sort of internal GPS that can be activated in a worst case scenario situation, right? Luckily we didn't have to find out the answer to that question!
On Saturday, we left camp pretty early to head back out to the lake. And in case you're wondering, "camp" was not the houseboats in the above picture. I just included this picture to remind myself that there are some people in this world whose "once in awhile weekend home" is a bazillion times nicer than my "everyday home". It gives me incentive to continue making the big bucks by working for the state of Georgia.

Skiing was high on the agenda on Saturday. Here, Ryan celebrates after a successful run...Victory was his! Now I don't really like to brag, but I think that Scott would benefit greatly...if he just observed me for a little while to pick up a few moves.
...I'm just saying. Skiing was the morning activity, so after a strenuous afternoon of floating and sunning and staying well hydrated, we got all prettied up for dinner. [I use the term "prettied up" very loosely here when referring to myself because let me tell you all, I was a vision. This girl can only go for so many days without her hair products!]Cruising to dinner on the pontoon was a whole lot of fun though and we were able to enjoy quite an amazing sunset once we got there.The truth is, the lake was great, the food was great, the drinks were great, camping was great [even though my back still hurts, but we won't discuss the signs of aging that are presenting themselves in my body today]...everything was great. But what made all of those things great was the people. This weekend was the first time I had met any of these folks, besides Ryan of course, yet everyone was so nice and welcoming. It really just adds more evidence to my theory that the Midwest is very much like the South except for the fact that "y'all" isn't used on a regular basis. Or ever. As the lone Georgian, perhaps I'll work on the incorporation of slang into the vocabulary of everyone else next year. Or not.
And in case any of you, my three readers, have chosen to live vicariously through me [and might I recommend that you take up needlepoint for some added excitement to your life if you have] and wish to see more pictures from last weekend's fun, you may do so by clicking here.

Where I'm From

Has anyone out there heard that country song Where I'm From? I heard it one day when I was scanning the stations on my way home from work and at first I wasn't too impressed. Then I heard the chorus and suddenly, I was all nostalgic and started thinking about home.

I love the fact that I grew up in what was once a small little community by the name of Hickory Flat in what was once a rural little county. I remember when the main intersection was a four-way stop with a blinking red light. Seriously, it's true for you "transplants" out there reading this who thought that there was always a Publix shopping center and restaurants that served beer. If we needed groceries or had an insatiable urge for something to eat at a restaurant other than fried chicken and greasy vegetables then it was a 20-25 minute drive. My mom and I went to the same elementary school, and no we weren't students there at the same time. It's not that rural. Not only did we attend the same elementary school, Mr. Browning was the principal when we were both there. It's true, and no she wasn't a teen mother. I loved the afternoons when daddy would pick me up from school and take me by Hickory Flat Store so I could get a fountain drink and an after school snack. I don't know why but for some reason those fountain drinks were the best. I grew up surrounded by aunts, uncles, cousins, and my grandparents. My kindergarten friends were my high school friends. Their families were like an extension of my own family. My "home church" is where I learned that I needed a Savior and it was there that I found him. Throughout my entire childhood I was deemed as the one who would never leave home. I even thought that until my sophomore year of college which I mentioned here briefly a few months ago. Perhaps it's a bit ironic that the one who everyone swore would never leave is probably never going to go back for more than a visit.

Time has certainly changed many things. I think that is only inevitable in this living life thing that we do every single day. A couple of weekends ago whenever I was at home, mom and I were talking about home and kind of what it means to me. I told her again [she's been know to forget things] that I have known since college that I would not end up living in Cherokee County. This doesn't mean I know where I'll finally land, but I do honestly believe that God was preparing my heart for my future when I was still in college. Perhaps He had to start so early because I was such a homebody throughout my entire childhood. Sure, I did stuff with my friends, but I absolutely loved being at home with my family. I was always the little girl who went home from slumber parties in the middle of the night because I missed my mama and daddy. In our conversation, it became evident that one of mama's main concerns was that I didn't plan to come back home because of some sort of negative association that I might have with my childhood or something. Well that certainly couldn't be farther from the truth.

In fact, I love that I had the childhood experiences in the kind of environment that I did because those things have shaped who I am at my core. There is such comfort and a sense of security that comes from be a part of a community. My family certainly benefited from this when daddy died. When I go back to Hickory Flat now, just by appearance it is a much different place than the home I grew up knowing. In a way it makes me a little bit sad, but then I stop in at Bruster's for an ice cream and decide that maybe growth isn't so bad after all. And I'm not referring to the kind of growth that results from too many trips to Bruster's. Besides, it isn't the stores or lack thereof that I think of first when I consider where I'm from. It's the people. It's the experiences. It's the memories.

I'm such a girl.

Alright, I'll admit it...I just watched part of The Bachelorette finale. Each season I roll my eyes at the absolute ridiculousness of it all, but each season I watch the first and last episodes. [Who is the ridiculous one now?] I really could care less about all of the drama that happens in between, and you should all be thankful that I don't watch each episode or else I might feel compelled to blog after each one which would lead me to commit a cardinal sin of blogging: relentless rants with no purpose.

So the show was 2 hours long and I tuned in when there was about 40 minutes left. I didn't know the guys who were left and I'll admit that I was absolutely confused when she was crushing the hopes and dreams of one young Romeo with 35 minutes of show time remaining. Of course she gave him the same schpill that every Bachelor and Bachelorette throughout the course of history has given the first loser [Because like Ricky Bobby says, "if you're not first, you're last."] He's great, he's wonderful, she never imagined that it would turn out this way, but she loves another man. He's heartbroken. Here's my question - Did he honestly think that she was in love with him? Could he not pick up on the fact that maybe she just wasn't that into him? Or was she giving him the "I Love You" vibe right up until the last minute? If so, I believe some people would refer to that as she was having her cake and eating it too. And we all know what gluttony can do to a girl.

So Kitzyn or whatever his name is was off crying in the limo while some other dude appears from nowhere wearing weird shoes and a sloppy looking suit. Is that his style or was he trying to look "harried and frantic" for the camera even though all of us at home know that this show has been perfectly scripted and staged. And if you don't already know that, then I'm sorry to burst your bubble. Please don't ask me about the existence of the tooth fairy unless you really want to know the truth. It's times like these when I wish that maybe I had watched a little more closely throughout the season [or at least followed it online] because I might understand a little better as to why this guy is taking up air time. He confesses his undying love to Jillian. She's emotional. She's confused. She doesn't understand why this is happening when she was prepared to tell another Ken doll that she wanted to spend happily ever after with him. She needs time to think. Here's my question: If she was so certain 3 minutes before when she dropped whats-his-face like a bad habit, then why is she so doubtful now? Does she really love Prince Charming if confusion enters in so easily? Sure I don't know the history between her and weird shoe boy, but seriously. I understand that perhaps I'm the wrong person to be asking this question because I've never been proposed to thrice in one night. After a brief counseling session with Love Doctor Extraordinaire, Chris Harrison, she makes up her mind and sends sloppy suit and shoe boy packing.

And then finally, the moment we've all been waiting for: Ed appears on the scene. For the third time in one night a love struck male professes his undying love for Jillian. Here's my question: Do these guys feel a sense of obligation and pressure to propose to her because she has essentially picked them all along the way? But before Ed goes any further, he's got to know if she loves him back. Good move Ed...way to play it a little cautious because heart breaker Jillian was definitely on a roll and things do happen in threes. Of course she loves him with all of her heart because well, she's obviously out of options for finding a husband since this is her last proposal and it's doubtful that she'll be invited back for a third season of this silly show. So she says that magic word "YES!" and all is right in the world.

Ok, so here's why I'm such a girl...As much as I roll my eyes and scoff at the reality of couples on these shows ever actually making a trip down the aisle together, I still got chills and a little bit teary-eyed and caught up in the happiness of it all. Even if it was scripted happiness and that new Martina McBride song that I like so well was cued at just the right time, I along with the rest of the saps in America had the opportunity to witness happiness and joy in the making. It sure beats watching Larry King Live.

Sunday Morning Workout