Monday, April 25, 2011

Doctor Whoooooo.

Yes, folks, if you didn't already know, Saturday night was the season premier. Or, if you're like us, don't have tv, and wait for it to hit iTunes, Sunday was the premier. Either way, it happened. As you may've guessed, I'm a bit of a fan. Okay, a big fan. Okay, I'm kind of obsessed. Lol.
But for right now, I could just about kill the entire crew. From the head writer, to Matt Smith himself, to the smallest errand-runner on the set. Because they killed the Doctor. In the first episode.
It's possible that my dear friend Joy has already said it best, so I just might quote her article on it in it's entirety here.
"No matter how much you know that you know that you KNOW something can't be right or real in Doctor Who, there's always that little seed of fear.

You know the actors have signed contracts for the next three seasons. You KNOW that head writers wouldn't commit career suicide that way. You KNOWKNOWKNOW!!!! that something like that happening doesn't match up with the preview for the season or the interviews that have come out or the pictures that have been leaked from filming.
But that fear will always be there. Because the writers are JUST that crazy. The plot line is absolutely THAT unpredictable. The possibility is ALWAYS there that everything you thought you knew about this show could be turned upside down. So you sit there, and you tell yourself, 'Of course not. Moffat isn't that stupid. He's a later version, killed so that the earlier one can do things right where HE messed up.' You think, 'This isn't for REAL. This is another scare, like the marriage thing. Or the Jenny thing. It's gotta be less than it looks like.'
But you still feel like crying as that timelord body floats out onto a lake in Utah, burning bright in its funeral pyre. A small part of you is just about ready to give up hope on fictional humanity, shrivel up, and die.
D: Swear to me. On something important.
A: fingers and custard.
D: My life in your hands, Amelia Pond.
D: And, Doctor Song, you've got that face again.
R: What face?
D: The one that says 'He's incredibly hot when he's clever.'
R: ...*chuckles* This is my normal face.
D: Yes, it is.
Have I mentioned how much I usually believe Moffat deserves to die for his evil ability to leave off on a cliffhanger?"
So, yeah. Incredibly frustrating. This week, waiting for the next episode, might not be fun, but it's always good to know that another episode is just around the corner.

*takes a deep breath*

Well, thank heavens that's over. Craziest weekend EvEr.
Friday night was the Secret Church simulcast. David Platt, who wrote That Book, Radical, is the pastor of a church in Birmingham, Alabama. And this church puts on this event called Secret Church. Basically, they take about seven hours on a Friday night, have some very simple worship, and study the word. Dive down as deep as they can. It's about learning to identify with our brothers and sisters who live in persecution for their faith, all over the world. And my youth group congregated on our youth pastor's living room floor to watch it via simulcast. Fifty thousand people, all over the world, watching the same thing, learning the same things from God's Word, at the same time. Each Secret Church event focuses on a different area of the persecuted church, and Friday night's was India. Fifty thousand believers, brothers and sisters in Christ, praying the same thing at the same time, that God would move amongst the believers in India. Can you imagine? If the prayers of a righteous man availeth much, how about the prayers of fifty thousand? Incredible.
Of course, seven hours is a long time, and one in the morning is extremely late. Corinne and Isabel fell asleep. Tabby turned into a turtle . . . . not sure about that one. And Stephen? Well, he got that "You are keeping me awake, therefore I hate you." scowl on his face. Lol.
Got home around two Saturday morning, took a bit of a nap, got up, went to church for kid's choir practice.
Came home, cut the grass, did other preparation-ey things. And then it was Sunday morning. Hope your Easter/Resurrection Sunday/whatever you want to call it was blessed. We presented our dance in the 'sunrise' service, to the song Lead Me To The Cross, by the Newsboys. The real Newsboys, not Tait and friends. Anyway. It would've been great if I hadn't Tripped. Yes, folks, went down on my knees, stepped on the hem of my skirt, tripped.
Other than that, it was awesome, the girls did great, etc.
Helped with the kids Easter cantata type thing in the late service. Sat in a corner on the stage during their rendition of I Can Only Imagine, to hand the little soloist her microphone at the right time. Skittered up on stage to stand behind Noah, the little boy in our children's ministry who just so happens to be blind, hold his hands, and lead him through the (crazy fun) motions to Take it All. It was kind of awesome. Noah just has this outlook on life that's . . . refreshing.
Then WAM (worship art's ministry) practice, with the same kids, working with them on their hip-hop piece as a help to Mom. They're coming along so well with that one. It's so cute!!!
Came home, took a shower (dance, kids dance, more kids dance. How many people come home from Sunday-church sweaty?), went to Nikki and Dawn's for the annual Easter egg hunt. This year, all of us from Riley and up hid so that the four littlest cousins could hunt. Then us "big kids" or, "old people," depending on who you ask, had an awesome scavenger hunt, at the end of which lurked some candy and an iTunes gift card. I love growing up. :D
Went to Nana and Papaw's for a visit. Ate leftover ham. Then Riley started really not feeling good (went to the doctor this morning, sinus/ear infection) and we went home.
Watched the PREMIER OF DOCTOR WHO, SEASON SIX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hehehe, but that's a story for another post.
Have a good day!!

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

So I owe y'all an apology. That post yesterday was moopy, whiney, and not a great testimony. I'm not a-gonna take it down, 'cause that would be even lamer, but I am going to apologize for it. My attitude wasn't great, and I'm sorry for that.
I guess it all ties back to the fact that I'm not perfect. Not that I ever claimed to be, but I usually try better than that. God's not finished with me yet. But that's still no excuse for a lack of peace and a bad attitude.
So, forgive me?

Sunday, April 17, 2011

The Stuff

...for all that I'm not a huuuge Francesca Battistelli fan, if you've heard her new song the stuff, you might have an idea of how life is for Ella right now. If you haven't heard it, check it out here. And now, you get it. :D "Might not be what I would choose, but this is the stuff you use."
Okay, so it's not all that bad. But it's . . . something.
So saturday was the church giveaway, which wasn't such a big deal, aside from being at the church at eight in the morning. On a Saturday. An hour before I'd like to be up, at least. But I'm just whining. Then thrift storing for skirts for the Easter dance. Which is on Easter. Which is THIS Sunday. With Mom and Joy. And like, none of the people we were shopping for were able to go shopping with us, so it was all up to us. Which, as irritating as that sounds, was really a good thing, because when we all go shopping together, we fight, throw tantrums, and act like divas. :/
Then came home and planned for the DANCE CAMP. Which, we're actually going. The pastor approved the idea of me and Joy leading it, so we had a sit down and worked out a schedule that didn't require us to clone ourselves. We don't get to eat lunch, but we'll get everything done.
Sunday was church, which was kind of . . . not good. You know how sometimes the vibe is just different? Well, it was one of those days. I thought, between all of us girls, somebody was gonna die. But, I did turn in Compassion money to the lady whose bank account we're using for it, and only had to loan it three dollars of my own money besides my personal contribution to the fund to do it. Then church got out, one of the dance group girl's mom pulled me aside and got on me for not giving her enough information early enough. One of my friends pulled me aside AGAIN to ask me a question that was ABSOLUTELY not a major deal, and between it all, we didn't get the prayer time we really needed.
Sunday night would've been great, except for this one little kid who is driving me nutty. She's two. Terrible, terrible two.
Came home, slept, was woken up at quarter-to-eight by Corinne, texting to ask me if I was coming to Otherband practice today. I wanted to. I asked Mom. She said no, I had to do school, and my priorities were mixed up, because school should come first. We fought, blah, blah, blah.
Couldn't find my STUPID!!! Rosetta Stone headset, so it took me about an hour to get started in French, which I haven't done all year. Corinne called and said that the skirt I bought her makes her look like a "prairie girl." A.) I have no clue what that means. B.) It's just gonna have to be good enough. C.) If anybody else gives me bad new today, I JUST MIGHT SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Friday is a youth event. Which makes the dance girls coming over to tie-dye a shirt to wear in the dance extremely difficult, because the event runs 'til one in the morning. So, if we pull it off, everybody comes back to my house, we get up at an ungodly hour the next morning, tie-dye, skitter to the church for "practice" for the kids Easter program, where everybody's parents will pick them up. Come home, eventually untie and wash tie-dyes, bring them to the SUNRISE service the next morning, give them to their recipients. Who will change into them in the fifteen minutes we'll have to get ready for our dance. Somebody's is bound to not fit, and somebody is bound to hate theirs.
Then go to my cousins after church for the annual Easter Egg Hunt, which got old about six years ago, and is always awkward.
And on top of everything, there's this one stupid idiot. Who keeps popping up in my head, doing stupid things, breaking my concentration, and bringing me down.
Somewhere in all of this, I have to find time to send out MORE support letters for Dallas, hope to dear-merciful-heavens I get donations by the due-date of MAY SECOND, pick songs for dance camp, write a Bible study for dance camp, and try like anything not to kill anybody.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

To Dallas (and Beyond?)

Howdy! Just figured I'd let y'all, my beloved blog followers, know that I've set up another blog, on another account, under a different name, about the missions trip I'm going on. It's mainly for the friends, family, and church family who're gonna wanna keep up with the whole deal. I'm gonna post there about the prep/fundraising process, then post by SMS after I leave.
I'll blog here too, because you guys get a slightly different, slightly less "people who know me and AREN'T Joy" version of the story. I'll be editing myself over there. But anyway. Here goes nothin'.
Be sure and check out To Dallas (and Beyond?)
Have a great day! Catchya later!

Saturday, April 2, 2011


I love it when my state of mind changes ten times before I actually get around to the blog post I plan to write.
This morning, I was playing the whole "Yeah, I'm the big adult person," game; this afternoon I was being the peculiar brand of CrAzY I am when it's just me and my mum. And now tonight? I'm that kind of quiet I only get when I'm reminded of my insufficiencies.
So the tone you get on this post might be a little . . . mixed up. Bear with me.
Spent the night at Nana's (with the sibs . . . and the little cousins) so Mom and Dad could go out-of-town for their anniversary. Not that we couldn't've stayed here at home . . . grandma's . . . whatever. We just decided not to.
Watched the Lion King (yes, again) with my cousins. Hail hadn't seen it yet, and she loved it.
Came home, went to the laundromat with mom 'cause the drain field's still messed up. There was insanity, and feathers. Lots and lots of feathers.
Then "otherband" practice at the church, which we were late for, and went a particular kind of bad that I just don't want to talk about. Period.
So, yeah, crazy day, dizzy day, ready for bed. 'Night, all!