Look at me, remembering two weeks in a row to keep up with Smile, Wednesday.

[Patting myself on the bloggy back.]

That's me.

Sweet Howlet's self portrait

Fake Annie Parsons?

My dad is so cool.

Imogen Heap @ the Ryman

Tardy for the party, Jason.

Welp.

The two teams that I was cheering for in the World Cup got booted this weekend.

First the USA with a disappointing loss to Ghana. Sure, we didn’t deserve to go farther that the Top 16. But it still stings. I’ll be honest with you. And though Ghana is my second favorite African nation, I will have to say they were stinkers in this game. I love the Ghanaian people, but I do not love their soccer team. Fair? I think so.

Then England. Oy vey. Have you seen what the papers in England are saying? Google it. You’ll cringe on behalf of the players. Bless their hearts. Not a pretty reaction from their homeland. But to go out on a 4-1 loss to Germany is probably deserving of a little scolding.

So now I’m left with no team.

I don’t want Germany to win, though they looked piles better than England on Sunday. I could get behind Spain or maybe Portugal. I’m a European at heart, so it is going to be hard for me to love Brazil though I fully understand that they are insanely talented and have yet to even give us their full force.

Also. I have a ganglion cyst on my right wrist and though I don’t know how it is possible, somehow I feel like it must be connected to the amount of soccer I have been watching. Maybe the cheering? The clapping? The fist-pumping? The high fives? I don’t know. I just know it hurts.

Oh the pain. Body and soul.

[What I lack in skill I make up for in drama. Yes?]

[Also. The World Cup ends on July 11 and the amount of games slow down significantly now. So will my World Cup blogging. Forgive me if you hate soccer.]

If you don’t hate soccer:: Who are you cheering for at this point??

If you didn’t see the US game on Wednesday morning, I’m sorry for you. Because good gracious it was a beaut.

Please take a few minutes and watch this AMAZING video from Landon Donovan’s goal scoring moment. [I tried to embed it, but it isn't working. Trust me, I've wasted 45 minutes of my LIFE on this. I'm just going to have to hope you click.]

I mean, if that doesn’t bring a tear to your eye, I don’t know what will. I certainly hope the US team (and Landon Donovan in particular) see this video. What a tribute to their hard work and dedication when, 3.75 out of every 4 years, our country couldn’t care less about them.

And I am TOTALLY going to be that woman in the peach suit, saddled up to the bar at 8am, watching World Cup 2038.

Also, just for kicks, here’s the link to where I was on Wednesday morning-

WKRN.com- “Fans go wild as U.S. defeats Algeria, advances”

And…. here’s the video of our crowd going NUTS when Landon scored. You can’t see me, but if you watch, there is a girl holding a flag at the beginning of the clip- I’m right below her.

At the risk of overdoing it, here’s the link to the video of us LOSING OUR MINDS when Donovan scored.

I have never NEVER had an experience like that. [Sorry, Georgia Bulldogs, but it is true.] And I’ll tell you, that may have been the most fun I have ever had at a sporting event. My adrenaline was pumping for about 5 hours afterwards.

USA plays Ghana tomorrow [I love the Black Stars, so it's almost a divided loyalty. ALMOST.] and I’ll be in Marietta with the family, but we will be watching.

This World Cup has been a pile of fun already and we’re only 2 weeks in (3 more to go). But my dear buddy Wes wrote a great post yesterday about how important it is for our country to embrace soccer. A great read for your Friday.

Here’s what I want to know: where were you when Landon Donovan scored the game winning / group winning / team advancing goal?

I think I want to reinstate Smile, Wednesday. I tend to take so many pics on Anita the iPhone and then they just sit there. I think that is lame. So welcome to the return of Smile, Wednesday.

I miss the Cowarts.

My beautiful alley.

Birthday picnic

Drowned rat in NYC

I have a question here. Isn’t “drowned” the correct past tense of “drown”? I googled it and it seems right, but it feels wrong. Help?

My next read.

Rock is so cool.

My karate kids

Mozzarella is my love language.

My friend Annie introduced me to the Bluebird Cafe in 2008. To this day, it is one of the greatest gifts she has ever given me.

I go as often as possible. If you don’t know about the Bluebird, it is easy to explain. Artists in Nashville play at the venues around town. Songwriters in Nashville play at the Bluebird.

So last week, Laura, Marisa, Brooke and I headed down to hear some amazing songwriters. And, as sick-in-the-brain as this is, I thought, “I totally should blog about these dudes cause I’m not sure I have before.”

[As Keith Urban says, "...cause you're always in my heart, you're always on my mind..."]

All four of these boys are great writers and I think you will LOVE what they do.

Here’s the setup- the songwriters sit in the round and for about 2 hours, they each play songs that they have written.

We got to hear

- Andrew Ripp. His voice is INSANE and he writes beautiful stuff. I love getting to hear him live. You should try to do the same.

Steve Moakler

- Steve Moakler. Steve’s a young guy, but he writes some fierce music. He’s one of those artists that sounds EXACTLY the same live, if not better, than he does on his records. Living in a city full of well produced artists, it is refreshing when people are just.plain.talented.

- Cary Barlowe. I bet you know his music. He’s written some big deal country songs, lots of stuff from Toby Mac. It was one of those surprising times at Bluebird where every time it was his turn, I recognized his music. I was happy. A happy happy girl.

Last but not least is a good friend of mine, Shane Stevens. You may recognize him as “the man who made me gorgie-poo at the Grammys.”

He said my hair was JUST like Sarah Jessica Parker’s hair and on that day, in that moment, he won my allegiance forever.

He’s an amazing songwriter, y’all. And I absolutely loved getting to hear him sing his stuff live.

Shane Stevens

Look at him go. Booyah.

So check these boys out if you are looking for great sounds and words.

Thanks to Music City Unsigned for hosting such a cool night at the Bluebird.

If you ever come to Nashville to visit, make sure you schedule in a trip to the Bluebird. You will not regret it.

I don’t think anyone can predict what they will be like as a parent. You can hope, I guess, or think “this is the kind of parent I want to be.” But I don’t think you can really know.

Until you are one.

And I don’t think my Dad could have ever known that he would be THIS good at being a Dad.

I’m not in the mood to cry, I’ve just got too much to do today. So I’m not going to elaborate and tell you all the remarkable things about my Dad. [Though there are a LOT of things that are awesome about my Dad. Just ask me sometime. I'll tell you until you ask me to shut up.]

Suffice it to say that I consider it one of the privileges of my life to be his daughter.

Happy Father’s Day, Daddy. I love you.

[If you wrote a post about your dad, feel free to link to it in the comments or just take another opportunity to share about your awesome father. Whatever makes you happy. ]

I wanted to warn you in the title, in case you hate soccer, sports, or the World Cup. Cause that’s all we are discussing today.

Because people, I love the World Cup. Back when AnnieBlogs was just a twinkle in my MacBook’s eyes [so pre-November 2006], I used to be an avid soccer player. And soccer watcher. And soccer enthusiast.

I can clearly remember drooling over Alexi Lalas in 1994 in my parents’ basement, where I camped out for the entire month, only coming upstairs to eat or kick my size 5 soccer ball up against the garage.

In 1998, we were in France AND SO WAS THE WORLD CUP. I didn’t get to go to a game, but I was thu-rilled to be there. And, by the way, France won that year. [Bless their hearts, this year is NOT going so well.]

In 2002, I was in college and we would have friends over at ungodly hours in the morning to watch games. Because the World Cup was in Korea.

I remember dumb things.

In 2006, I missed the US vs. Ghana game- it was a series of unfortunate events involving my mother’s tea shop.

And here we are. 2010. And they are playing in South Africa- a country I called home for 2 weeks exactly a year ago. So watching the coverage is sweet to me. I’m in no hurry to go back, but I did love Capetown.

A few things.

For starters, I have a crush on Modern Technology. If you love the World Cup, there is a killer free ESPN iPhone app that you. will. adore.

I also came across this amazing World Cup schedule that is beyond cool. So play on there if you so choose. [The majority of this website is not in English, so forgive me if something is glaringly offense in another language. I plead dumb on this one.]

Let’s talk teams.

Obviously. We have no choice but the cheer for the USA. We live here. We’re patriotic. And we aren’t going to make it far after we make it to the round of 16, so no biggie. Be a huge USA fan until we lose, then pick a better team.

[I'm not a terrorist. I love America. I just call it like it is, people. Watch the replay of USA v. England- they schooled us, even if the score didn't reflect that.]

Most of the teams that were predicted to be awesome are losing because of flukey goals or ending up in a draw because no one can put it in the back of the net. It’s been rather strange to watch, but I’m a defender at heart, so low scoring games are great to me- it means my people are doing their jobs.

I love England. They are my team. The players are strong. The country invented the game. Red and white, baby. I also really like the Netherlands- I think they have a great chance. Germany looks scary. I don’t like them, but I respect them. Brazil could end up good, so could Portugal. I dunno. The first round of games didn’t display a ton of distinct forerunners, but I’m thinking the rest of group play will be pretty telling.

Today I will be watching USA at 9:30, hanging with Emily and Rob Blackledge, eating lunch with some girls, watching England at 1:30, then watching this week’s Bachelorette.

I already know. Casey sings acapella. I can barely contain my excitement.

Who’s your World Cup team this year? Are you watching? Have a favorite player or coach? In case you couldn’t tell, I absolutely love talking soccer, so bring it. [I mean, if you wanna. I'm not the boss of you, so I can't make you do anything.]

Have a great weekend, y’all.

I have long wanted to use this table well. It used to be my grandmother’s. It sat in her bedroom, beside her bed. I’ve had it since she passed away in 1999, but this is the first time I feel like it is being fully appreciated.

And by that, I mean, “many-a-stacks live here.”

I sat at my computer today, trying to finish up an article for Little Black Dress Little Red Wagon Magazine, and I got 100% distracted by the piles on Kath’s table. Then my bloggy brain started turning and I decided to tell you what is on the table. And because I’m a freak of nature, I numbered things on my table. Weird-O, party of 1.

1. Discerning the Voice of God by Priscilla Shirer. Our girls Bible study is just beginning this and I, for one, am thrilled about it.
2. Notes From The Tilt-A-Whirl by ND Wilson. Dave told me to read this book and he has never led me astray literarily, so I trusted him. I bought it first on my Kindle and then loved it so much that I wanted a real shelf copy. It’s awesome.
3. A deck of cards that Drew Worsham left at my house. He’s a magician. I think that’s like leaving your briefcase somewhere, but I don’t know. I just wish the bunnies would stop popping out of the box. [A little magic humor, anyone? Yeah?] I don’t know why the deck is sitting on this table, I guess I just can’t figure out where to keep my magic supplies.
4. A picture of my two best friends from home, Molly and Haley. It’s like an anchor.
5. A serious stack of books that I should be reading but I’m not [currently]. Including things from Mike Bickle, Beth Moore, and Madeleine L’Engle.
6. A copy of my very favorite magazine in the WORLD- Real Simple. I adore it, plain and… well… simple. [ouch- worse than the bunny joke, right?]
7. Would you believe that this is where I keep my most important documents? I know that is ridiculous, but I also know EXACTLY where the important stuff is. So. Someday I’ll get a safe or something, but for now, this spot will do just fine.
8. A notebook full of my letters from Fred- my Compassion kid. Love him to pieces.
9. A cup from Seaside, Florida. Because I eat breakfast here. And drink orange juice, even though it is high in calories because some things, people, are worth the calories.
10. My prayer cards. Remember? I told you about my praying plan here.

So there you go. The things I stare at day after day, yet never clean up. The piles run in the family. It’s my heritage.

Procrastination over. Back to writing.

Happy Thursday!

When I was in New York, I walked. A lot.

And I absolutely slaughtered the battery on my iPhone, whom you know goes by the name Anita. [She's cute. I like her a lot.]

I really enjoyed the soundtrack idea. Like, as I walked, the songs that played felt like my daily soundtrack. [I always wanted my life to be a television show. Sue me.] And because I’m a few shades of crazy, I have weird personal rules about how much music I keep on my phone [not a lot] and a few albums dominated my trip.

Like:

• Ingrid Michaelson- Everybody
• Mat Kearney-  City of Black & White
• Needtobreathe- The Outsiders
• Dave Barnes- What We Want, What We Get
• Ben Rector- Into The Morning

And Ben Rector was on high high rotation.

I remember standing in Grand Central Station on Friday morning. I was sad the NanoMBA was over, scared of what was next, sorry to end my time as a public transportation commuter. People buzzed around me and I just stopped. I wanted to breathe the moment- take a snapshot in my mind. And Ben sang in my ears,

“This isn’t easy.

This isn’t clear.

And you don’t need Jesus til you’re here.“

And I’ve thought about those lines a lot in the last few weeks. As I’ve come back from New York and embarked on some new things at Mocha Club, had some good days and some worst ever days, I’ve worried and I’ve celebrated. It’s been a wonderful and horrible month.

You’re welcome.

I walked around my neighborhood and through Hillsboro Village last week, mainly just to get in touch with Commuter Annie. I like her a lot and I wanted to know that she still lived in me- the girl who walks around, music playing, with purpose but not with worry. She was focused in New York, I feel scattered in Nashville. She was quietly confident in New York, I feel tired in Nashville. She was someone I want to be and I feel like someone I don’t like.

Ben came into my ears and I was grateful for the reminder. For that moment, on the corner of Hillsboro and Fairfax, to remember that moment at Track 36 when it didn’t feel easy or clear.

Because here, in Nashville, it still isn’t easy and it still isn’t clear.

I thought I really needed Jesus there in Grand Central.

But the truth is I need Him more today.

I’m not going to tell you about last week. From start to finish, it was rough. I mean ROUGH.

And like I mentioned yesterday, I was lucky to have my dear friend Marie-Claire come hang for a bit. It was much needed and much enjoyed.

When she left on Sunday, I grabbed my pool bag and made a bee-line for the Green Hills YMCA pool.

[If you aren't from Nashville, this may be a phenomenon to you, as it was to me. But the YMCAs here are awesome and they have outdoor pools and everyone goes to them. It's weird and cool. And super nice to have access to a pool. Because, did I mention?, IT IS HOT.]

And y’all. It is HOT in Nashville right now. So the pool was packed, including many fun friends with whom I was honored to share the water with, though the pool was only about 2 degrees cooler than a nice warm bath.

Emily was there. Laura was there. Allen and Adam joined as well. And after only about 30 minutes in the chairs, we all hopped in the bath pool and circled up and we began to talk.

Now this probably won’t make any sense without further explanation, but I’m gonna try. You cannot possibly know how refreshing and relaxing it was just to bob around in the pool and talk. Worry free. Work free. Drama free.

I loved it.

We talked about relationships, beaches, vacations, and our favorites cities in Europe. Then Adam said, “you know, I think I’m going to live in Europe at some point.”

And I said, “Adam, why don’t we just go ahead and get married and move to Scotland?”

[People. I am less than 30 days from turning 30. I have the right to propose marriage at any appropriate juncture. Do not judge me.]

Adam is cute, funny, sweet, loves God. Really, the only problem is that we aren’t in love and don’t ever plan to be. But then he announces that he wants to live in Europe?!? I can get past the little bump in the road [meaning that we have no romantical feelings at all] if a man tells me he will move me to Europe.

Which, I guess if you want to get “technical,” Adam never offered to move ME to Europe, just himself.

So maybe the proposal was a bit rushed.

Well, no matter. He said no anyways. Something about “it’s not you, it’s me” but we all know that line is as old as the highlands of Scotland.

Thunder rumbled over our heads and the lifeguards [who are easily half my age] insisted we leave the pool AND the pool area completely. Wimps.

So we moved our party to Fido and I sat in my wet swimsuit with a navy blue coverup and ate a berries and cream popsicle.

And I don’t know that my friends know this, but Sunday rescued a part of me.

It was a really great day.

Even if Adam and I aren’t engaged.

Yet.