Sorry for the delay, bloggites. Moving ruled my life [my friends who helped me move are the bomb and I never use that term unless I am feeling very cheesy and appreciative] and now I’m in the new house. And my bed is caddy-corner. I know. Very lady-like.

Focus. I need to focus.

So I filtered through your questions about the Grammys and picked a handful of my favorites.

From Melissa:

• Were you ever within touching distance of Beyonce? Yes. [Did I reach out and touch her? No.]
• Who did you sit with? Lady Antebellum and Dierks Bentley.
• Were there other not-quite-as-famous people there with celebrities? Yep. I think so. But we all had the Talent sticker, so who knows?

From Jill:

• Was Blake Shelton there with Miranda Lambert? Nope. He had a show somewhere. But let me say again. Miranda is DEAR and you should buy her album.

From Kelly:

• What after parties did you go to? EMI/Capital. And then we were zonked so we went back to the hotel and ordered room service. I had onion soup that was to die for.
• Did you see Reba? Tragically, no. Sigh…..

From Tori:

• Did you see the Jonas Brothers up close? Yep, they were waiting on their cars the same time we were waiting on our cars, so we all talked about music and marriage. [I actually just stood there and listened. Cause I don't have a lot to offer those particular topics.]

From Kimberly:

• Did you get wet when Pink performed? Nope. Too far to the left.
• Which performance did you like most? I really loved them all, truly. Pink for most interesting, Black Eyed Peas for most entertaining, Lady A for best actual performance, Lady Gaga for freaking my freak.

From my dear friend Meredith:

• What was in the goodie bags? Doggie toys, sunglasses, fancy glass things, watches, shoes, leather bags, gift cards, candles [lots of candles], jeans, shirts, and a lot LOT of other stuff. It was like Christmas. I mean, no Christmas I’VE ever known, but Christmas at Paris Hilton’s house.

From Brooke:

I politely declined. Cause hello. Creepy.

[And then I asked her why she threw the Heart of the Ocean overboard in the FIRST place.]

• Did you get to meet and/or touch Carrie Underwood? Nope.
• Did you have any Britney or Justin spottings? Britney was 2 rows in front of us for the first two songs and then she left, never to be seen again. Justin = nope. Whah.

So there you go!  Hope that gives you all the inside scoopage that one could ever want.

One finally funny story. My friend Cassie was standing beside me on the red carpet- she is taller than I and blonde. Ok? So I was going to tap her arm and tell her something.

I saw tall and blonde out of the corner of my eye, so I grabbed her arm and turned my head and said “CASSIE!”, really loudly because that’s how I talk- too loud.

But as I grabbed the arm, that was supposed to be bare because she had on a dress, I grabbed a jacket.

And instead of Cassie standing beside me, I realized that I had just grabbed and yelled in the face of AARON CARTER.

AARON CARTER.

Oops.

You’re welcome.

And for realz. The new GET FIT VIDEO is up. [Which. By the way. I got real frustrated on Sunday and almost quit. Like really. Almost quit. But I didn't. I don't know why, probably because y'all are praying. Keep it up. I'll tell you more later.]

Ok. Let’s do this.

Let’s talk Grammys.

There is no way. Absolutely no way. For me to do justice to the event. I’m not going to go hour by hour telling you all the people we saw and hung out with, the things we ate [though I am talking about that at Annie Gets Fit today] and the places we went.

But I am going to show a few pics and give out a few Gr-Annies of my own. [I will not be giving any of these Gr-Annies to the members of Lady A- they already got a Grammy. So don't think I don't love my people. Cause sheesh. I do.]

Gr-Annie for “being every bit as beautiful in real life as she is on television” = Lea Michele from Glee.

Gr-Annie for “wow the TV really, uh, makes you look great” = Kathy Griffin

Gr-Annie for “celebrity that made me laugh the most from stage” = Jack Black

Gr-Annie for “celebrity that made me laugh the most in person” = Dierks Bentley

Gr-Annie for “I hope we’re friends forever” = Miranda Lambert

Gr-Annie for “coolest person I saw up close” = Elton John

Here are some things that I absolutely loved:

• Breakfast. Every morning, Hill and Lara and I would order room service and they had an awesome egg white wrap- spinach wrap around an egg white, black bean, and grilled chicken mix. Oh. My. Gracious. It was delicious.
• Having a driver. Nothing wrong with not having to worry about getting lost.
• The red carpet. I will not lie. Being there was awesome.
• The live performances. They were amazing.
• Lady Antebellum WINNING A GRAMMY. Y’all. We were out of control. And they so deserved it. They are pretty close to taking over the world. I hope you’re ready to bow to the Lady A.

Here are some pictures:

Here is Lady A being interviewed a few days before the Grammys. This was an interesting experience- radio and television crews were set up all over the room and musicians just were led from one media outlet to another. It was cool.

Duh. I got a talent sticker. You had to have one of these to get into the rehearsals. Don’t worry- I saved them all. Obviously.

This was at rehearsals. I wasn’t supposed to take pictures. I even got yelled at by a security guy. I’m such a rebel when it comes to what I’ll do for my blog readers.

Here is Hillary and I after the first event, MusiCares. I don’t know if you’ve heard of this organization, but it’s awesome. If a musician gets in financial trouble, or needs rehab or medical bill assistance, they can apply to MusiCares for help. I was really impressed. This is where Jack Black was the host and y’all. Every bit as funny in real life. Every bit.

Here is me and Hillary on the red carpet. I’m not really this short- she is in some serious heels and [don't tell my stylist friend Amber] I am in flats. Y’all. I just couldn’t do it again. My dogs were barking a pitiful tune by Sunday. So I broke every style rule and wore flats to the Grammys. Sorry, but I’m not sorry. It was the best decision ever.

Here are Adam and Dave on the red carpet. Adam is a dear friend and he is the video guy for Lady A. So if you’ve ever seen a Webisode Wednesday, those are all Adam’s work. He’s awesome. Dave is also a good friend and he’s in Lady A. [I have no pictures of Charles and his wife Cassie which is a tragedy of epic proportion.]

Also, because I don’t quit being me [i.e- flats], when Hillary said “Wow, your eyeshadow looks awesome,” I said, “Really? Prove it.” So I closed my eye cause, can you blame me, I wanted to see it.

I know. I’m an idiot.

And finally. I have to say. I cannot begin to thank Hillary enough. The idea that she would even invite me. It’s really so so kind. And the rest of the Lady A family. They worked hard to make me feel like I was just one of them. They are all wonderful and I’m about to get all teary and tore up about it. I could not have had more fun and I could not love them any more than I do right now.

Ok. Enough softy business.

Final thing: Do you have any questions? I feel like maybe there is some stuff y’all want to know about the Grammys. I dunno. If there is a burning question, leave it in the comments and I’ll do my best to answer in a post tomorrow.

Get it? Cause I’ll be at the Grammys? Gram-MEs? Oh, and some legitimately famous people will be there too. Obviously.

But just in case you needed a reminder [I bet you didn't because hello I can't quit talking about it], watch the Grammys tonight and let’s keep our fingers crossed that Lady A wins both Grammys that they are up for!

And let’s keep our fingers crossed that I don’t:

1. fall down
2. tear my dress
3. tear someone else’s dress [it could happen. don't put it past me.]
4. trip in the high heels
5. frown on camera [if they don't win]
6. scream like a maniac [if they do win]
7. pass out [wouldn't that be horrible??]

I can’t wait to recap the whole experience for you. But for today, just keep up with me on twitter. Cause when there is a Justin Timberlake sighting, I’m gonna tweet that junk for realz.

I’m being picked up in 3 minutes to go to the airport.

And I’m leaving my computer at home. I just plain ran out of space.

But I managed to fit 8 pairs of shoes for 5 days. So. Deal with that math.

I can’t believe it’s really here.

I’m also currently on the phone with Comcast getting our cable transferred, so you can imagine how productive blogging is going right now.

Ok, now my friend Graham [who we call Grammy, isn't that interesting] is here to pick me up. She went to the Grammys last year with Hillary, so she’s giving me the lowdown. Including how to deal with someone helping you get dressed.

Oh. Sheesh.

Since I don’t have my computer, the best way to keep up with me is via twitter. If there is one thing I love, it’s twitpics. So get ready.

Is going to be a seriously exciting Sunday night.

Cause I’m GOING. TO. THE. GRAMMYS.

Yep. THESE GRAMMYS.

Are. you. dying?!? Cause I. am. dying. [in a good way]

Let me back up and explain.

One of my dearest friends in Nashville in Hillary. Hillary is in a country group called Lady Antebellum. We had a mutual friend in Atlanta, so we met soon after I moved here.

Within a few weeks, Hillary, myself, and 2 other girls (Ansley and Graham) were meeting together weekly and talking about the ugly. You know what I mean- like, “dear girls, I’m gonna tell you all my ugly and you’re gonna pray about it and tell me all your ugly.” We read the Bible and pray and get in each other’s junk. They know the worst of me and still choose me. We’ve had great times and really hard times when we all wanted to quit. But we didn’t. Cause that’s how you love people.

We’re really cute. Anyways.

Hillary called me last week and asked me to be her date to the Grammys. And after I regained consciousness, I accepted.

So that means I fly to LA at the end of the month, get to attend a few different amazing events over the week, then go to the Grammys. With Justin Timberlake. Beyonce. Black Eyed Peas. AND MAYBE REBA.

Lady Antebellum is nominated for 2 Grammys and will be performing.

What does that mean?

That means that when the cameras pan to show you Lady A, I WILL BE THERE.

In a gold dress. It’s gorg. Totes gorg. [That's for the Nash-folks who read this blog. We abbreviate too much.]

Are you freaking out or what? Cause I’ve been freaking out for 2 weeks.

Of course, I immediately called Amber [she's the best stylist in town- and lucky for me, she's also my friend] and said, “WE HAVE A FASHION EMERGENCY CALLED THE GRAMMYS!”

I can’t wait to show y’all the dresses. Plural. [Are you freaking out now?]

So. There’s the big announcement. I just couldn’t wait anymore. I have too many things I want to tell you between now and then. And videos. I will be making videos.

Cause your friend AnnieBlogs is GOING TO THE GRAMMYS.

Good. Gracious.

I just can’t do it.

I recapped in 2007. I recapped in 2008.

But there is just something different about 2009.

I’m not going to say I’ve peaked. [Cause good gracious I hope that it's not all downhill from here.] But without reservation, I will tell you that 2009 so overshot all my expectations, that there really is no way of doing it justice.

These two things are still true: I have no book on a shelf anywhere for you to buy. And I’m still deeply single.

And I tell you those two things to tell you this one thing: I wouldn’t trade my life for anything. Not for a New York Times #1 best seller. Not for the house and the husband and the 2.5 kids.

I want those things. But I want you to know that in my deepest core, down in my “knower,” all I can do is thank God for the good that He so freely gave in 2009. It’s not about what I don’t have, it’s about what I do have.

I saw the world this year- road trip to Waco, Texas, a month in Orange County, California, two weeks in Cape Town, South Africa, a day in London, two weekend trips to Chicago, Macy’s Parade in NYC, girls’ weekend at the beach in Florida, conferences in Mt. Hermon, CA and Charlotte, NC.

I’ve had a gazillion part time jobs and honestly, I have loved them all. Yes, even The Local Taco. It’s been a crazy freelance year. I walked into Anne’s house one day in July to help her paint after having just lost THREE jobs in the 30 minute car ride to her home. We prayed over our Subway sandwiches that God would work it out. And then I watched as He provided.

I’ve been on the roller coaster of this writing career thing. It’s taken me to some amazing highs and some ice-cream-necessary lows. It’s been nothing that I expected, yet nothing I would change. I’m loving writing for (in)courage, SheSeeks, Susie Magazine, and some top secret things I can’t tell you until 2010. But the roller coaster has turned into a slow moving locomotive. And I dig that.

And my friends? My Nash-family? My Marietta family? Don’t even get me started. I’ll be bawling like a baby up in here.

It wasn’t all fun, by any means. I lost my grandmother this year. I crushed on boys that didn’t like me back. I cried tears of frustration and worry and brokenness. I bounced a check. And I sinned. Ugh. That’s for sure.

But it was my 2009. My story.

If I wrote poetry [that I let you see], that would be an appropriate recap for this year. Or a song. Or a painting. Something with creative energy and flow and beauty.

Instead, I direct you to scripture. Because God is a great recapper.

Lamentations 3

Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.

Amen. No matter what 2010 brings, these words remain true. He is loving. He is my great reward. He is enough.

And for that, I am grateful.

What did you love about your 2009?

[Short history: Marisa, Bronwen, and I love the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in NYC and so we decided we wanted to go there. We flew up Tuesday morning, stayed at sweet Jamie's place, then flew home Thursday afternoon. Marisa has already recapped here, if you wanna see her take on the trip.]

We were literally there for 48 hours. So I’m going to recap as such.

TUESDAY

4pm:: Arrive in NYC. Plane to train to W 89th St.

7pm:: Dinner at a delicious Peruvian restaurant in the Upper West Side.

8pm:: “Why does my stomach feel so grumpy?”

9pm:: “Oh well, let’s go to Serendipity anyways.” Insert frozen hot chocolate. Also known as “the last thing I really ate while in New York.”

WEDNESDAY

11:30pm-5:30am:: You don’t want to know. Let’s just say that I didn’t really sleep all that much and it will be a LONG time until I eat beef, much less Peruvian beef.

5:30am-8am:: It only got worse.

8-11am:: Finally able to fall asleep. Dreamed of a life where I could forget the previous eight hours of the violent and lonely hell known as food poisoning.

12pm:: Make the trek alone down to Times Square [which, if you know me, know that the idea of traveling alone is scary because HELLO I HAVE NO SENSE OF DIRECTION] to meet up with Marisa and Bronwen. But I made it, albeit slow as a turtle because my energy? It was zapped. And then we shopped.

3pm:: Broadway, baby. I sang along, and I’m not ashamed of that.

7pm:: Awesome pre-parade moment- seeing the balloons being inflated. Sure, we were the only people (without children) over the age of 20, but who. cares.

THURSDAY

5:30am:: That is a seriously early wake-up call.

6:30am:: Grab a Starbucks then head to our spot at 73rd W and Central Park West.

And then we stood there. Just. Stood. There. As the crowd grew and grew. I mean, seriously. Is that not unreal?!? Not pictured: the vast amount of arguing and shoving that occurred around us. Wowsa.

9:10am:: The parade begins!

And y’all. It was awesome. The bands were great. The balloons were every bit as huge as you would imagine, and the floats were loaded down with famous people that I had never seen before because I just plain don’t watch as much Disney Channel as I used to.

10:35am:: The three hour parade that you watched on TV? Is actually 1.5 hours. And as the sleigh passed, I took the opportunity to yell, “I HAVE ALWAYS LOVED YOU!” which got me some strange stares– but when else will I be in the same place as the real Santa? Who can blame me?

11am-4pm:: Roam around the city, take cool pictures of my feet and Central Park.

4pm:: Head to JFK to fly home!

Would I go see the parade live again? Maybe. It was definitely cool and really worth it. But. You don’t get to see the performances or see the Disney stars de jour lip sync their greatest hit ever.

Will I ever take little children who might need to leave our spot at 8:15am because they have to use the bathroom and oh well, we will never get our spot back? ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Would I ever accept an invitation to be in the parade?

Duh.

I think you know this. But I’ll remind you. I live in Nashville and seeing famous country music stars isn’t totally weird. And I’ll be honest and say that when I pass any famous person at the grocery store or wherever, I’m cool as a cucumber.

Who would I not be cool around because I love her and want to know her? REBA.

And because the following story still breaks my heart a little bit, my friend Emily is going to tell you the story. Emily, take it. [I'm going to shoot some thoughts in here- they'll be in red. Like this.]

__________

Dear AnnieBlogs readers,

I’m going to tell you the story of when Annie and I stood beside Reba and Annie didn’t even know. [That sentence alone still makes me sick.]

Annie, Ashley, Betsy and I went to go see Michael…finally. [The Michael Jackson movie "This Is It" is what she speaks of.] And after 2ish hours of pure genius, we exited the theater and followed Betsy, who had an enviable sized Coke during the movie, to the restroom. [Betsy is a heavy Diet Coke drinker.] Annie, Ashley and I waited outside the restrooms with a handful of other people doing the same. I’m a people watcher, so naturally I stood there and looked around. There were 3 people staring down the 2012 cutout, a boy dressed in too many shades of blue from head to toe, aaand REBA. Just standing there. [Ugh.] I’m not really a huge fan [ridiculous] so I didn’t think anything of it.

I noticed Annie whispering something to Ashley and giving the head nod that usually goes along with telling someone to look a certain way. So I figured for sure she’d seen her, right? Wrong. [This is true- I was pointing out the Ashley that a VERY D-list musician was standing about 10 feet past Reba. You read that right- I was looking PAST Reba to see said D-lister. Sickening.]

After a couple minutes, REBA’s husband walked out of the restroom and they headed to the escalator. Figuring it was an okay time to let REBA fan Annie start re-living the fact that she was standing 3 feet from the woman herself [THREE FEET, y'all], I mentioned that I figured that’s what she had whispered to Ashley. Except that comment was met with a “WHAT?!” [I thought she was joking. Then I panicked.] Annie looked just in time to see REBA & Co. halfway up the escalator. Betsy emerged, found out what she missed, and shamelessly bolted up the escalator to catch a glimpse [which shocked me because Betsy is my biggest Reba-love critic, but her true colors came out right then]. Ashley was close behind. And Annie disclosed that had she known in time, she would’ve been so excited that a “run and tackle” would’ve been appropriate [I think I said "hug"].

And thus ends the night I saved REBA’s life.  You owe me, Ms. McEntire.

Love, Emily

____________

So pretty much, Emily allowed me to stand RIGHT BESIDE REBA and not even say anything.

Trust me, I went through the appropriate phases of grief, and it ended with Emily and I having a very serious conversation about how we [SHE] should do things differently next time.

As in, “Emily. I’m serious. If this EVER happens again, you say something. You say something right away.”

At least I saw her going up the escalator.

And I did scream, “I might have been born just plain white trash, but FANCY WAS MY NAME!!”

Annie Parsons is a super important friend of mine in Nashville.

And this week is super important for her. Here’s a quote from her blog:

I moved to Nashville because I am a songwriter.  But truth be told, at the time that I moved, I could count the number of songs I had actually written on one hand.  More “brooding” than “brilliant,” I was never one of those children who composed music at age 6.  The decision to write was just that: a decision… that I made when I was 23. But here I am – a completed EP in hand.  Words and music by… me.  Songs that, I believe, stand on their own – and brought to life by my dear friend and producer Joshua Stevens.  They’re a small offering, but they’re mine – and I can’t wait for you to hear them.

That’s right, friends. Our own Annie Parsons has an EP out!!

The songs are beautiful. The cover art is BEAUTIFUL. I absolutely love the EP. So you should buy it for that reason. Because it’s great music written by one of our friends.

But more importantly. You should buy it because it’s our turn to step into Annie’s dream. Trust me- I watched this EP get made- from Annie eating at home for months to afford studio time, working a full time job and recording on nights and weekends, she has put her heart and soul and finances into seeing this EP become a reality.

This is what it looks like, y’all. To move to Nashville and make it happen.

Annie did it. And I couldn’t be more proud to call her my friend.

If you’re interested [and I bet you are], Annie is doing a series this week over at her blog, writing about each song on the EP. So pretty much, it’s “Annie Parsons: Behind The Music”- which is just. plain. cool.

For the last several months, we have been taking turns sharing our stories in small group.

Last night was my turn.

How in the world do you tell people a full synopsis of 29 years in less than an hour? And how do you tell people all of it? All the happy? All the sad?

I dunno. But I did it.

Ten of my closest friends heard the nitty-gritty.

The family stuff. The friend stuff. The sin stuff. The hurt stuff. The funny stuff. The weight stuff. The heart stuff. The single stuff. The Jesus stuff. The not-so-Jesus stuff.

All my junk.

I had to lay it out there. Because I knew what was coming next.

Prayer time.

If these ten people are going to group around me, lay hands on my shoulders, and pray their guts out for me, I can’t hide the ugly. To not disclose that which is dirty is to do a disservice to them- they wanted to pray for the things that REALLY matter.

And the things that REALLY matter aren’t REALLY pretty.

It was uncomfortable. It was tearful [shocker]. It was painful.

And it was beautiful.

My people. They love well.

At the end, Betsy, in her gentle way, reminded us all of something pretty important. It’s really not my story. This is God’s story. I’m just in it.

And when I think of it that way, the ugly loses it’s stink a bit. The pain dulls. And everything zooms out into right perspective.

It’s not about me. I mean, it kinda is. It’s my life. But it’s not mainly about me. It’s about Him.

Don’t get me wrong- it is important for people to know “your story”; but in reality, it’s way more important for people to hear your role in His story.

Either way, it’s time to tell the story.

So take time today. Pick up the phone and call someone. Grab coffee with a friend. Send an email. Tell someone the story you are living- who you are, where you’ve been, and where you’re going.

And tell of how Jesus has been the Author and perfecter of your faith (Heb. 12:2).