Dear Shelby Jennings Boatman,

I don’t know when, if ever, you will actually read this. But I’ve gotten in the habit of writing letters to my friends’ babies and well, you are my friend’s baby.

Like, a really brand spankin’ new baby.

Shelby, I want to tell you something. For the rest of my life, when I think about God answering prayers, I will think about you. I cannot tell you how many nights I sat and cried with your mama, praying that someday, she would have a child. I can’t tell you how many roadblocks tried to keep you from ever being a being. Ask your parents that stuff- it’s a lot of technical medical mumbo-jumbo.

But I can tell you the minute your mom told me you were coming, I knew that God heard us. I knew that you were the one He made, the one He picked for such a time as this, the one that didn’t need to be a day earlier but couldn’t be a day later. I am as sure as the sun rises that your life has purpose. Live like it, Shelby. Live a life with purpose because I knew you before you were you and I am certain the girl I prayed for is a part of God’s story for this world.

Your parents are going to absolutely make you crazy. Your dad is going to take too many pictures and your mama is going to make too many lists and she will teach you be so polite it will make you sick (and well-mannered). And at some point, I know that you will say how glad you are that Ansley and Adam are your parents. Your grandparents are going to want to talk to you on the phone. Do it- they are amazing and you have a lot to be thankful for in your gene pool. Your aunts and uncles are going to buy you lots of stuff. That’ll be awesome.

And me? Well, I’m going to want to bake lots of cookies and laugh at your jokes. I’m probably always going to ask you what book you are reading and expect a real answer. I may hug you too much because I’m trying to squeeze out some of that faith that your parents have sown into your life. I’m also going to cry a lot. Cause, Shelby, that’s how I roll.

Finally, I want to say thanks. Thanks for being such a tangible reminder of God’s faithfulness. Thanks for showing up, just in the nick of time, before hope was ever off our lips. Someday, when you are old enough to need to hear a story, I’ll tell you mine. And right smack in the middle when you start to wonder if I give up hope that God can hear us when we pray, I’ll say, “here’s where it gets good, Shelby. See, here’s where you came along.”

With so much love,

Honorary Aunt Annie

(Aunt in charge of entertainment)

So you know how I feel about professional soccer. I heart it. Mucho.

After an amazing week at Lake Geneva Youth Camp, I rode the train back to Chicago to hang a few days with one of my besties, Betsy. If there is anything I have learned about myself as a speaker, it is this: I’m not good at “re-entry.” I struggle when it is time to return to my real life and for the first 12ish hours, I am so drained of energy that I am a mere shell of an Annie.

So, I figured Betsy should have to put up with that.

She took me to rehab, in the form of a deep dish pizza joint. And while we ate, Betsy said, “would you want to go to a Chicago Fire game tomorrow night?”

My jaw dropped and I said, “you are a great friend and absolutely.”

Because I have never, no not ever, been to a professional soccer game.

Fast forward to Sunday night. 2 dudes from Nashville, also maj soccer fans, just happened to be in town. They happened to have 2 extra tickets and a parking pass. We happened to have a vehicle. We gave them a ride. They gave us tickets. Bada-boom.

[And this is the point when the story takes a [not] surprising “welcome to Annie’s life” turn.]

Betsy and I say thanks for the free tix then part ways from the dudes, planning to meet at the car after the game. And we head to our seats.

And someone is in our seats. And they have tickets, just like ours, for those exact seats.

We get ping-ponged back and forth between a few employees and come to find out that our seats had been sold. TWICE.

The man behind the counter says, “you can’t go to the game, would you like tickets to another?” and I think the you-just-smooshed-my-puppy-with-your-cement-roller look on my face made him slowly slide the tickets back to us. “You’ll have to leave,” he said. BUT HE HANDED US THE TICKETS!

Betsy and I, heads hanging low (we are actresses, of course), turned around and walked back into the game and just stood by the frozen lemonade stand. Because the view was still pretty awesome.

Betsy and I decide not to tell the boys about the little ticket mishap until after the game. Both being Southern gentlemen, they would have immediately given up their seats. We didn’t want them to do that. Their seats were, well, spectacular.

And we were honestly content. I promise. I was just thrilled to be there.

Then, of course, this text message exchange occurs:

Dude: So, how are the seats?

Me: Great! [Not really a lie- they are great seats, we just can't sit in them. I hoped this would be a sufficient answer for him.]

Dude: Send me a pic!

Send him a pic?!? Sheesh. All I’m trying to do here is keep him from getting up. So, I sent a picture. Of Betsy.

That magically nipped the convo in the bud and we were able to watch the game. It was totally awesome. And even though they ended in a tie, and even though I was super-dee-dooper sweaty, I insisted on being photographed at the stadium.

Cause while I may be cool, calm, and collected at the Grammys, I’m a major geeky super fan at a soccer game.

[Also. Please notice Betsy to my left who will not ever turn around for a picture. Dedicated to the game? Nope. Dedicated to not taking pictures after standing outside in the heat for 90 minutes? Bingo.]

It has been a challenging couple of weeks for me. I’ve been busy beyond my capacity to handle with grace. It’s a lot to explain, but it has to do with prepping for Lake Geneva Youth Camp combined with a two co-workers being in Africa and a third co-worker being on maternity leave and the list could just continue.

I think “busy” is one of the enemy’s power plays with me. Get me busy, make me lose focus and feel like a lunatic, and my effectiveness drops by about 45%. It’s a mathematical fact.

So today I head to Wisconsin. I have the pleasure of taking a train from Chicago up to the camp and I can hardly contain my excitement. I heart public transportation. And cooler weather. And somehow I think it is going to feel like when Anne of Green Gables first took the train to Prince Edward Island.

[The life I live in my head is rooted in some deep romanticism, eh?]

[Sarah's fault. The Canada talk and all.]

Anyways, because you are my people and I appreciate your prayers, I’d like to express a few specific things you can pray for me as I’m speaking at this camp.

#1. Pray that God would give me favor with the middle school girls. They can be a tough crowd. Trust me- I’m telling some of my very.best.stories, but I want God’s favor as well.

#2. Pray that God would bring life change in many hearts, including my own.

#3. Pray that the messages I share (all TEN of them) will speak clearly to the girls and make sense. You know, sometimes I don’t make a lot of sense. I overuse the letter Z and things of this nature.

#4. Pray that amidst the ministry, I would feel rested. Today I feel absolutely beyond exhausted and my mind is like a gerbil on an exercise wheel.

#5. Pray for safe travel, health, you know- all the basic jazz.

#6. Pray that this would open up more doors for me to speak to girls about the joy of living for Christ. I love doing this junk but I DO NOT want to be this guy, so pray for the balance of humility and embracing opportunities.

#7. Pray that above all else, WAY above all else, God would be honored and glorified. I’m me because of Him. Anything you like in me is really Him. So, when it is all said and done, I want people, specifically the teen girls, to remember Him.

Camp starts Sunday and concludes next Saturday. And honestly, I’ve been looking forward to this since February.

So I’ll take the train north, to a new world I have never seen, then I guess I’ll wait at the station for my ride to pick me up. Familiar story, if you ask me….

I’m going to let the pictures do the talking. Because truthfully, I can’t talk about my birthday dinner/party without crying. In fact, I didn’t even make it through the creation of this glorified slideshow without boo-hooing.

Because I am overwhelmed. Still. A week later.

Enjoy the gorgie-poo decor… and the delicious food… and the beautiful hearts of the men who served … and the genuine laughter on the faces of a few girls who really love each other.

The song is Home by the most wonderful Dave Barnes. And when this song drifted from the speakers into my ears during the party, I stopped, listened, and teared up. Because these lyrics say it.

Photography by the dearest Skip Hopkins. He not only captured the beauty, he captured the emotion. That’s a gift.

I’ve tried to write thank you notes, but they fail to tell the depths of my appreciation for what my friends did for me. Even as a writer, the English language is failing me. I just know that my heart was massively moved by this night.

I will never be the same.

I had to take my shoes off and run barefoot in the rain to be sure not to miss the train. [Classy.]

I’m surrounded by awesome people.

I still haven’t eaten a Magnolia Bakery cupcake, but that is in my future. Don’t you worry about that.

I’m talking about music on Twitter because that’s the only part of this experience that I’m allowed to share publicly. [Sorry bout it.]

I’m more proud to be here than you can imagine.

Also, I’m sorry I ran barefoot. I know that doesn’t represent me as a Southern lady. But missing the train wasn’t an option. So. It was a calculated risk. Forgive me, Mama.

Amen.

Seriously.

The only way I can think to even attempt to blog this week while I’m in NYC is either in picture or in list.

But listen. Be thou full of patience. Please. Because my number one goal here is to gain buckets full of knowledge and skill. Not to tell you hilarious stories. [Though you know I want to. Come on. You know me.]

[And I owe you a story about SELF DEFENSE CLASS. Yep. I took it. Saturday. Great stories. Great great stories. Don't let me forget... next week.]

By the way, HERE’S A QUICK REMINDER of why I’m in New York.

Yeah. Totally cool. I know. I’m so so so excited. Like WHOA excited.

So on Sunday—-

- I practiced being a lone sojourner on the NYC Subway system (wimpy rider, party of 1.)

- I was stern with a cabbie and he kicked me out (sorta).

- I saw my friend Ernie Halter which was awesome.

- My Clean&Clear Facewash exploded in my suitcase. [C&C, why I oughta.... grrrr....]

- My iPhone battery is not the champ that one would hope. So listening to music on the Subway + checking my email + twitter + facebook + texting + calling my mama = too much for Anita the iPhone to handle. Lesson? Carry my charge cord with me EVERYWHERE.

- I ventured to Times Square SOLO. Cause I’m brave like that, yo.

[This is taken with an app called QuadCam. You want it. Trust me. It's so stinkin' cool.]

I woke up crazy early this morning, already laid out my clothes and had my bag all packed. So pretty much, it’s my first day of marketing school.

Someone should have sent me a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils.

[1 point for New York reference, 1 point for You've Got Mail reference, 1 point for school reference - ZING!]

then it will be a miracle because you know I have THE WORST sense of direction of all time and I have to take a car to a plane to a plane to a taxi to a subway to a train.

I bet that you can guess by the post title where I am today [New York City!].

And why I was so MIA last week [work + tutoring during finals + prepping for NYC!].

No, there is not a parade that I’ve dreamt of attending for 29 years and no, I am not giving that Peruvian restaurant on the Upper West Side another chance to turn me inside out. [See NYC '09 post here.]

I am going to meet with Seth Godin.

Seth Godin is considered America’s greatest marketer. He writes lots of books I find HUGELY helpful in my life and my professional career(s). He has a blog that is great. And he’s smart. Really smart.

And at 4pm EST today, I’ll be sitting in a room with him, discussing all things marketing, probably talking about the Mocha Club, and possibly going over the fact that HEY I KEEP GETTING MARKETING-LIKE JOBS BUT I DON’T KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT MARKETING (but I want to) SO TEACH ME PLEASE.

And by “don’t know everything.” I mean, “I’m a former elementary school teacher who was trained in many-a-thing, none having to do with social media marketing in 2010.”

Seth is hosting a seminar for 11 people in New York mid-May and I am one of the 22 finalists trying to get one of the 11 seats around his desk.

I’m pretty thrilled to just get 1 seat today, but it would be rad for me to have that same seat in a few weeks to learn. learn. learn.

I’m wearing my pink cardigan because pink goes well with my skin tone- pale. I’m bringing my laptop, mainly because it looks important, not because I plan on showing him any of my facebook albums. I’m staying on the same street as Magnolia Bakery and somehow, by the grace of God alone, I will not have a cupcake.

I am going to have a really good time- in the interview, on the train, with my friend Sara Beth, walking down the streets.

And maybe, just maybe, I’ll get to see New York again in a few weeks.

[And. Your prayers would be appreciated. For the travel. For the interview. For the etc. that comes to your mind. Gracias.]

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.