Everybody hurts


When the day is long and the night, the night is yours alone,
When you’re sure you’ve had enough of this life, well hang on
Don’t let yourself go, ’cause everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong. Now it’s time to sing along
When your day is night alone, (hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go, (hold on)
When you think you’ve had too much of this life, well hang on

‘Cause everybody hurts. Take comfort in your friends
Everybody hurts. Don’t throw your hand. Oh, no. Don’t throw your hand
If you feel like you’re alone, no, no, no, you are not alone

If you’re on your own in this life, the days and nights are long,
When you think you’ve had too much of this life to hang on

Well, everybody hurts sometimes,
Everybody cries. And everybody hurts sometimes
And everybody hurts sometimes. So, hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on
Everybody hurts. You are not alone

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
~Matthew 11:28-30

Chicken Soup for the Twitter ho’s soul

image courtesy of photobucket.com

So, I was doing some “research” for Friday’s post about horrible teacher gifts, and the topic of the “Chicken Soup for the Soul” series of books came up. If I had a dollar for every one of those books that were published, I would feel really guilty about charging people a dollar for one of those books! If your so inclined, check out this Wikipedia link, which has an alphabetical listing of all of them. Frightning. In other news, @billycoffey is getting a little uppity with me again.

The best of me (or not) on the twitter this week:

Answer: Tell me what you really think. Question: What’s something you’ll probably never need to say to me?

@MarketerMikeE areyougoingtodothisalldaylong? #oneword (in reply to MarketerMikeE Friend #oneword)

@curtharding I used to tell my old boss, “It’s not so much you blowing your nose that bothers me. It’s when the geese hit the window.”

@MarketerMikeE Stopdoingthat #oneword (in reply to MarketerMikeE Weekend #oneword)

RT @dutchhillgirl @billycoffey I see… But you should know by now that women are always right. 😉 @katdish

@billycoffey You’re welcome. (in reply to billycoffey @dutchhillgirl See what I have to put up with?)

See what I mean? >RT @billycoffey: @katdish Oh shut up!

In case any of you are wondering, when @billycoffey tells me to “shut up”, he actually means, “katdish, you’re right”

@amysorrells How about if I just re-gift you one? (in reply to amysorrells @katdish You couldn’t have picked a more perfect metaphor. Don’t ever buy me one of those things.)

@amysorrells Thanks. Tell me I’m wrong about the Chicken Soup books. You know it’s true.

@Helenatrandom I’m good. Just finished writing my post. Thanks for following the 11th commandment: Thou shalt RT @billycoffey’s posts.

@JCWert That probably should have been a DM, Jason. Snort! (in reply to JCWert @katdish I actually enjoyed Chicken Soup for the NASCAR Fan’s Soul.)

“Chicken Soup for the School Crossing Guard’s Soul”? I rest my case.

The Chicken Soup for the Soul book conversation is leaning towards proving my theory. It is simply a no-brainer gift.

@sarahmsalter No. (in reply to sarahmsalter @katdish @PeterPollock Okay, so would you be surprised to know that I’ve actually read a couple of them?)

@PeterPollock Snort! My thoughts exactly. (in reply to PeterPollock @katdish I’ve seen them on the shelves but I’ve never actually seen on ‘in the wild’. I thought they were just there to decorate the store)

@PeterPollock No, Peter. Actual chicken soup made out of souls….Yes, the books! (in reply to PeterPollock @katdish Does anyone ever buy Chicken Soup for the Soul books?)

Does anyone ever buy Chicken Soup for the Soul books to read? Or are they strictly purchased to give as gifts?

@sarahmsalter Do they teach math in NC? (in reply to sarahmsalter @katdish At the dollar stores here, NOT everything is a dollar.)

#FOTTSP: Bringing quality, in depth information & entertainment since the late 70s presents: Angry Panda http://bit.ly/bJFRqq

Everyone should start their day with a little Ninja Cat: http://youtu.be/fzzjgBAaWZw

@MarketerMikeE Snort! (in reply to MarketerMikeE RT @katdish: @PeterPollock I love your accent! Like buttah! // Yep, and when he puts on the Barry White music, Wow!)

That would be me >RT @PeterPollock: I spoke to a Texan lady today. She didn’t sound as if she should look like boss Hogg at all.

In preparation for the beginning of the school year, I just ordered the first 4 seasons of #Psych from Netflix.

RT @ispeakcanadian: Raspberry vinaigrette, meet my pants. Pants, meet raspberry vinaigrette. So glad you two got so well acquainted so soon

It’s so encouraging to know that I’ve helped so many spam commenters with their college assignments.

@redclaydiaries Psssst! Do NOT say “Ass Clown”. (in reply to redclaydiaries In meeting w/ @charliewetzel, @johncmaxwell & others on publishing & social media. (Waiting till agenda includes me.)

RT @billycoffey Just got off the phone with @AcquireGuy about my second novel, Paper Angels. Awesome guy. We’re both very excited

@billycoffey Yeah. I’m sure you did. (in reply to billycoffey @katdish I meant that in the nicest way possible.)

@billycoffey “You people”? Mmm hmmm….I see how you are. (in reply to billycoffey @katdish Figures. You people don’t do much that’s small and quiet.)

@billycoffey Big and loud. (in reply to billycoffey @katdish @marni71 Morning ladies. How’s life in Texas?)

@billycoffey That pretty much applies to any morning for me. Good morning! (in reply to billycoffey Tuesday mornings are best tackled with coffee and laughter. My experience, anyway.)

Twitter won’t let me RT stuff. It’s making me stabby

@redclaydiaries Nor the facial hair I imagine. (in reply to redclaydiaries @katdish Reminds me of the BeeGees. At 12, I was convinced that they were women. Tho I couldn’t reconcile that with all their lyrics)

@redclaydiaries Oh, be nice! She’s got a lovely voice! (in reply to redclaydiaries Justin Bieber local concert: http://twitpic.com/2d9vrg Good news: his jeans are less shrink-wrapped than usual. Bad: purple shoes.)

@Brian_Russell Keep reaching for the stars, Brian! (in reply to Brian_Russell All my hard work to move everything in my office is working! Network performance up from POOR to MARGINAL!)

How much time do you spend on twitter? Find out here: http://bit.ly/klQ9k (Apparently, I need to get out of my parent’s basement)

RT @BIGE8UP: Discovered I scream the same way whether I’m about 2 B devoured by great white shark or if a piece of seaweed touches my foot.

@Helenatrandom Thanks. I’ll be here all week.

“I asked my mother if I was adopted. She said, Not yet, but we placed an ad.” ~ Dana Snow

RT @marni71 I can hear 3 distinct crickets in my office, but can’t find them. Must. Control. Fist. Of. Death.

@gabbysherri Oh, and good morning.

@gabbysherri Don’t be buying a bunch of crap. (in reply to gabbysherri On my way to the thrift store. Today is 50 cent bargain day! WOOT! WOOT!)

@JCWert That’s because Jesus isn’t a spineless coward.

RT @JCWert Jesus wouldn’t leave anonymous comments attacking other Christians on their blogs. A follower of Christ shouldn’t either.

A Back to School PSA

In case you missed the announcement on Steph at the Red Clay Diaries blog, it’s that time of year again:

Many of us choose to send our little darlings off on the first day of school bearing gifts for their new teachers. It’s simply a small token of our appreciation for helping mold their minds and their futures. Unfortunately, we sometimes get it wrong. I’ve heard of a few gifts that, while I’m sure were given with the best of intentions, somehow missed the mark. As a public service, I would like to share a brief list of some things you might NOT want to give your child’s favorite teacher.

I once asked a teacher friend of mine, “If there was one teacher gift you could go your entire life without ever receiving again, what would it be?” Without missing a beat, her reply was, “Coffee mugs.”

But if you do choose to ignore my advice and buy one anyway, make sure you get one with her name on it so she can’t sell it in a garage sale.

Many kids like to draw pictures for their favorite teachers. Since my daughter has access to a plethora of artist supplies, she’s actually given a few painted canvases to teachers. But a hand drawn portrait is every bit as special because it comes from the heart. However, you may want to look over your child’s shoulder while he creates his masterpiece. Otherwise, you may get a picture of you in a bikini sitting on a counter in a bar like my friend Sherri did. The child was six years old at the time. I can neither confirm nor deny that a few years later, the same child gave his teacher this welcome back to school gift:

(Okay, not really–But seriously, I can’t think of any scenario where this would be an appropriate teacher gift.)

And speaking of  inappropriate, unless you overhear a teacher say, “I love teaching. I love my pet pug. I wish I had a ceramic representation of my two greatest passions”, you should probably leave this lovely item on the store shelf:

Did you have a good summer? Maybe you had a chance to get away to some beachside resort. But please don’t give a gift that reminds your child’s teacher that there are at least nine long months ahead before he or she can get out from under the mound of ungraded papers and enjoy the sunshine again:

(Besides, starfish don’t wear sunglasses or drink Dr Pepper and I oppose this gift based on my anti-crap principles alone.)

Mary Carver (aka @GivingUpOnPerfect) mentioned on twitter yesterday that her mother forced her to give her 4th grade teacher a pair of argyle socks. Years later, she is still mortified. Since I hate socks, I can’t really think of a worse teacher gift than argyle socks. Well, except maybe these:

I could write an entire blog post about the “Chicken Soup for the Soul” book series. Has anyone actually ever purchased one of those books for themselves? Oh, I’m sure there’s a few out there who bought one to see what the big deal was, but come one! Those books are bought almost exclusively as gifts. They are the holiday fruitcakes of the literary world. Please don’t buy this book for your child’s teacher. There are already 27 copies of it in the teacher’s lounge:

I have NO IDEA what this next item is, but unless your child’s teacher’s name is Miss Love and she happens to be a zombie, I would pass on this as well:

And then maybe consider an alternative education plan for your child…

What do I give my kid’s teachers? Gift cards, baby! I hear they like Target.

Okay teachers, your turn. What other bad gifts have I left off the list?

Practice (or mostly wordless Thursday)

Most every week, I spend one evening (either Tuesday or Wednesday) with some of my favorite people.

We call it praise team practice, but it’s so much more than that. We pray, share what’s going on in each other’s livesand we laugh. We laugh a lot.

Hope you don’t mind my mostly wordless post. Back to the regularly scheduled mayhem tomorrow…


image courtesy of photobucket.com

The written word is such a powerful thing. Words build up, encourage, give hope, express love and communicate powerful and life changing messages. They can also be incredibly destructive and hurtful. Whoever said “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me”, was clearly living in denial. Words have the power we choose to give to them.

I’ve said before that for me, honest writing is the best kind. But even honest writing must serve a purpose. I heard this song recently and it really resonated with me. Our words should be about more than just spilling our guts and airing our dirty laundry for the sake of being “transparent” or “real”.

Secrets (by One Republic)
I need another story
Something to get off my chest
My life gets kinda boring
Need something that I can confess
Til’ all my sleeves are stained red
From all the truth that I’ve said
Come by it honestly I swear
Thought you saw wink, no
I’ve been on the brink, so

Tell me what you want to hear
Something that were like those years
Sick of all the insincere
So I’m gonna give all my secrets away
This time, don’t need another perfect line
Don’t care if critics never jump in line
I’m gonna give all my secrets away

My god, amazing how we got this far
It’s like we’re chasing all those stars
Who’s driving shiny big black cars
And everyday I see the news
All the problems that we could solve
And when a situation rises
Just write it into an album
Singing straight, too cold
I don’t really like my flow, no, so

Tell me what you want to hear
Something that were like those years
Sick of all the insincere
So I’m gonna give all my secrets away
This time, don’t need another perfect line
Don’t care if critics never jump in line
I’m gonna give all my secrets away

Oh, got no reason, got not shame
Got no family I can blame
Just don’t let me disappear
I’mma tell you everything

So tell me what you want to hear
Something that were like those years
Sick of all the insincere
So I’m gonna give all my secrets away
This time, don’t need another perfect line
Don’t care if critics never jump in line
I’m gonna give all my secrets away

Our words should serve a greater purpose. There needs to be a point to our stories–even if the point is simply to point out our shared expereinces as a means to feel connected to one another. Otherwise, what’s the use? We might as well shut it down and watch reality television 24-7.

What makes us laugh? (Repost)

The following is a repost, but I really thought it fit the Blog Carnival topic of Laughter well. For more posts on the topic of Laughter, visit Bridget Chumbley’s place, One Word at a Time.

When I go to the local bookstore, I browse for books much like I browse for clothes. I know what I like, but I’m always open to something a little out of my comfort zone. Which is why I made an impulse buy. I bought this book:

I wouldn’t say it’s full of profanity, but it’s got its fair share. But that’s not necessarily a deal breaker when I buy a book. I bought the book because the first reaction to the cover–I laughed. Then I read a few pages and laughed some more. And while I don’t agree with many of Denis Leary’s political and social views, I must admit he presents some pretty good examples of the sense of ridiculous entitlement many Americans indulge in.

But here’s where the book falls short for me–the snark (while sometimes needlessly cruel IMO) is funny at first, but after awhile it just sounds like a really grumpy, angry rant against anyone or anything that happens to piss him off. After awhile, it gets tired. Not funny anymore.

This got me wondering about what makes people laugh and why. After I googled it some in-depth search, I found an interesting article in Psychology Today. In part, it says:

“Over the past few years, laughter researchers have come to realize that the element of surprise was fundamental to most jokes…What Clarke realized was that while most jokes are surprising, the reason they are surprising is because everyone has an inborn pattern recognition system. It is the violation of standard patterns we find funny. And this violation is a universal.”

I suppose this is why, in part, Leary’s book ceased being funny for me. After the first several pages, everything he wrote was fairly predictable.

I think what we laugh at say much about our character.

Most of us have seen America’s Funniest Videos. We laugh when people fall off of bikes or fall down, but most of us would not find it funny without the disclaimer at the beginning of the show that “no one was seriously injured in the making of these videos”. Knowing that folks are okay gives us permission to laugh. (Well, that and the fact they sent the videos in in the first place.)

I hate to write a quasi-serious post about humor, but as someone who loves to laugh and loves to make others laugh, it’s disconcerting to me that so much of what we laugh at these days seems to be at the expense of others–often without their knowledge or permission.

The old adage still holds true: Laugh with them, not at them. If a person can laugh at themselves, they’re giving you permission to join in.

And now I will share a joke:

My mom is one of those really angry moms who gets mad at absolutely everything. Once when I was a little kid, I accidentally knocked a Flintstones glass off the kitchen table. She said, “Well, dammit, we can’t have nice things.” – Paula Poundstone

Okay. Your turn. Tell me a joke. Make me laugh.

Don’t worry — I’m easily amused…

The fear of letting go (by Billy Coffey)

image courtesy of photobucket.com

image courtesy of photobucket.com

The wails were coming from near the concession stand on the other end of the parking lot where I had noticed a church group was selling hot dogs and offering to wash cars. We all turned in the general direction and wondered what had caused the commotion.

None of us saw anything until my son pointed into the sky and said, “Look!”

We did, but there seemed to be nothing but blue sky and sunshine. But then I squinted and saw it. High above us, dancing with a hawk.

A balloon.

My daughter took the opportunity to offer her usual take of part philosophy and part practicality: “You gotta hang on to stuff,” she said. “If you don’t, it’ll just float away.”

Point taken.

My family finished shopping, winding into one store and out another, until we had each crossed our necessities off our respective lists. The end brought us to the concession stand. Hot dogs and a car wash were offered, but only the hot dogs were accepted. “I wash my own cars,” I told the nice lady. She didn’t understand. Guy thing.

“You two want a balloon?” I asked the kids. Which was a stupid question, really. What kid doesn’t want a balloon? I’m thirty-eight years old, and I wanted one.

They inched their way over to the huge tank of helium and gawked at what the church people offered. There were red balloons and blue balloons. White, black, pink, purple, yellow, orange. Big ones and little ones and all sizes between. I assumed they were trying to figure out which color and size to get. I was wrong. They were trying to decide if they really wanted one or not.

They chose not.

“Seriously?” I asked them. “You really don’t want a balloon.”

“No,” my daughter said.

My son’s mouth was full of hot dog, so he just shook his head.

“They have pink,” I said to my daughter, “And blue,” to my son.

No thanks.

“What’s the matter with you two?” I asked.

Their answer came not by their words, but from their looks. Up.

“You won’t lose your balloons,” I said. “We’re getting ready to leave. All you have to do is hang onto them long enough to get to the truck.”

No. From both.

“We have hot dogs,” my son said after he swallowed. “I don’t want to have to hold a balloon and a hot dog. I won’t be able to hold on tight. I’d let one of them go.”

“Me too,” my daughter said.

“I can help. I’ll hold the balloons for you.”

“But what if you let go?”

I told them I wouldn’t, but that didn’t seem to pacify them. They knew from experience that Daddy, while good in most things, sometimes dropped stuff. Normally this would not be a bad thing, since what’s dropped can just be picked up. But as we had all learned from the wailing earlier, balloons don’t fall when they’re dropped.

“So neither of you want a balloon?”


“Because you’re afraid it’ll fly away?”


“You gotta hang onto stuff,” my daughter said again. “If you don’t, it’ll just fly away.”

That was true, I thought, and not just with balloons. Lots of things would fly away if you let go of them. Good things. Things like dreams and friendships and love. You have to hang on to those. Keep your grip on them loose, and they’ll go away and leave you wailing.

But even worse than that is to never take hold of those things in the first place. To let the fear of What If overtake the pleasure of What Could Be.

I knew that from experience. There were plenty times in my life when I never tried because I was afraid I would fail. I didn’t want to see my balloon fly away. I would have rather been safe than hurt.

I knew better now. And I hoped my kids would someday know better, too.

Because the only thing worse than watching your balloon fly away is never having a balloon in the first place.

To read more from Billy Coffey, visit him at his blog What I Learned Today and follow him on twitter at @BillyCoffey

Leading from Weakness

One of my favorite parts of the Echo Media Conference I attended last week was the worship sessions lead by Jon Abel. I wanted to share his story for those of you who have not heard of it. Powerful.

Tweeting from Echo#10 et. al.

image courtesy of ourshirtsdontsuck.com (and they don't)

I didn’t write a twitter post  last Saturday because I spent the weekend camping, after spending the previous three days in Dallas at the Echo Church media conference. This is a highly edited (you’re welcome) list of random tweets, many of which were tweeted from Dallas or possibly between Houston and Dallas. If you’re new here, they are in backwards order, because I’m lazy like that…

The best of me (or not) on the twitter from the last 2 weeks:

Great! Now I’ve got THAT on my conscious!

Just deleted a spam comment that said “I have been kidnapped by the Russian mafia. If U don’t approve this comment they will kill me.”

@muchl8r Thanks, Jake. Your grumpy old manish disposition probably inspires many young folks as well. (in reply to muchl8r @Katdish HAPPY B-DIDDY LADY!!!!! Your immaturity inspires a lot of middle-aged and probably old people ;))

I think I’m officially middle-aged today. Fortunately, my immaturity gives the illusion of youth

I love my dog & cat, but dang. Back off! http://twitpic.com/2bmwfz

@CassandraFrear @SandraHeskaKing @RobinMArnold Snort! Thanks for all the virtual birthday celebration! Holy chicken paraphernalia!

In my intro for today’s guest post, I mention that I hated high school. Now I’m getting friend requests on FB from people I went to HS

“Too bad the person sending it to me did not know 10 people who would admit knowing the Lord. I know 10 people.” (Okay, seriously?)

“If I don’t get this back, I will know you didn’t read it.” ~ massive stupid email. Actually I did read it. It’s just lame

RT @Jasonajefferson: “The cops put me on this son of a bitch”-exactly what I want to hear from the guy who sits next to me on the Greyhound.

“Okay, people. We’re going to need a Speak & Spell and 7 pounds of mashed potatoes.” – Shaun, #psych

@PrairieLady Coward! I grew up driving in Houston. Which means I will tailgate you until you get out of my lane. (in reply to PrairieLady @katdish Wait … I don’t think I’d drive in Houston at all if I were paid! ha!)

@marni71 Tell him I’ll send him 20 bucks if he lets you twitpic him spinning in an oversized dryer (in reply to marni71 @katdish But on a high note, Dane and I have a date night tonight. Granted it’s at the laundromat, but still…)

Holy Human Hamster Balls! http://twitpic.com/2b0yny

The creepiest thing I’ve seen in a long time, & I watched a gator eat a frog yesterday: Trololo on #FOTTSP http://bit.ly/cAS4W2

FINALLY home again, after six days. And now for laundry…

@MarketerMikeE I just give it over to God. Like it says in the bible,”I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden.” OSLT. (in reply to MarketerMikeE @katdish poor thing. Praying for you.)

@HisFireFly Wow! No a/c & only 2 channels? Do you make your own butter, too? Betcha have a heater in the winter, tho.

Not to mention the 3G is spotty at best. Snort!

Really roughing it this weekend. The air conditioned camper we rented only picks up local channels. No cable. http://twitpic.com/2afjkt

@katiemoon You had to add the quotation marks? Great hanging out this week! Thanks. (in reply to katiemoon @katdish so glad we connected this week, kathy! enjoy ‘camping’ : ))

I will be attending Not Losing yourself in social media this morning & sending out constant updates to all my followers

@FakeMediaGuy Oh, I see you now! (in reply to FakeMediaGuy @katdish I’m at Watermark Community Church in Dallas. I’m the guy wearing blue jeans and carrying a smartphone. #echo10)

@FakeMediaGuy Where are you? Who are you? #echo10

Sorry I haven’t been tweeting, but seeing everyone else do it makes me want to not do it. I heart non-conformity. #echo10

@marni71 Youre such a giver (in reply to marni71 @katdish I’ll just drive fast to the church and u can hang ur head out the window. #I’mhereforyou)

Judging by the mighty power of the hotel blow dryer, my hair should be dry in about an hour & 1/2

Let it be known that #echo10 played the double rainbow video, but #FOTTSP played it first @weightwhat

RT @foxnews: Thank you, headline gods: Naked New Mexico hitchhiker burned prosthetic leg with crack pipe http://fxn.ws/atWYmB

They’ve already won the pleasure of my company #echo10

Who’s in the blog breakout session? The first person to find me wins a quarter. Except for @marni71 or @sarahmsalter.#echo10

Rode the elevator w/a guy wearing a fedora, graphic tee and horn rimmed glasses #echo10? #wildguess

BOOM! SHAKA! ~ Shaun #psych

You would think the Muzak version of Hall & Oates’ Private Eyes would be really bad. And you would be correct. #elevatortweet

@weightwhat Wow….that was freaky (in reply to weightwhat @katdish And then you punched him in the neck?)

This just in: My room smells like Ben-Gay. No idea why

@redclaydiaries No, I ever so discreetly punched him in the neck. (in reply to redclaydiaries @katdish …and then you cut him, right?)

@weightwhat @sarahmsalter No, but some guy asked me if my phone was telling jokes. I told him to mind his business.

@weightwhat You know what would be really scary? A Mary Kay Clown Conference.

@marni71 I’m here! Back in the room. I was getting strange looks from people b/c I was laughing at my phone (in reply to marni71 I’m worried about @katdish. She’s undercover and hasn’t tweeted in a bit. I hope she hasn’t crossed over to the dark side.)

@blowingupecho Define rock star pants. And if you wear them, come find me. #echo10

@weightwhat So you’re like some kind of evil middle man? (in reply to weightwhat @katdish No, they just have a way of finding me. I think they’re trying to get to you through me.)

@weightwhat Do you actively seek out clown blogs? (in reply to weightwhat @katdish I found a clown fail blog today and thought of you. Go figure.)

@redclaydiaries None yet. But I’m open to suggestions. (in reply to redclaydiaries @buzzbyannies I do not know. That would be epic. @katdish, what inappropriate question did you ask?)

@marni71 Oh, they don’t scare me. (in reply to marni71 @buzzbyannies I’m worried about @katdish being all Mary Kay-ed up and sitting in a hotel bar alone. Those drinkin Baptists can’t be trusted)

@buzzbyannies It would get very ugly. (in reply to buzzbyannies @redclaydiaries I’d just like to see @Katdish in the middle of a MK conference. #awesome)

In the hotel bar looking for Echo Conference attendees. Working undercover for the SBC. #echo10

@buzzbyannies Oh, I have that crap painted over. (in reply to buzzbyannies @redclaydiaries @Marni71 I never took @Katdish to be someone who gets her pink on.)

@redclaydiaries I’m holding out for a pink Range Rover. (in reply to redclaydiaries @marni71 A pink Cadillac to go with the ghetto nail art? Interesting look… @katdish)

@sarahmsalter Oh I’m harmless. Not really, but still. I won’t cut you. (in reply to sarahmsalter @redclaydiaries Thanks. I’m just a little scared now. 🙂 @katdish)

@sarahmsalter Im good with the hello and goodbye hug. (in reply to sarahmsalter @katdish Yeah, I didn’t figure you for a touchy-feely type. I’ll try to restrain myself.)

@marni71 oh, like you’re the first person to tell me that. (in reply to marni71 @katdish you are in NORTH Dallas it’s trendy and wealthy. How did u end up in a ghetto “massage parlor”? U need to be supervised.)

@CandySteele This nail salon was very strange. Some big sweaty guy came in for a “massage”. Ewh.

RT @marni71: @CandySteele tweetdick. I almost just peed myself.

@buzzbyannies @CandySteele trust me, you can tell. I think there’s an eyelash painted into my big toe

@CandySteele @buzzbyannies Worst pedicure ever. (in reply to CandySteele @katdish Whaaa??? I thought this was a conference, not a beauty contest. First pedis and now Mary Kay?)

@buzzbyannies I’m at the hotel. Marns just texted me. Her and Sarah are looking for a Mary Kay convention

Having a pedi in the darkest nail salon ever watching a Vietnamese soap opera. Good times. http://twitpic.com/29ahhg

Downtown in rush hour traffic. Touché Dallas.

Dallas: I’m 50 miles away. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

@ButterflyBeacon You mean like asking him what’s up w/the platypus? Because that’s where I’m at intellectually (in reply to ButterflyBeacon RT @katdish: I think very random thoughts while driving. // So glad I’m not alone..actually I have interesting conversations with God.)

@buzzbyannies now Annie. You know I would never do that. Snort! (in reply to buzzbyannies @katdish Are you tweeting all this WHILE driving? If so, Texas should issue a travel advisory. Or warning.)

Corsicana…and buh bye.

Impossible for me not to smile when I hear Domino by Van Morrison.

@PensieveRobin I dunno. That cake in the rain song is a tear jerker. (in reply to PensieveRobin @katdish Saddest song evah!)

Confession: ABBA makes me stabby. Sorry @helenatrandom

Whenever I hear the song Cat’s in the Cradle, I feel compelled to make fun of it. Don’t know why

@MarketerMikeE Well duh. (in reply to MarketerMikeE Guess I’m the bigger sinner then.)

@MarketerMikeE I’m on I-45. Perfectly straight line. (in reply to MarketerMikeE RT @katdish: I think very random thoughts while driving.// Me too! I’m driving and thinking about tweeting. Oops. Oh crap.)

Also, there’s no such thing as a fresh bag of Boston baked beans. They’re selling old bags from the late 70’s.

For example, I think The Rolling Stones are the most overrated band in the history of music

I think very random thoughts while driving.

And…back on the road to @echoconference!

I’ll leave this one to the peanut gallery… http://twitpic.com/298jrf

Yeah. It’s a giant beaver. http://twitpic.com/298jdu

Passing thru Madisonville & had to stop here because, well, it’s Buc-ee’s http://twitpic.com/298j28

@Helenatrandom Well that’s a relief. I thought that Hwy patrolman was just being fresh. (in reply to Helenatrandom @katdish Have fun. Be safe. Wear clean undies. I hear if you are in an auto accident, the undies are the first thing they check.)

You can’t always get what you want

Mick Jagger image courtesy of photobucket.com

Yesterday (today, actually since I’m writing this post for tomorrow) was my birthday. I woke up to find three birthday cards from three of the most important people in my life—my husband, my son and my daughter—sitting on the island in the kitchen. They surrounded a box with a gift from my husband. I knew what it was. He had asked what I wanted and I told him. You may think this sounds unimaginative, but he would rather get me something I want than pull his hair out trying to find the perfect gift only to find it wasn’t so perfect after all.

Giant-lipped, overrated rock star Mick Jagger sings, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find you get what you need.”

I’m a firm believer that you can get what you want AND what you need. I also believe what you want is diametrically opposed to what you need at times. But we want what we want, don’t we? So much so that we confuse what we want with what we need.

But let’s assume what we want is not in conflict with what we need. Why is it we don’t get what we want? I think there are several reasons, but probably the biggest reason is this:

We don’t ask.

Instead, we sulk around and expect others to know what we want, then we get angry and resentful because we think people should just know what we want. This is pretty ridiculous if you think about it. The only One who truly knows the desires of our heart is the One who created us.

My challenge for you today is to ask for what you want. But think long and hard before you ask–you just might get it. And sometimes that’s an entirely new can of worms, because very few things in life come without strings attached. If you’re the giver of what is asked, I challenge you to give freely, without strings attached, because a gift isn’t really a gift if its bound up with strings.

A very special thank you to all the wonderful birthday wishes. Y’all made me feel like a rock star, even if I was doing laundry and cleaning the kitchen (like a rockstar).