i'm goin' country ya'll and i'm gonna be big!

I like to sing and I consider myself a decent singer. I mean, I've sung five solos at church so far and no one has thrown tomatoes at me yet or anything, so I guess I'm at least okay at it.

My most favorite genre (other than everything 80's) is Contemporary Christian/Worship (Charlie Hall of Passion, Watermark, Shane and Shane, Selah, Nichole Nordeman, just to name a few). That's what I sing the best. I've been told I actually have an Irish-ish lilt to my voice. Its not your run of the mill pop radio voice and over time I've learned to accept this.

A genre that I haven't dabbled much with is country music. I do have to admit that it is good though. People like Emmylou Harris, Faith Hill, Tim McGraw, and Rascall Flatts have drawn me in to actually listen to a whole country song.

Country music is big in the "city" where we live. Its pretty rural here. People have mullets. People like to go huntn'. Future Farmers of America clubs reign supreme in the local high schools. Yah, pretty rural.

For some reason, going to Wal-Mart makes me think of country music (or at least the trashy side of country).

And....since I like to sing and I go to Wal-Mart almost everyday occasionally , I figured I could put the two together and release my first country album....


Songs of Wal-Mart

1. One Stop Wonder

2. God Bless the Discount Rack
featuring Rascall Flatts

3. Mama's Don't Let Your Babies Go Barefoot at Wal-Mart
featuring Willie Nelson

4. Crickets Chirpin' in the Produce Bin

5. Brandon the Buggy Wrangler

6. Stockin' Shelves and Shinin' Floors (A 3rd Shift Tribute)

7. The Electric Scooter Shuffle

8. Portraits, Prescriptions, and Perms: An Added Bonus

9. Nasty, Nasty Restrooms

10. Welcome to Wal-Mart: Nelda's Greeting

11. Dang, I Forgot Somethin', Gotta Go Back

12. I Got the Buggy with the Wobbly Wheel


Is it a hit or what? The funny thing is that most of these things stem from real-life encounters. And I was totally laughing out loud while typing this post - I'm such a dork.

If any of you know any record producers I could talk to, let me know. I better go ahead and pick out my dress for the CMA's and write my acceptance speech. I am confident ya'll, this is gonna take me to new heights. Move over Taylor Swift, I'm comin' up, you'll be cryin' more teardrops on your guitar cause I took your place as best new artist...BOO YA!

spectacularly unspectacular

Melissa over at Another Day In Paradise tagged me to reveal six unspectacular quirks I possess. Thanks Melissa. I shall now reveal to you (in random order), those six quirks. But first, the rules...boo.

First you post the rules:

1. Link the person who tagged you.

2. Mention the rules on your blog.

3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks you possess.

4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them.

5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged.


Here goes:

1. 85 words

Speed test

Go ahead, take the test...you know you want to.


2. I think "fart" noises are hilarious, but I don't really like the word "fart". I prefer "poot" or "toot" or "stepped on a frog" or "barking spider". Those are really much better than "fart". Its such a harsh word. When I was younger, my cousin Erin and I would plan what came to be known as "The Big Blowout". This would be where, after we had already been tucked in our beds, we would proceed to make all kinds of "barking spider" noises (with our mouths). The sounds emitting from Erin's room would reach such decibels that inevitably my Aunt Sandra would appear and the door, holding back her laughter, to tell us that it really was bedtime.

3. I can't stand to touch loose hair. When I was younger and I would have to clean the bathtub, part of the chore was opening the drain and pulling the hairball out. I can't even think about it without vomiting in my mouth...UGH..

4. I can do various sound effects (carousel, squeaky bike, trumpet, heartbeat, walkie talkie, the infamous sounds of flatulence, etc.). I have been meaning to post a video of my talents and I promise I will get to it. I promise. And I actually think these are pretty spectacular.

5. I bite the skin on the sides of my fingernails. Don't judge. It's no grosser than actually biting nails or nosepicking. I used to bite my fingernails, but now I take pride in my strong, white nails. Biting the skin is really a nervous habit. I need to quit, but then I might have to take up smoking and I don't want to do that.

6. I am a perfectionist about my handwriting. In school, if I was dissatisfied with my writing, I would toss the paper and start all over. I have also been known to do this with simple grocery lists. Its not so bad now, seeing as how I don't have the time to write things until they're perfect. I also ONLY write in print. My signature is the only thing I write in cursive. Why? Because my 6 year old niece could write better in cursive, that's why. These days, I prefer to type and really don't have to write all that much. So, being able to type 85 words per minute does come in handy.

Okay, so here's the point in the post where I'm supposed to tag 6 others. Um yeah, not so much. That's the only rule I don't like. If you want to do this on your blog, then tag, you're it. If you don't, then I just hope you enjoyed reading my six unspectacular quirks.

losing my head

I was so excited to show you my beautiful new "comment junkie" tee, I lost my head. I still haven't found it. Maybe I should look between the couch cushions. Its amazing what you can find down there.



Actually the first thing I thought of when I saw this picture was that I would be a perfect candidate for this...

I think we're long-lost sisters.

eatin' good in the neighborhood

We were on the edge of our seats. Michael Phelps was poised to win his 8th gold medal. It was the men's 4x100 relay and the final swimming event for America's Golden Boy. Aaron Piersol (backstroke), Brendan Hansen (breast stroke), Michael Phelps (butterfly), and Jason Lezak (freestyle) were America's best chances for the gold medal. The backstroke was first. The swimmers took their mark and then they were off. Piersol was neck and neck with the Australian swimmer. I didn't breathe. The USA was going strong and trying to hold off their biggest threat, the swimmers from down under. Hansen did his laps and then it was Phelp's turn. He did what he does best - swam his little speedo-ed heart out. All he could do was watch as Jason Lezak dove into the pool to complete his anchor leg of the relay. Lezak swam with lightning speed and barely edged out the Australian swimmer to take the gold medal for the US team. Phelps was beyond excited as I imagine I might be if I happened to win 8 medals in one Olympic games event.

Mr. Baseball and I were so proud of our boy. I cheered and we watched eagerly awaiting the dramatic gold medal crowning of the four best swimmers in the country.

Just before they were presented the gold medals, the "Official Olympic People" acknowledged Michael Phelps for winning his 8 great golds. They also handed him what looked like the case diplomas come in, but clearly this was no diploma. There was silence as Mr. Baseball and I waited to see what it was.

All of a sudden the silence was broken.

In his great, perfectly timed one-liner fashion, Mr. Baseball said (in a robotic voice)...

"Its a gift certificate to Applebee's!".

And there you have it folks. I'm sure that as soon as his little tuckuss lands in America, Phelps will take his gift certificate and head of over to Applebee's for some good eats.

Never mind those million dollar endorsement deals, its all about some grub - and all courtesy of those fine folks over at the IOC (International Olympic Committee).

vacation - sun and sand

On Tuesday morning, we ventured to the beach for some sun and sand. This was the redhead's first time at the ocean and no sooner had I put him down on the sand and placed our bag in the "perfect spot", and off he went (regular diaper still on).

The redhead sat himself down as the waves rolled in over him. He tried to lay on his tummy, but got pounded in the face several times by rogue waves moving toward shore.

C-man fared much better on his tummy however - he is 12 and a good swimmer. His mom said that he was probably scaring people floating on his stomach like that, but C-man was unphased. Say no to crack C-man.

Once the redhead acclimated himself to the water, he noticed the sand. The redhead was a smidge apprehensive about the whole sand thing. Um you're at the beach...its all sand.

Tinker Bell is a beach girl. She's all about some water. Here she is with the redhead and Mr. Baseball making sand piles castles.

The redhead noticed a kite or "tie" flying overhead and ran along the shore trying to catch it. He would sign please as if to ask us to get it down for him. Precious. We happened upon the woman actually flying the kite and she was kind enough to let the redhead "help" her fly it.

The redhead's first beach trip was successful, if we don't count the temper tantrum he threw for not being able to play with another little boy's truck, and the fact that he cried about it all the way home. I will give him the benefit of the doubt though, he was starving and extremely tired. We'll definitely have to go back - with food and drink.

vacation - bottles, "bows", boards, and bubbles

On Friday, August 8th, Mr. Baseball's vacation officially began. Instead of sitting on our butts at home, we made another road trip to the NC coast to visit Mr. Baseball's family. His mother, sister, and her family all live near the beach, and his dad and a friend were driving up from Florida to see the grandkids (the redhead, C-man (12), and Tinker Bell (6)). It was to be a fun-filled trip with lots to see, do and eat. I'm still full from all the food we ate. Ugh.

On Saturday, we took a trip to Airlie Gardens with "Mimi" (Mr. Baseball's mom), Princess Buttercup (Mr. Baseball's sister), C-man, and Tinker Bell. It was hot as MESS, so we didn't stay that long, but we did see some really cool bottle art and mosaics while we were there.

After sweating it out at the Garden, we dropped the redhead off at Mimi's for lunch and a nap and headed out to lunch with Mr. Baseball's dad and Princess Buttercup's family.

The afternoon brought with it some showers along with this beautiful sight...

I love rainbows. I've never seen more rainbows in succession than I did while I was in Ireland. This rainbow was really bright and we actually saw another faint rainbow above this one, but it didn't photograph at all.

On Sunday afternoon following the redhead's respite, we took him swimming in the pool at the hotel where Mr. Baseball's dad was staying. Let me just say, this kid has no fear, hence the flotation device attached to his body. He LOVED the pool. He went underwater, played with toys, and even rode on a boogie board.

He also liked to run around the pool, much to our chagrin and slipped in a puddle of water, falling on his elbows and bonking his head on the pool deck. He wasn't hurt thankfully, just had the wind knocked out of him. Maybe he'll listen next time when we say "Stop Running!".

Redhead also contracted a condition common to individuals spending excessive amounts of time in the water - its called "PRUNITIS".

On Monday morning we all went to Cracker Barrel to bid farewell to Mr. Baseball's dad and his friend Bebe. Breakfast at the CB is always yummy and enjoyable, that is, until a whiny toddler is thrown in the mix. However, said whiny toddler can and always will be soothed by toys with wheels. Thank you Cracker Barrel for having a store attached to your restaurant, and for having cars in that store attached to your restaurant. Amen.



In the afternoon, Mimi busted out the bubble blowing machine and entertained the redhead for a few minutes. Here she is in her gold-medal winning performance. Just look at that technique. Only a tenth of a point will be deducted for not pointing her toes. (I'm sorry, I'm sitting here listening to Olympic commentary and just had to throw that one in.)



Chateau Mimi - a quaint haven of respite for weary travelers




...coming tommorow - the sandy side of vacation...

noonzie madness

Many of you have probably seen comments from one "Mrs. Noonzie" on my blog. Many of you have probably clicked on her name thinking, "Gee, how creative and funny, I'd like to read her blog." Many of you have probably been disappointed to see that the author of such funny comments does indeed NOT have a blog. For shame. I am still working on this travesty.

I will however, pacify you with this picture, identifying that at least she does exist. There is, in fact, a whole Noonzie family. Here they are...

Ain't they cute?

Mrs. Noonzie is the friend I've known the longest. We go way back - well, at least to 1993 when we were sophomores in high school and part of the Eco-Family (only the funniest thing to ever hit Providence High School - that's another post though). My visit to Charlotte put me close enough to Noonzie to make a day trip of it. She had never met the redhead, and I had never met her wee-est one either.

We hung around her house for a bit, watched the kids play, ate a little grub, put the boys down for naps, went to Starbucks for frappucinos, and took the kids to Barnes and Noble to play with the train table and such while we talked. Our plan was foolproof, but it seemed the kids had other agendas.

As soon as we arrived at the train table and settled into our chairs, wee lil' Noonzie filled his diaper with the stinky to beat all stinkies. The redhead, who normally would have to be pried away from the train table, was more content to roam, train in hand, around the children's section. Lil' miss Noonzie was good though, she tried to pacify the boys with sweet little stuffed animals. It didn't work, but she gets an A for effort.

We stayed at B & N for a while, then headed home for Mrs. Noonzie to whip up some dinner and teach the redhead a new saying..."ta-da!" We got a good laugh listening to him yell "ta-da!" with much enthusiasm and a mouthful of yogurt.

After dinner, it was time to say goodbye, but not before pictures on her porch swing.

Mrs. Noonzie, thanks for the great visit!

tales from the queen city

On Monday, August 4th, the redhead and I ventured to Charlotte to visit with my parents for a few days. This trip had been in the works for while and Nan was going to be in Charlotte with her two boys while they attended music and arts camp for the week. We decided to take advantage of some free babysitting (courtesy of the grandparents) and do what we do best when there are no kids around.

Yes, we are at Starbucks, and yes, we stayed here as long as possible while savoring frappucinos. And while we were taking this picture, I realized that this is the same shirt that I am wearing in like all of the pictures of me on this blog. Yes, I do own other shirts people and no, I do not plan it this way, throw me a frickin' bone.


Here is one of the grandparents I was talking about. This is my dad, otherwise known as "Papa". The redhead ADORES his Papa and is still talking about Papa and his "bee tru" (big truck).

On Tuesday morning/afternoon (Aug. 5), Nan and I went to visit a friend from college who just had a baby boy in July. Susan really had to twist our arms to get us to come visit her and baby J. It was a stretch, but Nan and I sacrificed of ourselves and went to see her. (I'm totally being sarcastic in case you didn't catch on) Here's the little guy.


Beautiful, isn't he?


Here I am cuddling with the little burrito. He was such a good baby and slept much of the time we were there. Precious! And don't I look good holding a baby. Mr. Baseball, if you're reading this, can we have another one soon...please?

Here's the new mom with her precious son.
She looks great and she says that she's getting to sleep in about 4-5 hour stretches at night. I know, sickening isn't it?

Stay tuned for more installments of the most exotic vacation in the history of the world!

home again, home again, doodly squat

Oh the fun we had on our vacation! I'll have to regale you with stories and pictures tomorrow as I'm tired and I've got some suitcases to unpack. However, I will share these two pictures with you.

Here we are in the car sitting in traffic on I-40. How long had we been on the road you ask? FIVE MINUTES!!!! Thankfully it only lasted 20 minutes. The cause of this slow-moving traffic? Onlooker delay. I'm not even going to get started on that right now.




Four hours (we had to stop to eat and stretch our legs) and three full bellies later, we arrived here...

There's no place like home.

my plea to you to help me come up with something else to post about

So, I mentioned that I was going to take a posting Pa-oo-say (pause - in "French") in the last post, but here I am again. I snagged a few minutes to relieve some of my anxiety about going home (on Wed.) and returning to the blogging world. I just have to tell you I'm a little stressed out about going home. Sure, I'll have some cute pictures and a couple of stories to share with you, but we haven't been anywhere exotic like Turks and Caicos or Fiji or anything like that. We've more or less just been visiting family, which is AWESOME, but not exotic.

As we've been away for a bit, I've been pondering over what to post next, and I've come up with....NOTHING. I am void of any useful material. Completely void. This is what has gotten me stressed out. I expected my vacation to produce some wonderful blog fodder, but instead, I feel more empty than ever. I realize that there is an ebb and flow to posting, but I'm really ebbing right now.

With that said, I would appreciate any ideas or suggestions that you all have about what I could maybe write about over the next few posts (after I tell you about the exotic vacation of course). Or perhaps you have more questions for me - I really enjoyed the last Q & A.

I appreciate you still wanting to read after my August posts have proved themselves completely LAME thus far. I'm hoping its only a phase and that "this too shall pass".

a bloggy pa-oo-say

Hello all! I just wanted to say (before you think I vanished off the face of the earth), that we are galavanting hither and yon this week, hence the blogging hiatus. However, I prefer to use the French word for "stop" - Pause (pronounced pa-oo-say) in reference to the break between posts. Do not fret my friends, I will return in the grandest of fashions with pictures of all the excitement we have encountered on our journeys.

Let me just add...thank God for vehicular toddler crack in the form of Baby Einstein DVD's on a portable DVD player. Thank you Jesus, Hallelujah!

happy birthday nan...a day late;'

Nan, I just want to say that I DID remember your birthday yesterday. And every time I remembered, did I pick up the phone to call you? No. No, I didn't. I am a tool.

My friends, yesterday was Nan's birthday. She was going to do something fun for herself, but I'll let her tell you about it. Anyway, I just want to tell you how awesome my friend Nan is.

Nan and I go way back, but not quite as far as my other friend Mrs. Noonzie, who you'll meet soon. Nan and I went to college together. Here's a few pics to prove it in case you don't believe me.

1995 - look how young we look!

1996

1997 - Nan restrings a guitar for the first time. Her Manly Man can play very well, but Nan doesn't play. This is false advertising.

August 5, 2008 (three days ago). Look where we are. Mmm Hmmm. I asked them if they sold frappucinos intraveinously, but unfortunately they don't. Darn. I had to get my fix before I left Charlotte.

Anyway, this post is about Nan, not me.

Now its time for a birthday acrostic: NAN IS MY FRIEND


N - Nan is nice.

A - always caring and concerned for others.

N - not afraid to be real and vulnerable


I - intelligent (she taught chemistry ya'll)

S - silly


M - marvelous mother to her two little guys

Y - youthful and beautiful


F - fun to be with and follower of Christ

R - radiant

I - interesting to talk to

E - exhuberant

N - nifty thrifty ideas for home decor or organization

D - dares to do what is best for her family no matter the cost


Nan has always been there when I needed her. I can count on her advice and the fact that she'll tell the truth even when I might not want to hear it. She loves her family fiercely and is such a wonderful mother to the boys. Where do you think I got a lot of reassurance and ideas on parenting from? Nan loves the Lord and allows Him to lead her life. She is a wonderful friend and someone that I treasure very much. Hope you had a happy birthday Nane! I love you girl!

hey...keep your eyes on the road!

Lately, I've been doing a lot of driving. Monday, the redhead and I drove to Charlotte (approx. 90 minute drive) to visit my parents. Tuesday, Nan and I drove to see a friend and her new baby (30 minutes one-way), and Wednesday, the redhead and I drove to SC to visit Mrs. Noonzie (my best friend from high school) and her two little chitlins (more on that later). That was at least 90 minutes each way.

Like I said, a lot of driving.

I have been a licensed drive for 15 years now. Fifteen. That's a lot of years. A lot of close calls. A lot of sitting in traffic. A lot of accelerating and braking. A lot of potential road rage. Not one ticket.

In fact, I've only been pulled over once and that was for a burned out headlight. That happened to be one of the only times I have ever driven without having my license in the car. I told the officer that I didn't have my license with me, but that I knew my license number. He told me I needed to carry it with me at all times and to get my headlight fixed. Yes sir officer, I'll get my husband on that right away when I return home. But when I get home, the headlight was working fine.

God has a great sense of humor.

Anyway, where was I?

Let's talk about driving hazards...

Back in days of old (i.e. 1993 - when I was 16), the only distractions that might occur whilst driving were the noise of the radio or the noise of friends riding with me.

Nowadays, it seems the distractions are too many to number - talking on the cell, listening to music, changing the cd's, passing sippy cups, matchbox cars, or snacks to a whiny toddler, dealing with the heinous Charlotte traffic (this week)... you get the picture.

My mom always told me (when I would get in the driver's seat), "Be careful, I trust you, its all those other drivers I don't trust." This statement would always be met with a dramatic roll of the eyes.

Now that I'm an adult and a mom, I understand.

Case In Point:

I'm driving home from SC today and I've got 10 minutes left in the trip. Its getting dark, its past the redhead's bedtime, I'm tired, but I'm watching my surroundings. I'm a good driver - most of the time - but especially when my child is in the car.

I stop at a light on a busy four lane road and glance to my left. In the lane next to me is a girl around 18 or so. While we are waiting for the light to change, she begins to text a friend - maybe a boy she is driving to see. No biggie right?

The light turns green. We ride side by side. I glance over again.

She's still texting.

Her car starts swerving.

Honestly, I don't know what I wanted to do at that moment. Part of me wanted to yell at her that what she's doing is extremely dangerous and she could kill someone (namely me and the most precious child on earth). Part of me wanted to pull over and get as far as I could from her. I don't know why it infuriated me so much. Its not like she's the first person to do it, and she certainly won't be the last. I guess I know myself enough to know that when I drive and talk on the phone (even with handsfree), my attention is divided. Instead of just being the operator of a dangerous weapon, I become the distracted operator of a dangerous, speeding weapon. I know what its like to think that you're fine one minute only to find yourself slamming on the brakes in that same minute, desperately hoping you won't careen into the back of the car in front of you.

Driving is no game, its a privilege. A privilege that even I take for granted each day.

To the girl who was texting tonight:

I don't know where you were going - maybe to work, maybe to meet your boyfriend, a friend, or going home to your parents. No matter where you were going, I'm sure you have people in your life who care about you, who would like to see your beautiful face come through the door on a hot Wednesday evening in August.

Please don't take driving for granted, and please don't put those other drivers around you (with their precious children in the backseat) in danger because of "just one more thing" you wanted to tell your friend that you were going to see in 5 minutes anyway.

It's a team effort - we all need to get where we're going safely.

walking in memphis - the mp3 shuffle

I totally jacked this idea from Jennifer P.'s blog. (cause she's the shizzle)

How it works:

Put your iPod or mp3 on shuffle mode and whatever song comes up is the answer to the questions. Feel free to pass on this idea!


1. What would describe your personality? : Say a Prayer For Me (Sponge)

2. What do you like in a guy/girl? : True Colors (Phil Collins)

3. How do you feel, today?: Good Intentions (Toad the Wet Sprocket)

4. What’s your life’s purpose?: Kyrie (Mr. Mister)

5. What is your motto? : Hazy Shade of Winter (Bangles)

6. What do your friends think of you?: Walk on the Ocean (Toad the Wet Sprocket)

7. What do you think of your parents?: Harden My Heart (Quarterflash) hahahahaha

8. What do you think about very often?: Locomotion (Kylie Minogue) What? Wesley likes choo-choos.

9. What do you think of your best friend? :Water Runs Dry (Boyz II Men)

10. What do you think of the person you like?: Love Is On The Way (Saigon Kick)

11. What is your life story?: Send Me An Angel (Paul Oakenfold)

12. What do you want to be when you grow up?: A-Team (theme song - Headshakers) I'm totally FACE.

13. What do you think when you see the person you like?: Hands to Heaven (Breathe) Thank you JJJEEEEESSSUUUSSSSS!

14. What do your parents think of you? : 6th Avenue Heartache (Wallflowers)

15. What will be played at your funeral? :Walking on Sunshine (Katrina and the Waves)

16.What is your hobby/interest?: He's So Shy (Pointer Sisters)

17. What is your biggest secret? : Love Is a Battlefield (Pat Benetar) That's way deep.

18. What do you think of your friends?: We Belong (Pat Benetar) no, I did not intentionally do this just because I heart Pat B in a big way!

19. What should you post this as? :Walking In Memphis (Mark Cohn)

wouldn't mr. freud be pleased

Sometimes, things just come out wrong.

Take for instance a little situation my uncle found himself in on a recent trip to New Zealand.

My Uncle Bill, his wife Sandra, and their two friends went to NZ (I already mentioned that). Uncle Bill and Mike wanted to go fishing one day while the ladies shopped. Since my uncle is in his 60's, and probably isn't fashion conscious, he still wears fanny packs to put all his gear in. Unfortunately, he did not have his trusty fanny pack with him on this trip (oh, for shame), so he and Mike ventured to a store they thought might carry the "saggy baggy".

Enter the sales clerk. I feel the need to mention the sales clerk is a young woman (20's ish). Uncle Bill proceeds up to the counter and asks if they happen to carry fanny packs. She asked him if he was sure he really wanted a fanny pack and he said yes, and asked again if they carried them. Okay, so maybe not a strange question - except that in NZ, "fanny" means va-jay-jay. Oops! So, what he was really asking for was a tampon! No wonder he got a really puzzled look from the sales clerk.

I realize that that was not really a Freudian slip, but merely a cultural miscommunication. It was still funny, no? Now on to my story...

Its not often that I slip and mess up my words. Okay, sure, there was that time that I accidentally said Reese's Penis Butter Cup instead of Peanut Butter Cup. No biggie right?

Well, the other day I oopsed again, but this time I was typing and my friend Nan caught my slip up and we had a great laugh over it.

She recently did a post titled Proving I'm Not Southern where she discussed such comfort foods as boiled peanuts. I for one am a southerner but have never had the likes of the boiled peanut before. So, I left a little comment for her that went something like this.

I guess I'm not southern either seeing as I've never had boiled peanuts before. Mr. Baseball loves them. I have, however, had a friend pickle. Anyone?... Anyone?... Yum.
(what I meant to say was Fried Pickle)

Well, smart-allecky Nan thought she'd be all cute and commented back to me.

No Caro, as a matter of fact I have never had a "friend pickle." I think that if I did, my Manly Man might just leave me!

(The text won't let me de-italicize, very frustrating. Hmph.) A friend pickle...now that's a new one. Mr. Freud would probably have a grand explanation of why I typed that one don't you think?

I AM YOUR FRIEND, DON'T EAT ME!!