Guys, we like to celebrate birthdays RIGHT

For my dad's Big Birthday he came to visit me in Alabama and Mississippi.

And I'm not trying to knock sweet home Alabama -- but I think Old Miss (not the university but the actual state) was his favorite.

I mean everyone (important) in the State wore UCLA colors for him.

For once in a very long time he was surrounded by super manly men.  Way more men than women and he got to eat meat and not leafy salads for dinner.

And we gave him his first birthday pinata.  

(How we managed to overlook giving him a pinata in the 30+ years we've known him is beyond me).

Magic Man even pulled out the ol' gun holster for him to wear in the woods.  

He knew exactly what would make dad super happy.

Look, Bham and AL was fun and all but we did things like make 5 people share dad's one slice of birthday pie.

And visit my office (which is an all-female company) . . .

 . . .Then instead of eating lunch, he had to wait for Ash and I to finish last minute assignments.  (Not the same assignment - unless Ash was also writing copy for the December issue.  Hey! She better not steal my ideas!)

So I don't blame him for liking Mississippi more.

I know I do.

(Just tell me when it gets to be too much and I start grossing you out.  'Cause then I'm gonna lay it on even thicker.)

Guys, I just had a full on Pani

As in Panic Attack.

Do you know what these photos are of?

This is me, at some point, getting this:

My first tick.

Sorry to be vulgar, but that little jerk face had all my blood in his stupid, fat body.

I discovered him around 6:30AM today and I had to call MAGIC MAN before I could do anything else.

See, I grew up hearing tick horror stories from my parents.  I'm not sure why because we don't have them in CA but they were ALWAYS talking about ticks and how their heads come off and bore into you and you get lymes and you die.  Every time.

Magic Man, calmly told me I wouldn't die and hurry up and pull it out of me please.  So the tick photo shows the dumb-dumb tick on the right and my blood on the left.  What a little glutton.   

You know, had I just done as he said and sprayed with tick and bug spray like we see here, I could have avoided this melt down.

But I'd say it was all worth it, because now we have OUR SONG.

And considering my new lifestyle:

It probably won't be my last.

Guys, I've always held back. . . until now

        

When a boy writes your name in the dirt with a bullet, it's basically over.

I didn't even ask him to - he just went off on his own and wrote it.

Who knew my own name would do it for me?

Today, for example, he sent me this:

From his notes from today's meeting.

Yep, I love my name written out . . . by this guy:

But wait - before you judge me - you should know

. . . he's got a sweet spirit too.

But mostly he's just hot.

But by hot I mean really funny.

Nah, I mean hot.

Guys, Let's Head on Back to the South

So this is what I look like now that I have lived here for 5 months.

As you can see, I haven't gotten too fat from BBQ and I am always happy.

If you ever come to visit me I will take you on a tour of my office.

Even if you don't want one I'll still take you on a tour.

I will also insist you Only eat BBQ.

And by BBQ, I mean ribs.

Then I will force you to see all the sites.

Like the largest cast-iron statue in the US (or the world, I forget but just know it's big).

 I might even force you to go to the top - even at night.  

Even at night in the rain.

Don't even ask 'cause I'll do it.

Then we might venture out of Bham, like Mere and I did and see the sites in the real country.

And find robot love.

And waterfalls (multiple I should add) that are so high they make your palms sweat.

The best waterfall HAS to be Noccalula falls.

Named after the Indian Princess who threw herself off the waterfall so she wouldn't have to marry a guy she didn't love.  

The statue is a bit macabre to say the least.  

So obviously, this was my favorite.