A Very Lucky Girl

A strange number texted me on Friday, December 21. Coincidentally the same day that the Mayan calendar ended. But obviously we are still here because the Jonas Brothers promised that we make it to the Year 3000. My great great granddaughter is doing fine, in case you wanted to know.  I knew it was a Tulsa area code so I wracked my brain for all the people I knew from Tulsa, texted my friends to check and see if they had the contact number, and questioned the source, all to no avail.    The culprit, calling himself Peaches, turned out to be a complete stranger. The brother of a boy named Micah, a ChickFilA cashier that I apparently gave my number to...summer of 2010. Micah left my number on a napkin on his desk for 2.5 years. Public Service Announcement: If a girl gives you her digits on a napkin, either use the number or throw it away. Do NOT keep said napkin for 2.5 years and have your sibling text her.     I. was. so. creeped. out. Let it be k...

Forever, regardless of age. Sharbear and I typically shop for Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes this time of year, but life is changing. So when Tyler suggested we grab Christmas Wishes from Life Church a few Sundays ago I was definitely on board. I scanned through the names and requests and landed on one-year-old Isaiah, figuring he'd be easy to shop for.  Except then I got in the car and couldn't brainstorm a single age-appropriate toy. So I texted Sharbear, since she had a one-year-old ginger at one point in life and I figured they are pretty similar to real babies, and asked her opinion on what to get Isaiah for Christmas. Our conversation went somewhat like this: Me: What do one year old boys like? Sharbear: Their mommies Me: Okay, well...he's a foster kid so...next best thing? Sharbear: Things that light up and make noise. Buttons to push. Trucks. Soft things to hug. Me: Older boys like those too.... The observation is completely true. Boys of a...

It seems fitting that the 5th phone I will ever own will be the iPhone 5, courtesy of my wonderfully amazing father, Paul Arceneaux.  talk about being A Very Lucky Girl... If all goes according to plan, my new technology should arrive in Oklahoma City TODAY. And then it should enter my life the next weekend when I go home to spend time with my grandparents. So...less than 10 days? I can handle that!  It's been a long road to this day in Taylor history. I was one of the few (the proud?) that lacked a cellular device all throughout middle school and even freshman year! Who remembers that HOME PHONES have speed dial? The deal I made with Paul and Sharbear aided in my achievement of all A's (barely-damn geometry with Mrs. Kucik!) to kick start high school. The move to Beaumont and my stellar grades culminated in... The red one. Sharbear took one for the team and claimed the brown model. I don't recommend TMobile to anyone, by the way. But I do recommend an unlimite...

I complained and complained about reading Beowulf last the weekend. And complained. To anyone and everyone that would listen. Or maybe they didn't listen. I'm not a Beowulf kind of girl. It felt like reading the Lord of the Rings in poetry form. I barely made it through the Hobbit with the my love of reading intact. Conner teased me about the love lost between me and the story about dragons. (seriously, dragons? My favorite book is Little Women...)  Boys are stupid. Except for this next one. He knew how much I was HATING my sojourn through the thin pages of the Norton Anthology of English Literature and brought me sour patch kids and an ice cold water (these are a few of my favorite things...Sound of Music reference anyone?) on his way home from work on Sunday night. Life, in general, is better with an orange or green sour patch kid in your mouth. The reds are still in my room. Any takers? Even after discussing the text in class, Beowulf is still not a hero I will plast...

I'm allergic to cats. They make me sniff and sneeze and my eyeballs get soggy (mmm...imagery). So I was doubly frustrated when I received these texts from a strange area code in January. Anyone googling Cat Facts would simply realize that someone was playing a joke on me. And I eventually realized that too, but not before accusing nearly everyone I knew of signing me up/sending me these useless tidbits of information. I decided to troll right back, and dog facts was born. After that, I dragged a confession out of my friend Megan.  She started a craze. A Cat Fact craze. She told me her secret to introducing a false number and I immediately started sending Cat Facts to everyone in my contacts. The response was incredible and very diverse. Several people cussed me out (thanks roomie!) while others took my route and sent whale facts or other nonsense in reply.  I would giggle helplessly in geology while my phone vibrated with pleas of "cancel", "stop...

“The next time that boy pursues you, he better do it like a dying man looking for water in a desert. When it's the right guy, you'll know, because he'll cherish you.”   ―   Karen Kingsbury ,   Leaving Just finished the 3rd book in the Bailey Flanagan series and this is what Bailey's mother says to her when she's heartbroken about a guy that isn't reciprocating her feelings with actions, despite what he claims to feel about her. I think these are some words to live by. When I was younger and got my first cell phone, Paul and Shari set a texting boys ground rule. Basically, don't ever text them first. I followed that to the letter during high school, paranoid that they had a tracker on my texts and were able to decipher who the sender and send-ee was in any particular conversation thread. Now I make that decision myself, but I still find myself erring on the side of silence. I know they have my number, I know they have the capability to type a sentence, wh...