ben rector, ladies and gentlemen!

tonight i should be doing report cards like a machine. but i'm not a machine, i require breaks. breaks to listen to the best music out there.

and...i should have been doing report cards last night but instead went to houston house of blues to see this awesome band called brother of pearl. and i kind of know them. meaning at least three of the band members know my name. or recognize my face. or whatever. i digress.




brother of pearl=awesome band. similiar to old crow medicine show but with a gospel kick and less cocaine references.

so the band i was there to see was opening for: a dude named ben rector. didn't care, never heard of him, wasn't there to see him. well... turns out that...

i. am. obsessed. dude plays the piano like he invented it. (he could totally give the piano lady at grace dc a run for her money if you know what i'm talking about.)



he's 23, christian guy but plays mainstream music, wears suspenders, has poofy crazy hair, (obviously i loved him off the bat), a voice that is out of this world, he's from the south, and he's just...awesome. writes his own stuff, plays a few covers, i don't know why he's not a household name. other than he probably refuses to sell out to a label. or something.



anyways, way too much of me talking. you can read his bio here.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ben_Rector



OR go straight to the music. and to itunes to buy.
http://www.benrectormusic.com/store/music/into-the-morning/




one of my faves:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C14IWlbWlMg

peace. love. ben rector forever.

"are y'all a bunch of moviestars?"

There are moments when life seems overwhelming, a daunting to-do list with sadness pouring forth from almost every face I see...And then there are the moments, hours, times we can cling to, times that renew our sense of possibility and hope for the world around us. Moments filled with laughter that makes your face hurt. Sunshine and blue skies. Work forgotten for a day or two. Enjoying the company of old and new friends.

I could have done without “scary gary” - his obscenities and requests to turn the music down and up and demanding to know if we were movie stars. Other than that the loud, stoned neighbor though, it was a nearly perfect weekend.
Some highlights: Jenkins nearly destroying the pizza dough, Stephanie attempting to pour tequila, Heidi’s backpack purchase, the Bistro 108 waitress, people asking if we were a bachelorette party more than once, the vineyard, Marnita’s Alaskan celebrity status, calling the Lllano county sheriff, Elizabachel & Sara rolling their hair and looking like glamour shots (they are not invited back), taking five or six times for me to get the boat back in the slip, and, let’s not forget being the ONLY people in Cooper’s BBQ not wearing camouflage of some sort.

I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again – I’m blessed to have such wonderful friends. I’m not sure if I met someone like me that I would want to stick around. But, these ladies were all wonderful company this weekend and mostly laughed with me, not at me. I’m not sure the hill country will ever be the same.


Here’s to loud music and scary neighbors. Here’s to The Holiday. Here’s to Lucy the newborn. Here’s to Texas wine and backroads driving. Here’s to a lot of things, but mostly, here’s to good friends.

doubts about the meaning of heightened security

How do you get Janet Napolitano on the phone? I don’t want to talk policy, or red state vs. blue state drama, I just want to file a security breach report from the NATIONAL airport.

I got through security with a boarding pass for someone with the name of Andrew Carpenter. Do Seriously. Do I look like an Andrew Carpenter? I’m on the phone with my dad to tell him about how I had just seen Dana Perino (former White House Press Secretary) at another gate, and I hang up the phone to look at my seat number. I notice that my boarding pass is – WHAT? It says First Name: Andrew. Last Name: Carpenter. Security! Security!

Its times like these I wish for a BonQuiQui voice. I cut around the line of people at the Continental desk because, hello, this is making a bit nervous.

“Excuse me! I thought I should tell someone. My boarding pass is for a different name and I just now noticed.” (Boarding had already begun and I was worried they would take a while to clear this issue up.)

I tried to announce my news too loudly. No need to alarm people. And no need to draw attention to the fact that I’m an idiot. (And, for the record, so is the guy checking IDs at the security entrance.)

The airline employees start whispering to each other and take my boarding pass. While looking it over and entering information into the computer, they ask for my driver’s license. Well, it’s in the bottom of my very full purse. (Why I bought three books on my trip is beyond me- as if they don’t have bookstores in Houston?)

The ask each other questions. “You already waived it?” “Yes.” “You closed out the other?” Yes. I remained calm on the outside, but inside was beginning to imagine myself sitting in a small, brightly lit interrogation room, explaining to officials that no, I was not a terrorist, just a blonde who didn’t check the name on their boarding pass until after using the restroom, stalking a former WH Press Secretary for a few minutes, and getting a diet Snapple peach tea for the flight.
Finally, I found my ID and they had a new boarding pass for me. “It’s not even a similar name,” one said to another in an angry tone. They whipped around the counter where I was leaning to be stand face to face with me, very serious demeanors.

“Listen. You won’t get them in trouble but we need you to describe the ticketing agent that gave this to you.”

I stalled. “Well, I checked in online, all he did was print my pass and hand it to me. Really it’s the security agent that didn’t do their job. He didn’t even notice my ID and boarding pass didn’t match!”

“Well, we can’t deal with that now. We need to know the agent who gave you this pass. You won’t get them in trouble.”

“Actually, I remember his name. Hugo.” I said rit eluctantly, quietly. They immediately turned and returned to their side of the counter. One of them picked up a phone and punched a few numbers. As he put the phone to his ear, he flashed his eyes over to me. He said: “I will be getting them him in trouble.”

The other agent looked at me, clearly ready for me to move on. I held my new boarding pass for Courtney Robinson. “Thank you so much,” I said with a smile. I was glad they didn’t arrest me. “I’m really sorry about the mix up.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t apologize! You shouldn’t be sorry. Safe travels.”

The longer I thought about it, as I waited in line on the gangplank-or whatever you call it- I looked for Andrew Carpenter on my flight, I realized – this is scary. Sure, they checked my bag for liquids, telling me I barely met the regulations because of the number of tiny containers I have (have you seen my hair, sir? It requires a lot of attention from those tiny bottles, thank you.) Yet they didn’t even double take when my Texas ID was very different from my boarding pass. At least it was the same flight, but different aisles and seats. Oh, and DIFFERENT NAMES.

This is what we call heightened security? Really? Exactly how low were our standards before we heightened it? I mean sure, there haven’t been many blonde, white, urban, preppy terrorists who hide explosives in their Steve Madden boots, but... hello! There is always a first time. DHS, I suggest you step up your game. Pronto.

let all the crazy hang out

she is one of those friends that you can't find on every street corner. our friendship is the kind where you know each other's hearts and minds, you rarely hide anything, you let all the crazy hang out, if you will, and she loves you just the same.

she is not the kind that you need to try hard when you're around her. actually, the opposite - i was getting over a cold/flu bug all of last week, and constantly sniffling and blowing my nose. i actually asked her at one point - how's my nose? yes, she is the kind of friend that checks for boogers without judgment. (did i just say boogers? i must really be an elementary school teacher.)

she's the kind of friend who is cool without seeming like she tries to be. strangers approach her to comment on her stylishness. co-workers beam in her presence. boys bake her cookies from scratch and hand-deliver them.

i had such a wonderful three days with her-from wine tasting in the countryside of virginia & basking in the sun, to just crashing on her bed to watch a movie on her laptop. (I won't name the movie or you wont' believe the part about how she effortlessly cool she is.) Her face when a friend from her hometown/high school called to say she was pregnant was practically glowing with joy - she delights in the delight of other's good news.

i'm glad to have and undeserving of a friend like her. a friend who pushes my faith to be more real, my laughter to be more often, and my pursuit of happiness to be more earnest.

(also, bonus points for being her friend: she lives next door to semi-celebrities with the coolest dog ever. check it out here. http://taza-and-husband.blogspot.com/ seriously, in the blog world, they're semi-celebrities.)