Alternate Title:  The Night I Swung the Vote

This is the post where I called it.

It is the ONLY time that I have ever called it.  Ever.  Of course, I’ve really only watched 3 seasons faithfully…

I picked Clay, the world picked Ruben.

I picked Blake, the world picked Jordin.

But now?

I picked David Cook…and the world picked David Cook.

This is the post were I made it happen.  It’s there, I promise… right after my sappy story about my daughter and my mothering abilities?

Where I wrote “Now I feel bad that I gave her David Cook’s text in number instead of Archie’s”?

See it now?

Good.

I like to think that that’s what made it all worth it.

Let me live in my dream world please.

Because last night?

That’s the first time that I have EVER voted.  Ever.  But I knew that when Archie won, I was going to want to complain.  And I can’t complain if I don’t vote.  So I voted.

And it’s a good thing that he won.  Had he not, I might never had watched American Idol again.  Never mind that I said that last year when Blake didn’t win.

Until next time…

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My earlier post, at the time it was written, was so random. I even titled it “I have no Idea Where This Came From”…

A letter from the ex, a memory of my mother, an example of how I should be… it was just so completely out there…

For me. And maybe for you.

But not for my God.

Oh no. He had a plan, a purpose for that email that was written over six years ago…. a plan that I would find it… Monday… because that’s when I wrote that post… on Monday.

He needed me to see that email. He needed me to remember that time of my life, the sadness, the hurt, the pain and how my mother came to my side because I needed all of that to be armed for Tuesday.

Tuesday. The day that my daughter found out that her big sister (from the Big Brother Big Sisters Program) is moving. The day that my daughter felt the pain. The day that my daughter needed me… just to be there. To hold her. To offer her tissues and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

She found out after our game… in which we lost and to some very snobby, stuck up coaches who thought the game was a sure thing. We gave them a run for their money. They weren’t so smug toward the end.

She was quiet when she got in the car. She didn’t say much at all. The car was somber. Even though I knew what had just happened, no one else did. And she didn’t know that I knew.

And then, faintly over the sound of the radio, I heard her fight back the tears. I peeked back there and saw her trying to wipe them away so that no one would know.

This is when I knew something was wrong. Because Samara is a top notch drama queen. Real tears are quiet. These were real tears… tears she didn’t want to show because that would admit true hurt.

She’s more like me than I thought.

My immediate thought was “let’s go get ice cream” because ice cream fixes everything. Even she wasn’t excited. Not even when she found the new flavor “playdoh”… but she ate it… quietly.

When we arrived home, I shouted for them to get their crap out of my car. Quietly, she did as I asked and then came inside.

As I stepped through the door of the house, I felt it… I felt Him speaking to me saying… “You know what you have to do for her.”

And I did.

We cuddled on the couch to watch American Idol. She laid her head in my lap and was still… so unusal for her. I rubbed her hair and handed her tissues as needed.

Occasionally, she would ask who I wanted to win… claiming herself as a member of the Archie camp. She had my cell phone poised and ready to go. Quietly. Respectfully.

I expected the events of my memory to happen a few years from now. I expected it to be over a boy.

And now?

She’s tucked away in my bed. Sleeping peacefully and for the time being, not aware of the sadness that she faces in losing her big sister.

And I feel horrible that I gave her David Cook’s text in number when she asked for Archie’s.

Until next time…

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…13 year old girls with babysitting money and cell phones.

I wish I could take credit for that quote as I think it’s pure genius, but I can’t.  It was said by Frank Martin on Twitter tonight.  (Are you twittering?  You should be.)

It was not his time to go.  It wasn’t.  I never saw him going all the way, but I saw him going a little further than he did.

I’m bummed.

Really, really bummed.

I guess now I’ll pull for David Cook.

And while I’m on the American Idol soapbox… I watched bits and pieces of last night’s show today.  I won’t get into the whole Jesus is now a shepard in the song at the end (which, I will say that I thought it was great that they sang it regardless of that change because MILLIONS got a piece of the Word last night) but WHAT WAS UP WITH MILEY CYRUS??????????????????????????

The whole time I was watching her “when can I see you again” I was thinking “where is the Miley that *I* know?” you know, because I know her oh so well.

She was too, I can’t think of the word…. too… grown up?  maybe?

The gestures, the moves, etc… I just didn’t find that appropriate for the fan base that she has.  And I was shocked, really.  I don’t think that I’m being too harsh, as I’ve conferred with others.

I was dissappointed.

In other news, today I treated myself to a manicure, pedicure and eyebrow wax.  All three were long overdue, and I swear, after the wax, I think if I would’ve stepped on the scale I would’ve been two pounds lighter.

And the whole makeup thing?

Somehow I went from a little bag with four items (lip gloss, mascara, eye liner, and one eyeshadow which i never wore) to this box with lots and lots of stuff in it.

I bought a new mascara that was recommended on Chic Critique (I heart this site….) and I LOVE it… and an eye lash curler.  I was curious.  I really think those should come with instructions better than they were… like a video or a pamphlet to show you how to use it.

Or maybe, just maybe, I should leave well enough alone.  Not sure how I feel about it, or if my lashed really NEED curling.  But it’s now tucked in my little box with the rest of my stuff.

And I think I’ve found some color combinations that I like.

I could go on and on about other aspects of my life that need a comment here or comment there, but I’ll spare you…

at least for tonight.

I’m going to curl up in my bed (there’s a post in and of itself) and call it a day.

Until next time…

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