Yuletide Traditions: Christmastime playlist

Not unlike the Grinch who stealthy stole the Whos' Christmas while they slept, I've stolen this post idea from the lovely Cassie. It just fit so well into my little Christmas series. It was begging to be swiped. (I also was given permission by Cassie to copy her, so I'm not all that Grinchy after all.)

To truly get into the Christmas spirit, it is vital to have a well sculpted Pandora Christmas station at hand. After three Christmases of vigilantly thumbing up or down various Christmas hits (and many, many misses), I have finally created a Pandora station that I don't have to worry about — one that gives me hour after hour of the exact songs which play while sugar plums dance in my head. It's joyful and triumphant.

If you aren't fortunate enough to have the best Christmas playlist ever, I'm in a giving mood, so here are my top 10 (in no particular order):

1. "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" by the Drifters. You can't listen to this and 1) not think about "Home Alone" or 2) sing along with the "doh-dohs." Impossible. Can't be done. Go ahead and try, but you'll fail.

2. "All I Want for Christmas Is You" by Mariah Carey. I've never been a huge Mariah fan. I can't sing every word of "Butterfly" like some people (*cough* Scott *cough*), but how can you say no to this? The piano, the jingle bells, the always failed attempt at her high notes. Seriously. You need a running start to even think you can hit the note at the end.

3. "Silver and Gold" by Burl Ives. This singing snowman's voice has been a part of every Christmas I can remember. The claymation Rudolph is a classic, as is this little reminder that the most important part of Christmas isn't what you get. Yukon Cornelius would do well to learn that lesson.

4. "Zat You, Santa Claus?" by Louis Armstrong. If you think about the whole Santa thing and the fact that once a year some big old dude comes busting into your house, you'd be a little scared, too. This song tackles this important issue.

5. "Tender Tennessee Christmas" by Amy Grant. This song got a lot of playing time while I was in college and about to go home for Christmas — something that means more when you've been away for a while. And this song reminds me of that.

6. "Christmas Don't Be Late" by Alvin and the Chipmunks. Sing it with me now: "I still want my huuuu-laaaa hoooop!"

7. "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)" by John Lennon. Sometimes, the Debbie Downer in me thinks a lot like this song: "So, this is Christmas, and what have we done? Another year over; a new one just begun." I try to make this song my charge to do more/be better.

8. "Wonderful Christmastime" by Paul McCartney. While "Happy Xmas" is a very John song, heavy with political commentary and self reflection, "Christmastime" is a very Paul song, trendy synthesizer, perky lyrics, completely cheerful. If you take the two songs together, it's sort of a Christmas version of "A Day in the Life" with their very different takes on the same idea.

9. "Christmas Time Is Here" from A Charlie Brown Christmas. This song makes me sad and overly sentimental, which is perfect for the holidays. And a children's choir always wins me over.

10. "Christmas Song" by Dave Matthews Band. In a time of sweet Christmas songs about being under the mistletoe or what's on your Christmas list, this song is a nice reminder of the reason behind it all. I love the depiction of the greatest celebration day and the greatest gift we'll receive — our salvation. It's a beautiful song about a beautiful story.

Yuletide Traditions: A Muppet Christmas Carol

Since it's now December, and we can finally acknowledge Christmas without worrying about any backlash from those "Thanksgiving is chronically overlooked!" people, I decided to do a mini-series on my favorite Christmas traditions.

Today we begin with one of my favorites between my sister and me: "A Muppet Christmas Carol."

Since the days of VHS tapes, (Remember when we used to rewind video tapes? Oh, those were the days.) Courtney and I have had a deep, resounding love for this movie, to the point where we would watch it even in non-Christmas months. And while the classic message of the Christmas Carol still shines through, what makes this movie worthy of countless rewatching is the magic and hilarity of the Muppets. And the songs. The songs that I can still sing, word for word, to this day.

There was one song, however, that Courtney and I hated — hatred so deep, that we would fast forward over it just so we didn't have to suffer through it. That song is "When Love Is Gone."

It was sappy; it was overly sensitive; it featured people singing meaningfully about love and loss and blah blah blah... Court and I couldn't take it. We didn't want heartwarming ballads. We wanted slapstick, humor, a rat getting his tail set on fire ("Light the lamp, not the rat!"), not a sensitive, singing Michael Caine. And don't even get me started on the girl. She's just so awkward to watch. And whiny.

Unfortunately, that VHS went the way of your other sock, car keys, my recorder memory card, and bobby pins, getting lost in that mystical vortex of misplaced things, and we needed a replacement.

Enter the new and improved DVD version!

Popping it in, giddy with the promise of that weird little brown guy sitting on the roof (You know what I'm talking about, Courtney), we watched the Muppet magic in all of its digitally remastered glory.

And then came the song. With finger placed on the skip button, I was prepared to say bye-bye to that girl and her bonnet just like she was about to do to young Ebenezer. But the scene wasn't there to skip. It was gone! Apparently, enough people loathed that song that, when it was re-released, they did away with it completely! Alive with the promise that we'd never have to listen to that song again, we happily danced along, singing with the Spirit of Christmas Present.

And that, children, is what we call a Christmas miracle.

Since then, we've watched it together every year. Except this year. I'm not going to Nashville for Christmas, and Courtney no longer goes to Harding so can't come over before she goes home. I guess this means we'll have to watch it twice next year.

Now for you: What's your favorite Christmas movie — the one you must watch every year or it's just not Christmas?

And with that, I leave you with the weird little brown guy sitting on the roof. Totally worth it, isn't he?

The last of my Razorback posts for the season

The Friday before Thanksgiving, Scott and I loaded up the car and prepared to make a large, four state, weeklong circle  — with stopping points in Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee and then back to Arkansas. We started out in Starkville, Miss., to see the Razorbacks play Mississippi State. This was our second road game, having gone to Oxford, Miss., the year before to watch the Arkansas/Ole Miss game (which we lost, starting a deep-seeded disgust in me for all things Ole Miss).

Despite the fact the Garmin got us to the middle of a highway and left us there once we arrived in Starkville, we really enjoyed seeing the campus and all the sights of the college town. We even got to stay in an historical hotel — the same Hilton Garden Inn where Cam Newton's dad made the (now not-so alleged) pay-for-play offer to Mississippi State. Classy, isn't it? Plus, the morning of the game, we shared the elevator with the Bulldogs' quarterback and two other very large team members ("I should've pulled a Tanya Harding and taken him out!" Scott later lamented) on their way to the game. It was a little intimidating to say the least.

Clockwise from top: Miss. State water tower; Scott and I pre-game; inside the stadium; the back of Ryan Mallett's head (it was the best I could do.)

When we got to the stadium, courtesy of a very interesting shuttle ride (two words: stripper pole), we were able to see the team get off the bus. I got to say hey to D.J. Williams (my favorite not just because he plays well, but because he actually smiles in his pictures instead of that trying-to-hard blank stare the other guys do to look tough), Ryan Mallett, Joe Adams, Jake Bequette (also a smiler), and the rest.

All the while we were "privileged" to be followed by Bulldogs fans with their infamous cowbells. (Turn your speakers way up and place them directly on your ears for the full effect.) Yes, they have a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell. I will say that they have some amazing fans, and the energy there is awesome.

Prior to this game, Mississippi State lost one of their players suddenly to cancer. This was their first home game since his death, and a large 36 was painted on the field, and the 36 yard hash mark was blacked out in his memory. Before the start of the game, they held a moment of silence for him. You could have heard a pin drop in what once was a stadium pulsing with excitement. Suddenly, cutting through the silence, was one, lone cowbell being furtively rang by his mother, standing on the field. The whole crowd cheered and rang theirs in response and support. It was heart wrenching. I cried (so what if I also cry at every military commercial, certain "Glee" episodes, and particularly moving print ads). After that it was time to dry your eyes and start calling the hogs!

It was a tight game, double overtime, but we were victorious and it was wonderful. I really didn't want to  hate Mississippi State like I hate Ole Miss. They seemed like nice people. We did sing "Hard to be humble" through twice though, which probably didn't make us seem like nice people.

Sunday, we awoke hoarse and still basking in our victory. We said good bye to Scott's mom and her husband and were on our way to Tennessee, first making a stop in Tuscaloosa, Ala., to see Alabama's campus, just because.

Our goal is to see Arkansas play an away game at every SEC West school (my original plea was every SEC stadium, but we're starting small). I'm already looking forward to seeing a game played here. It was an impressive campus, as much as that pains me to say.

And that was the end of our football season. We watched the LSU game in the comfort of my grandmother's living room, and, despite my prodding, Scott says the Sugar Bowl is a no for us. I'm already looking forward to next season!

Home, sweet home

Dear family: Can we get a newer picture taken soon? 

Since I was at my parents' and then grandmother's for Thanksgiving, I was unable to post the obligatory Thanksgiving/what I'm thankful for blog post. (Well, I could have, but I forgot my laptop and refuse to pay $2.99 for the Blogger app on my iPod.) So, as with so many things, here I am, a few days late but no less thankful.

Instead of listing each one by one, I think my "thankful-fors" are best summed up in one snapshot. Monday night at my parents' house, we were all upstairs. Courtney and I were sitting on the couch while I was braiding her hair, and we were laughing at the greatest Facebook message thread of all time. Mom was sitting in the recliner knitting and mocking Dad and Scott while they played Wii basketball — neither one too happy with losing. Of course, the family cat, Sugar, made an appearance, sitting in the middle of the living room, making sure we were all aware that she had graced us with her presence. And in that moment, I was very, very thankful that this was my family, that these were the people who loved me, and that they were my home.

I hope you had a happy Thanksgiving with whomever you are blessed enough to call "home."

A girl's guide to football cheers

Woo pig sooie!

I've always lacked the physical coordination or overall pep to be a cheerleader but never the vocal fortitude necessary to shout my encouragement. Going to the Razorback games this year has driven this point home even more. However, my limited knowledge of the intricacies of the game leave me few intelligent things to shout. I can't yell at the ref for a botched call because I'm not even sure what he called. I like to think that I know a little more about football than the average female, but I do come up short in the "things to shout" category. So, I've compiled a list of my favorite go-tos in case you find yourself at a football game with nothing to yell.

1. "Go, baby, go!" I learned this one from my parents many years ago. It is a wonderful catch-all. You don't necessarily need to know what's going on to shout it. On offense? "Go, baby, go!" can easily relate to any number of instances, whether the quarterback is getting into position to throw or your team is running down the field. On defense? "Go, baby, go!" can mean to sack the quarterback or catch whoever might be making a break for it. Husband leaving for the concession stand? "Go, baby, go!" And get me some M&Ms while you're at it. (I like to add additional go's to the end for as long as the play lasts. Add a little variety by switching up the rhythm of the go's.)

2. "Hit him, hit him, hit him!" To really emphasize this point, I like to clench my fists and quickly pound at the air for the duration of the play. It is best reserved for defensive plays or when the opposing team is returning a punt or kick off.

3. "Let's go, defense!" My greatest fear in all the world is that I will shout this only to realize we're playing offense. How embarrassing, right? So be sure you're 110% certain of your team's status before shouting this one. Good clues are if your mascot happens to be holding a cut-out letter "D" and part of a picket fence or if someone around you has already shouted it.

4. "C'mon Hogs/Razorbacks/Arkansas!" If you're lucky enough to have a team that answers to several names, your things-to-shout playbook can double or triple in size! What luck!

5. Whatever Scott just said, a.k.a. The Mockingbird: If you choose to implement The Mockingbird, be sure to allow sufficient time between the shout your about to copy and your own for risk of calling attention to the fact you're just repeating what someone else said. That's number two on the "most embarrassing" list.

When in doubt, a joyful "Yay!" or disappointed "Boo!" are also good options.

I hope that these will give you a little more confidence as you cheer on your team to victory!

"It's hard to be humble when your an Arkansas Razorbacks fan! Go Hogs!"

Election Day

I loved "Mary Poppins" as a kid (still do, actually). I had an umbrella with a duck head handle that I'd jump off the couch with in hopes of flying away like she did. It never worked. (Why did I feel like I had to clarify that my umbrella hopping never worked? Who knows. Moving on.)

I never understood this scene, though. First of all, I didn't know what Mrs. Banks was saying when she said "sister suffragette" or why she was wearing that "votes for women" sash. At the time, I thought she'd won Miss America or some other sash-wearing beauty contest. I didn't realize that there was a time when women couldn't vote, that for petitioning for that right, they'd get carted off to prison, "singing and scattering pamphlets all along the way." I'd always been dragged along to the polls with my mom on her errands and seen her vote countless times. (Side note: Say the word "errands" to any kid, and I guarantee you that they'll fall in the floor in a fit. That's what I did. I hated the word "errands." Still do.) A world where women were denied that right was nonexistent in my little mind. (The same one that thought most of the events in the Bible occurred in Tennessee. My worldview was a tiny one, OK?)

I say all this to say, if you haven't already, go out and vote today. I'm not one to get on my political soapbox and preach this view or that, but, whatever your political standing, the ability to vote is not always a given for all people. Exercise your right, and thank those who fought for it.

I also never understood why Katie Nana shrieked when Mrs. Banks pulled up her skirt. I realized later (read: today) that it's because she's showing off her undergarments. You learn something new every day, right?

My last first date

Five years ago, I was anxiously getting dressed in my dorm room in Kendall, trying on this and that, messing with my hair and retouching my makeup. I crossed through the bathroom several times to the adjoining room for my suitemates' outfit approval. Once everything in my closet had found its way onto my twin bed and the final outfit had been decided upon, the waiting and fidgeting began. By the time my phone lit up with his incoming call, the lock on my door had already clicked its goodbye, but I was too far down the hall to hear it.

As I popped out of the dorm lobby and into the affectionately named "crack" between two dorms, I saw a white truck and my date for the evening. He was wearing a long sleeved green polo, jeans, and the same nervous, excited smile I was. He opened the passenger door and helped me hoist my short self up into the truck's cabin. Easy conversation and quick glances sustained us until we got to our dinner destination. 

We slid into a booth to look over menus while the conversation flowed easily, like we'd known each other much longer than we had. When the bread came, a large crusty loaf, he, being a gentleman, reached out to break it for the both of us. Bread crumb shrapnel shot out at every angle, and a cute, pink twinge colored his cheeks as we laughed and dusted ourselves off.

Overwhelming comfort — that is what I felt. Before the check arrived, I had given up on the idea of a second date and moved ahead to numbers three and four. Dates before had been filled with awkward small talk and long lulls, sipping my iced tea to fill the silence, but not this one. This one was very different.

Napkins were tossed onto the table as we pushed through the doors and embarked out into the chilly night. Stop number two was at the local movie theater, which promised college students a break from high-priced features every Tuesday night, allowing admittance for only $2. 

Nestled into old movie theater seats, he reached out and held my hand. The movie was "Elizabethtown," and while it garnered no Oscar buzz or was well-received enough to even find its way on to TBS years later, it will forever be ranked as one of my all time favorites because of whom I was watching it with. While the relationship of Orlando Bloom's character began to grow with Kirsten Dunst's, another was beginning off screen.

Five years ago, I went on my last first date. The same truck that I not quite gracefully launched myself into now sits in the garage, and the boy whose hand I giddily held while watching a movie I still get to hold today.

Scott, thank you for picking up on my not so subtle "ask me on a date" vibes, and thank you for reminding me daily why I was so keen on you in the first place.