In Defense of Earl

No, I'm not serious all the time. Not by half. If I began my new blog with a serious and convicting post you'd probably never return. I will ease into the serious stuff by penning a heated defense of one of my most recent favorite tv shows: "My Name is Earl".

I know what you're thinking already:

"RED-neck!"

"That show is foul!"

"Everybody on that show is dirty and disgusting!"

"The humor on that show is poor!"

And on all of those counts, you would be correct. Even my husband and I find ourselves saying, "why can't Randy shave?" or "can't Earl spare $10 for a haircut?" or, my biggest issue, "why doesn't Catalina get fired?"

So it's not a perfect show. I get that. Maybe you're more accustomed to shows about educated people, like lawyers and doctors; people that shower, like models and housewives (but really, after 6 years of "Lost" we should be used to pit stains); or people that don't talk coarsely and hang out in a bar (although most tv shows film a fair amount of scenes in a local hangout of some sort).

Now for the good stuff:

Every episode of "Earl" has a moral.

The bad guy always loses.

Treating people kindly and placing others above yourself always wins.

And really, who can argue with that?

So even if you have to endure with incredulity the fact that Earl slept with Giovanni Ribisi's mother, and must marry her so that Giovanni won't kill him. Or you have to listen to Joy's incessant bossing of her husband Darnell and her terrible treatment of minorities and selfish ignorance of people in need. At the end of the day, goodness prevails, and we get the warm fuzzies. It's a win for us.

My Makeover

My husband is the blogger in the family. He's quite good at it, too. Just look at our family blogs for evidence of this. However, I've recently decided that I could possibly use a blog to communicate Truth (with a capital 'T', no less), and encourage people, and do it in a way that will (hopefully) make you laugh, smile, chuckle, chortle, grin, smirk, or snicker.

If I have achieved any of these aims, and have made you think outside the box, than I have succeeded and I am thankful.

And anyway, I have a place to write, air grievances, tell stories, and and discuss whatever I wish; and if you're here, you'll have to read it.

Think of it as one continual Facebook status update.

See you soon.

Family Year in Review

January: Alan played the role of the selfless friend in dashing over the Pacific in the Delta cattle-car to join his friends on a resort island off the coast of Thailand for Garrett Jones' wedding. He also played the role of selfish husband in leaving his wife at home with her THREE daughters. Do anything for a friend:)

February: Maggie and Alan left the world of fried chicken and stores filled with items Made in China for the land of, well, fried chicken and factories filled with items Made in China. Hong Kong, Nanjing and Guangzhou, 14 days of paperwork and day trips and a bundle of 2-year-old quiet in our presence. Hao Ge, soon to be named Garrett, misrepresented himself while in his motherland. We survived the culture shock and exhaustion as God intended, with mild and whispered sarcasm.

March: Adrenaline brought us home to the First Day of the Rest of Your Life. "Garrett, this is your new sister... this is your new sister... this is your new sister... this is your new Mama, this is your new Papa, this is your new Aunt, this is your new Gramma-Gramma, this is your new Papa Boo, this is your new Grandpa... (you get the picture)." Garrett slept a lot, we didn't know what we got ourselves into, and the month ebbed away without much thought. None of the horror stories moms dream up and gossip in the chat rooms occurred, much to God's praise. Emily quietly turned 7 with a quiet lunch with Alexa-bexa, the next-generation Cosgrove.

April: Did I mention adrenaline? Well, it petered out. It's been nice and all having Garrett visit, but when exactly is this kid going home? This begins the hardest 3-4 months in our marriage, our parenthood, and probably our adult lives. The only positive part is that we write this from this end of the chronology.

May: "Garrett, this is your Gramma Belle, and Uncle Jacob and Uncle Michael." And welcome to the beach, where you can play for days and, wait, get a 'tan' (really, it is more of a bronze). Hats off to the extended family in all directions for being incredibly loving and accepting and friendly to Garrett. Exceeded expectations. Louise, Summer & Autumn get their own table at Applebees.

June: Night Terrors, setting hour, day, week and month records being broken for quantity of times being sent to room and amount of time standing 'on the wall'. Alan recuses himself from discipline, asking Maggie to step in and take this role. He recognizes that Garrett sees him (the first male figure in his short life) as a Policeman, and not a Father. Garrett's first American birthday celebrated with extended-Bowling family.

July: the oh-so memorable "I don't feel like going to bed" standoff that ended with Garrett asleep on the wood foyer floor without pillow or blanket. WE ARE MARSHALL. Louise starts to learn to read.

August - September: Garrett' s tendency to obedience makes potty-training pretty easy. Mom and Dad start looking for reasons to be proud of Garrett and who he is rather than frustrated at who he isn't (yet). Life smooths over noticeably. Fourth Annual Trip to Ridgecrest Conference Center, thanks to our brother Rocko. Emily and Louise dig the cafeteria. Garrett hits on a cute seasonal worker while the parents are out for dinner one night. Made his daddy proud. Bored while sitting in Daddy's lap during a reptile show, Eliza hawks one in daddy's hands. Never a dull moment.

So long, Paul

I just heard that Paul Newman died. *sigh*

I have loved him since my teens for these reasons:

he was never a scumbag Hollywood man

he stayed married to the same woman for a hundred years

he used his money and celebrity status to support good causes like taking care of sick kids and promoting healthy foods

he was absolutely the best looking man on the planet, particularly when he was around thirty

I will miss him dearly, but when I miss him most I will just watch "The Long Hot Summer".... :)

My own place to dwell.

I decided a few weeks ago to write my own book. I have been way obsessed with the Twilight series (see last post), and have had this story in my mind for around 18 months. I sat down one Sunday afternoon and began tapping away. I am at least 150 pages in (on Microsoft Word), and still have plenty to go.
It is a love story, a college story, a mother and daughter story, and a sad story, and I've had sad days writing it. What's funny is that for a while, I traded my Twilight obsession for an obsession about my own book; I thought about it in bed, while doing dishes, while exercising - actually, last week I had a massive epiphany about my climax while running- which lends credence to Alan's theory that I just love to be obsessed.

Will I try to get people to read this or publish this when I'm done? As much as I love my characters, I don't flatter myself to think that this is that good.

However, I have another story percolating in my mind. Maybe after I'm done with this one, I'll trade obsessing over it for obsessing over the next one.
And the beat goes on. :)

Jumping on Bandwagons

I jumped on a huge bandwagon this week, and have buckled in securely for a long ride. I was a slow comer to the Harry Potter bandwagon, but once I claimed my seat I found it quite comfortable. I devoured the books, loved the movies, scoured the Internet for theories and postulations, and waited with baited breath for Harry's fate in Book 7. What to do, now that we know? What else can I read obsessively, and ponder endlessly, now that Harry is safely tucked away in his secure future?

Answer: Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series.

If you don't live in a cave, you have already heard of it. If you are a cave-dweller, however, I will tell you the gist and wait for your inevitable blank stare and "huh"? This is how the conversation usually goes.

"It's a vampire love story."
huh?
"well, he's a beautiful, tortured vampire, and she's a perceptive 17 year old human girl."
didn't we do this with Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt?
"but he's a good vampire. he doesn't eat humans. he eats animals. and he loves her... well, he also wants to eat her because her blood sings to him, but he loves her more than he wants to eat her. does that make sense?"
not really

It's a little dicey, this vampire-love thing, but hey, the books are actually quite good. I shamefully read the first book in about 36 hours (yes, I do have 4 children, but school's out....). Book 2 took me longer because I forced myself to take a day off so I could do laundry and sleep without theories and vampire images keeping me awake. My best friend bought them all (after I saved her a seat on the bandwagon and hauled her up there with me.), so I will read Books 3 and 4 next week, after Book 4 is released.

All in all, perhaps I am addicted to long sweeping series that keep me obsessively focused until I've read every drop available. My husband thinks perhaps I am addicted to being addicted. He says I read and devour too quickly and don't let things sink in.

Sink in. Ha Ha.

And you know, after the books are done, there is the movie based on Book 1 being released in December. My addiction will have died down by then, only to be flared up again in preparation for seeing the movie.

Oh, I'm in for a long bandwagon ride this time. But the view is good.

New favorite book alert!

Last week I finished a great one called "Enemy Women" by Paulette Jiles. While I'm not usually a Civil War buff, this one (a historical fiction) honed in on a particularity about Missouri, that it was apparently not wholly Rebel or Union, but each county or farm, even, was something different. Anyway, it's about a young girl that gets sent to prison in St. Louis for Rebel spying, catches TB, falls in love with her Union captor, who helps her escape, then embarks on a "Cold Mountain"-esque trek back to her farm to find her family. It's beautifully written.

After reading such staunch, serious stuff, and living a nightmarish finishing up school, I have embarked on a ChickLit streak that will last through my beach weekend. So far I have read two books by Helen Fielding that have kept me in stitches, and am now on a Katie Fforde, although I have one more Fielding waiting...