Is it lying if...

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Is it lying if it's for April Fools' Day?

On more than one occasion I have been a target - nay - a victim of David Stone's practical jokes. Most people find joy in holidays such as Christmas, Thanksgiving, and 4th of July, yet David, a dear friend of mine, always finds a way to share his passion for April Fools' Day. His tall tales are always so realistic that year-after-year he finds a way "in". My fake eviction from him a few years ago took the cake. That was quite the day. So when David called me a few weeks back to ask if I could help with a 'soon-to-be viral' April Fools' Day joke, I was curious. When I found out I originally had sparked his interest for the idea, I was flattered. Well, really just glad I wasn't getting duped yet again.

Back when I lived with David I took over the living room on Monday nights watching ABC's 'The Bachelor'. I told him repeatedly that he should audition, and that if he didn't apply, I was going to do it for him. Years later here we are. 

David's ultimate charade is being recognized as a selected contestant on the upcoming season of 'The Bachelorette'. It started with a rumor a few weeks back, followed with the 'official' ABC letter, and finished with a simple post of "LA Bound" the night prior to his glorious holiday.

I gave him insight to the show, when they would probably be doing casting, what he should maybe say, and his posts took off. This little white lie was killing me. Watching the "likes" and comments pour in was entertaining, but I felt like such a cheat. I have no doubt that David will continue to attempt his pranks again and again, so when I got a chance to jump on board, I did. 

I have to say my favorite comment of them all is from a member of our bowling league, Othniel. Not a moment of 'well wishing' for David, but instead making sure he pre-bowled this week. Leaving for LA would definitely interfere with the "Bowling Stones" average. 

The second thing I have noticed is how many people have suddenly requested David's "friendship" or commented on how their sisters cousins husband once knew him or something along those lines. 

The moral of the story for David, however, is that he'd have 300+ friends and acquaintances rooting for him to "find love", or at least get a few extra stamps on his already well traveled passport. 

The joke may be on all of you, however, the real joke could be on David. About a month and a half ago, as the past season of 'The Bachelor' was in full swing, I submitted an application on David's behalf. With any luck, we'll soon be thinking he's the boy that cried "Bachelor". Fingers crossed.

David/Elan's Confession:

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Terribly Awesome

Talk about first world problems. Our DVR broke and not only won't record, but we lost all the terrible television we love. I moved in with Lauren almost a year ago, and I would like to give her all of the credit for my new found appreciation of the BRAVO network. As in "Bravo, you're an idiot". We have jointly decided that the DVR decided to purge our recordings as an intervention. Tonight we had to decide between Scandal and Party Down South. As Lauren mentioned, it's a choice no one should have to make. I'll let you decide what we each chose. With our constant recordings, I will now have to put in the effort to find out when these shows actually air. 

Every Real Housewives....with the real passion for Beverly Hills and Atlanta.

Who doesn't love a good ecigarette? Get after it, Kim. Vanderpump Rules is just as competitive when it comes to our DVR. With each series having multiple nights of reunions recently, the DVR is clutch.

Clearly Stassi has some feelings to share with the group. Terribly awesome. The next best "reality" programming I tune into is Party Down South. A South Carolina version of my beloved Jersey Shore. Feast your eyes on this fun crowd...

There's a trend going on here, and I'm not referring to the above 90's throwback disaster of the unzipped jean short era. I'm referring to the new idea of southern television. Enter Southern Charm, filmed in Charleston, SC. 

Now that the Bachelor is over, Lauren and I need our faux romance fix. Thanks to friends Lindsey and Jill - who clearly have the same interests as us - we found Are You The One? It's just as bad as it sounds. Leave it to MTV...

Other activity - 30 by 30, Chelsea Lately, Naked and Afraid, Keeping Up With The Kardashian's, Modern Family, Dancing with the Stars (that's mine - much like her feelings about me wanting to see a professional live magic show, Lauren doesn't get it), the occasional movie, and of course Homeland (hurry back to me). 

I have no doubt I'm missing something. Moral of the story - I love Sunday's, I'll never get to all of this without a renewed DVR, and God bless On Demand.

Fingers Crossed

So The Bachelor ended Monday. #JUANuary is officially over in more ways than one. Not sure where we lost him, but he started out as such a stud and then suddenly the "turdiness" came out, By the end I found myself calling him an ass. If you know how it all ended I guess I can see both sides. If you don't click here. Hot. Mess. 

No reason to say "I love you" to Nikki if he didn't mean it and I can appreciate honesty more than anything. He still wants to be with her and at the end of the day showing you want to be with someone is the most important. Did Nikki look like an idiot? Definitely. But if she's actually happy, more power to her. It's only a matter of time before she realizes it's not gonna happen though.

With one ending comes a new beginning - hopefully. Fingers crossed. For months, years, longer than I probably think, I have told my friend +David Stone that he needs to sign up for ABC's The Bachelor. On paper and in person, David would be the perfect candidate. Not only being a business owner, home owner, and just a genuinely nice human being, David has the desire to travel and a youthful spirit. Of course the lady aspect of the show would peak his interest, too. Like I said, perfect for the show. 

So if David wasn't going to fill out the application, I was going to do it for him. So I did. David got a call this week for a future phone interview. Funny thing is I could actually see him with Andi, pictured above, the next bachelorette. Obviously too early to tell, but knowing David, there may be a future secret to keep.....or share with everyone. Go David - get that passport ready.

Pump Cheese

Many people post on social media sites about their extensive workout or share a picture of the healthy meal they just made. Yea I might tell you I ran a race here and there, but that's few and far between. Instead I'd rather tell you about my guilty pleasures. My love for a nice set of buns, pump cheese, with an ice cold Barqs Root Beer on the side. I'm talking about my relationship with Fuddruckers. Anyone who has had at least one visit knows that Fudd's will never  let you down. In fact even when you try to leave, Fudd's still wants to show you the love by sending you off with a cookie or chocolate shake. I see what you're doing. And yes, I will take 3 for a $1. Are they soft? Of course they are. Like I said, Fuddruckers doesn't disappoint.  

Those who know me best don't even have to say the location by name - a simple "Pump cheese on Wednesday?" is all that is needed. You had me at pump cheese. Throw a side of pickles into that basket and I'm yours forever. Slap a piece of bacon on that burger and there's no tellin'. I know what you're thinking and your disgusted. Insert exercise photo here:

Lungs4Life 5K - Greenville, SC

There's 2 sides to every story. In this case, you either know exactly what I'm talking about and your like, yes, duh, Fuddruckers - 'If I were poor I would literally buy a bun and make the best salad ever because their fixins bar is amazingly on point #pumpcheeseforlife' or you're are on the other side, passing judgement and missing out on one of the finer blue collar establishments of life. In that case, I'm sorry I'm not sorry. Come visit, the meal will be on me. I guarantee a new relationship will blossom. 

Upon arrival to the counter to place my order this evening, Will pointed out the calorie sheet defining my meal. I'm not one to normally count calories, so, well, I didn't. Not that it would have stopped me, but I'm sure one cup of liquid gold is well over the suggested intake. 2 boys conversing over whether to go for the pound challenge or not,  they didn't seem to care either. Decisions, decisions. After careful thought and weighing in how delicious the fries are, he and Stephen took on the 2/3rd combo..... with of course....plenty of pump cheese. Cookies to go, they roll'd us out of there.

The only thing that may rival my love for pump cheese is Ledo's Pizza. A Maryland hot spot, with 1 rare location in the south - Rock Hill, SC. Not sure how it made it down, but I'm not asking questions. If you run into a Ledo's, I beg you to stop and eat one for me. 

The Year of the Gaucho Pant

During the fall of 2005 there was a terrible pant invasion, and I admit I was part of it. They were everywhere. A thin yoga-bell-bottom-capri pant, if you will. They were known as the gaucho. Any decent sorority member had a pair in black to match her trendy letter t-shirt she was so proud to wear, and the real sorostitutes had them in several colors. It was the classy sweatpant. Roll out of bed, or match with your pearls, either way the dining hall and library were ready for your sweet cheeks to come strutting in. Add a pair of Rainbows on your feet and croakies hanging around the neck and the frat daddy's heads were turning. Or were they? I recently took a look back at albums on Facebook. Like Buzz's girlfriend - - Woof. Delete. Delete. And then I clicked delete, again. The year of the gaucho was terrible. Sophomore year to be exact. Killer in the terms of raging, but Dear God Lacey what were you thinking in terms of my wardrobe. For the Clemson fans - Explorers, the Ski Lodge, the Lakehouse, the quad, TTV, dt, and more...but for "Flash" - the digital photographer that took pictures at parties - probably literally a killer. Gaucho pants everywhere! The real bonus...elastic waistbands. Unfortunately some of us homegirls had figures to fit the pant. I'll go out on a limb and take a guess that like rompers and sock buns, unless you were already attractive, they weren't helping anybody. In some of the pictures I found it looked liked my face had been stung by a swarm of bees. Thank goodness for my strong sense of humor. 

Turns out this sweet fashion trend hasn't completely died. You can still score yourself a pair at your local Target, right next to the Jeggings - spandex denim with fake pockets and belt loops. 1 trend I'm proud to say I've passed on. 

So go back in time. Check out the invasion of the infamous gaucho pant that swarmed campus' and classrooms everywhere. Or perhaps, that's one year you'd rather just forget.

Noteworthy

I love a good note. Whether it's a post-it, a hand written card, or on a scrap piece of whatever, the surprise of unexpected words always makes me smile. Call it sentimental but in high school I was once slid a lunch napkin with "To Lacey:" and a flower drawn on it and I thought it was the sweetest thing ever. Swag points to that handsome sophomore. I can only imagine what his game looks like these days. And there is nothing better than coming out to your car, getting in, and seeing a note waiting your arrival underneath your windshield wiper. A sentence or two, maybe a "hi", doesn't matter. I love it. 

Not that I wouldn't love a good passed note these days either, folded like origami as a bonus, but it gets me thinking of the glory days of middle school and "dating". If I said to my mom, "I'm going out with Robbie", she'd say, "Oh really, where are you going?". A real comedian, my mother. What it really meant was that I was passing notes with him between classes, probably wrote him back on the bus ride to school, and between rec league soccer games on the weekend we may have begged our parents to drive us to the mall. Pure romance. For a while I saved all those gems and when moving to our new home, read through each of them. Between rocking skorts, Adidas windbreaker suits, a year with braces, and what was in these notes - all I can really say is that I am thankful social media was not around. No need to have any record of my appearance, nor my awesome attempt at being 'cool'. My talent show dance in the 8th grade probably spoke for itself - - an awesome routine to La Fiesta by Will Smith. And yes, it was featured on his Willennium CD. I bet the notes were pouring in after that showing. 

Pass somebody a note today. It's a guaranteed smile.

Dearly Beloved...

...we are gathered here today for me to share the news with you, that I have recently put some thought into becoming an internet ordained minister. If you are like any (or all) of my friends who I have recently told this to, you are probably scratching your head or have a look of disgust on your face, asking...why?! Well, like all great ideas it stemmed after a few beverages were consumed a few weekends ago with some friends. And what better place for the birth of this idea than at an engagement party. I was discussing with my happily married friend, Sara, how she would enjoy renewing her vows with her husband, Clay. Still newlyweds themselves, the conversation as you can imagine running on an open bar, got away from us a little, but resulted in me getting ordained, becoming a notary for the paperwork, and hosting what might be a very casual sand volleyball tournament/backyard BBQ party in their honor. I'm quite the event planner/entertainer, so becoming ordained would just be one more thing to add to the social résumé, anyway. Now this obviously isn't the reason I'd be doing it, yet would be a bonus. Living down south in the "Bible Belt", as well as just understanding the general importance of a ceremony to begin with, I can see where one might not want my services at their initial wedding. However, like the character of Joey Tribbiani on the great show, FRIENDS, I think my personal touch would be an asset to any one's big day. I've been to several wedding ceremonies (mostly destination), including my own 2 sisters, where the ministers do not know any thing about the bride and groom and you can clearly tell they tried to memorize facts about them to share with the congregation. Not a bad thing, but just lacking a personal touch. 

I could provide whatever you wanted. Perhaps a certain look or theme. A certain story. Maybe it's nothing. I know my opening and sermon would be better than this:

Maybe you're one of those "get in and get out" couples that's just ready to celebrate. Short and sweet ceremony - I can do that. I, too, like to party, but you already knew that because we are great friends and you want me to officiate your wedding. In fact when sharing this dream of mine with members of my bowling team on Wednesday, one Debbie Downer (sorry Lauren) crushed a party dream and told me I wouldn't be able to win the lottery if I became a notary. Another conversation that spiraled out of control. Before we knew it, we had realized that suddenly I was actually worried I was going to be a 26 year old ordained minister-notary that won 300 million dollars and couldn't collect. A little far fetched. We decided I'll cross that bridge when I come to it :) 

So what are the negatives? A 'waste' of money? If you are looking at a financial return on my investment, then yes. But if you are looking at memories that could last a lifetime, then ehh, maybe not. 

Abuse of power? This was brought to my attention - and I take offense that you would think that I would do something like that (cough*Hannah*cough). Trust me, I know I can't just go around marrying people. According to this really 'reliable' website, I need paperwork and letters for that...but... apparently nothing else.

So yea, stay tuned. Who knows, the next wedding you go to, I may just be the one legalizing the love on someones big day. xoxo

9-8-9

Predictions for my first round scores on Dancing with the Stars. A girl can dream. Have you ever thought you’d be genuinely good amazing at something? Maybe it’s singing (cough*Jill*cough), maybe you think you’re an exceptional athlete (and you’re probably not)…well I really, honestly believe that given the chance to be a contestant on ABC’s Dancing with the Stars, that mirror ball trophy would be mine. I don’t watch every season, but when I do, I find myself imitating the moves. It’s embarrassing and mainly no one else is around to even see it. However, I DO sense that I look good doing them, so I must, right?! Of course. Well, perhaps I’m wrong – if nothing else I think I have some qualifications that they might like.

There is always a television or movie star on the show. I use the term “star” loosely. Depending on the rest of the cast, and how desperate they might be that season, the star power could vary. Whether it is the Disney Channel, a Spanish Soap Opera or Reality TV star, you’re bound to see one, if not two, from any given category. Perhaps my days as a young thespian could come in handy after all. I make great facial expressions and have a cheerleading background. That ought to sell ‘em. My father also once told me I had the moves of, well, hmm, one of my more… urban friends? I guess that’s the best way to put that. Think rap. Total compliment and what I would assume to be the basis behind my idea of thinking I can dance. 

They also have athletes. I don’t have a Super Bowl ring or gold medal, but what I do have is varsity letters (soccer, lacrosse, swimming – big deal right here), certificates of participation (yes, actual certificates that I’m sure my mother framed at some point in time) and after college bowling and kickball leagues to prove that I’d be a real ace out on the dance floor. Move over Jacoby Jones. 

There’s an occasional singer. I can’t carry a tune. I’ll admit that. I wouldn’t want to be a triple threat anyway. After all, everyone loves an underdog. Why do you think I gave myself a 9-8-9 on the first night. Always room for improvement…until I get perfect 10’s. 

My only real concern may be the costumes being a little tight on this current bod. Though dancing can be one hell of a workout, so perhaps I’ll drop some L-B’s. I’ve taken a Crunk Cardio class in Spartanburg, SC a few times. A class of about 30. A live DJ. And “crunk dancing”. It’s exactly how it sounds. My urban roots came out BIG time. They had to. I was definitely a minority, and probably the worst in the class, but man did I think I looked the part. I think I was in a squat the whole time I was dancing….ladies you know how that is ‘at the club’. I’m drifting….anyway, the point:

I just want to dance…and if I may request, on Dancing with the Stars.

It's Complicated

I'm in a complicated relationship. I know it. I don't care. And I want to share it with you, because I think you will probably understand. In fact, I'm not just in one, I am in multiple. 

The first, and longest, is with Dora the Explora (my Explorer). Or as I like to also call it/her the "Exploder". I was once told that FORD stands for Fixing Or Repairing Daily, and sometimes I feel like it. Now for the most part, she has been a real trooper. Driving up and down the East Coast, back and forth to weddings, holidays, vacas, etc. So I really can't complain. Except for when it comes to my buns. That's right - -  my non-toasty backside, that I jokingly call the extension of my lower back - - my gluteus maximus if you will. My car has no seat warmers and for that I curse the designer of this vehicle who must have grown up in the sunny lands of somewhere not here, because just as I get to work, the inside of my car is finally reaching a reasonable degree on an icy winters morning. A real first world problem I know, but none the less a huge strain on Dora's and my relationship. She redeems herself with incredible AC and a flashy sunroof, but these frozen cheeks just can't handle the frost.

Chicken Fingers. How I love you so. Unfortunately though you grew up on the children's menu and society has deemed our relationship an unfit match. You're perfect for a hangover brunch and I know that if I go somewhere and for some reason can't find anything I like, you will surely be there for me....just, on a paper menu with a side of crinkle fries and crayons. I love to love you, but I'm 26. Not 6. It's complicated.

The real thing, from Kate herself

As a freshman in college I had a roommate named Kate. She wore the fugliest old lady slip-on house shoe/slippers around the dorm. Kate, you know I love you and I'd like to formally apologize for hating on you. My delicate size 6 feet have gotten unusually used to wearing slippers around the hard woods of my apartment. I blame it on the chill of the floor or the 85 year old woman who has snuck into my soul this winter. Mine are somewhat adorable if I do say so myself, but still, fashion is out of the question. Thank God I live alone.

My DVR on a Thursday night. It has to hate me. Not only for what I'm actually recording, but for what's still pending from the week prior. Simply put, it's the best $10 I spend a month. I'm embarrassed, yet proud of the length of commitment I have put into some of these series. I have a love-hate relationship with Grey's Anatomy, Glee, Project Runway, Breaking Bad, Law & Order: SVU, The Bachelor, Chelsea Lately, Modern Family, Parenthood, The Biggest Loser, and a few others that run seasonally. Obviously it's a little much, and what some would call terrible television, but they are invested relationships. Hence the need to record. Some over lap and when it comes time to choose, peace out Glee. It's complicated.

Oh the troubling world of relationships.

Me and CeeLo

In my current career I can't deny that I've had the privilege of meeting some pretty cool celebrities. Sitting at a friends house recently with NBC's The Voice on in the background, I suddenly realized something. I want to meet CeeLo Green. I've never had such an urge before. This man would love me. I have no doubt, and I began to explain to my friend why. Mostly joking reasons of course, but every good joke has some truth behind it. Follow me and try and forgive my over confidence, but after discussing with my other super confident showbiz friend, we really found some similarities. Now, if you've ever watched the show, he gives off a little bit of a 'pervie' vibe, but I do think its in a charming way, if that possible - and for him it totally is. CeeLo has the ability to make creepy, totally ok (no people, that's not one of our similarities, keep reading). I'm just saying, good for him. Just look at this class act! Who wouldn't want to be friends with him? I can hear that raspy, yet smooth, laughable tone, sayin' "Wahcha name darlin'?". With just one response of my own somewhat raspy voice, that I've been told on a few occasions sounds like Emma Stone, I'd say, "Lacey Hennessey" (with a big 'ol smile added in of course). Let's be honest, just with the name Hennessey, I don't think he'd forget me. You follow me? Similarity numero uno. Good names. Soul sista and brotha ;)

We both have big hair....and its full of secrets. Sitting next to Christina Aguilera for an entire season while wearing a leotard I'm sure he's bound to hear or see a few thing that are meant to be kept to themselves, and mine, well my luscious locks just can't be contained. Literally, sometimes I think each strand has a mind of its own. Its everywhere. He'll love it.

#3. What can I say? We just love animals. Now I'm more of a dog lover myself, where as CeeLo tends to frequent cats and dress in bird like costumes. But opposites do attract, thus again, making us best friends in what we in 'the biz' like to call 'the biz'. I too like colorful outfits and big sunglasses, so, I have that goin for me, which is nice (Caddyshack reference, he too will understand).

Last, but certainly not least (I could go on forever but he is a man of little words), CeeLo recently showed his patriotism by wearing one of the most interesting, yet beautifully, glorious garments I've seen in while. Just one more thing we have in common  - -that great American pride of wearing our red, white, and blue. See for yourself. Nicely done future B.F.F. Good Work. Just as random as this post.

Don't Eat Food Shaped Like...

I went to the mall today to find a few things that I "needed" and striking out on all them led to me eating lunch in the Food Court. I went to Sbarro's, got a slice of cheese pizza, a breakstick, and a medium drink, a #1 if you will. A typical food court meal. Because it was pizza, when asked "for here or to go", I said "for here". I sat down at a table facing the rest of the food court for some good people watching and instead, experienced something new, awkward, and most definitely creepy.....turns out, I was the one being 'watched'. Taking my second bite of my breadstick, I look up, and to my surprise the gentlemen weirdo across from me was taking my picture with his iPhone. I wanted to give the guy the benefit of the doubt, but when the flash went off and he chuckled, I knew exactly what he was doing. Lets just say, I didn't eat another bite of that breadstick (I found this picture online, very similar to my meal so you could really get a feel of what these breadsticks looked like. Use your imagination). I was about to get up and switch tables when two ladies sat down at the opposite end of my 6 person table. I didn't want them to think it was because of them so I stayed and made awkward eye contact with Sir Creeps-A-Lot multiple times throughout my meal. I did what I know best, and tweeted about my situation.

Within moments I got several responses, assuming from my #whatdoido question. One being from my friend Nat, who proposed the idea of taking a picture of him in return. So....awkwardly....I did. I thought about posting the picture on here. Then I thought, no that's terrible. Turns out Nat was kidding....only I found that out after I actually took the picture when he said I was just as bad. Which then made me feel like the creep. That is until someone at work told me I was probably now on the Internet somewhere (Creeper: 2, Me: 1). Great. After telling my tale to another friend, she replied with "Wait, is the awkward, creepy part that you were eating at the food court in the mall or that he took the picture". So now I'm the weirdo?! Wonderful.

Moral of the story. Don't eat breadsticks in public, specifically the mall food court.

Port-O-Oh-NO!

My random thought of the week.

We all have a biggest fear. Some people are afraid of public speaking, some are afraid of spiders, maybe yours is being afraid of someone hiding behind your shower curtain when you arrive home ready to attack (we’ve all been there, don’t deny it)…..all respectable fears.  Mine however, I realized last week. My biggest fear, bigger than a man behind my shower curtain, is being in a Port-O-Potty and it getting pushed over. Can you even imagine? I don’t care if it’s a fresh, 8am john that no one at the tailgate has used yet, I still can’t even imagine how terrible that would be! To realize this fear of mine, I wasn’t even close to living it. Thank God! But instead was in the middle “stall” of a row of about 5 port-o-potties at a recent Clemson game. Apparently the gentleman next to me was extremely intoxicated, which led to him banging around, possibly losing his footing. Who knows but with every action, there is a reaction, and mine was shear panic. As I’m hovering over the extremely used commode after a large Clemson victory and hot day, I couldn’t wait to get out of there. The wall to the left of me shook like an earthquake and I heard the line of people laughing….which made me think some drunk idiot was about to be hilarious (or so he thought) and push me over. Immediately my imagination got the best of me. I don’t think I’ve ever peed so fast in my life and got the hell out of there. Even though nothing actually happened the embarrassment on my face as I opened the door to come out, probably had the line curious as to what just happened in my own. Which obviously made me even more embarrassed, as I quickly walked away. I wanted to share my thoughts of terror, but went on my way, and back to my tailgate. As every social drinker knows, once you “break the seal” you have to use the restroom quite often during a day of drinking. So this wasn’t going to be my last visit to a possible nightmare. I never have been the girl who needs a friend to go with her to the bathroom, nor have I ever wanted to be, but perhaps now that I am afraid of what could be, I will have to start. I don’t know what would be worse; the actual act of being in there while pushed over, or having to come out looking like a smurf who just completed a mud run. So gross. I’d imagine at this point that while reading this, your face has scrunched, your eyebrows turned in, and your mouth is showing a few teeth in a grin of “eek!”…….so just remember there are worse things that can happen to you than needing to kill a spider, or come home to a dark house.  You could be pushed over in a port-o-potty. I think that wins.

Color me crazy

I'm gonna start with, I do not do drugs. The D.A.R.E. program worked for me....and I say that because I was asked recently if I was on them. I have this theory, and you may have to use your imagination on this, so just go with it, but it's something I've told a few people about and I've gotten all parts of the spectrum. A few agree and say, yea I can see that, and I've gotten the - you make no sense - response. I think I've really got something here. Ok here we go.

It's about the perception of color. With the exception of those who may be color blind, we all  know our colors. Red from green, green from blue, our yellows, orange, etc. But what IF we all know the name of the color, versus what color we are actually seeing. What?!?! Confused yet? Ok here is how I explain my sober self.

When you are little we all see a color block. For the sake of the argument lets say that this block is orange (Or so you think). The teacher tells you 'this is orange', so you relate what you are seeing with the name - orange. And so on and so on for all the colors, "this is blue", "this is called red", etc. BUT WHAT IF what you are seeing isn't the same, such as the same color. For example, what if my orange is really your red, or even your green? This is where I lose people. Follow me if you can. What if we see things entirely differently but when we are taught what certain colors are called, we all brand them as the same title. Their color title, in this case. So when I see my green, it is really your orange, but we call it the same thing because its always been that color title. We will NEVER know the difference. Recently my argument was attempted to be crushed saying that Orange Juice will never be green, and it will always remain orange. I get it, I see your argument. However, we will never know that we don't see things differently. Right? I have tried to see the other side of the coin so that my theory could be squashed, but no one has given me enough to disbelieve my theory. The only thing I question is the color of food....but again, we wouldn't know the difference because it has always been called and perceived the same. My other argument was that we all see each other differently. Hence attraction. So why wouldn't it be the same for color? We all have our favorite colors....think about it. Stretch your mind, I promise I'm not crazy. A little weird possibly, but a few have agreed with me, and as far as I know they weren't high either. Read again at 4:20 if that helps. Ta ta.

USA! USA! USA!

30 days until the Olympics and if you're anything like me (A proud American) then you have been watching the Olympic Trials on NBC. They are amazing, and I have a confession. I tear up almost every time someone qualifies, and I have already begun to yell at the television during the swimming trials. I am sure they are tears of happiness, because sometimes chills come with them, but I think it's also a little bit of jealousy. You best believe that if I went to the Olympics as a competitor I, immidiately following the games, would get those Olympic rings tattood on my body. What an accomplishment. The Olympics, and really all things red, white, and blue excite me. Nothing makes me happier than a loud U-S-A chant started randomly in the middle of a bar (or grocery store....still waiting for that to happen - - here's hopeing 2012 could be my year). With the 4th of July right around the corner (my favorite holiday of them all, even before Christmas and Thanksgiving) I'm starting to think about plans. It's important to not build up the holiday like New Year's normally is. But this year I have my eyes set on Beer Olympics for my day off. Only the switch-up....you have to be America. Everyone. No excuses. If I don't see a bald eagle, or some stars and stripes I could be majorly dissapointed in my friends. I'll even settle for some NASCAR gear.....maybe. I love America though....and the Olympics. My family is no different. Theme parties seem to pop up randomly at our family beach vacations, and 2 years ago we decided one afternoon to meet back at the beach for family Olympics. It's amazing what you can find at a tourist shop like WINGS. I, of course, had my sights set on being USA. All agreed to it.

But what I am really excited about is London and watching the hotness of Ryan Lochte. Ladies (and gents I would even imagine), you know what I am talking about. This good looking, tan ab'd fella, is one swift swimmer and one reason to cheer on the grand 'ol flag and the U.S. of A. Beating Michael Phelps in recent trial events, I hope he brings home a gold

medal or two. Phelps has said this is his last set of Olympic games and I think going into them with already 14 career medals is a good start. I think Ryan should just get a medal on how striking his physique is. Just saying. Anybody else see a little Channing Tatum in him? Gorgeous. Another exciting event to watch (my opinion of course) is diving. 2 brothers were in the trials together recently, 1 made it, 1 didn't. Thousandths of a point seperated 1 from going to London and the other staying at home hoping for another chance in 4 years. See where the tears can come from? Amazing. I wouldn't say I'm "swimming" in the dough, but every year I donate $20 to the
US Olympic Committee. If you love America as much as I do, I would highly recommend you doing the same. They hook you up with USA paraphanalia, and you're helping them out. I recently received a bad ass USA Olympic ring jacket. Not pictured on the left - - that was a gem I found in WINGS. The jacket they sent me was navy blue, with a classy upper left chest embroidered logo of the Olympic rings with USA above it - both in white. I have also recieved a giant Team USA flag, and a car sticker in a smaller version, to name a few. Best donation I have ever made. Hit 'em up. Follow the games. And please, feel free to start a U-S-A chant whenever and wherever you can. Extra points for grocery stores.

Give me some mushrooms

I work on Woodruff Road. A road that if you never had to go near it, you wouldn't. A road where an average lunch trip around the corner, takes no less than 20 minutes to get to. A Christmas holiday nightmare, and a connector to major highway 85. I hop on 85 for a brief couple miles to get to my exit on my trip to and from work everyday. Yesterday I got stuck behind the slowest batch of drivers I have ever witnessed and it got me thinking. As I turned towards the on ramp to 85 I suddenly wished I saw these on the road....minus
the biker of course. No offense to any hard core bikers, but "Share the road" goes to you, too. Anyway, I wanted it to be like in the days of Super Nintendo where you drive over them and it shoots you into the sky or right past your opponent (which at that moment was a girl named Natasha. I know this because it was written in stickers all over her back windshield). If the speed limit is 55, please don't go 25 down the on ramp in hopes that you won't get hit by an on-coming tractor trailer while texting, and smoking a cigarette with the windows up, all at the same time. Natasha seemed to be a real multi-tasker. Good for her. At this point I was either hoping to run onto giant yellow booster lines or find a mushroom, or perhaps the best part of the child hood game....the yellow question marked boxes. Even though it never failed, I'd always get a worthless green shell. Children of the 80's/90's you know what I mean. You'd always want a red shell, a mushroom, or a lightning bolt to make everyone

around you smaller so you could run them over. I am not a viloent driver, however I do consider my driving agressive...and that's in the best way possible. A high school friend always told my mother to 'drive fast and to take chances'. And in the Hennessey family with our somewhat "out dated" vehicles, with the occassional questionable breaklines, green means go, red means stop, and yellow means floor it! I drove an old school Volvo stationwagon in college and you just learn to take your chances...driving it sometimes was the risk in itself. I personally think it has made me a better driver. Natasha and her out dated piece, not so much.

I got a fever...

...Bieber fever. And it's not going away. Justin Bieber's new album, "Believe", dropped yesterday and its pretty good. Very Justin Timberlake, but still very Bieber. Which is good since Justin Timberlake forgot he had a music career. At least we still have one of them.

I have made many of my friends "Beliebers" due to the amazing, entertaining, and most importantly informational documentary, "Never Say Never", and I would like to make you one, too. Here is how. Most people think Justin Bieber is a teen heart throb and nothing more. But did you know JB is fluent in French, plays the guitar, piano, drums, and is a killer dancer? Not only that, but he's been able to play since he was a toddler. I can't express to you enough the respect you will gain for this kid after watching the documentary. I will even let you borrow it. You don't have to tell anyone you are watching it, just watch it. I made my sister, Lindsay, into a Belieber during her visit to Greenville. She was extremely hesitant, but 10 minutes in, she silenced her phone so she couldn't be interrupted. My friend Monica and I have a crush on this young talent and we made her husband Mike watch. I really thought he would still tear it to shreds at the end of the hour documentary because of his prior feelings towards the Biebs, but even he, a non-fan, said "it wasn't bad" and that he didn't know 'he did all that stuff'. I'm telling you people, there is something about the Biebs.

My friend Pam and I got to go to his concert when touring through Greenville. Never have I ever heard screams as loud as this arena got. I can't even explain the octave the sound reached. Sean Kingston opened for Justin, and Pam and I didn't really know what to expect, but we knew we'd at least enjoy it. We went in, found our beer guy, got 2 a piece, and with just one phrase, turned into a 15 year old screaming girl. Sean Kingston said, "Who here.....knows Nicki Minaj?" With that, we of course thought she was surprising Greenville with a visit, so when he again said "I said...who here....knows....Nicki! Minaj!?", Pam grabbed my arm and we were like "OMG she's herrrreeee!!!". We fit right in. Of course, she then appeared on a digital screen over head and was not there, not even close, but it got us started. Let me tell you that Justin Bieber knows how to get those little girls (and I guess, Pam, Monica, and I) going. Intro-ing his songs with lines such as "Are there any lonely girls out there?" (the Song, "One Less Lonely Girl"), etc. He really thinks he's something, and as he should. If you watch the Today show on NBC in the mornings, you recently saw the effect he has on cities. It's incredible. Watch "Never Say Never". You don't have to like him, but I promise it will change your mind about him, one way or another.
One thing that probably won't change though......his body that resembles that of Elliot from the great American classic movie, E.T. Sorry Biebs but your skinny little bod will be like that for a while. He can look at the bright side though, more than half is fan base has probably never seen or heard of the 1982 movie.

We're all gonna laugh at you

I couldn't help but share this. Thanks to my friend, Taylor, I had a nice little chuckle during lunch. I find such fascination in the fact that humans find great humor in those that fall, get hurt, or are embarrassed easily. Sense of humor is one of the finest traits a person can have. If you can't laugh at yourself, you're in big trouble. I find myself to be incredibly sarcastic, and sometimes borderline inappropriate with my humor. I'd like to attribute that to my father. He is hilarious and when in a room full of people, is normally the one cutting the jokes, doing the impressions, and having the crowd rolling. I know he will enjoy this.

RIP Soggy Shoes

The unthinkable happened…..almost 2 months ago. And I am just now coming to terms that what I thought I saw is actually true. Soggy Shoes is dead. My homeless man is no longer loitering the overpasses of Greenville, but free loading the heavens above.

Soggy Shoes got struck by a car. My homeless man seemed to be trying to crossover the street when a car merging onto hwy 385, clipped him. At first I couldn’t believe my eyes and didn’t want to believe it was him, but as I approached the man laying in the fetal position on the side of the highway with people standing all around on their cell phones, I took a good look and felt strongly it was him. Long, grey beard, same army green jacket, and of course most likely what once was a pair of soggy shoes. Plus, I thought I saw that wrinkly memorable face. You don’t get hugged and told ‘God bless you’ by a damp stranger and forget them. I didn’t want to believe it because he didn’t seemed to be carrying the umbrella I once gave him either, but let’s be honest - - while seeing someone get struck by a car may be awful with a slight slip of “holy shit” from the lips, it also is something only a few may actually see in a lifetime. It was not pleasant, but it could have been worse. Much worse of a hit for sure, but it still didn't look optimistic….Though emotionally come to think of it, he was headed towards the movie theatre. The exact theatre that I gave him several left over movie passes, too. Naturally I thought oh dear, I hope this wasn't my fault. The irony was even worse, I gave him tickets to a movie called: Gone. The plot wasn't ironic, but the title hit the nail on the head. I immediately called my mother with whom I’ve discussed this homeless man several times - - first name: Soggy, last name: Shoes. Our conversation went something like this.

Mom, Oh my god, I think I just saw Soggy Shoes get hit by a car

What?

My homeless man, Soggy Shoes, I’m almost positive I just saw him get clipped. He’s laying there next to a mini-van on the side of 385 and Woodruff

How did it happen?

He was trying to cross the road and just got hit

How do you know it was him?

I don’t, it just looks a lot like him and this was his territory. An ambulance just arrived.

Well, what are you gonna do?

(Which probably meant, why did you call me? What am I supposed to do?)

What do you mean?

Does he look dead?

I don’t know he’s not in the ambulance, but he’s definitely not moving. I’m passing them now

Well why don’t you go to the hospital

…….long pause…..is she serious? I couldn’t help but start to laugh at the situation. Yes, I am a horrible human being……

And do what mom? I don’t even know his name, what do I say, “um excuse me nurse, did a homeless man just get hit by a car?”

(at this point I think we are both laughing...the apple doesn't fall far from the tree)

Well, I can’t imagine a lot of homeless people all being just hit by a car on the same day, just go in and ask

And then what? Say, I don’t know his name but I gave him an umbrella once and some free food, but we are kind of friends because I waived to him a lot. Can I sit with him? Then get a no, he’s dead, or yea follow me. And then what? I’m either planning my best homeless friends funeral to which I’d say Dear Friends of Soggy Shoes….or I’m left with a homeless man who needs more help. And I’d probably end up trying to give it to him.

Yea. Yea, I guess that is a little odd.

I’m not gonna lie, I thought about it but that was a moment when I decided I got a little too into this unspoken friendship between me and Soggy Shoes. I have waited 2 months. His corner has been since taken over and I haven’t seen him once. RIP Soggy Shoes. May their continue to be Hardee’s in Heaven and may your tooth forever let you chew.  

*For the story of Soggy Shoes, click HERE*