I had several requests this week to write a column addressing the issue of bullying, since we've recently had a local tragedy in which bullying has been indicated. Today, as I'm writing, it's the 62nd birthday of Ruby Bridges. As a lifelong reader, lover of history, and public school student I'm not sure how this passed me by, but I wasn't aware of Ruby's actual name or her role in our society's development until I was already an adult. ...

I'm starting to feel that because I am fairly open-minded, I really don't fit in anywhere in today's society. I mean really, if the goal of both of our country's major political parties was to make an entire generation feel disenfranchised, they have succeeded with flying colors. Come on, guys. It's time to do better...

Well, what's about to happen here is a first for me. I have always withheld my personal opinion on local issues, for several good reasons. But we have an issue going on right now that has prompted me to break my own rule. Next week, I believe on Tuesday, a hearing will be held to determine whether or not a county-wide election planned for Aug. 9 will be allowed to go forward...

So I just came back from a lovely ten day vacation down South to my homelands, and if there is any food left in the state of Louisiana I will be surprised. I don't mention it much because I've lived in Arkansas for so long, and my accent doesn't really indicate it, but I come from a long line of good old fashioned Louisiana French Cajuns. ...

So, last week, I was outsmarted by a turtle. A common red slider turtle, to be exact and dependent on Google. If you follow me anywhere on The Internets you'll know that two weeks ago, I was given a turtle to babysit. I mean, that's what I was told...but I was pretty sure it was going to be more like one of those "rent to own" kind of situations...

Warning: This column is going to be very personal, and has been tough for me to write. I mostly stick to the surface these days, for plenty of good reasons, but sometimes I feel that I've been gifted with a certain hard circumstance in order to share it with and encourage others who may feel lost in their struggle. ...

And because I've been really serious up in here for quite a while and frankly my brain and my heart need a break, I present you with...the first Random List of 2016. Welcome back, old friend. -- I am officially now a person who makes smoothies for myself every day. ...

So, I kept quiet about it because it was around Mother's Day and I didn't want anything to interfere with all the great stuff we had going on then, but last Friday was my birthday. I am now 32, and I usually take some time to reflect on the changes another year has brought...

Today I have done something I absolutely never do, and tried four or five times to get a first sentence on the screen for this column - but I just can't do it the right way. My trusty words are failing me, because you guys...my friends, my readers, my tribe...have blown my mind over the past few weeks...

So you guys know how I'm always harping on about how love is the answer to just about everything? How love always wins, drives away fear, changes lives? That hasn't changed. It always has and it always will. And I have to say that right now I'm feeling fairly heartbroken over the behavior of some of my fellow people of faith...

Okay, so if you guys thought I was going to leave you alone about my Single Mom Giveaway...you were WRONG. Nominations have been rolling in, and ya'll. My mama heart can't take it. So what I'm going to do is share parts of some of these emails with you. ...

Ya'll. I am so excited about what I'm getting ready to tell you that I have actually been jumping up and down a little bit. In my office. Alone. I don't jump in public. It's just not something I want others to see if you know what I mean. But I digress...

I've had to do a lot of traveling to the big city lately for doctor's visits, like often often often, and to console myself I usually try and take a little side trip to a restaurant I like or a new shop or something along the way, because at least then the trip wasn't just a total needle-filled drag. I mean yes, there may have been medical unpleasantness, but if there is also some kind of fancy smoothie then I'm good to go...

I have never been one to see tons of things in my life about which to gloat..except for this one thing (okay and some other things too, but there's only this one that I want to talk about right now)...how well my kid has slept since she was born. It took hard work from pretty much the day we brought her home from the hospital, but within a few months she was sleeping like a champ for eight solid hours, and then 12...

Dear Zoe Faith, Today you turn two years old, and you are at the same time both so big and so small that I can't wrap my brain around it - just depends on the lenses I'm viewing you through at the time. For nine months two years ago, I carried you. I was not, as our family and friends will likely tell you one day, the kind of woman who carried a baby with the most ease or grace, but I never regretted one nausea-filled day...

I know, I know, January of 2016 is practically over, but I haven't really taken the opportunity to reflect on paper regarding what 2015 said to me as a whole. I think the truth is I was avoiding it, because it all just seems like...man, so MUCH back there. But, we have to know where we were to know where we're going, right? Or something like that...

Because you guys are my friends and I love you, I hope you never have to deal more than once in your life with the hellish experience that is our national air travel system during bad weather. My new year wish for you, in fact, includes a list of several experiences that I sincerely hope you never, EVER have while just trying to get somewhere to see your grandparents or cousins or ex-roommate's dog or something. ...

As is traditional around here (and by "in here" I mean in my brain) I like to do a little roundup of Christmas music - the good, the bad, the really really terrible, the stuff that makes you cry. I find that if I'm having a little trouble getting into the Christmas Spirit it helps quite a lot to kind of force things by playing Christmas music all the time - and thanks to the magic of Pandora I can make that happen pretty much anywhere I go. ...

I've been making a concerted effort over the past few months to return to my roots in lots of ways, but one that has been the easiest to achieve (because it's fairly surface level, I guess) is to once again surround myself with books. Over the past year, I've become much more of a TV person than I used to be (okay, Netflix person, but it's all the same) and this is mainly because at the end of the day I am tired. ...

I never used to consider myself a feminist. As a teenager full of reasons why I was SO SMART, and then as a young woman determined to be different from everyone for all the wrong reasons, I thought the whole idea of feminism was outdated and cliche and only meant for angry man-eating types. I thought that it was the 2000's, for pete's sake, and everyone should just stop complaining about how they didn't have equality and get out there and just DO for themselves, already...

Here's what happened at my house a few nights ago: 8:30 p.m. - Arrive home, unload copious amounts of stuff that I always have for no explainable reason 8:35 p.m. - Give child her nightly cup of milk, without which she would probably think the world has ended. Put chicken in the crock pot for this week's lunch while she drinks it and drags her teddy bear around the living room...

It's been a while since I've written much in depth about my personal journey. There are several reasons for that, but the main one is that I've been focusing on building a newly balanced life, and there isn't really very much that's interesting, helpful, or even therapeutic about that - it's just something that happens slowly and quietly...

So, it's Halloween again and I really have nothing to say about that at all except DEAR MERCIFUL HEAVENS can we please stop decorating everything with SPIDERS. And dead bodies. And blood and guts. And all manner of things that I just cannot imagine a mentally healthy person enjoying in any way. ...

I've been asked often enough how I come up with the stories that I tell you guys in this little space, and I wish I had a more interesting answer than the true one - stuff just happens to me. It may also be that I am a tad dramatic and have a slight knack for exaggeration and like to tell stories, but the bottom line is, I am just one of those people. ...

I've been asked often enough how I come up with the stories that I tell you guys in this little space, and I wish I had a more interesting answer than the true one - stuff just happens to me. It may also be that I am a tad dramatic and have a slight knack for exaggeration and like to tell stories, but the bottom line is, I am just one of those people. ...

I had the pleasure this week of attending a fundraising benefit for Blytheville's pregnancy crisis center, Acts of Hope. And now I'm going to shamelessly pitch for them because they are exactly the kind of thing our community desperately needs. I'm always harping on and on about how we all just need love, and that we need to see each other with the eyes of love and act towards each other with love in our thoughts and our hands, and how that is the only thing that will ever really heal our broken society. ...

When I became a parent, there were a lot of things that I had to just step right off of my high horse about - because as we've all observed, it's people who have never had children who have the MOST EXPERT knowledge on how to raise kids. Because I definitely used to be one of these people (I kept my opinions mostly to myself, but boy did I have them)...well, let's just say reality brought me right on up to speed as soon as my daughter was born...

Truth-telling isn't always easy. Sometimes it goes against the grain that runs deep in all of us, the one that says we have to present only our best selves to the world, and never let them see our hurt or scars or flaws or general ugliness. I'm not sure if that grain is one that just grows naturally in us humans, or if it's the result of generations and generations of cultural training and shaming, but no matter. It's there, and it's strong, baby...

When I was a junior in high school, my friends and I walked into the main hallway from lunch one day and found the place covered in blood. No, seriously. It was everywhere, splattered on the doors, the rugs, pooled up in huge puddles on the floor. While we'd been in the cafeteria, one of our classmates had stabbed one of our other classmates...

A couple of weeks ago, I fell victim to basically every bleeding-heart-woman cliche and attempted to rescue a baby bird. I mean, I would hope that there are men out there in the world somewhere who would go out of their way to try and ease the suffering of an obviously dying baby bird, but I'm pretty sure I haven't met one. I think you have to be a mother for those kinds of things to pull at your heartstrings...

Noted political scientist and Brookings Institution fellow Thomas E. Mann once said that American politics are characterized by a decline in variety of competition and "a growing ideological polarization between the two major political parties." It has been interesting to note commentary by modern talking heads on this topic, which any average voter or consumer with a modicum of common sense could notice themselves - the American public is becoming increasingly and more passionately divided on seemingly every major issue.. ...

Okay, so I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that if you've never found yourself kneeling in front of a bathtub at 7 a.m. on a Sunday, scooping out unbelievable amounts of toddler poo...well, you're not me. I was going to say "you're not a parent," but I'm sure there are plenty of you out there who've managed to raise children and also avoid this type of situation. Maybe you should teach a class. Call me...

I read once that one of the main strengths of the Jewish faith is putting something tangible to nearly inexpressible feelings. Creating rituals to go along with not only all of life's most impacting events, but also with certain emotions and personal seasons of life...

I've always considered myself a student, whether I'm actually attending school or not. Life has things to teach us, and let me just tell you my friends, there is nothing like motherhood to teach you a thing or two. Mainly how to avoid catastrophe at all times of the day and night, but other things too...

At every single birthday since I was big enough to read, there would be a card from my dad, with all the schmoozy parts underlined and circled and decorated with exclamation points, and in it he would always write that he knew I would do great things in life, and he would always be in the crowd cheering me on. Every year...

5:30 - 6:30 a.m. - Wake up and start making noise. Toddlers, this is VERY IMPORTANT. You're going to get to spend this whole day with your Mommy and you have start on the right track; if you let her sleep past 6:30, she will think that you do not love her. It doesn't matter if she begs and pleads with you to sleep later, she doesn't really mean it. She needs to know that you need her. Early. The earlier the better...

I believe, as I've said here before, in life as a seasonal experience. There are seasons of joy and seasons of sorrow, seasons of productivity and seasons of forced idleness, seasons when it feels like everything withers and dies on the vine...and then there seasons of new life, when everything is growing, adapting, moving, turning on a dime, and changing before your eyes. ...

I'm equal parts happy and sad today, friends. As many of you will already have learned, the CN's esteemed editor, Andy Weld, is leaving the newspaper business to pursue a new career path.

So I was once mistaken for a homeless person in New York's Grand Central Station.

I talk a lot these days about my own life's journey and re-discovering myself and I know it's all just a little bit too "Eat, Pray, Love" sometimes ... but there's one aspect of this journey I haven't covered yet.

I know it's Mother's Day weekend, and I should be talking about my mother, but I've done that before and I'm sure I will do it again. And I don't like to follow rules about ... anything.

Apparently if you're going to ride a green plastic rocking horse, it simply cannot be done without one stuffed bunny shoved behind you in the seat and another in one hand.

As we approach the middle of this year, I've been taking a little time to evaluate what's going on both inside my head and out.

So about three weeks ago, I decided to bite the proverbial bullet and actually start exercising on a regular basis again.

So in the past two weeks I've demonstrated an impressive ability for getting flat tires. And I don't mean just kind of flat, or low, or hey-look-your-tire-needs-some-air. I mean FLAT. As in, not driving anywhere at all. Last week I had a flat in front of the beauty shop and this week I had one in front of the dollar store, and if the fact that I hang out at those two places doesn't give away that I'm a woman living in a small southern town, then I don't know what does...

Today I don't have a funny story for you, or even a sad story, or a weird list. Today, I have what I guess you could call a public thank-you card. Because there are some people who have quite literally been saving my life for the last six months, and I want them to know that I realize that.

So you know how whenever you get sick and go to the doctor and are given antibiotics, they tell you to make sure and finish ALL the medicine, whether you're feeling better or not, and how it's VERY important to finish ALL the medicine?

Zoe and I both started off this week with different brands of sickness, and I have to say that neither of us are at our best while on antibiotics.

"Things That Shouldn't Impress Anyone," and "Things That Should Impress Everyone"

So Thursday was a first, at least in the nearly five years that I've been doing this job ... a snow day for the CN. We still managed to get some things posted on the website, but the office was closed and everyone got to stay home.

There's a florescent light directly over my desk here in the CN office that has never worked. At least not as long as I've been sitting at this desk.

Raise your hand if you've ever fallen down a flight of stairs and hit your head on a steel door. OK, now raise your hand if you've ever fallen down a flight of stairs and hit your head on a steel door on the first day of a huge family vacation to Disney World.

Today is my precious little girl's first birthday. Tomorrow will be crazy because I have a party planned that is way too elaborate for a 1-year-old ... exactly the kind of party I used to scoff at before I had a kid of my own.

When I was 6 years old, my brother snuck home a book of scary stories to read in bed at night. This was strictly forbidden by my parents, so I was sworn to secrecy.

So for the last month or so, my house has been a constant flurry of repainting, redecorating, rearranging, throwing out, boxing up and general changing of everything.

Disclaimer: I promise, friends, to not allow this to become "Shannon's Divorce Column." I will try to pepper in more of my normal stuff here and there; that being said, this is where I am right now and what I'm going through is a life-altering event.

Just in case you happen to find yourself, suddenly and unexpectedly, the single working mom of a baby -- some thoughts:

It's Christmas night as I stare at my keyboard, and I've put this off as long as I can but there's just no easy or nice way to say it.

For Zoe's first Christmas, we hit the road. She and I and my parents came to Nashville to celebrate this year instead of staying at home.

So I took a highly technical poll from a large selection of the area's population, and came up with the definitive ranking of best Christmas songs.

So it's my first Christmas as a mommy, and of course I'm going to go ahead and turn that into the perfect opportunity to have a small-scale philosophical crisis.

Today, as proof that I do occasionally think about serious things and not just how many zombies I could run down in my Jeep should the necessity arise, I'd like to offer some musings on what I do for a living.

A couple of weeks ago, I took the plunge and did one of the most scary things a person can do ... I took my baby on a plane trip.

Well, friends, I have officially one internal organ less than I did the last time you heard from me.

So lately, I've been dealing with some Things. I'm making Things a proper noun here, because I don't want to describe them any more than that, and I think that simply by looking at that big, capital "T" you can all understand what I mean when I say I've been dealing with some Things.

In case you've recently returned from Mars or something and haven't noticed, we have an election coming up around here.

I have a little list running in the back of my mind, of all the things about me that I thought would magically change once I became a mom.

There's no way to sugarcoat this: I've spent the week wading knee-deep through the muck of a rape trial. All day, every day.

The early part of my week was marred by a few terror-filled days in which I believed I was going to have to go to the dentist.

So exactly a week ago today, I was sitting on the ground in a parking lot in St. Louis, smeared with poop and tears.

When my family first moved into town, I was 6, just about to start first grade. At some point (and honestly I can't remember if this happened in the first or third grade -- it's all a blur), my mom decided that I needed to make some nice, wholesome friends and enrolled me in the Girl Scouts.

Yesterday, my little girl peed all over my hands while I was changing her. And you know what I did? Nothing.

So at the beginning of this week, I decided to swear off sugar. Since then, I've had a slice of lemon ice box pie and also shared a pint of peach cobbler ice cream with The Police. Oh, and a sweet tea from Sonic. As you can see, it's going very well. Sugar is practically a thing of the past...

So mostly what I do around here (and by around here I mean in this column) is funny. Maybe not knee-slapping funny, but sort of chuckle funny, observations-about-life kind of funny, and wow-so-many-strange-things-happen-to-that-rather-odd-girl-kind-of funny.

So owning a home is a great thing, right? You get to put your money into something that's actually yours every month, and you're not just throwing it down the endless black hole that is rent, and plus the American Dream and picket fences and puppies and apple pie and blah blah blah.

When I was growing up, there were things about my mom which had me continually perplexed. And I don't mean things like refusing to let me get dreadlocks or subsist entirely off of bean burritos from Taco Bell.

Time for a real life update from the Harris house. We had our perfect little cocoon of a family life shaken up a bit a few weeks ago.

It's currently the end of the week, and I have to tell you -- it's been a humdinger. Raise your hand if you've ever taken a look around one day, felt that you are incredibly tired and tried to figure out why, then realized you have not had an evening, afternoon or even hour or two free since you're not sure when.

So, The Police and I joined the rest of my family last week on what was our first Griswold-style vacation since Zoe arrived.

I have a little morning routine that I follow quite strictly, once I get to the office each day. It helps me get my brain into gear and my eyes fully opened, because I just never have been one of those people who is productive in the first part of the day.

Buckle your seat belts, friends, while I follow a long and convoluted train of thought to the point I'm trying to make today.

A first for me and Zoe is officially on the books now: The Police and my parents went out of town for five days, and she and I fended for ourselves.

I talk (or write) a lot about keeping it real, and I try, but I think every now and then we just need to break it on down a little further.

So we're attempting to teach Zoe sign language. I realize that if you've never heard of this before, it probably sounds completely insane, but give it a Google. Baby sign language is a real thing, and a really cool thing at that. Basically the idea is that babies, starting at around four months old or so and stretching until they actually begin to speak coherently, are able to understand a lot more than you think they do about the world around them...

I want to talk about my refrigerator. I'll wait while mostly everyone turns the page or clicks away ...

Raise your hand if you've ever had an experience not turn out the way you'd pictured it. Now raise your other hand if that experience had to do with kids in some way.

I'm sitting in the waiting room at the vet's office with my littlest dog, Ellie. Ellie has grown some weird and disturbing-looking knot on the top of her head, and while it doesn't seem to bother her in the least, it's really creeping me out.

The Police and I went out to lunch last Sunday with two good couple friends, and along in tow were six children under the age of five. Six. Six. And had our full crew been there (we were missing one couple), it would have been seven. Now, I don't know if you have ever tried to eat a meal in a restaurant while surrounded by SIX kids under the age of five, but wow. ...

In my memory so far, Mother's Day has always been a time of flowers and pretty cards and gift certificates for manicures and all kinds of woman-y stuff, and telling my mom thanks for always being there. And at the time, I meant it. I really did. But I had no idea. I just had no earthly idea what I was talking about...

So I'm turning 30 in a few days (more on that later) and am currently experiencing a small existential crisis (more on that later, too).

Being a new mom brings around a lot of food for thought, a lot of dreaming and a lot of concern. This beautiful daughter that I have now will need a lot of things over the course of her life, and I want so much for her, but there's one thing I want more than anything else.

So this week started out with a Monday morning 40-minute Search Frantically For The Car Keys session. Because why not, am I right?

Well hi there. Not like it's any big deal or anything, but I did kind of, you know, have a baby a few months ago, and this is my first week back on the job, and it's all a little overwhelming.

At 38 weeks, my child-bearing journey is coming to an end, with the biggest and most important journey of my life about to start ... and on that note, some recollections ...

I'd like to preface my actual content this week with a little update: My doctor told me yesterday that we may be getting to meet our little girl a week or two early, at which point all the other thoughts I've ever had basically left my head for good.

I'd just like all of you to know how much mental anguish sometimes goes into putting this little bit of writing together every week, and how much I love you because I keep pushing myself to do it because what I really love is the interaction with people that it produces.

Let me just tell you something. If you've never tried to travel by air while 8 months pregnant ... well, just don't do it. If you have, can we start some kind of support group? I'll bring the cookies.

Know how it feels to discover something about yourself that surprises you? I'm not talking about deep and meaningful things, I'm talking about things like realizing that although you've looked down on country music with scorn your whole life, all of a sudden it makes you tap your foot.

I mentioned this briefly a few weeks ago, but for those of you who missed it, I've been homebound for about three weeks now, per doctor's orders.

So this weekend wrapped up Black Friday and officially kicks off the Christmas season (for those of us who had the self-restraint to wait, that is).

Raise your hand if you love having your picture taken. Yeah, I didn't think so. Neither do I.

I'm sharing something with you this week that I've been holding on to for a while. Well, actually, only since October, so I'm not sure whether or not that qualifies as a while.

I have a confession to make, friends. Even though it's November and the season of thankfulness and everyone and their brother is using social media to share all the things they're grateful for every single day, I have just not been feeling it.

OK, right now I want to talk about something I've talked to you guys about before. Because apparently, unlike Earnest T. Bass, I DO chew my cabbage twice.

Let's talk about things that are intimidating. Naming your kid, for example. That's intimidating.

So last week, I tripped over a gigantic crack in my living room floor, and now we may just need to burn our house down and start all over. ...I exaggerate, of course, but what I am talking about here is one of those real life home improvement spiral-of-death-and-disaster type situations that we all find ourselves in from time to time. Of course, we were super thrilled that this one occurred when we are less than four months away from bringing a new baby home. Perfect timing. Really...

I'm almost a little surprised to say that as of this weekend, we will be more than halfway through our journey to meet our little girl.

So if you've spent the last week practically anywhere except for maybe living among the penguins in Antarctica, you're aware of the fact that our country is currently experiencing a governmental shutdown.

So I have a few pregnancy-related observations. Basically, I've summed them up thusly -- being pregnant seems to be a lot like getting old.

This week, I decided to revive an old trend started up by a friend of mine several years ago. He called it "No Negativity Now," and it means that you take a pledge to stop all negative words coming out of your mouth for 30 days.

As I write this, friends, we are mere days away from a momentous event -- The Police and I will find out on Monday whether our new little is a he or a she.

This week, I nearly killed an old friend, using nothing but a container of yogurt. Well, OK, she wasn't nearly killed, but she was nearly very seriously sickened, and it was my fault. To a certain extent.

I'd like to be funny today, friends, but I just can't do it. As everyone local knows, we've spent the last three days at our office up to our necks in the details surrounding the violent death of a beautiful little girl.

So yesterday, I almost blew up my Jeep because I was taking a nap. It's more than a little embarrassing, but hey, if that kind of stuff isn't what this column is for, then I don't know what is.

Now that motherhood is impending for me, I've started wondering what sort of character my child will be, and based on my own childhood history ... I'm a little afraid.

So ... umbrellas. When's the last time you read that exact sentence? Anyone?

So let me tell you why I'm ashamed of myself: If anyone were to ask me how many times I've been to McDonald's for breakfast this week, I would have to tell them ... four.

So, dear friends, I'm having a baby. Bam. Didn't see that one coming, did you? Unless of course you know me from Facebook or The Twitter or real life and have already noticed me throwing up in odd places. But otherwise ... surprise!

I'm a nail biter from way back. Through multiple bouts of recovery and relapse over the past 20 years or so, this is one bad habit I simply cannot break, and I've come to terms with it.

This week, I'm really excited to share something amazing with you guys. My husband recently returned from a 15-day trip to China and India. Seeing the way that so many people who share our planet are forced to live is a life-changing experience.

I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but as a refresher -- I'm from Louisiana. I was born there, lots of my family live there and it's familiar to me.

In a continuation of last week's idea about everyday beauty, a few more moments which caught my notice over the last few days ...

I believe in my bones that there are little, tiny, almost impossible-to-notice moments and things and experiences in life that are left along our personal roadside as gifts -- things that enrich us and make us feel more alive and happy to be part of the world.

So this one time, I lost my Barbie in the lake. Obviously, tragedy ensued. It was weeks ago, and I'm still not over it.

So here's what happened today, you guys. I had this great idea for a column. It was brilliant. Actually, it still is brilliant, just not in the current state in which it exists in my mind.

I'm afraid the birds don't like me. This obviously means that my social anxieties and obsessive need to be liked have reached a whole new level of ridiculous.

Being a columnist of the genre in which I fall (if there is a genre for someone like me) has changed my life in one very interesting way. Sometimes I have bad days. Terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days (name that book).

Today, as proof that I do occasionally think about serious things and not just how many zombies I could run down in my Jeep should the necessity arise, I'd like to offer some musings on what I do for a living. This little collection of thoughts is something I've been working on for a while, mainly because I love this job and at its core, it is a very thought-provoking thing to show up and do every day, and I wanted to share. ...

Let me start off by saying what has to be said: Our country has had a shocking, sad, exhausting and traumatic week.

Yesterday I found a gray hair. I don't know why I'm telling you this, but hey -- I've told you that I once thought I could breathe through my ears, that I fell down in front of the Parthenon, and that I have extremely violent feelings about blue toilet water, and you've stuck with me. So I need to talk about the gray hair.

I have no food in my house. Not that you care, I was just hoping to find someone with whom to commiserate on this issue.

I stabbed myself in the hand with an ink-pen this morning. It's definitely going to leave a mark. Get it? A mark? Da-dum-tsss ...

I believe, dear friends, that spring may finally have sprung. Because of all the flowers blooming, the warmer breezes and the brighter sunshine, I am happy and feel like hugging a tree.

This is one of those times when so much has happened since the last time I sat down to do this column thing that I am completely flummoxed about where to start, what to say and exactly how many details of my recent life might interest you.

OK, guys. As I sit here at this very moment, I only have four more "get-ups" until The Police and I head out for Europe.

Boy, oh boy. Let me just tell you. As I was sitting down today to face a serious case of Ihavenoideawhattowriteabout-itis, I decided to go get some lunch. And things pretty much took care of themselves from there.

Raise your hand if you've read "The Godfather." Now put it back down if you've only seen the movie and you think that's the same thing. Because it's not. While Mario Puzo's epic book is certainly worth an entire column devoted to singing its praises, I have only mentioned it because I want to take an extremely roundabout route to my actual topic. I know you're surprised...

Today I'm going to share with you some information that I've been sitting on for well over a month, which is monumental for me, considering how excited I am about this.

So, I think I have finally decided on a decent New Year's resolution. Hey, it's still January, right? This is not the sort of thing that you should just rush into.

Big news today, friends, big news. We got a new washing machine. I know, I know, the excitement is hard to bear. Take a few deep breaths. I'll wait.

It's a new year, and there are several things I would like to say.

I'm afraid of house fires. I know, I know, saying that you're afraid of house fires is kind of like saying you're afraid of spiders or the apocalypse or Lady Gaga ... everyone is.

Well, boys and girls, it's Christmas time again. Now is the part of the column where we do audience participation: find somebody and give them a Merry Christmas kiss, hug, or polite nod (whichever is appropriate, obviously). I'll wait ...

Today, dear friends, is not a day to be funny. It's a day to ask questions. And to be honest, I feel a bit pretentious by even attempting to address this issue with my own feeble and meandering thoughts.

I came across something last week that piqued my interest: the Proust questionnaire. Marcel Proust was a French and sort of existentially brilliant author, and this set of questions was made famous by the answers he gave to them in the journal of a friend.

Gather 'round, ladies and gentlemen, for an amazing spectacle the likes of which you've never seen.

Happy post-Thanksgiving everybody. I don't know about you, but in spite of the fact that I ate way less this year than I normally do (thanks to the lingering effects of a stomach virus), I still sit here on Friday feeling like one of those people in a Pepto commercial - nausea, heartburn, indigestion, upset stomach...well, you get my drift...

Among other things, I am realizing today, all over again, that life is meant to be enjoyed. And that is in spite of any and all circumstances, both on an individual level and a societal one.

I'm going to step out of character here for a little while, friends. Bear with me. As I've said before, honesty and real-ness are important to me, and life is not always entertaining or amusing. Sometimes it sucks. Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes it takes you by surprise with a gut punch and leaves you gasping for air and wondering what the heck just happened and how you got where you are.

This morning, I had a flat tire. Really flat, as in it had two nails in it plus an extra hole. It was in a thoroughly sad condition. ... Not that I noticed.

Whenever I sit and replay in my mind the events of the past few days in our home, I hear along with it that chicken dance song. You know, the one that always gets used as the soundtrack for blooper reels, and such. Google it before you read this, if you aren't already hearing it in your head. I promise it will enhance the experience...

It's random observation time again. I can hear you cheering now. This time I've used subtitles, because subtitles are fancy.

Today I want to talk about feminism. If this were the keynote address at a conference or a valedictorian's speech, it would begin with the dictionary definition. "Webster's defines feminism as ..."

Hey guys. At this very moment, my system is struggling to digest a ridiculously big lunch, consisting of a lot of sweets. I think this is OK, though, because I had it at a fabulous tea shop and it was called High Tea, which is essentially dainty and ladylike, and masks the fact that I ate like a lumberjack.

This weekend, I'm spending a few days in St. Louis with some family and friends at a conference. At this very moment, I'm sitting in a gigantic stadium with around 20,000 other people, and I'd just like to talk about that.

I hope you never have to stick your arm into the tank of the toilet in the public restroom at a dollar store. Because that would be really, really gross, and you may walk away from the experience feeling as though you'll never be clean again.

It's been a while since I've offered up a "Random List of Observations" column (you're welcome, by the way). But since I'm itching to share how I feel about useless minutiae and I have nothing else to talk about, away we go.

So today, I'm feeling all ... musical. Let me explain. Last week, I surprised The Police with tickets to a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert, scheduled for this weekend. Wife of the Year, right? I know.

8:00 a.m. -- Arrive at work (OK, maybe it was more like 8:15). Sit at desk and keep sunglasses on because the light is hurting your itchy, runny, bloodshot eyes. Stare groggily into space for a few minutes.

The Olympics are over, and I've been left with a huge and gaping hole in my life. For the past two weeks, I have put everything on hold to stay glued to the TV every night until way past my normal granny-ish bedtime.

I've been holding on to today's story for a few weeks, mainly so my brain could have time to process the trauma it incurred. But now I think I'm ready. Hope you guys don't mind me using this public forum as some sort of weird substitute for therapy. Thanks.

I'd like to preface this list by saying that I think that these disorders can crop up in us all from time to time -- I know I am guilty.

And now, boys and girls, it's time for a fairy tale. Buckle your seat belts for a tale of love and loss, failure and heartbreak, and the triumph of the human spirit.

Warning: if you are squeamish, I recommend that you pretend this column doesn't exist. I tried to tell my mom this story over the phone, and she told me I had to stop talking immediately before she cried or threw up, or something.

I am, good friends, at this very moment, on family vacation. Since none of my family expect me to update them with the news or be witty or interesting if I don't feel like it, today is day one of a 10-day process in which my brain will shut down all non-essential functions.

Greetings, amigos. I've heard some rumors abroad that The Police (who apparently has his own following), has not been featured much in this column as of late, so in response to that, I will focus today's ramblings on him. It's not a hard thing for me to do, since I do sort of still have a giant crush on him. Don't tell. Just pass him my note during math class, okay?...

Last weekend I was feeling under the weather and was obliged to spend the majority of my time on the couch with my good friend, Netflix.

Happy Sunday, peeps -- I hope this beautiful weekend hasn't gone to waste for anyone, and that none of you bit your nails as much as I did this week. I can't help it. In spite of more than 20 years of effort on my mother's part to break me of this habit, some days still just make me bite my nails.

The following is what I would like to call a small town vignette. Please keep in mind that I am not blaming the good people of Walmart for these events, since none of them were really anybody's fault. Except for mine. But that's hardly the point.

Put on your thinking caps, friends -- today I present you with some really intensely researched science. Keep in mind that in my world, science = random observations that are confirmed by the fact that I've experienced them more than once.

I've always been a person who likes to read. Actually that's a bit of an understatement. I've always been a person who likes to obsessively read, is more like it. Luckily, these days, being a nerd isn't so much of a bad thing as it was when I was in high school.

As you read this, friends, it will be my birthday. And yes, you should put down the paper right now and sing Happy Birthday. I expect to hear it reverberating all over town. Also I will welcome cupcakes. Just kidding (not really).

Hey guys. I've decided that this week is confession time, since it's been a while since I've told you anything weird about myself (raise your hand if you think it's only actually been since last week, but play along anyway). For some reason I have a genetic malfunction that fills me with the urge to disclose things about myself that probably no one really cares about. And no, it's not because I'm the baby of my family and I crave attention and validation. Stop analyzing me. Geez...

This week, and for the next few weeks, The Police is at home, on the couch, recovering from knee surgery. Someone who is used to jumping up every morning and going out to get the bad guys is now laid flat, with nothing but Netflix and the kids who play basketball next door to amuse him.

Greetings, muchachos. What I have for you today is a list of completely random and pointless observations. You can call it stream of consciousness, if you're the academic type. Or you can just assume that I'm a hopeless nut job.

Today my heart is full. Not because anything special happened or I've finally discovered the perfect combination of hair products, but just because life is good. And in case you didn't pick it up at any of the other dozen times I've mentioned it -- I love my hometown.

Having been somewhat topical over the past several weeks, I'm excited today to just fill you guys in on some things that have been going on with me and The Police lately.

Today, my friends, I feel like preaching. So hang on to your hats. Or your wigs. Or your skirts. You catch my drift.

This week, The Police and I bought a new mattress -- memory foam, with a layer of cooling gel. It's my best friend, it's the love of my life, we stroll hand in hand on the beach. I've named it Alfred.

Spring is in the air, and I'd like to give it a big giant hug -- even though it makes my eyes water and my nose gush a lot of snot. That was oversharing. And gross. I apologize.

Men, you're going to want to tune in today, you might learn something. I mean it. Read on ...

I would like to start off this week by sharing a little celebration with you, my friends. For the first time today -- and I mean the very first time, I spelled the word "receive" correctly on the first shot.

So, I'm in Istanbul. No big deal, right? I took a job teaching English to young professionals at a language school, signed up to help some local missionaries who were friends of my parents, and hit the city streets.

In honor of Valentine's Day this year, I am going to bring you, in my own rambling way, the first installment of a grand, sweeping romance -- one that spans continents and years, and ends up right here in this little town on the Mississippi River.

I would like to thank The Academy for having no idea who I am, my dog Ellie for going almost a week with no accidents on the floor, and the people who run T.J. Maxx for further enabling my shoe obsession. But mostly, I would like to thank my parents for not medicating me for behavior correction when I was a child, because God knows no one would have blamed them...

So, I just returned to the land of the cotton fields from a weekend in Phoenix, visiting my grandmother.

I was a gullible kid. Really, really, gullible. I'm going to say it was because I was full of the milk of human kindness in my youth, and had childlike faith to believe the best of everyone, not because I was a total space cadet who barely paid enough attention to my surroundings to keep from falling down.

I think the transition from young person to old person begins at the moment when you realize that the opportunity to stay in your house in your sweat pants all day and hang curtains or something becomes an exciting idea, as opposed to an idea that makes you want to cry. Or maybe that's the moment when you begin to transform from a person with a social life into a hermit. I'm not sure...

From day one of starting this columnist venture, I determined that I would keep it real. All true stuff right here folks. Unfortunately, as we all know, real life isn't always amusing, and neither is my story for today. But that's the way it is.

The woman who is the voice of our GPS system is drunk with power, teeming with sarcasm and must be stopped.

Since it's Christmas Day as you read this, I sincerely hope that you are cozied up somewhere with your family, wearing footie pajamas in front of the fire and sipping hot chocolate (at least that's how I'm going to picture you all).

I've been going to the gym nearly every day for the last month or so. Feel free to congratulate me next time we meet, or give me a cupcake, because I have to replace all those burned calories. Whichever you feel would be best.

Hey everybody. I'd like to start off this week with a tiny slice of self-justification. Or maybe it's just guilt and shame in disguise. But anyway. I am an excellent housekeeper. No, really. I am.

Happy Post-Thanksgiving, my friends -- I hope you are all sufficiently fat and happy today. Or at least fat, just so I won't feel like I'm alone in the universe of Step Away From The Pie If You Know What's Good For You.

A conversation with the Automated Phone Service Devised in the Pits of Hell:

I am writing to you this week from within a cloud of disinfectant spray, my friends. Apparently, our office has a slight mouse problem, and this morning I got to my desk and discovered some, umm, evidence that they had been there.

I hope everyone had a great Halloween, whether you dressed up and got all wild and crazy, or dressed your kids up and took them trick-or-treating, or just sat home and stared at the wall.

This week, my friends, I want to share something with you that troubles me deeply. No really. It's a problem. It causes my left eyelid to twitch and renders my brain unable to stop my mouth from launching into loud, impassioned rants.

As I sit here and stare at my computer screen, my friends, I realize that there are some things about me that haven't changed since about the second grade.

Before we get started this week, something needs to be addressed. And snickered about. But cleared up.