You might remember Jennifer, one of my lovely college freshies? She’d love to say hi, but she’s way too busy studying:

Erika, another one of our Starlite leaders, has really been focusing on her studies as well:

I’m so proud of the examples that they’re setting for all the little girls we serve.

So proud, indeed.

Recent conversation between me and one of our leaders, the amazing and oh-so-talented Anna:

Anna:  “So, I was walking down the sidewalk on my way to class the other day while wearing my Starlite t-shirt when a Campus Safety officer walked up to me and asked me if I was in Starlite.”

Me:  “And of course you said yes.”

Anna:  “Well, yeah.  But then he said “So, you work for that brat?” and I felt so awkward.”

Me:  “Brat?!?!  Who in the world is he talking about?”

Awkward silence.

Me:  “Wait… me?  He thinks I’m a brat?  What did you SAY?”

Anna:  “Well, I was really nervous so I just said “Yeah, she can be pretty bratty at times.”  But don’t worry — you’re not bratty in real life!  I just didn’t know what to say to him.”

Well said, my Starlite-leader-who-is-henceforth-going-to-be-on-bathroom-cleaning-duty-in-the-Starlite-office.  Well said.

Wondering how I got the reputation for being bratty with our college’s Campus Safety department?  Here’s an excerpt from an interview I did during my senior year of college:

“‘I heard that there’s a rumor going around that I swam in the fountain,’ senior Amy Beth ——- says with a grin.  ‘I’m just going to plead the Fifth Amendment ,’ says Amy Beth, whose midnight disguise, a hat and sunglasses apparently failed her that fateful night in front of the administration circle.”  Vindagua, 2006

They’ve never forgiven me for that 3 a.m. swim in the fountain.  And yet, it was so worth it.

Well, I’m finally home.  I’ll skip boring you with telling you the story but here’s the highlights: delayed six hours out of Phoenix; arrive at Charlotte airport where I spend all night sitting in a chair next to the boy with the rubber band braces; early morning flight out of Charlotte delayed due to mechanical error; begin to board; told to get back off; repeat; repeat one more time; finally board a flight home.

It was the stuff dreams are made of, I do believe.

However, none of it could compare to one of the eight voicemails waiting on my phone when my plane landed:

“Um, Amy Beth?  Hey, it’s Chris.  Listen, no reason to be alarmed but I dropped by the Starlite office to help Laura with her program supplies and noticed that the toilet seemed to be leaking.  So, basically, the basement flooded.  Umm, call me back.”

Awesome, right?

You do remember our last office flood, don’t you?  Here, let me refresh your memory a bit:

If you look closely, you can see the water leaking from the ceiling onto the floor.  It was a magical day full of joy and love and all kinds of warmfuzzy feelings.

And, you know, putting a lot of our office supplies in our front yard.  Please note how the utilities truck is parked halfway on our sidewalk and halfway on the road.  Like I said, it was a wonderful day at the Starlite office.

So, I headed over to the office to check out the damage and found that Chris had cleaned everything up and even moved our files in the basement so they wouldn’t get damaged in case it began flooding again.  Isn’t he a good Starlite Leader Boyfriend?

His girlfriend, the lovely Laura, left me a cute little note on my desk that I decided was worthy of sharing with all of the interlings.  Just a little backstory so the note makes sense: with ten separate programs happening each week, there is a tendency for some Starlite leaders (I’m not naming any names) to bring their program supplies back and just dump them in the kitchen without cleaning out their nacho supplies.  This has been a source of, how shall I put it… contention among some of our leaders in the last few weeks. 

I believe you’ll see that Laura and Anna (another Starlite leader) have had enough with the dumping of the nacho containers:

“Dear Amy Beth,

I pray that this note finds you in good form!  I just wanted to inform you that the kitchen is now trash-free thanks to a few fairies and seven trash bags.  I also wanted to let you know that the toilet flooded and leaked into the basement… no big deal.  I think we have fixed it.  Anyhoo, Anna and I have a great new (read: mandatory class) program idea: we would like to call it “Starlite Office 101.”  Or, “Welcome to Leadership Team: We Are Not Your Mom” or even “Cleaning the Starlite Office One Program Box at a Time and Keeping it Clean One Program Box at a Time.”

 Please let us know what you think,

Laura, Anna and Chris

P.S. – Actually, the toilet isn’t fixed… so give Chris a call and it will get fixed.  Maybe.

P.P.S. – We came back and tried to fix it but we don’t think that it is the toilet.  The leak seems to be coming from the wall and we don’t want to rip out walls.  Sorry, we tried.

P.P.P.S. – Love you.”

And so, let the fun begin!  Does anyone know a good plumber?

Also, could you suggest some curriculum that we could use for our first “Clean Up Your Processed Nacho Cheese Supplies or Else” class?

Interlings, I would like to introduce you to my new friend Irony.  You might have met him before; he likes to pop up at the most surprising times.

Take tonight, for example.  Mere hours ago I wrote a post about wishing my Imaginary Boyfriend would be at the airport to meet me when I arrive home.

And now?  I am stranded in an airport many, many hours from home.  And the boy sitting next to me is putting new rubber bands in his braces and telling me about how the Wright brothers flew 120 feet on their first flight.

He is 22.  And, this just in: engaged.

I am writing blogs about my Imaginary Boyfriend.  Rubber Band Braces Boy is engaged.

Irony, I see that you have arrived; join the party.

Anyway.  I saved a little treat for my interlings when I posted pictures earlier.  I was going to post these for you later today but?  Did I mention that it is now 3:29 a.m.?  And I am still in the airport?  Traveling alone? 

And so, I present my Monday morning gift to you:

Oh, quit looking so surprised.  You knew I was going to do it, even if he is a bit out of my age range.

Imaginary Boyfriend?  Are you reading?  Better be bringing your A game; you’ve got some competition.

Well, I’m on my way home to Tennessee… waiting for my flight out of Phoenix right now.  Since I have a few minutes, I thought I’d give you a brief overview of the weekend.  And, you know, an introduction to my Imaginary Boyfriend. 

You’re welcome, in advance.

As I’ve already mentioned, we began the weekend with the news that we were going to a Suns game.  Before the game, however, we went to dinner with Kimberly’s family.  When Kimberly was 10 years old, her parents began adopting children and now Kimberly has four of the cutest siblings you can imagine. 

The youngest, Jaelynn, is seven and totally into gymnastics.  Over dinner, she found out that we had an extra ticket to the game and began begging Kimberly to let her go with us to the game.  Kimberly told her that she couldn’t go with us because she was wearing her leotard from her earlier gymnastics practice and Jaelynn immediately said “That’s cruel, Kimberly.  That’s really cruel.”

So, guess who accompanied us to the game?

On Saturday, Kimberly introduced me to all kinds of things I had never experienced before and yet have somehow made it this far through life without.  An example?  Why, a very fancy restaurant:

We had a lovely lunch and then headed out for pedis and shopping.  We were pretty darn excited, if I do say so myself.

I can’t believe I don’t have pictures for you of one of the places we went to as it has definitely changed my life forever.  You might know it as Ikea.  I’ve decided to call it “The Store that Caused Me to Wish I Could Redecorate the Entire Starlite Office as Well as My Bedroom.”

I had never been to an Ikea before.  Seriously.  How did this store exist and I never partake of it’s goodness?  As I walked through the store, I actually repeatedly said “Why?  Why did no one tell me about this store before now? Whhhhhhhy?“

Ahem.  Moving on.

After enjoying a delicious dinner of Mexican Food That Is Way Better In Arizona Than Tennessee, we returned to Kimberly’s house to spend a few hours with my best friend, Dwight from The Office.

We invited our other new BFF to join us as well:

And so, I’m still waiting for my flight… we’ve just been informed that we won’t be leaving until the “Mechanical Technician” checks some things out.  This is fantastic news as I originally had 18 minutes to catch my connecting flight out of Charlotte to Chattanooga.  Glory.

And, breaking news, they have just told me that I will now be definitely missing my connecting flight.  But NO WORRIES, they don’t have another flight until tomorrow morning.  I mean, it isn’t like I have anything special to do tomorrow morning like, I don’t know, WORK. 

And so, let us discuss something MUCH happier.  Namely, my Imaginary Boyfriend.

As much as I like airports (other than this particular moment in time), I’m not all that fond of arriving at one after my flight has landed.  I’m kind of embarrassed about the reason behind this, but oh well:

When I was a little girl, I somehow got it in my mind that when you come out of the terminal, there will always be a boyfriend/husband/someone waiting for you to drop your bags and run straight into his arms.  I imagined that this would be the dialogue between us:

Imaginary Boyfriend: “Amy Beth, I’ve missed you so much!”

Me:  “Oh, Imaginary Boyfriend, I’ve missed you too!  Thank you ever so much for coming to the airport and waiting for my flight to land in order to help fulfill one of my childhood fantasies.”

Imaginary Boyfriend:  “Of course I wanted to be here when your flight landed.  I’ve been counting down the very seconds until you’d be here in my arms.”

Me:  “You are the best Imaginary Boyfriend ever.”

Imaginary Boyfriend:  “May I kiss you here, in this very public place, so that all will know that your Imaginary Boyfriend came to fetch you from the airport?”

Me:  [No response, because I have fainted.]

Alas, there will be no real nor imaginary boyfriend waiting for me in the airport tonight or tomorrow or whenever I finally make it home.  But there will be another man waiting as I finally come walking down the concourse just looking for someone to love.

And yet somehow I can’t imagine that the airport security guard would appreciate it if I ran into his arms.

Well, my loves, I’m here and it is fabulous!  I (already) have some great pictures for you, but my laptop is not cooperating right now so it will probably be a day or two before I get to share them with you. 

I am certain you will be waiting on pins and needles.

Moving on: Kimberly was at work when my flight landed yesterday, so her sweet parents picked me up from the airport.  They took me straight to their favorite restaurant, Brunchies, where we had some great tacos.  Let it be declared: Arizona has got it together when it comes to their Mexican food. 

Then we headed to their house so I could take a nap until Kimberly got home from work.  She popped in to wake me up right when she got home and immediately gave me a gift basket.

Because this is her birthday celebration and it is customary to give your friend gifts on your birthday.

But I’m not complaining ’cause that basket had Spring Oreos and I do not know if you’re aware of this but they are only one of the most delicious items on the planet.  Seriously.  They’re way better than original Oreos.

My basket had some other stuff in it, but the really exciting thing was in the very bottom of it.  I pulled out a Phoenix Suns t-shirt and Kimberly yelled “We’re going to their game tonight!”

Interlings.  I cannot even begin to tell you how excited I was when she told me.  Kimberly is only the biggest Suns fan in the entire world and so I, by default of living with her for 1.5 years, got into it, too.  I’ve never been to an NBA game but I’ve always wanted to go so let’s just say this was a fabulous moment in my life.

After spending a select amount of time on our hair (I wanted to support my team by having good hair, hallelujah) we went to dinner and then straight to the game.  I. Went. Crazy.  I mean, seriously.  I was yelling and screaming and jumping out of my seat.  And when the refs made a bad call, I let them know what I thought about it. 

In a nice, good girl kind of way.

I also kept singing that Song Who’s Name Will Not Be Mentioned Because it is Deplorable and Yet it Mentions My New Found Love, Steve Nash (point guard for the Suns).  Basically, every seven seconds I would sing “Is your game MVP like Steve Nash?” and then “Girl, I want you on my team… so does everybody else!”

Because I am sure that the Suns will be calling any moment to ask me to become a male basketball player and join their team.

It will be so very sad when I decline because, really, who would scoop out the processed nacho cheese if I left Starlite?

Alas, it was an incredibly close game and we ended up losing, but that didn’t matter.  Much. 

And so, the moral of this story is that I am now officially an NBA girl.  I can’t believe I’m actually going back to an area where we have no NBA team and no hope of getting one. 

I may never leave.  We just don’t have good Mexican food and Steve Nash in Tennessee.  We just don’t have it.

Good morning, it is really early.  And yet, I write to you because… I love you well, I don’t know why.

In a continued effort to avoid encountering Weird Starlite Stalker-ish People With Bad Intentions, I’ve neglected to mention until now, at approximately 3:54 a.m., that I am actually heading to Phoenix, AZ in a matter of minutes for a short trip to see one of my former roommates, Kimberly.  We both graduated together this past December and she immediately moved back to AZ to be near her family and start a great job.

I, of course, stayed in this very small town and put my newly-earned master’s degree to good use by continuing to dish out processed nacho cheese to elementary school girls.

Jealous much?

Anyway, Kimberly had a birthday a few weeks ago and asked her parents for one thing: to fly me out for a visit.  Touching, no?  Her parents, who have been longtime Starlite supporters and are just the sweetest people ever, agreed and the rest was history.

So, while I’m waiting for my first flight of the day, I figured we might as well talk about something that is one of my favorite things in the world (perhaps second only to wellies): flying the friendly skies!

I’m really not sure why I love to fly so much or why I have such deep affection for airports, but the truth is that I just can’t get enough of them.  I don’t fly that often as most places I visit for Starlite are in the South and just a few hours drive away, so I’m always looking for opportunities to go to the airport.

Case in point: whenever one of my Starlite leaders is flying back from a visit home, I always try to be the one to pick them up from the airport if I can at all work it into my schedule.  They think it is because I’ve missed them terribly and can’t wait to see them, but between me and you, I just want to see my beloved airport.

In fact, I typically try to get to the airport at least an hour before their flight is scheduled to land.  I go inside, find a seat and spend the next hour pretending I’m flying somewhere exotic like Hawaii or the Bahamas or even Memphis. 

Listen, when you love to fly, even Memphis sounds exotic. 

Back in early January, I actually flew with a friend from college to Memphis to visit some mutual friends for a few days.  While we were there, I was introduced to the goodness that is Ulta.  For those of you who are not blessed with a local Ulta, it is a hair/make-up/beauty superstore. 

Really, words don’t do it justice, but at least I tried.

We went to Ulta right before heading to the airport but I didn’t let that stop me from buying a new set of hair rollers.  Okay, if you want to know the truth, I got two sets.  I like to think of them as souvenirs from my trip abroad across the state.

Anyway, when we arrived at the airport, it became apparent that there was going to need to be a bit of adjustment in my luggage to fit my new hair rollers.  And so, right there in the middle of Memphis International Airport, I had to do the whole “I’m-a-bad-traveler-make-fun-of-me-while-I-fix-my-luggage” thing:

Note: I would like to thank the Paint application for the black lines I used to keep this blog from becoming Scandalous Pictures So Fabulous.

Ahem.

The real fun, though, happened on our way to Memphis when I asked our flight attendant if the pilots still give out the little “wings” pins to kids when they fly.  She smiled and said she’d go see if they had any.  Five minutes later, she came back empty handed but told me that I could meet the pilots once the plane landed if I wanted.

I, of course, assured her that I was far too mature to do such a childish thing.

Oh, who am I kidding?  I was all over that junk:

Again, I offer my gratitude to the Paint application for allowing me to add those lovely red hearts that signify that both the cute pilot and even cuter co-pilot were falling madly in love with me while I visited them once we had safely landed.

It must have broken their hearts when I exited the plane that fateful morning.

What can I say?  This type of stuff happens when you’re a state world traveler.  I’ve left a string of broken pilot hearts all over this fair country.

Or, you know, just the greater Memphis area.

Ooops — time to board my flight!  If you think about it, send up a little prayer for a safe flight.

And for a hot pilot, obviously.

Note:  We’re skipping Friday’s Face today because all their cute little faces are on Spring Break.  I thought about interview my hair for you, but I think we all know how sassy it can get and it is far too early in the morning for sassiness from hair.  Amen.

Remember Christan, my college roommate that I mentioned earlier this week?  She and I — along with a couple of other friends — have “secret” online diaries that only the others know about and can access.  We use them to stay in touch and mainly share with each other about what’s really going on in our lives.

Guess what I logged on to read this evening?

TITLE: you will find it here first!                                                                                                                             DIARY: Let’s see who reads my diary first!!!  I’M PREGNANT!!!!!!!!!!!

I know we have a lot of Starlite old-timers who read MinSoFab and served alongside Christan back in the gool ‘ol days, so I got her permission to share the truly fabulous news with you via la bloggy.  The new baby will join Cadence, who is just over a year old, and daddy Joey who is incredible at diaper changes!

Congrats Christan!  You are going to be one hot mama… again!

Last night I had a dream that we were having a sleepover for our middle school girls and that I had to fill in a role in a drama at the last minute.  As the music started to play, I wasn’t worried about the fact that I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing — I was too worried that I would fall off the stage.  I woke up in a cold sweat in the night and was happy to find myself safely in my bed and not on a stage in front of a few hundred middle school girls.

The dream made me think about an old Starlite story that I wanted to tell you, my precious interlings.  “Old” being the operative word as we’ve been around for, umm, 5 years.  Whatev’.

At one of our first sleepovers — I think it may have been our second or third — we decided to have a game that put all the different program directors against each other on stage.  We made them do random things — I can’t remember everything they did, but I do remember that they had to eat live crickets.

We are delicate flowers, no?

Anyway, the games started at 3 a.m.  In other words, I was about to fall over asleep at the start of it but forced myself to stay awake and try to get some enthusiasm going.  I was co-hosting the game with Craig, one of our male volunteers.  He was MUCH more enthusiastic than I was.  See for yourself:

Anyway, as the games began to wind down, Craig and I grabbed tall chairs to sit on because we were both about to declare we’d never do this again fall over from exhaustion.  As we were announcing the rules for the final game, I realized that my foot was caught in the metal around the bottom of the chair.  It was really starting to hurt, so I kept trying to get it free without making a big deal about it. 

Famous, famous last words.

With one final jerk, I succeed not in getting my foot free but in actually falling out of the chair face first onto the stage.  Since my foot was still attached to said chair, it came with me and found a lovely resting place on top of my body, effectively pinning me to the stage.  I was, of course, holding a live mic at the time so this half-time entertainment show provided by yours truly included various sound effects.

Did I mention I was wearing pajamas when this happened?  Or that, you know, they ripped somewhere in The Great Fall?

Yeah.

But the real fun came a week later when I stopped by one of our local middle schools for a meeting with the principal.  Before the meeting got started, he asked if someone had fallen on stage at the event.  Figuring I could save myself a bit of embarrassment, I answered that someone had fallen but didn’t mention that it was me.  He began laughing and I asked how he had heard about it.

“Oh, I went into the cafeteria earlier this week and a bunch of girls were doing a reenactment of it for the other kids and teachers.  It was hilarious.  Did you all get it on tape by any chance?  I’d love to see the real deal.”

I kid not.

On Monday afternoon, I got a call from my friend Christan.  We met during our first year of college; she lived on one side of the suite with Brandy (who, thankfully, is my dependable MinSoFab commenter) while Ashley N. and I lived on the other side.  We all started out sharing a bathroom without having any idea that we’d end up sharing a lot more of our lives together in the future.

Today, all three of them are married — Christan first, then Brandy and finally Ashley.  Both Christan and Brandy have beautiful baby girls and Ashley is successfully navigating optometry school with her husband by her side. 

In other words, all three of them are real, live grown-ups while I am the kid sister who plays ministry each day. 

The kid sister who will have umm, marriage advice, at her fingertips when the time comes.  You know, in 27 years.

I can only hope that their grandchildren will be flower girls and ring bearers in my wedding. 

Ahem.

So Christan called because she wanted all the details that I didn’t post on the blog about the Real Date.  After we discussed the fact that I actually tried coffee for the first time and the fact that her daughter is now old enough to appreciate cute shoes (my prayers have obviously been heard), she brought up the blog and unwittingly earned herself a place as today’s Well Said-er.

Christan: “When I read through the comments on your blog, I can tell who knows you in real life and who doesn’t.”

Me: “Really?  How?”

Christan: “Well, some of those people are like ‘Oh wow, Amy Beth, you’re incredible, your ministry is so awesome.’  It is like they think you’re, like, really special or something.  And then the rest of us are like ‘hey, what’s up.’”

Me: Silence.

Christan: “Not that you’re not special… you know what I mean.  Right?  Right?”

Well said, my friend who will keep me in my place and is still perhaps my favorite person to call when something good happens in Starlite.  Well said.