Okay, ya’ll.  I’ve been trying to decide whether or not to ask you the questions that keep me up at night.  The questions that plague me.  The questions that make me want to pull my hair out.

Well, not really.  I mean, it would take a lot for me to want to mess up my hair. 

Anyway, I’ve broken down.  I can’t handle another sleepless night wondering what the interlings want to see on the MinSoFab bloggy.  And so, I present: a poll.

But not just any poll — this one has MULTIPLE questions for you.  And, all of you lurkers?  You can let your voice be heard while still, um, lurking.

And all of you regulars?  I’ll expect votes and comments from you.  And if you don’t, I’m sending Imaginary Boyfriend after you. 

Be afraid, be very afraid.

And so, let us commence:

First, the big question on my mind: obviously I started this little bloggy to write about Starlite.  However, I now write about Starlite, my hair, ex-boyfriends, dates, my hair, processed nacho cheese, my friends and a little about my hair.  Would you rather it be more Starlite-based or still include the “me” stuff, too? 

Secondly, do you like Well Said Wednesday, where I list a (sometimes) funny story, email, etc? 

Thirdly, do you like Friday’s Face, where I feature one of my Starlite leaders each week?

 
Fourthly, if I occasionally did a live video chat where I chatted with you via video while you typed your responses back (for those of you who don’t have video chat), would you actually show up for it?

Fifthly, will you be my best friend?

Okay, I think that sums up most of the questions that keep me up a night.  Well, at least the ones that I’m going to actually poll you about.  I’m afraid the rest would scare you off, like last night when I couldn’t fall asleep and kept thinking about how I wouldn’t mind being a monkey if it meant I could eat more bananas and I wonder what kind of animals the interlings wish they could be if it meant they could eat those animal’s foods more often and maybe I should just buy some more bananas at the grocery store tomorrow?

See what I mean?  I’d never do something like that to you.

But for the record, I bet a lot of you would like to be puppies so that you could hang out with Snuggles and Cuddles, right?  Ya’ll are so predictable.

We’re working on the final edits for the Starlite website right now. The new site is absolutely gorgeous — and such a step up from what we’ve had in the past. I am counting down the very seconds until I get to show it to you. I think I’m more excited for my interlings to see it than anyone else!

One of the things that is still left is to choose a picture for the page that has my bio on it. I’ve put that decision off because? Hello? Who likes to select a picture of herself for a website?

But I have to choose and I think we’ve settled on this one:

What I think you’ll really find funny about the picture, however, is the un-cropped version:

See that mess behind me?  That’s because this picture was taken while I was in the middle of wrapping gifts for a bridal shower I was hosting later that day.  I didn’t have time to clean it up before, but I was told it wouldn’t matter — the junk would be cropped out later on.  In other words, no one would see my secret — that I had I had quite the messy living room when this picture was taken.

As I was looking at the pictures earlier today, I started thinking about something I wrote a few weeks ago for my college girls in Starlite that goes along with these pictures. And so even though you’re not my college girls, I thought I’d share it with you, too.  So slip on your sweatshirt and leggings, put your hair in a ponytail and grab some Ramen noodles. Trust me — you’ll fit right in.

Almost a year ago, a friend called me with panic in her voice. She kept stumbling over her words, but I finally figured out that she was trying to tell me that there was a picture of me that had been posted online that was more than unflattering. I got the website out of her and quickly logged on to see if it was true.

One glance and I was on my way home to my townhouse, literally ready to crawl under my covers and wait for a new millennium to begin. The picture was horrible and — though I knew it wasn’t an actual picture of me — the “artist” had apparently used a friend’s photo of me, a file photo of someone else’s body and Photoshop to his advantage.

He had created a monster and thoughtfully attached my name to it before posting it for all to see. He even left some personal comments with the image, including one about his guess as to what I weigh. He was about 100 pounds over in his guesstimate, but really, who’s counting?

I was far too devastated and embarrassed to be angry. I contacted him personally and first politely — then tearfully — asked for it to be removed. He refused. Said he wanted people to see what the leader of Starlite Ministries really looked like. I guess what he meant is that he wanted people to see what the leader of Starlite Ministries really looked like in his mind since the person in the image wasn’t really me.

Now, stay with me here.

At church this past Sunday morning, they were projecting Pastor Robert’s image onto two screens behind him. I was almost startled by how he appeared on the screens because the image looked very different than what I was seeing in real life. There was a resemblance, of course, but I couldn’t get over how different his image looked projected on a screen verses the real-life version of him standing right in front of me.

It reminded me of how I felt back when that picture of me first hit the internet. I knew what the real me looked like, but I was seeing that image distorted on a screen. It didn’t matter how many of my close friends called to say that the image didn’t look anything like me; it had my name on it. And somewhere in the darkness that the pain was causing, I had started to believe the lie that I was seeing in front of me really was me.

As I started writing this tonight, I flipped back in my private diary to that season of my life and the lies were there, written in my own familiar handwriting. I called myself names that no one else would dare. I stuck labels on myself that even my worst enemies wouldn’t dream of bringing to me. The things I said about myself — my God, to myself — are too horrible to even print here.

But each time I wrote them, I believed them a bit more and they became etched onto my heart until I was sure that I had always been and would always be the distorted image of myself that stared back at me on my computer screen.

My lie that I believed isn’t that far from yours, you know.

It is the same lie that says that if people knew your secret, they’d never look you in the eyes again.

It is the stern voice telling you that you must have wanted, no deserved, for that man to violate you in a way that you may never put into words.

It is the sweet taste of the syrup-like medicine flowing from the amber bottle as you promise yourself that this is the last time you’ll need it to fall asleep.

It is the seductive voice that tells you that it doesn’t matter if you go a bit further tonight, cross one more line with him.

It is the taunting you hear splashing around in the water from the showerhead while you reach for the razor and hold out your arm.

It is the whisper in the darkness of your bedroom that reminds you that you’ll never break that addiction to p*rn, that you’ll continue logging on night after night.

It is the hangover you wake up with in the morning that still somehow seems worth the time you spent not feeling anything the night before.

“The enemy reached out to take all her favorite things.” Lamentations 1:10

I could sum it up rather tidily right here, but I think that God would prefer to do it Himself. Go stand in front of that mirror again and see if you can hear another, softer voice. I think you’ll recognize His voice.

I looked out the window yesterday morning to see that it was raining.  Hard.  

Which, coincidentally, is just the way I like to start out my Monday — splashing around in some wellies, perhaps with a matching umbrella.  Except, sadly I remembered that I had Important Things To Do at my Other Job — you know, The One I Don’t Blog About.  Needless to say, wellies aren’t exactly appropriate for that job.

So I was feeling a little wellies-less sad.  But then I took a deep breath, and headed out to my car.  I was going to be EARLY to the office, in fact!  I’m in the middle of planning An Event I Must Be Vague About that a couple thousand people will attend later this week.  Needless to say, this is the week when I need to bring my A game.

Considering that I also have to continue running Starlite, chase two puppies and try to figure out to do with my hair all while planning said event, I might actually need to bring my A+ game.

So I’m walking out the door, all ready to take on caterers and musicians and decorators and then…

I see that my car has a flat tire.

Oh, but it gets better.  After consulting with the friendly boys at the car repair-y place, it appears that my tire doesn’t have a leak or a hole or anything of that nature.  It seems that my car has a case of Someone Playing A Joke On Me By Letting The Air Out Of One Of My Tires.

I was understandably thrilled by this news and immediately began considering whom the suspects might me.  Roommate?  No, I would have heard her go outside during the night.  Neighbor?  No, I baked cookies for them which I’m sure won them over.  Ex-boyfriend?  Well…  No, he wouldn’t do that if only for the fear that I’d call him for help.  Which I wouldn’t.  ‘Cause I am an independent woman thankyouverymuch.

Whoever it was that did it better be watching their back.  I told Imaginary Boyfriend about it last night and he wasn’t too happy.  In fact, he said that he was Very Mad that someone would mess with his adorable, sweet and charming girlfriend’s car.

Obviously you do NOT want to mess with my Imaginary Boyfriend. 

I won’t be able to go to bed tonight unless I tell you the awful, horrible, very bad, no good truth.

Remember that post from earlier tonight where I told you that I fixed myself a microwave pizza?

Well, the only reason I had to fix one in the microwave is because the one I put in the oven 30 minutes before that burned to a crisp. I have no idea how this could have happened. It certainly isn’t because I don’t know how to cook.

Certainly not.

On my way downstairs to microwave a pizza fix a complex dinner tonight, I noticed that Katie was sitting on her bed, surrounded by index cards and looking pretty sad.  I asked her what was wrong and she had only a single-word answer: “Finals.”

A quick glance at the index cards confirmed that she was studying the dreaded Humanities, also known as The 8 A.M. Class That Katie Rarely Went To During This Past Semester.  After trying to assure her that she’d do great on tomorrow morning’s exam (and no, I don’t really believe that either), I started grasping for straws:

Me: “Well, what grade do you have in the class right now, before you take the final?”

Katie: “Before I answer, why does it matter?”

Me: “I was just thinking that maybe you could just bomb the final and still pass the class.”

Katie: “Um… thanks for that not-so-helpful advice.  I’d like to actually keep my honors scholarship.”

I gave up at this point.  But then, while throwing away my paper plate washing my fine china after dinner, an idea came to me.  I knew just the thing to cheer Katie up.  I ran to my bedroom, put my hair in a ponytail and then knocked softly on her door.

And then I proceeded to do an entire song and dance routine to various Celine Dion songs.  Jealous much?

Well, I hope you are jealous.  ‘Cause Katie?  Not so jealous.  Or impressed.  Or even remotely grateful.  That’s the last time I sing Celine Dion for her.  I’m going back to the only stage where I’m truly appreciated.

Ya’ll be sure to crowd into my bathroom tonight but don’t you dare try to get in my shower on my stage.

One of the things about Starlite that I still can’t get used to is the coming and going of our college girls.  We have a lot of them, too — over 300 volunteered with us in some capacity during this past school year.  I obviously don’t get to know all of them, but the 20 of them that serve on our leadership team end up carving their own little places in my heart.

And then they leave me. 

One of my leadership team girls — Cate, to be specific — is graduating from college this coming Saturday.  This isn’t the first time one of them has graduated or transferred to a different college or even just decided not to serve on leadership team for another semester.  But this time is particularly hard for me because Cate is more than just one of our leaders.

She’s also my cousin.  Well, kind of.

When Cate became a Starlite volunteer, we didn’t know each other.  Never met.  Never spoken.  Nothing.  After serving with one of our programs in a local alternative school, Cate decided to apply for a position on our leadership team.  She was selected and has been a part of the team ever since. 

One night, I mentioned that I was going to a party at a house here in Cleveland.  Cate announced that she was also going to that party, especially since she’d be seeing her whole family there.  I corrected her and told her that it was my extended family who was hosting this particular party.  And then we simultaneously whipped out our cell phones and called our grandmothers to confirm the awful truth: we were related.

We’re still not sure exactly what we are to each other, but we’ve decided that the title of cousins will do for now.  We’re perfectly suited for each other as both of us claim “ya’ll” as our favorite word.  And remember how opposites attract?  Let’s just say that Cate has made my life a whole lot more fun and I’ve made her life a whole lot more… um… calm.

But back to last night’s party!  Normally one of the girls from our team would go and buy all the stuff, but with it being finals week here in college-ville, I opted to go to the grocery store.  As I started going down the aisles with my cart (I really call it a buggy but I don’t want to appear too southern), I began thinking about Cate’s experience in Starlite. 

The truth is that Cate lived quite a different life before joining Starlite.  I wouldn’t dream of trying to tell her story for her, but I’ll just say that being a leader in a ministry was very, very far from her plans.  When she became a part of our leadership team, she signed the “Starlite Covenant” — an agreement we all have about what is acceptable in our lives and what isn’t.  And when she signed it, she left a whole lot of things behind her.

And has never looked back.

By the time I made it to the frozen food aisles last night, I was almost in tears as I thought about the change that Cate has made with her life.  I tried to pull myself together enough to find some sherbet for the punch.  But as I stood halfway in the ice cream freezer trying to find raspberry sherbet, I just lost it.  I mean, tears everywhere — all over the ice cream!  The man picking out Rocky Road beside me looked a bit frightened and I really can’t blame him.  I had mascara running down my cheeks in little frozen rivers.  I brought new meaning to the phrase “the ugly cry.”  In fact, the Ugly Cry Association is sending out a press release later this morning announcing me as their new poster child. 

At this point, I decided it would be in my best interest to get out of the grocery store as quickly as possible.  I finally calmed down and made it to the front of the store only to see that there was quite a line waiting at the one register that was open.  To take my mind off the fact that my appearance was frightening small children, I decided to concentrate on the magazines next to me.

And that’s when I saw a headline that made me start crying all over again:  “Britney loses 30 pounds in only 20 days — something ONLY a star could do!”

Fabulous.  Now I’m gonna have to become a star so I can loose weight at an alarming and quite unhealthy rate.  Just another thing to add to my to-do list… as if raising a ministry two wayward puppies wasn’t enough already.

I’ve got my hands full this weekend with a certain blond six year old. And, I have the best story to tell you about God going above and beyond:

A few weeks ago, as I was driving back home after spending a few days with MacKenzie, I started thinking about how I wished I could take her on a fun vacation. I kept wishing I could take her to Disney World, but didn’t give it too much thought as that isn’t exactly in this 23 year old’s current financial plan.

Flash forward to this weekend: someone blessed me with a weekend vacation for me and two guests. I loaded MacKenzie and one of our Starlite leaders up and we headed out of town for the weekend. Not only are we on a cheap vacation, but I was given VIP passes to over 30 different attractions in this town, with most of them kiddie attractions. We even got to have dinner at Hard Rock tonight — for free, of course.

But the sweetest part of this weekend happened on the way back to our hotel when MacKenzie tugged on my arm. I looked down at her and almost burst into tears when she said “Amy Beth, this is just like going to Disney World but better!”

It sure is, MacKenzie.

“God can do anything, you know — far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams!” - Ephesians 3:20a, MSG

A few days ago I told you that one of my main tasks this summer, at least in relation to Starlite, will be to raise money to support our programs.

I’ve got a lot of personal goals for the summer, too. I’m going to work on some writing projects, go on a couple of trips and even try to spend a few hours at the pool. Oh, and I’m planning to spend some quality bonding time with Imaginary Boyfriend.

But back to Starlite: I thought I’d give you a quick peek into some ways that I will no longer be using to help support our hot pink ministry:

1. Babysitting - While you might think that babysitting at $6.00 / hr would be an excellent way for us to earn cash for our ministry, you’d be… well, wrong. The problem is that most of our leaders don’t really get along with children. They’re just in Starlite for the processed nacho cheese. I, on the other hand, definitely have a way with children, especially babies:

2. Dancing at Chuck E. Cheese — I’d like to clarify that we won’t actually be dancing at any establishment, but especially not Chuck E. Cheese. As you will see below, we have an entire dance troupe — led by yours truly — that endeavors to bring in the dollars. Shockingly, all we received at this particular event was a few tokens and some tickets that could be redeemed for plastic prizes that broke on the way home.

3. Playing any form of music instrument — While this may come as a shock to you, I am not a real guitarist. I know, I know. All this time you’ve been thinking that I’ve been hiding my true rocker side behind all this hot pink fluff. Sadly, my days of headlining at all the major concerts have come to an end. Notice that I am really playing pretending to play.

On second thought, after a quick look at next year’s budget compared with the rising costs of processed nacho cheese…

BOOK NOW. Babysitting, dancing, acting like fools… you name it, we do it.

I’ve got 11 12 items to give away (I counted wrong the first time around!) and, as promised, used my trusty Random Integer Generator to help me find winner. And, because I can’t see my comments in numbered form, I had to actually count them — and re-count them — to find out who had won.

And… it is someone I’ve met before! Congratulations, Jenn! Instead of shipping the products to you, maybe you can just come by the Starlite office and pick them up?

That is, if you can pry them out of my greedy-hair-product-loving-hands.

Just kidding. I’m going to be a cheerful giver.

But mainly just ’cause I’m hoping God will send me more hair products. To give away to ya’ll, of course. Yeah, that’s definitely why I want more hair products. No selfish reasons here.

Helwo. Dis is Snuggles, agin.

I is sorwy to hijacked da bwloggy agin, butt it has come 2 my atentshun dat da mommy has pwosted pwictures of me and da puppy bwother. We no beleeve dat she pwosted pwictures of us NEKKID! At weast we looked like sheeeeep so u couldn no see our… u know.

Dis pwictures hurted our fweeling becuz we is hoping 2 get a date fwom da bwloggy. Dat no gonna happen if da mommy putted ugle pwictures of da puppies on da wurl wyde webbie.

So, we tooked da matters inta our own hands paws.

Welcum to dis week’s Fwiday’s Face-y feeturing Snuggles y Cuddles, aka hotedest pwuppies on da planet.

Herre is Cuddles, modeweling our pwolo ware. He even popped da cowlar! We weared da pwolos when we wanted 2 be cul.

Nexted, we hav Snuggles shoowing da swleepwear. Who no wanted to… um… snuggle wif dis puppy?

We not all cutey all da time. We fwierce, 2. Weally, weally fwierce:

Sumtwimes we get in2 fwights wif each udder when we hav our jackwets on.

Den we getted in trouble from da mommy. Gwess who tooked DIS pwicture?

Dat’s wright. We got putted in our pwaypen. Agin.