Geico for your money.

I was driving around my hometown with my parents on Christmas Eve, looking at the neighborhood that usually puts luminaries out.

Except this year that neighborhood did not do luminaries, which means Christmas should have been canceled and I just wasted a trip home. (Best guess as to why they didn’t put them out this year: burn ban.)

I had surgery on Dec. 20, and I was in a mood on Christmas Eve. My head throbbed and my face was swollen.

I was in the backseat, and I started talking about how I want a prenup if someone ever decides that I’m maybe marriage material.

My parents didn’t seem to like this idea of mine.

Marriage is forever, they said. Through sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live. ‘Til death do you part.

At this point, I thought the only appropriate response to that was to start singing some Kayne:

We want prenup! We want prenup! It’s something that you need to have, cause when she leaves, she’s gonna leave with half.

🤷‍♀️

Merry Christmas to my parents, from me.

We don’t want no gold diggers! 

Weird sentences

I laid in bed last night, thinking about life.

I have a pretty impressive bruise on my leg from the day's shenanigans. I laid awake thinking of the sentence that I could come up with that would best describe how I got that injury.

Here's what I came up with: I have a huge bruise on my leg because I rammed it into a shopping cart while I ran over a porkchop.

I wish I was kidding.

I'm not.

That incident is my second favorite that's happened this year that warrants a weird explanation. A couple of months ago, while I was shaving my legs in the shower, I cut my nose with the razor that I had in my hand.

Don't ask me how it happened, because I have no idea.

I left it alone and it healed nicely. However, explaining to people why I had a wound on my face was kind of an awkward conversation.

Something like: Apparently you need to pay attention to where your face is when there's a sharp object in your hand. Who knew?

Every morning when I put makeup over the scar on my nose, I think about all the weird sentences that I've come up with in my life.

This morning, when it was pouring rain outside: We have a moist Pickles who's probably going to poop in my house today.

Life is wild and crazy.

---

One more note...

Fall weather!

Part 2 - "If you learn anything from Jack, it's that you shouldn't go to work early. It can kill you."

My favorite part of the trip was the morning that I spent driving to Lynchburg to see the Jack Daniel's Distillery.

Yes, please.

I've been made fun of in the past for planning everything to death. I am that person who will make a to-do list, and then make a to-do list to make sure everything on my first list gets accomplished.

On this trip, I made it a point to not plan anything. I had my Airbnb reservations set in advance, but that's the only planning I did.

I talked to my Mom when I stayed in Saint Louis on the first night of my trip. She asked me how I was getting to Nashville, and what highways I planned to take.

My answer: "I have no idea. That's tomorrow's problem."

She asked me what I had planned the next day, presumably so she would know where to guide law enforcement if I mysteriously vanished.

My answer: "I have no idea. I'll figure that out tomorrow."

On my first afternoon in Nashville, I went downtown. I was nervous about the parking situation. Actually, that's a lie. I was terrified about parking.

It turns out that parking is not a big deal.

Getting there, on the other hand, is a very big deal.

I've never seen traffic that bad.

When I finally got through traffic and parked, I sat in my car for a really long time (with the AC on). I thought about whether I wanted to get out of the car.

I don't know how to describe it if you haven't been there. There are cars and people and pedal taverns and scooters and did I mention people everywhere?

It's overwhelming.

I wasn't willing to do Broadway two days in a row, so I decided to get up early on my second day there and drive to Lynchburg.

I set my GPS on my phone, but it turns out that I didn't need it. Everyone else who came to Nashville that day who hated the crowds had the same idea I did, and all I had to do was follow the stream of traffic two hours south.

Did I mention how beautiful it was?

Everything is perfect there, from the perfect little roadside fruit stands to the perfect white picket fences to the perfect cows grazing on perfect green grass.

The hay fields looked perfect. The farms had perfect dogs on them.

Literally every little thing is beautiful there.

Fun facts about the distillery:

• Jack's real name was Jasper. (My parents have a dog named Jasper. Go Jasper!)

• Jack died of an infection. He went to work early one day and the person who usually opened the safe wasn't there yet. Jack kicked the safe out of anger, and eventually died because of that incident. Our tour guide: "If you learn anything from Jack, it's that you shouldn't go to work early. It can kill you."

The safe that Jack kicked.

• One barn on the property holds 20,000 barrels of Jack, which is $14 million worth of product. There are 89 barns on the property. If you do the math, you'll learn that I can't even multiply that high.

• The spring they get their water from is 56 degrees. In the Tennessee summer when it's about 100 degrees outside, standing by that spring feels pretty good. I went back and stood by it again after everyone in our tour had left.

• Although Lynchburg is in a dry county, you can buy a "commemorative bottle" at the distillery. That bottle just happens to have whiskey in it. Funny how that works.

• During the tasting portion of our tour, our tour guide had us mix Tennessee Honey and Tennessee Fire together. It was my favorite combination.

I could go on and on, but I'll stop there. I don't know how or when this was placed on my bucket list, but it was and it's something I've proudly crossed off.

I drank Jack Daniel's in the place that it's made.

Life is good.

I just got back from Hell

I just got back from Hell

Gary Allan

I just got back from Hell
And I'm standing here alive
I know it's really hard to tell
Don't know how I survived
But I can't say that I'm doin' great
But I think I'm doin' well
That Devil's gonna have to wait
'Cause I just got back from Hell

Well, I just got back from Hell
And I guess to tell the truth
Well, I've been mad at everyone, including God and you
When you can't find no one to blame you just blame yourself
And I know I'll never be the same
I just got back from Hell

Forgive me if I had any part
If I ever broke your heart in two
Forgive me for what I didn't know
For what I didn't say or do
And, God, forgive me as well
'Cause I just got back from Hell

Well, I just got back from Hell
And I need to make some plans
It's the last thing that I wanna do
But I'll do the best I can
I'm gonna learn to live again
But I think I'll sit a spell
Tell the world that I'm alive
And I just got back from Hell

I can't say that I'm doin' great
But I think I'm gettn' well
Gonna let the world know I'm alive
And I just got back from Hell
And I just got back from Hell
I just got back from Hell
Got back from Hell

---

If I had to describe the Gary Allan concert in one word, I would call it excellent.

I wish I could describe it to people who weren't there. There are no words to explain it, though. 

You can tell when someone loves what they do and enjoys doing it. 

If a little show in nowhere Kansas can be this great, I wonder what living in Nashville must be like. 

There are no words. 

Just, wow. 

---

The thing that makes me even more excited is that we've got Church coming up in a couple of weeks. 

In the words of EC himself: "The only way I've ever fixed anything in me that's been broken in me is with music."

I know what broken feels like. My broken doesn't look like other people's broken, and for that I'm thankful. Throughout my broken, I've maintained my job, my family, my friends, my dogs and kept my house. 

But broken is broken and music helps. 

Guys, life downright sucks sometimes.

But music helps.

Other than Pugfest, I do believe that concerts are the happiest place on Earth. 

That's you.

A while ago, I bought the girls some ice cream in town.

Little red-haired girl told me she had to potty, so I took her to the bathroom.

As we were washing our hands, she noticed I took two paper towels instead of one. She asked me why I did that.

Because I'm a rebel, I told her. 

She giggled: "I'm a rebel!"

We went back out to eat our ice cream. She told her Daddy: "I'm a rebel!"

The scene above repeated itself on the Fourth of July. Little red-haired girl noticed, again, that I took two paper towels.

She remembered our conversation from the ice cream store.

"Monica a rebel!"

I'm trying to teach the girls that they don't have to listen to the man. They are free to be rebels, be badasses, and be outsiders. 

I want the girls to know that they can stand up to authority if they feel strongly about something (like me when it comes to my health care). You do not have to fit inside the box in life. You can color outside the lines. Tell the man to shove it and make your own rules.

Later that night, after we ate our ice cream, I told the girls to pick up their toys. 

Little red-haired girl told me no and walked away. My brother didn't hesitate to throw that in my face.

"I thought you were teaching them to be rebels? How's that working out for you?"

SHUT UP.

To quote one of my favorite John McCutcheon songs: You teach kids to be strong and stand up to authority...and then you realize, that's you.

I still stand by my life lesson. 

Stand up to authority, girls. Challenge people, sit at the table, and speak up and defend yourselves to hell and back if you have to in order to get what you want and what you need. 

Just don't challenge me, okay?