Girls have a button, boys have a pole and wicked touching takes its toll.  Did wicked touching indeed take its toll on Brigham Young University star basketball player, Brandon Davies?

It seems that the catchy poem from the priest in "Superstar," may be spot on in the story of Brandon who was suspended from the BYU team when it came to light that he had sex with his girlfriend. Why, you may ask, is the basketball team "all up in his business?" The answer is from the school's code of conduct. Brandon Davies signed the mandatory honor's code which states he will live a "chaste and virtuous" life. Simply put, he will not have premarital sex.

A private university, Brigham Young is owned by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Most know them as Mormon's, a religion whose tenets are strongly rooted in honesty, clean living, pure language, active participation in church, modest dress and grooming, including only one set of pierced ears for women, and abstinence from alcohol, tobacco, drugs, coffee and tea. The school's over 30,000 students are mainly members of the church and part of their service is two years of missionary work.

What makes this suspension extremely interesting, is the fact that the school swiftly made the decision, even in light of the potential for a historic year in men's basketball. Up until Davies' suspension, the team had a 27-2 season and a great shot at a number one seed in the NCAA tournament during March Madness. But after his suspension, the team feel hard against New Mexico, a team they were almost assured to beat.

Further, at a time where sports have taken over everything, including academics, it is amazing a team would give such a harsh punishment. Athletics brings in millions of dollars a year to universities, and a winning season not only brings in the funding, but also future player's attentions. But one must admire the school's dedication to their code and beliefs.

But, is it realistic to think that kids (and college kids especially) will not have sexual relations? While some studies are showing a return to virginity being en vogue, hormones do take over. Is an honor's code an antiquated clause that sets people up for failure? Or is it the stuff that shows what one is made of? Further, in this situation, just how did the information come about? Who found out and told? Did everyone involved confess? What about the girl? Did she get punishment? There are so many questions, and some will never be answered.

The school took a stand and Brandon Davies fell. The sad thing is his decisions affect the school, the team, and undoubtedly his own belief system. I'm sure he questions his decision, the school's decision, and the publicity surrounding what should have been an intimate thing between two consenting adults in a loving and committed relationship.

As Thomas Paine so eloquently state, "these are the times that try men's souls." Hopefully this trying time for Brandon Davies will be one of quiet reflection, soul searching, and perseverance for a strong future, and in this he will shine brightly with a strong sense of who he is and who he will become.

Words can change history. What speech or document do you find to be most important and why?

There are so many things that I could choose to be most important. Some may say Martin Luther King's "I have a dream," speech. Some may say parables from the bible are what changed their lives. I choose, "The Gettysburg Address."

Why, you may ask? I love the feel, the texture of the speech. Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. I love the concept, that people set sail for a better life. A place where liberty prevails. Where everyone is created equally. Not some patriarchal and royal society, but where all can be whom they choose.

And in talking about the civil war, that who are we, those that haven't fought to be claiming anything, but that it is those that fought and lived and fought and died that consecrated the ground. It doesn't matter for what they were fighting, it was that they believed so strongly in something, that they were willing to go to great strides to protect it.

And years later, with yet another war that we look and can believe, it is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us--that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion--that we here highly resolve that these dead shall no have died in vain--that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom--and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth. I pray that today's soldiers feel that they are fighting for something that they will be honored and remembered as heroes, thought of as living by our forefather's beliefs that we are a nation conveived in Liberty.

Can any of you, honestly say that those words, that concept doesn't move you? I feel a chill, a new sense of hope that my life, my world can truly be a place where all people are created equal, and shall not perish from the earth.

A.M. - While I slacked at the end of this week on working out and didn't exactly eat healthy, I can take pride in knowing that trying is better than doing nothing at all. I lost half a pound and today is a new day.

I still owe a blog on BYU's basketball player and I have about half of it written. It's a struggle because I can see both sides of what I'm writing and I've yet to be able to pick a side to argue. Guess I will merely have to write both sides. Hmm...new concept!

Today I start an eight week e-course on getting published in magazines. Hey, if I'm truly starting the rest of my life, then I have to chase my dreams too, which is to be a writer. Not just someone who says she is, but actually someone earning some money at it. I don't have to be like J.K. Rowling, just a woman who can earn doing what she loves.

I also have a tele-course tomorrow on why your query letters fail. I don't know if mine do because I'm too afraid to send them out. Something about I won't fail if I don't try, but actually in not trying, I AM failing. So, there you have it.

My goal for today is to begin my first assignment, get on the elliptical (and actually move, not just stand on it), and apologize to my oldest for making her upset. While she blamed me for something I didn't do (well, actually she blamed me for making her do something that I in no way did), but I upset her by lecturing. So, going to fix that too. I think today deserves a p.m. blog to let you know if I did these things! 

Have a great Monday and happy birthday to my friend Dennis. And welcome to my conscience, Shelly!



P.M. - First, this afternoon was crazy, with a capital C! I went to Wal-Mart to get some laundry detergent. I came out, put it in my trunk, and right as I slammed the trunk realized I made the most stupid mistake ever. I had dropped my cell phone in the trunk and managed to lay down my keys as well. So, there they were...locked in...and here I was, with no keys or cell phone. My work cell? Locked in the front seat of my car. By this point, I was afraid I wasn't going to get home in time to pick up my girls so I could take them to dance. But, the kindness of a stranger who lent me her phone to make the first call to my husband, then major appreciation to Wally World for giving me free reign of their phone to call Toyota (who cut me a key). My folks who happened to be in town picked up said key, brought it to me, and then I managed to make it to all I wanted to do. But wow, was it a crazy thirty minutes or so.

Okay, so let's see what I managed to accomplish today. I have begun my assignment.  I have a couple ideas in the hopper and I hope to have three to send off to Linda tomorrow. But at the least, it will be sent by her Thursday day, which is the second day she critiques each week. So, I feel I am meeting that goal today, although it needs to be finished, I have a whole week before the second assignment.

Goal number two, getting on the elliptical. Well, while I would love to say yes, I'll be honest and say no. I can't even say that I stood on it. I did look at it. Um, does that count for anything? It took energy for me to turn my neck at a 45 degree angle and lifted my eyes to look at it. So therefore, it must have burned some calories. No? Okay, then I failed goal number two, and while I could sit here and say that the night isn't over, I'm just going to go ahead and admit that no, I will not be on it again today. I am such a sloth!

Moving on. My oldest is still mad at me. My goal now (I can change it, right?) is to talk with her when she goes to bed. That seems to be a good time to calm down, catch our breaths, and truly talk about what happened. And while what happened is between Veronica and I, I do feel that we can work through it. No, it's not a major issue, so don't think we're talking about a lock out situation, it's a pre-teen, hormonal girl kind of thing. She is my beautiful and amazing daughter, so it's all good. Mainly I want her to know that I love her and am proud of her. Wow, I don't think I'm improving things...just know, it was her perception of something that she had completely wrong. And I promise to make it right!

And finally, I have completed a p.m. blog. So, let's be honest, I have done well with setting and meeting my goals. Wait, that kind of sounded snotty. I didn't mean it that way. But, I do have to pat myself on the back from time to time because I am really hard on myself. Part of my new "life" is appreciating when I do something well...no matter how small. I'm just saying...

I don't sleep on a regular basis, but this particular night, syphilis and Charlie Sheen kept me up...all...night...long. Seriously, it was completely nightmarish, with my eyes wide open. Of course, no one can escape the hooplah that is Chuck these days.

He's a megastar (although he's trying to kill that as well as himself). He's a lover of porn (and the stars that go with it). He's a doer of drugs (hey, it takes a lot to keep up with hookers). In theory, this is a man who should have everything. He was born a genetic lottery winner. Dad is Martin Sheen, brother is Emilio Estevez...there is a lot of fame and fortune on his family tree.

He has starred in "Platoon," "Wall Street," "Young Guns," "Major League," "Hot Shots," "She Wants Me (post-production)", and "Gardel (pre-production)."  Although that last is rumored, so it will be interesting to see if they dump him faster than a Lindsay Lohan hot potato.

And of course, we can't forget his multi-year show, "Two and a Half Men," which seems to have been the final descent into his madness...or at least infamy. Where did all of his issues come from...well, besides the drugs? It seems that having a long career in Hollywood leads one to severe psychological discomfort. Must be so tiring having millions and everyone being at your beck and call.

Let's take a little look see into Charlie Sheen's mind. I promise, I won't leave you there. He recently said on a Boston radio station, "I watch all of you guys weep into your diapers in my rearview mirror. I've been blessed with a new brain and I'm usin' it... sorry!" Um, I don't know about you, but I only use my diapers for dusting. But okay, he's got a new brain, wonder if it is working any better than his previous one? 

He has also spouted, "I have a different constitution. I have a different brain; I have a different heart; I got tiger blood, man." I have absolutely no idea what to say to this. Really? Tiger blood? What did the tiger ever do to you to make you disrespect it so much?

And finally, "I'm tired of pretending like I'm not special. I'm tired of pretending like I'm not a total bitchin' rock star from Mars. ... You can't process me with a normal brain." Well thank the good Lord above for that one. Apparently no one ever knocked the wind out of his sails or told him he was not all that with a bag of chips and a pickle on the side. After being such a douche bag towards his boss, Charlie Sheen has now said he will not come back to "Two and a Half Men" for less than 3 million an episode. First, I find the 2 mil he was already making to be astronomically ridiculous, but three? Uh Chuckles, pretty sure they won't be giving you three dollars, let alone the millions you think you deserve. Guess he needs it for a better breed of hookers.

Which brings me to syphilis. I'm sure many mental health professionals are working round the clock to figure out Charlie's mental disorder. And no, stupid is not a DSM diagnosis, although I'm pretty sure it should be. He probably hasn't had a psychotic break, although it is possible. While it generally hits earlier, the drugs could have masked (exacerbated) the signs and symptoms. Seriously, most would assume he was a lunatic because of the ecstasy, heroin, cocaine, alcohol, pills, meth, or whatever else he was/is using.

What no one has mentioned though, is the possibility of syphilis. When people have sex with strangers and unsavory characters (I know, who am I to judge), sexually transmitted diseases are not only possible, but probably. Who are we kidding, in his drug induced state, I doubt he took the time to use a condom. Syphilis can cause brain problems (sound familiar?) and dementia. Before you go, "but wait a minute, he isn't old and doesn't have Alzheimer's," dementia affects thinking, judgment, and behavior. Pretty sure he is lacking in all those areas. Right?

While I find it horribly sad that Charlie Sheen, a man who should have it all, is vanishing into nothing more than a late night joke (you can Google to find recipes for the Tiger's blood cocktail or buy a multitude of t-shirts), this cautionary tale should make any wanna-be stars take a second look. If you love your kids, encourage educations, because you don't want their 'sheen' to lose it's luster. I'm just saying... 



Photo by Angela George

You know, this whole getting in shape thing is wreaking havoc on my face. This afternoon, zit number two. If this is the way it's going to go, then I'll stay flubbery and go back to nice skin. You  know, I can say, "well, I'm not fit, but my skin is clear." Right now all I can say is, "I'm fat, but my face is a mess."

Today was a long one. I got home around 8:30, changed clothes, kissed Hubs goodbye as he left for work, put the kids to bed, and jumped on the elliptical. Then a minutes worth of crunches, and an upper body circuit. Read some emails, looked at Twitter, opened FaceBook, and jumped to the blog.

I figure, I'm neglecting several things, but as long as I neglect them all equally, it's all good, right? Tomorrow will be late again and the kids will be home late. Maybe I'll skip the workout and spend some quality girl-time during the bed process. No they don't need (or probably want) tucked in, but it makes me feel good. Thursday, should be a better day and Friday's are always early.

So, I can make up some husband time, girl time, writing time, laundry time, ack! Plus I sing at church this weekend. I. NEED. A. VACATION! PRONTO!!! Life is definitely living me at the moment, which I hate. And let's go back to last night's blog about living your dreams. Seriously, I will make you a deal, Hollywood. Cast me in one movie. I'll play the cranky, fat, mother-in-law from Hades. Pay me one mil. You'll never hear from me again. I promise to take my money and run. Well, can I come to one Academy Awards just so I can wear a fancy dress and pretend that the star-studded life is normal?

Then, I will return to my middle-of-nowhere life, invest the money, pay off everything else, and use what I can to write a best seller about my brief brush with fame. See, I won't argue that I need twenty million for one picture (really, who needs 20 mil?). I'll be long gone. I won't pull a Charlie Sheen and go all psycho on you presumably waxed hind quarters (that's what you do in the land of fruits and nuts, right?)...I will be but a vague memory.

Oh wait, where was I? Exercise and the rest of my life. Maybe I will argue for money, La La Land...because if I made that kind of moolah, I could hire someone to whip me into shape in a much more enjoyable way. Maybe Maksim Chmerkovskiy will tango my butt off (literally). Oh yeah, I am living the dream right now! Gotta go. Goodnight. I'm just saying...

Have you ever wondered why some people get to live their dreams while others toil away writing blogs about, well, dreams? I was watching the 83rd Academy Awards last night, and let me just say first and foremost, *YAWN* Really, it was a big bag of boring.

Seriously, James Franco, kind of cute, but looked totally bored or aggravated or something. Anne Hathaway of the lovely dress variety? I could have lived without her shouting "woo" after every announcement. Let's introduce Hu Flung Dung..."woo!" Come on, you weren't that excited over that many people were you? Ugh!

But back to living dreams. Several of the nominees were multiple times nominated. What was it they said to Jeff Bridges, how about giving someone else a chance! And Hailey Steinfeld, I read the add for the role. Why couldn't my daughter have read for the part? I mean, why does she get to live her dream, and my girls don't?

And let's talk Gwyneth Paltrow. I think she has a great voice. Loved the Huey Lewis duet in the movie, "Duets." Her character on Glee? LOVE it.  Her version of "Forget You?" Sing it all the time. But WOW. Was completely not loving her last night. There were notes that have never been registered on any keyboard. Anywhere. Yes, I sing. No, I'm not Idina Menzel, but I am more than capable of recognizing someone singing flat, sharp, and something I can't quite put my finger on. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know it was live, but that doesn't make up for lousy.

So, here she is, Ms. Gwyneth, living the acting dream she has had forever and NOW getting to live a singing dream. Sort of like Tim McGraw crossing over from a singing dream to an acting dream. Let's add to that list. Faith Hill (please, never act again). Carrie Underwood (not sure about yet). Jennifer Hudson (give your boobs a break, please. And yeah, you can do both...I bow to you). Taylor Swift (maybe you should act instead of singing) And don't even get me started on famous spokesmodels. How about a "real" woman using the makeup to show that it works? Wouldn't that sell your product to real women, better? See that the girl next door uses it and enhances her beauty, so girl down the block wants to buy it? So many more to add, but will stop. I don't want to offend everyone at once.

Let's go back, though, to the original question. Wait, what was it? Oh yeah, why do some people get to live their dreams and others don't. I read once that stars were willing to starve for their craft. Hmm, I do love food. As a mother I can't allow my kids to go hungry either. Pretty sure since I'm not famous that I would be arrested for neglect. I don't live my writing dream because thus far, I haven't been able to make a living at it. Is someone trying to tell me something?

But my girls. Veronica (12), loves to dance, act, model, and ride horses. Isabella (10) wants to be a professional ballerina...and design clothes. Should they be penalized because we live in Illinois (no, not Chicago)...in a place where famous people aren't falling off trees. But how can a parent warrant packing up and moving off on the hopes that their child can make it? It's especially hard when you see all the whack jobs that come out of fame (hello, Charlie Sheen, anyone).

It seems some have won the genetic lottery (I'm pretty sure "Whip My Hair" is not going down as a classic like "Unchained Melody" and about any other song...ever, and "Karate Kid" remake? Well, he may be cute, but he's no Ralph Macchio), so let's not beat around the proverbial bush, the genetic lottery helped them get jobs. Period.

You know, I can't even finish this now, because I'm kind of ticked off. I want my genetic lottery card. And if I can't have one, can my kids at least get one? I'm just saying...

Let's take a little look-see at day two. Well, it started with a zit. Right there on my chin. I thought it was a mole, but no, a zit.  What am I? Thirteen? Didn't puberty and breakouts leave years ago? Well, I shouldn't complain since I've never had bad skin, but I definitely don't want to start now. Ugh!

Today didn't really go as planned. Worked (which totally got in the way of writing, Ha), picked up girlie-q's from school, brought them home to change for dance, and then took them to dance. Got gas, picked up some really unhealthy (according to "I Used to Be Fat" experts, and you know, the law of physics or some such) dinner in a box, got gas (in my car), and worked some crossword puzzles while waiting on them to finish.

Oh yeah, and I took the house payment to the bank. Hubs doesn't trust the mail (sorry Kenny) and since he worked a double shift, he was sleeping, so ahem, that left me. Got home, girls did homework, I cooked, we ate. Hubs was cranky, I was cranky, and it seemed like life in the Francis household.

But wait, it is "The Bachelor" night. While this is the first season I've ever watched this (seriously, I only started watching because of Jennifer Weiner and her snarky quips), but it is a blast. My twelve year old thinks he's completely cheesy and kind of icky. Her question tonight, "um, did they (enter purring sound) in the fantasy suite?" My response, "I'm not sure, but I'm pretty sure if he wanted to, she would of." Her: "Eww!!!" Ah, sweet innocence.

Oh wait, but did I work out? Why yes, thanks for asking, I sure did. Five minutes on the elliptical, have I mentioned it sucks? I did? Great. One minute of crunching, which my back didn't hate as much today. But I spent half of that time looking at my belly wondering if I could blame the bulge on a fixable hernia...or alien. Then I again worked an upper body circuit kind of thing. Yeah, I'm buff.

So while I will apparently never totally love working out (and even if I wanted to, it's hard with "mom, help me with math," "mom, is dinner about done,"), but I can feel good in knowing I'm trying to improve myself. I am even sitting here looking at my bag of Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs and haven't reached for one. Maybe because my shoulders hurt...you know, from working out. Isn't it supposed to make me feel better? Oh, it takes time? Well, time will tell, then, won't it? I'm just saying...

I appear to have the first day a lot. Hey, what can I say? I start, get bored, and before I know it, it's been a month and I've gained back several of the pounds I've lost. So what makes this different? I don't know. Probably a whole lot of nothing, but I do know a few things.

1. I am suddenly completely uncomfortable in my own skin. And I'm not talking about a self-esteem thing. I mean, literally, my skin feels icky from the excess weight.

2. I can no longer fit into most of my pants. And the ones that were loose? Um yeah, let's just not go there. I even had a shirt that last year was blousy, not a lot, but a bit. Well, you guessed it...it's not now. Let's not go picturing a skin tight, shirt rolling up my flubber image, it's just a tad snug.

3. I am not living my dreams. Let's be honest, I have a wonderful education and I am using it. At times I even feel like I'm doing a good job. But, a dream is a dream. And I have one. I'm pretty sure I deserve to chase it, too...right? I need to give it a full-force effort so I don't go meet my maker one day with a whole bunch of "what if's" in my head.  Yet, I do have dance and a cell phone bill to pay each month.  Let's not forget the astronomical gas prices either. So, I totally need to be able to find at least semi-steady writing work before I can leave the wonders of mental health.

So today, I reintroduced myself to the elliptical machine after a few days (weeks or months) off.  Believe it or not, I did five full minutes at a decent clip on it. Don't judge me, five minutes is like three days on the treadmill...right? Then I did one minutes worth of crunches. For some reason my back really argued with me on that.  Finally, I did a full circuit of upper body exercises. Let's see, rotor cuff clicking all the while. I thought I left my major league pitching career before destroying my shoulders...but apparently not.

I thought I'd post my weight so I could show each week my losses or gains. I figure with that, I'd at least be shamed into working out. But I found out, that I am just entirely too disgusted by myself to let you be too. Let's just say, I weigh a whole lot more than I did in high school. I think I graduated at about 100 pounds. Yeah, not seeing that again. Wouldn't even want to for that matter.

My goal is to lose twenty pounds, although I don't mind this weight if I just firm it up. You know how sometimes you can suck it in and look thin? Well, I can't do that any longer. So, firm it up, strap it up...and let the new me begin! I can't guarantee I will blog every day. I can't guarantee I'll work out every day or eat right all the time. But, I have to do something so I will feel better, look better, and in essence, be better.

I guess this is to say, I hope you join me on my journey. If you don't, oh well. If you do, I appreciate it. Don't forget to leave comments on here...it makes my blogs look better and certainly motivates me! You don't have to leave your real name. And remember, if you can't say anything nice...well then, you can't say anything nice! I'm just saying...

Have you ever been so afraid that you literally can't breathe?  Maybe it was a movie that scared the bejeebers out of you.  Possibly it was a gigantic spider crawling across your floor.  The reasons are too many to count.

But sometimes something happens, and literally, your world stops.  Your heart pounds so hard that you are sure it will jump out of your chest.  Your breaths come hard and fast, you become light headed, feeling like you could pass out or hyperventilate, or explode.

That is how I've felt since Saturday.  Why Saturday?  Because that is when my ten year old found a lump in her left breast.  And my first thought was that she doesn't even have a real breast yet, then I cried praying to God that she will be allowed to grow a breast.  That it is nothing.

And while logic tells me it is probably an infection or blocked duct or something, my panicky, "I've already buried a child" mommy mode goes into overdrive and I literally...feel...like...I...can't...breathe.  Please God, be with us as we go throught his.  Don't make my daughter, who is so beautiful and vivacious and full of life go through some horrible struggle.  And me?  I mean, if it's something bad, give it to me.  I can take it.  But not her.  I can't imagine going through a serious illness with her. 

She's only ten.  Please...so, if you are reading this, please say a prayer for her today...

I am sitting here wondering, should I go ahead and get ready for work or do I go back to bed for another couple of hours of sleep.  The girls school was cancelled and when I went outside to see if it was merely snow or some wintery mix, all I could say was that it appeared to just be a heavy snow, but it was super wet.  Make sense?

And let's just be honest, Tunnel Hill Road will NOT be touched by county road workers anytime soon (I'm sure they are still nestled deep under their covers), despite this being a fairly main road.  And with the hills and curves, I'm not sure I can make it to the much needed interstate to get to work.

Much longer of this and I won't be able to get off my road, making the need for a clear Tunnel Hill Road a moot point.  I realize when we moved out here to the black acres (we are much to far off the beaten path for it to be Green Acres) that our road wouldn't be touched, and while I feel strongly that they should at least maintain our road (not Hubs having to do it), the least they can do is keep the blacktop passable.  Ahh...the joys of living in the middle of nowhere (my house) in the middle of nowhere (between Goreville/Tunnel Hill).

I thought our office might have a delayed open, but since the schools in Marion are in session, I'm pretty sure our office won't close.  And while I can do some remote work, most of what I need to do has to be done in-office.  Plus, I have a home visit about an hour north of work.  Ack...I don't know what I should do.

So...I think I will slowly get ready for work.  Attempt to maneuver my two mile (one lane gravel) road, and get to the blacktop.  If I slip and slide, I will come home.  If I make it to the interstate, I'll go to work.  Seems reasonable to me!  I'm just saying...