I know that I've receive awards on blogs before, and I love that some of you have liked what I've had to say enough to give me awards. But I'm terrible at passing them along. I know this, and I'm very sorry for this. It isn't that I don't want to pass the award, it's just that I never can DECIDE who to pass them to. I'm terribly indecisive, and so many of you have touched my life in so many ways, that it doesn't fair to choose just some of you for an award, but not others.

That said, this week, Christie gave me an Inspirational Blogger Award this week. An award that she created herself. She also passed it to Brooke, who also gave me kudos in her "acceptance post".

Ladies, thank you so much for thinking of me when you think about who inspires you. Christie, you are one of my heroes. Seriously, you make me want to want to do triathlons. (Nope. Not getting roped in yet.) Brooke, it has been a real pleasure helping you get to your goal weight. You are THE BEST student a person can ask for, and you've helped me learn even more by teaching you. You both are awesome and inspire me to be a healthier and better person each and every day.

It's funny where we find inspiration. It can be something as simple as a picture someone takes, or a sentence one writes (or an entire blog post), or just the way person treats you in every day life.

For so many of us, the things that inspire us, help build us into what we are today. If I had never watched the Biggest Loser, I wouldn't have been inspired by Jillian Michaels and the others on that show. I may never have been inspired to change my life physically and may never have lost 62 lbs. If I had never signed up for MySpace (I KNOW.), then I may never have re-connected with Jessie. I may never have been inspired to fix my soul.

And as funny as this sounds, even our bad experiences can inspire us. If I hadn't gotten mixed up with the wrong people in my early 20's, then, I may never have been inspired to not be like them.

With every thing I do now, every way I am is the cause of some sort of inspiration. When I think of that, I think of how very lucky that I am.

Now, comes to the part where I have to decide who inspires me, right? I seriously can't. I know that I've met some of you face to face and many I haven't, but really, if we've spent any time getting to know each other, you are my friend, and every single one of you inspires me in some way. Every single one of you has touched my life in some way. You all make me a better person, and I honestly, can't thank you enough.

Also, I'd like to thank the Academy. ;o)

While it makes me sad to hear of Patrick Swayze's passing, I'm not normally one to blog about celebrities or to give them tributes on my blog. I'm not going to sit here and tell you that he was my favorite. Because he wasn't. I'm not going to sit here and tell you how shitty cancer is. Because we all know it is.

I'm going to tell you about the first time I saw Dirty Dancing. It's a funny little story, and I'm sure that Mr. Swayze would get a kick out of it.

Let's rewind to the late 1980's. We were at my grandparents' house for the weekend. We did that often back then. My mom and my aunt decided that they wanted to see Dirty Dancing, and the theater in town was playing it.

Problem. My brother and I had to go, too. (How long ago was that movie released? I'm 31, my brother's 27. Let's think...how old were we? Right.) I'm not sure what they were thinking a movie called Dirty Dancing was going to be about, but they called the theater and found that there was no nudity, it was PG-13, so how bad could it be? Right?

So, my mom and aunt load my brother up with popcorn and candy (the perfect bribe for taking a kid to a non-cartoon movie), picked our seats in the theater with duct tape covering the holes in the seats, and we were going to watch Dirty Dancing.

All was going great, and then...

Baby follows what's his name to where all of the employees are hanging out. Know which scene, right?

So, all of a sudden right in front of me was a bunch of people, well, um, dirty dancing. My mom and aunt gasped, my mouth dropped to my seat, my brother yelled "EW GROSS!" and hids his face in the seat...

Oh, the questions that my brother asked after that movie, then declared HE was never getting married or kissing a girl or none of that gross stuff. RIGHT.

So, I'm headed to a tailgate bright and early in the morning to watch the Virginia Tech Hokies take on Marshall!! And all I can say is THANK GOODNESS football season is HERE!!


What you may not know is that I didn't always love the Hokies. Wanna know how I became a Hokie? Visit over here!!

Peace!

It's clear to me after my last post that I need to clarify something about my feelings on hugs.

Yes. I'm not a huge hugger. I don't like people that I don't know touching me. In fact, if I'm feeling uncomfortable, and someone I don't know touches me, and you're paying close enough attention, you can see me cringe.

Part of this is from something that happened to me a very long time ago, and I do not wish to discuss that, but also, I come from a family that is not overly affectionate. Hugs often come with pats on the back. And not only that, we're not huge on telling each other how we feel. In fact, I can count on one hand how many times I know of my dad telling me he loves me.

Please don't go saying, "that's so sad." I know. But that's just how we are. That's how they were raised, so it is what it is. I know they love me. And with them, that's enough.

But, I recently discovered how much I love hugs. How much I love saying, "I love you." How much I need it. But to force something like that on my family feels weird and just wrong. So, I've turned to my friends for that.

If I have spent any amount of time talking to you, and if we have become friends, hugs are a requirement. In fact, I love them so much, I give huge hugs. Especially if I know we're not going to see each other for a while. And don't be surprised if I throw out an "I love you." I realize that is a huge request to lay upon my friends, and I pray they don't mind.

So, that is me on hugs. Now, can I get a hug?

I'm sitting here on my front porch this amazingly beautiful Sunday morning, and I've been reminded of something...

My great, great aunt Jack (short for Jacqueline). Aunt Jack used to scare me somewhat. Some of you who have met me may have noticed that I can be a bit reserved. Aunt Jack required hugs, which was a bummer to me because I wasn't keen on hugs. (Hugs are something I've only recently discovered that I love.)

Now, of course, I wish I had hugged her more.

See, Aunt Jack had lupus. She lost a leg and an eye to that horrible disease. She was constantly sick, but every morning, she would say, "I'm alive, and that's what matters." She seriously, had the best attitude. I never saw her upset. There was always a smile on her face, even if she was lying on a hospital bed.

Why don't more of us take this attitude? I'm the first to admit I'm guilty of complaining and getting down when life seems to take a dump on me. And isn't that kind of sad?

I mean seriously. No matter what happens in our lives, no matter how hard life seems to get, we are ALIVE. And life is such a beautiful thing. Why do we waste energy worrying with the bad stuff, when there are so many good things surrounding us. There are so many things we should be enjoying, loving, and experiencing.

I know that it's going to be hard not to focus on the bad things in life. I don't know about you, but the bad things always seem to run in groups, usually 3's. When the bad things happen one right after the other, it's so hard not to throw your hands in the air and say, "screw it." But I'm making a promise to myself and you to try. Because I'm alive.

So, as I sit here on my front porch, feeling the wind against my face, listening to my wind chimes and the dog barking down the street, and watching a morning dove scuttle around my yard, I'm going to enjoy life today.

And Aunt Jack would be proud.