Well I have had some serious posts recently so I figured I would lighten it up a bit.

First of all, who saw Scrubs last night? Seriously! I am so glad it is back on the air. The first episode of the evening wasn't all that great, but the second was phenomenal. And mad props to my brother for catching the coincidence of the episode subject and my previous blog on death. Crazy. I think someone at Scrubs is reading my blogs and coming up with shows really quickly afterward. If you are out there...I know you are there!

If you missed this show, you can catch the full episode here. Great job capturing the universal fear of death. Hmm...it was good.

Second bit of light-heartedness. I am going to kill Paris Hilton. Now I know that isn't particularity light-hearted nor am I the first one who has said this. But I bet I am the only with my reason.

I was listening to WSB-sister-station 95.5 The Beat this morning on the 5-minute drive to the office and they were talking about some ground breaking piece of important news: Paris Hilton thinks she will be ready to have children in 2 years or so.

But here's the worst part: she is going to name her first girl London.

Ever since watching the Seinfeld episode where George wants to name his daughter Seven - I decided I was going to name my daughters Paris and Sydney - after my two favorite cities. Mind you this was circa 2000.

But then in 2003, Paris Hilton becomes famous because she doinked some genius from New Jersey that somehow let the tape get on the internet. Lesson to all you young ladies out there: if you are going to make a sex tape, make sure you keep it.

Thus my plan of naming my daughter Paris is completely thwarted. And even though I am sure Paris will die of syphilis before I have a daughter, I still won't be able to name my daughter Paris.

But now this! She is going to name her kid London. That is like one step away from Sydney. Who is to say she won't name her second daughter Sydney - thus one woman will have essentially ruined both the names I wanted for my kids.

I guess I am going to have to marry Nicky Hilton (she's the cuter one anyway) and then we'll pop out a kid before Paris can and thus I will get my revenge! Yeah...that's the plan...I'll work on that one for a bit.

If you knew your death was imminent - like within minutes - and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it, what do you think you would do?

Would you freak out?

Would you pray? Especially for forgiveness?

Would you try and call loved ones? Which ones?

What if you couldn't contact anyone?

For some reason I think about this when I fly. Not with any morbid panic, "we're all going to die" mindset. But just in a subdued fact of reality that it could happen.

I know what I would do. I would grab the iPhone and pull up I Can Only Imagine. I am not usually a big fan of Christian music, but I Can Only Imagine is great simply because it has no answers, just one open-ended statement-question: I Can Only Imagine?



If I had an extra couple of minutes I would probably pull up one more: Brooke White's performance of Let It Be on American Idol. I often listen to this after I have had a really bad day. It is incredibly calming.

.

Other close contenders were Come What May the Moulin Rouge version and Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World.

I think I would also try and get off one quick text message - hoping that I would get cell coverage before impact. It would probably go to Allen - strange I know - but I don't know anyone who empathetically, but helpfully breaks bad news to people better than him.

It would read:
Going down. All is well. Tell all I love them, not to be angry, and to keep living life to the fullest

It wouldn't be long, and I wouldn't send out more than one. I'd get that off, sit back, and let the moment of worship take me into eternity - whatever that may be.

I don't really know why I blogged about this today. Maybe it was last night's show. It just came to my mind for some reason and I figured I would share. That's what I would hope for in my final moments, what do you think you would do?

We are on our final Women We Love - Andy Trip Edition and I saved the most intriguing for last: Angela.

But before I get into that, you need to watch this Seinfeld clip.


I like where Jerry is going with this, but personally I would go up a few percentage points. I'd go as far as to say that 99.5% of women - and maybe 99.9% of people are undateable. Thus 5 in every 1,000 women I meet might be dateable.

Now I am not one of those Christians that thinks there is only one person out there for me, but I do feel the pool is pretty limited (for an example as to why read this and the comments).

Thus my frustration in dating. I'd probably be more inclined to believe Jerry if faith weren't as important of a factor. But it is, which rules out a lot of people I would for any other reason like to date.

But what does this have to do with Angela?

Angela is the only person I have ever met that isn't a compromise in any area. Does this mean she is perfect, of course not. But regarding the - say five - major traits that are important to me in dating, nothing is compromised. She is the Stolen girl I blogged about at the beginning of the year.

So needless to say, when I realized she was leaving Los Angeles and going to be in Lexington for Christmas, I diverted my normal route to Fort Wayne through Louisville, and pushed my departure back a day to have dinner.

Amidst our conversation at Chedder's (her pick) about poverty alleviation, and core theology related to ministry, and growing up with similar family situations, and preaching sermons, she includes, "I can tell you'd be really fun to have sex with." In interest of brevity I'll leave her reasoning out.

Now I don't think there is a man in this world that wouldn't want to hear that - for obvious reasons. But there is a less obvious, additional reason why I loved the above statement.

Let's just assume for one minute that a lot of women think this (big assumption). And let's just assume that out of those women, some of them have a deep faith (also probably a big assumption). What I love about Angela is that she didn't just think it; she said it.

It is no secret that I have a tendency to put my foot in my mouth. This comes from basically saying what I think...all...the...time. And while there are many of my qualities I find annoying when other people have them (which probably means I am annoying), this isn't one of them.

I'd take someone who just says what they think, and on the rare occasion offend, than just thinking stuff and holding it in until it was "safe" to say any day. This whole blog (particularly this post) is evidence of that.

Thus a year later and the Stolen girl remains the Stolen girl thanks to a once-a-year meal in Lexington, KY.

It has been another long day. Up around 8 when Jadyn gets up after a night of minimal sleep due to Asher not sleeping through the night. The next 14 hours are spent non-stop taking care of the kids and tending to the new house.

She walks down the stairs after a very long process of putting Jadyn to bed - as breathtakingly beautiful and sexy as she was before popping out two kids - and instead of passing out on the couch next to her lazy husband and her lazy husband's lazy friend, she looks at CJ and I and asks, "would you guys like fruit smoothies."

This is Andrea. She is amazing. And she more than anyone deserves to be a woman we love.

More on this later...

I once went to a church service that had a silhouetted drama skit of two scenes: a groom with his best man and a bride with her maid of honor. The skit was about conflicting expectations after marriage.

It became painfully obvious the antagonist in this story was the best man - mainly due to the new wife's low opinion of her new husband's best friend. I remember nothing else from the service but one single thought: "man am I glad Andrea is as cool as she is."

It is one thing to have a best friend in life as cool as CJ. It is quite another to have my best friend's wife be my second best friend.

She works at least twice as hard as I do - and complains half as much.

She is more patient and nurturing with her kids than anyone I have ever known.

She unconditionally loves and respects her husband - even when he doesn't deserve it.

She lets her husband's best friend spend weeks at her house, including over their anniversary, with out blinking an eye.

Simply put she is the most wonderful woman I know.

Some may look at this and think it isn't very feminist, but I would argue she is a perfect model of feminism because she is living the life she set out to live.

I don't feel that it has to be a woman's place to stay home and raise the kids. And even though I have spent most of my 20-something existence making financial decisions that will hopefully enable my wife to stay at home if that is what she wants, I also have no problem if pursuing a career is something that is important to her.

But feminism is about choice. This gets forgotten. It isn't doing about what is expected - albeit a career or homemaker. It is about knowing what one wants in life and not having anyone prevent that. Andrea knew what she wanted out of life, and is phenomenal at it.

I have (probably mistakenly) told more than one girlfriend that I don't really care what my mom thinks of you, it's Andrea who you really have to be worried about. She is with out a shadow of a doubt Supermom and Superwife and definitely a woman I love.

The second in the Women We Love - Andy's Trip Edition isn't a woman at all, but a beautiful young girl: Jadyn.

Since Jadyn graced our lives over three years ago she has changed my outlook on life so much - and she isn't even my kid.

For the past 8 days Jadyn has been my alarm clock. And if waking up to a beautiful woman who I get to sleep with is the best way to wake up, waking up with a beautiful young girl saying, "come on Uncle Andy, let's get up and play" has got to be an extremely close second.

The usual morning routine involves playing a quick game of hide and go seek, which transitions into a game of tag, and then ends with some version of dolls in her bright pink room.

The other day after tag, she was getting out her dolls and I decided to try and steal a quick moment to check the iPhone for email - which is usually literally the first thing I do in the morning (before even getting out of bed).

But as she sits down by me with dolls in hand, she looks up and sees me checking the iPhone.

She responds, in the sweetest little girl voice, "Uncle Andy, can you not check your email right now and just watch me play."

I respond, "Of course."

As I sat and watched her play, I thought to myself how important - regardless of age - it is to have people who are there just to watch us play. And sure, as we get older, "play" becomes a bit different. Play becomes work. Play becomes being a husband or wife. Play becomes raising a family. Play becomes serving our community. Play becomes a whole slue of things.

But we all need support in the things we do. We need people in our lives that essentially "watch" what we do and give us the encouragement and support that we are valuable and what we are doing is valuable.

Jadyn will grow from a young girl I love, to a young woman I love, and finally to a woman I love. And I will always be there to watch her play - no matter what that play entails. And I am grateful for those who have and continue to watch me.

Now back to playing dolls...

I love coming home to Indiana for vacation. I have great friends in CJ & Andrea that feel like family (more on that later this week). I get along better with my real family now more than I ever have, and I truly enjoy spending time with them.

But one thing I have really grown to love is the "once-a-year" meals I share with people I don't get to see very often. The conversation is always intriguing; hearing all about what has happened in the time apart. Seeing how we have grown to who we are today, compared to where we were the last time we talked.

And, since by some natural law of the universe that states I am only allowed to have one guy friend in any given region, these conversations are usually with women (hence the mini-blog series). This Christmas I met up with a long-time-ago exgirlfriend named Ashley.

I hadn't talked to Ashley in over 8 years. The last time I saw her was at least senior year of high school. She was a cheerleader in high school, but incredibly intelligent. She went on to Purdue and eventually took a job in engineering.

We had "talked" a few times on Facebook this year about various things, and so decided to get together for lunch over Christmas.

Ashley has grown into an incredibly beautiful, successful, and talented engineer at a large cooperation in Kentucky. And our conversation seemed to end too quickly.

But you want to know what I loved most about our lunch at Yen Ching? Well...I can't tell you.

Now I know Erik is probably thinking up some salacious reason as to why I can't tell you, but that isn't it. Really, I can't tell you because most wouldn't understand. I would come off even more conceited than I actually am.

So if I can't really tell you, why blog about it? Because we all need people in our lives that "get" where we are at. We need people - who sometimes may not have been really close friends - but who understand what is great about our current place in life, while at the same time understand the struggles and insecurities that come with it.

Ashley gets what it is like to be the youngest person by 20 years in meetings. She gets what it is like moving away to a town where you know no one in pursuit of career aspirations. She gets what it is like owning a home in the burbs while the rest of the 20-somethings live in the city.

It is a similar reason as to why I love CJ as much as I do. We get each other.

In January I mentioned the Duke University study that states Americans have fewer friends and confidants than they did 30 years ago. I have been blessed to have some amazing friendships. And the lunches like the one I shared with Ashley are what keep me from going nuts.

I know I have been awful at blogging recently, but I took a break. I have had a wonderful time up in Indiana and still have another 5 days or so.

Hanging out with CJ & Andrea is always a blast. I am the only person I know who wakes up at 11 am for work most days, but on vacation gets up at 9 and is generally exhausted all day. But I love it. Nothing like being woken up by a beautiful girl, even if she is only three.

Some of the cutest things Jadyn has said this trip:

• Uncle Andy, can you wear your hat? You look cool.
• Can we play hide and go seek? ... (1 minute later before she counts to 10) ... ok you go hide in the closet ... (don't think she quite gets the concept of hide and go seek)
• Can you not check your email and just watch me play?

And not to leave the Ash-man out of things. I figured I'd post of video of Asher and I. He can't rollover yet, but I swear I am going to see him walking before I leave on Saturday. His legs are crazy strong - as you can tell by the video. Be sure to wait for the end.


Between being spit up on all week and the fumes from the midget racing inside the Memorial Coliseum, I pretty much have smelled this entire week.

Well that's some fun stuff for now. I am going to blog later on this week about four of my favorite women of the trip - which include one of the Stolen girls, an exgirlfriend I haven't talked to since senior year of high school, and of course, Andrea and Jadyn. Think of it my own version of Esquire's "Women We Love."

I was the Editor-in-Chief of my high school yearbook. I know, über-nerdy right? I wasn't very good at it to be honest. The yearbook was a finalist for a prestigous national award, so it was designed well and the final product was nice (and late), but my overall ability to lead the staff was an utter failure. I made many, many mistakes.

But one thing we were good at: debating. Didn't matter the topic. I had a staff full of women - including one exgirlfriend and a few other very close friends of another exgirlfriend - and one very quiet man. Needless to say, many times it was me versus them all (with the man abstaining).

As Christmas approached, one day the topic of Santa Claus came up. I made the statement that I was not going to tell my kids there was a Santa Claus.

Ohhh....my....gosh! You would have thought I said I will let my kids spend the night with Michael Jackson and Christopher Walken.

I got accused of not fostering a creative environment for my kids.

I got accused of ruining Christmas for all my friends kids.

I got accused of not letting my kids enjoy being kids.

I know how the pictured Santa felt a bit.

But no, just a simple desire not to ever set a precedent of lying to my kids was my motive.

Now I will freely admit that this was right at the height of my extreme "conservative" stage - one many of my current friends won't believe I ever went through. But even with the loosening of my perspective on many things, I still feel I won't tell them there is a Santa.

I think there is already so much pressure from culture to redefine what Christmas is all about. It becomes about the presents, or about family, or about giving, or about joyfulness. And while none of those are per se bad, it isn't really what the season is about at its core.

But it goes beyond this. I know one of my greatest strengths, but also greatest weakness, is that I try to live be a mantra of honesty above all. And while that sometimes means I am not as compassionate and caring as I should be, I do believe that you can rarely go wrong with telling the truth.

I think this becomes all the more important with children. There is already such an innate skepticism with kids as they grow up towards their parents. Why feed into that? Not just with Santa, but in all areas of life.

Apparently I am not the only one. Carl Honoré wrote an article titled "Well, Virginia, It's a Longer Story..." about the "Great-Santa Debate" in a recent article in the Washington Post. But then of course, you have all those wonderful Macy's commercials with the comforting confirmation of Santa's existence from the likes of Martha Stewart and Donald Trump.

So what do you think? How were you raised? How are you raising (or planning on raising) your kids?

We've had some pretty heavy posts so I am going to lighten it up.

One thing that annoys the crap out of me when pulling clips from Comedy Central for the show is the they play an ad spot before every single video.

The most annoying? Blackberry. We ge-e-e-et it. You have a phone that is almost as cool as an iPhone. They currently have three different versions that rotate in the cue.

But one of them I think has my identical voice twin - you know like in the Friends episode where Joey finds his identical hand twin. You've probably seen it on TV a half a billion times but go ahead and take another watch:



Now listen to a version I recorded of myself (with no alterations):





See. Ok, so I know I don't hit "Life" quite right - but I think that has more to do with my poor VO ability than the voice itself.

Somewhere out there (probably New York or LA) there is a guy out there with my identical voice. Ohh how I hope one day we can meet and have conversation where we aren't really sure which one is talking.

I recently had AT&T U-verse installed at the home. Thus far, way better than Comcast. But last Friday after it was installed, I was checking out the new features and was flipping through the channels when Julia Stiles graced my screen.

I love Julia Stiles. Now I'll be the first to admit many think she isn't that great of an actress. I'll also acknowledge that some do not find her all that attractive. But I don't care. I am not sure what it is about her, maybe her Scandinavian-vibe (even though she isn't), but I'll watch just about anything she is in.

• 10 Things I Hate About You
• Save the Last Dance
• The Omen
• All the Bourne movies

You are probably now questioning my sexuality (which would not be valid) - as well as questioning my taste in movies (which would probably be valid).

But I had never seen the movie that was on my TV screen, so I watched it. Later I learned it was called The Prince & Me. A classic, chick-porn story of a college pre-med student who unknowingly falls in love with the Prince of Denmark. Of course. Happens all the time, right?

The movie was alright, but it was this scene that made watching the movie worth it.



What do you know now that you wish you would have known 10 years ago?

We had John Izzo on the show back in June and he talked about his new book The Five Secrets You Must Discover Before You Die.

One thing he said that hit me really hard is that most of the people he interviewed for the book said they wish they had taken more risks in their life. Few regretted risks they took that failed, but many regretted not taking risks at all.

I have thought about this a lot over the past six months.

I usually consider myself a risk taker. I certainly have taken risks professionally. I even took perceived risks in education and travel (i.e. studying abroad in the middle east, flying immediately after 9/11, etc...). Learning to fly is a risk. Many would say my driving style is a risk.

I am less inclined to take risks when it comes to the interpersonal side of life. I am not really sure why that is.

The older I get the more I realize how much you don't get opportunity back. Cliché I know. But true nonetheless. It is one of the most depressing things I find about age. And while most of the time, I take the risk and it pays off, my mind still draws to occasions where I failed to do so. I'd give almost anything to do it over again.

Izzo and his people were right. As the proverbial clock that is life counts down, I think less about my failures and more about the risks that weren't taken - the opportunities missed. I am just hoping this realization at the beginning proves valuable by the end.