“Time and tide wait for no man, but time always stands still for a woman of 30.”  -Robert Frost

I may be less than a day in, but I can say with confidence that I love my 30s. Today has been the best ever – breakfast with a full house of guests and sisters and friends, flower deliveries, coffee deliveries, furniture deliveries, good words, party prep, and messages from friends all over the world… including this:

Can you handle it? I can’t. I can’t handle it. I am the luckiest girl in the world, and don’t deserve the friends that I have – but will shamelessly and gratefully take every minute that they give me.

I wish I could tell you how loved I feel today, but I just can’t.  It’s the best day.  My heart is bursting.  I am overwhelmed and thankful and happy, and I just want time to stand still.

Thank you, dear readers – near and far, known and unknown – for being a part of my life.

After a whirlwind game of “drive to Texas as fast as you can,” I’m back in Colorado today.

A few things of note:
- I drove the world’s nicest Penske truck.  It had a CD player, and an icy cold air conditioner.  It accelerated on the up-hills, and hugged the turns like it wanted to be more than friends.

The only lame thing was that it didn’t have cruise control.  When I asked the man at the rental desk about it, he suggested I “find a broom, snap off the handle, and wedge that son of a bitch to the floor” – the “son of a bitch” being the pedal, obviously.  And I laughed out loud.  Because a grizzly old man saying “son of a bitch” is enough to do me in.  I’m easy that way.

- I made a video – mostly out of boredom, until I realized that making a video was getting boring, too.  So soak up these 76 seconds.

- All of my dad’s stuff was successfully delivered, unloaded, and arranged in his new home.  I am now considering a new career in professional moving.  The industry is surely short on a vixen.

- I had the “Mr. Pink” at Torchy’s.  Fish tacos are the way to my heart.

- And finally, I just thought you would like to know that when I woke up on Sunday morning, I needed to get to church, but my dad had already left. So I drove the Penske. To church. In red heels. ROCKED IT.

Happy July 1st, my sweet and patient friends.

Come on.  You knew I’d have a video.

As you can tell, I needed a little bit of breathing room in June.  Things have been heavy and confusing and stressful, and I didn’t want to spew my emotional guts all over your internet each day (that would have been rude and, most likely, vile).

So I took the month to just hunker down.

But now?  Now, I am GIRDING UP MY LOINS.

July is shaping up to be quite a month, what with a skunk on the loose in my new neighborhood, spraying innocent bystanders and all.  Other upcoming events of note: the grand opening of Denver’s Ikea, a 900 mile drive in a Penske truck, more mountains, and who knows?  Maybe even a haircut.

Have a great holiday weekend – and if you just can’t wait one more second to hear about baby Zion – my new nephew! – click on over to read his story.  I am so in love with this boy already, and can’t wait to snuggle him.

The LÄRABAR weekend has come and gone – and all I can say is that I want to go back to the land of palm trees and free samples.

It was amazing.  Basically the greatest ever.

Want to hear one of the (many) LÄRABAR songs we sang (many times)?  Here you go.

We spent the morning in the sunshine, right by the entrance to the convention center, welcoming 56,000 attendees with songs about LÄRABAR.  In the afternoon, we moved inside to the brand booth (one of 3,000), and in between sets, would run around like (free range) chickens with our (happy, healthy) heads cut off, eating as many natural food samples as we could.  Some were amazing, some just needed some gluten or meat or something.

Here were a few of my favorite finds:
Alexia: Spicy Sweet Potato Fries
Svelte: Cappuccino protein drink
Redwood Hill Farm: Smoked Goat Milk Cheddar Cheese

And of course, when it comes to LÄRABAR, I am a humongous fan of:
Blueberry Muffin
Cashew Cookie
Cherry Pie

The highlight of the weekend was singing LÄRABAR songs to Lara herself.  The other highlight was meeting David, the inventor of Cocoa Môlé (I am his biggest fan).  The other highlight was being within arm’s reach of Fabio. The other highlight was when Matt, suddenly possessed with the theme of “natural foods,” accidentally said that our return flight was routed through “Las Vegan.”

The LÄRABAR team was a dream to work with, and I’m so thankful to have had the opportunity (and the new friends).  This will go down as one of those big surprise gifts in my life – something I never could have planned, but am so glad that it happened.

Don’t mind if I do.

And in case you think I’m a fraud because I’ve said I’m not training anymore, I ran 5 miles on the treadmill last night, and 7 outside on Saturday.  So, see?  I’m still doing my thang (although last year at this time, I was running 12 miles, so YES I KNOWWWW).

East Nasty really is something special.  If you live in Nashville and are a runner – or have any interest in becoming a runner – these are some of the greatest folks you could ever meet and run with.  They meet on Wednesday nights at 6pm on the corner of 11th & Holly in East Nashville – I think you should go.  Tell them Booty Girl sent you.

As inspired by this man…

… we’ve been working on our dance moves:

Double Dream Girls from Annie Parsons on Vimeo.

The best moments are at 2:05 (“point your hand over there!”), 2:42 (“butterfly!”), 2:47 (“freestyle!”), and 2:52 (Becca’s amazing punch).

The best Lärabar that ever existed was Cocoa Môlé – but earlier this fall, they retired the flavor, so I gnashed my teeth and tore my sackcloth.

But late on Friday afternoon, Miranda pointed me toward an announcement on their Facebook wall:

We just uncovered 35 boxes of Cocoa Môlé (16 bars/box). It’s the last of the stash and everyone here agrees that we should give them away. Since we only have a small amount, we’re asking that you share with us an ‘Ode to Môlé’ – a video, a song, an illustration, something that demonstrates how deeply you care for that lovable Cocoa Môlé. Good luck!

So on Saturday, I wrote a little song.

And yesterday at work, Miles and I made a little video.

Behold:

I hope “Holy Môlé” is stuck in your head all day long.  And I really, really hope they send me a box.

I’m baaaaaack…

I missed you.  I missed blogging.  Blogging is the only fool-proof way to make sure that someone pays attention to me every day.

Just kidding!  People pay attention to me when I steal, too.

I made a video, but I’ve been having technological troubles of the worst degree, so it’s fuzzy.  Sorry.  My only piece of advice is that for best results, you should probably STAND BACK.

(Song: “Too Late” by Emily DeLoach)

Living Proof from Annie Parsons on Vimeo.

As we waited for the sun to sink in the west, 4-year old Kate asked me why the fireworks hadn’t started yet.

“Because,” I explained, “the sky is still light.  The sun needs to travel all the way to California before it will be dark.”

I felt proud of my explanation – until little Annabelle piped up, “I thought the EARTH turned.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I was owned by a 6-year old.

For the rest of the details of my holiday weekend, watch this:

This Land from Annie Parsons on Vimeo.

My friend Fred Wilhelm writes great songs.  I talked to him a few months back, and told him that some of my happiest moments of the past year were the times that I heard him play this one:

I mean, seriously?  That is just the coolest.  I hope this isn’t sacrilegious, but when I hear him play this song, it feels like church.  “I’m here today ’cause that brave woman begot me” – I want to shout hallelujah.

I’m thinking about my own family today – how we have our own unique story, one that keeps progressing and morphing with time, for better and for worse, each of us changing and becoming and growing into whoever it is that we are, whoever it is that we were created to be.  We are equal parts comedy and tragedy – and a total gong show, at times.  We are far, far from perfection, but still, “when I’m with ‘em, it’s like Thanksgiving.”

Today, my littlest sister Sarah is moving to Haiti. At 22-years old (and more mature than the other three of us kids put together – no offense, Jeremy and Becca, I know you agree), she bought a one-way ticket, and is moving to one of the poorest countries in the world to do a little good.  Those of us who know her know that she will do more than “a little” good, and while we will miss her terribly, can’t put into words how proud we are of her.

If I ever wrote a song about my family, today would be an important line.