the beautiful due

Dear Lance,
I don’t know if this will reach you, but I hope it will somehow. I wanted to let you know I’ve been praying for you lately; not anything elaborate or wordy, mainly just Lord, help Lance. I’m sure I don’t know the half of what you’re going through. Was it disappointing to hear all the revelations? Sure. I remember well the final stages of those tours…you flew like Icarus…man, it was something to behold. Are those memories tainted now? I guess, although its hard to say that with certainty…they were magic.
I’m writing to say I believe in you. I realize many do not right now and may not ever again. But I believe that anyone and any story can be redeemed, and that includes you and yours. In a religious word what I’m talking about is grace. That word gets bandied about or butchered and usually…

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The Domestic Rebel


Oh mylanta. What have I done?

If I’m not mistaken, that’s a ball of cookie dough surrounded by a fudgy brownie and then coated in chocolate and sprinkled with mini chips.


Sometimes, I don’t even know WHERE half my ideas come from. I literally operate like a mad scientist part of the time, throwing things together with my fingers crossed, hoping it’ll work. Sometimes it does, like in this instance. Other times, like when I tried to put Jello mix into prepackaged sugar cookie dough and it tastes like a chalky version of Play-Doh and I stared at Pinterest like all disappointed because it let me down with those tempting Jello-cookie recipes that taste like poop, it doesn’t.

Most days, you can find me scatterbrained and roaming the grocery store like a complete looney tune. I’d love to see the surveillance footage of me wandering aimlessly between the candy…

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