The Southern Girl's Guide

On the Way to My Wedding....

2008-02-06T07:29:00.000-08:00

Check out this story from Auckland, New Zealand (my sister's home, along with her Kiwi husband). It's a very inspiring story of 'bridal justice in action':

Woman in Wedding Gown Chases Drunk Driver

AUCKLAND, New Zealand, Feb. 5 (UPI) -- An Auckland, New Zealand, bride in her wedding gown chased a drunk driver when he attempted to flee the scene of a collision on foot, a report said.

Rhiannon Mabbett said she and her new husband, Jeff, were being driven to a hotel in a friend's car when another vehicle rear-ended them at a traffic light, The Dominion Post reported Tuesday.

"We pulled around the corner, and my mate (the driver) got out of the car and asked the guy where his license was," she said. "The guy was too drunk, and all he could really say was, `I'm a criminal, I'll pay you now."'

She said the man tried to drive off as she phoned the police."He tried to drive forward -- and ran over my wedding dress, the prat," Mabbett said.

She said the drunken driver started fleeing on foot, and she pursued him while still wearing her full wedding gown. "He decided to walk off. The cops told me to follow him, so I followed him. And then he started running, so I started running after him in my wedding dress, up the street," she said.

Mabbett followed the man to a dark alley, where police arrested him. The man was charged with driving while under the influence of alcohol and driving while disqualified.

Hey, somebody really should have told that guy...NEVER MESS WITH A WOMAN'S WEDDING DRESS!!!!

Am I right? Go, brides!

With Southern love,
Annabelle
http://www.southerngirlsguide.com/

A Valentine's Love Letter

2008-02-05T10:48:00.000-08:00

This one, I could not resist posting (with a little editing)....

To my darling husband,

Before you return from your business trip, I wanted to let you know about the tiny accident I had with the pickup truck when I turned into the driveway.

Fortunately, it wasn't too bad, and I didn't get hurt, so please don't worry too much about me. Coming home from Wal-Mart, when I turned into the driveway, I accidentally pushed down on the accelerator instead of the brake.

The garage door is slightly bent, but fortunately, the truck came to a halt when it bumped into your car.

I am really sorry, but I know that with your kind-hearted personality, you will forgive me. You know how much I love you and care for you, my sweetheart. I can't wait to hold you in my arms again.

Here is a picture of the accident.

XXXOOO,

Your loving wife

P.S. Your girlfriend called.

Here's wishing everyone a (much) better Valentine's Day than this sassy Southern Girl!

With Southern love,

Annabelle

http://www.southerngirlsguide.com/

Pamela Anderson to Divorce...Again

2007-12-18T20:37:00.000-08:00

In a startling turn of events, Pamela Anderson (seen here doing a Britney while he grabs his crotch) has filed for divorce from her third husband.

Shocking but true, the two porn stars are at odds with one another, only two months after their October 6 quickie wedding in Vegas. Recent reports say that they are "trying to work things out."

Anderson, who has two children from first husband, Motley Krue drummer Tommy Lee, once starred in a sex tape made with Lee, which was widely circulated on the Internet. She married her second husband, singer Kid Rock, no less than four times before they divorced. Anderson then fell in love with Vegas magician Hans Klok, after she became part of his act.

But before the 40-year-old could walk down that little aisle in a bikini, she met Rick "I also made a sex tape" Salomon. Twice divorced (from actresses Shannon Doherty and Elizabeth Daily), Salomon, 38, is now a professional poker player. Not to be outdone, his sexual antics with Paris Hilton made the Internet rounds awhile back.

Apparently, what happens in Vegas does indeed stay in Vegas, however. When Anderson was unable to pay off her gambling debts, white knight Salomon stepped in.

"I paid off a poker debt with sexual favors, and I fell in love," she said. "It's so romantic."

Oh, yes. Truly.

Forget walking in the rain, snuggling by the fire, kissing on the sun-drenched sands of Antigua, honey. Forget flying cross country to surprise the one you love. Forget Paris. Because, when it comes to romance, my dream is to prostitute myself and fall in love with my john.

How about you?

With Southern love,

Annabelle

http://www.southerngirlsguide.com/

Sorry, Luv. You Can't Get Married. Try Again Next Week

2007-12-17T11:35:00.000-08:00

Anne Campbell, 37, and Sam Gilford, 34, were in love. So after a wonderful courtship,they got engaged. The pair dreamed of a destination wedding. So they set the date for November 15 and booked their ceremony in Mexico, using a travel agent from England, where the pair lives.

Anne bought a dress and spent hours preparing for the event. They invited friends and family, who all bought tickets to come. And then, finally, the moment arrived. Anne and Sam flew to that destination -- the Riu Yucatan Hotel in Playacar, Cancun -- to prepare for their dream wedding.

Soon after arrival, however, and but what to their wondering eyes should appear, but a hotel employee, informing the happy couple that the hotel had NO RECORD WHATSOEVER of any wedding plans for them. Worse, the hotel could not accommodate them on that day. They were booked by other couples.

They suggested another day -- then another. But, hello! Family and friends were scheduled to arrive (and had booked flights for) November 15. So after Anne watched several other couples getting hitched, she spent the day in her hotel room, crying her little English eyes out. Then she and her fiance finally flew home...where they had to cancel ANOTHER ceremony -- the very large wedding reception that had been planned for their return.

It turned out that the travel agency was to blame. A "miscommunication" problem, they said (with, no doubt, the most British of accents and restraint). Then, the oh-so-generous company reimbursed the couple...for half of the $11,600 they had paid for the trip and wedding. Yes, indeedy. HALF.

Now, women of the jury, I ask you:

Is this not the most hissy-fit-warranting situation you have EVER heard of IN YOUR ENTIRE LIFE? And just imagine...the poor girl is ENGLISH. Which means that instead of venting, she had to stuff it all down. Bless her little heart.

Just witness their picture. See how much better it is to get these things out into the open? We Southern Girls KNOW, I tell you. We really do.

With Southern love,

Annabelle

http://www.southerngirlsguide.com/

Christmas Survey

2007-12-11T21:24:00.000-08:00

I just got one of those email questionnaires, so for fun, I thought I'd post it here. Hope everyone is enjoying all the shopping and wrapping...and finding at least a little time to eat gingerbread!

By the way, does anybody know when "The Grinch" is coming on TV? What about "Charlie Brown Christmas?"

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Wrapping paper.

2. Real tree or artificial? Fake, ever since my husband used wirecutters one year to cut off all the lights, after we argued about how he was putting them on. Rather than continuing with WWIII every year, I finally bought a fake, pre-lit one. Best decision I've ever made in my life. I miss the smell, but I burn pine-scented aromatherapy oil and candles around the tree, for effect. And aren't you glad you asked?!

3. When do you put up the tree? The Saturday after Thanksgiving

4. When do you take the tree down? Usually sometime before my birthday…which is in April

5. Do you like eggnog? The raw eggs kinda creep me out…but I'm game for a taste.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? The year my aunt Nancy got me every single thing on my wish list (Jimmy Buffet's "Volcano," a pair of square hammered metal earrings…among other things)

7. Hardest person to buy for? My aunt Nancy! (And the mother-in-law)

8. Easiest person to buy for? My kids

9. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? A 6 ft. x 3 ft. fake "million dollar bill," complete with cliches like "Your ship has come in," all painted on white felt – to use as a tablecloth? To hang? (We did, just for fun).

10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Used to be mail…this year, probably email.

11. Favorite Christmas Movie? "How the Grinch Stole Christmas"

12. When do you start shopping for Christmas? The day after Christmas

13. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Probably. (Mother Brain strikes again.)

14. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Starbucks Gingerbread cake…with a non-fat latte.

15. Clear lights or colored on the tree? Clear – lots of them

16. Favorite Christmas song? "O Holy Night." Do I dare to sing this one year in church???

17. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Stay home…I did WAY too much travel as a kid, back and forth between the parents

18. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer's? Comet, Cupid, Dancer and Vixen, Prancer, Donner, Blixen…I'm missing one (and it isn't Rudolph). Droopy?!!!

19. Angel on the tree top or a star? Ummmm…..I think we lost the star we used to have…it's bare this year. (Mark decorated - I stayed away!)

20. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? Christmas morning, with sweet rolls and tea.

21. Most annoying thing about this time of year? Christmas cards with only my friends' kids. I want to see the whole family!!!

22. What I love most about Christmas? Newsletters from friends

With Southern love, y'all!
Annabelle

Thanksgiving Aftermath

2007-12-11T21:20:00.000-08:00

Okay, y'all.

I am not promising to be witty here - only to touch base, which I have been sorely remiss in doing lately. Kinda like that really big website where I promised 'em I would blog "at least once a week." (I blog here the same as there - same blog posts, and y'all know how often THAT is.)
Ahem.

I have been busy. Crazy busy. Lots of assignments for Crosswalk, including trips to L.A. to interview Steve Carell of "Dan in Real Life" (great film!!!) and the cast and crew of "Enchanted" (ditto!!!), which included Patrick Dempsey(yes, I know, I know - and he WAS adorable...just way more petite than I expected, although I don't know WHY I am surprised at this, because they ALL are, out here). But I'm biased. I like tall men.

So that's been fun but it's kept me busy, along with all my usual assignments.

I'm also writing a very long story for WebMD about lead poisoning in toys - you know, what should parents do about all the toys that have NOT been recalled but which could, any day now (I'll post the link, once it's up). I've had a great time but that story has kicked my butt good, honey. I feel like I've interviewed everyone but the president and I definitely haven't slept much since I started working on it two weeks ago. There is a LOT of stuff people need to know, that's all I'll say. That, and I went and got my baby IMMEDIATELY tested for blood lead levels (which were normal, praise God). The stories I heard from those mothers, y'all...it's enough to break your heart. I cried when I interviewed them, I kid you not. And now I'm on a mission to tell the world about lead poisoning. One of many, of course. Never a dull moment around here.

Well, I hope everyone had a fabulous Thanksgiving and gave thanks to the good Lord for all the things he's given us, big and small. Mine start and end with my precious girls, who are so cute I positively cannot stand it. (Not that I'm biased or anything, mind you.) We had a great dinner with awesome friends and for once, the cooking didn't take me all day. I think I'm finally getting the hang of this thing, after so many years of doing this meal (for those of you who think this means I am old, please note that I started cooking Thanksgiving dinner young, young, young - right out of the crib).

We had all my usual dishes, like Grand Marnier Stuffing (I don't care how Southern you are, this blows AWAY the cornbread stuff), creamed corn with a roux base (learned at the New Orleans Cooking School) and Paula Deen's Gooey Pumpkin Butter Cakes. You eat one of those, honey, and I promise you will never go near regular pumpkin pie again. My child just BEGS me for them every day now.

I know, I know. I should have made a pecan pie. What's a Southern Girl Thanksgiving without one, after all? But y'all, pecans (which I pronounce PEE-cans, by the way, in case anybody's wondering) are just not readily available out here. I mean, yes, they exist, but not in large bags like you get going up and down I-95 on your way back from Florida. (Can anyone say Stuckey's?) And when you do find 'em, they're about $40 an ounce.

So what did I do? Well, I went and reserved me an ice cream pie. Yes, indeedy. I saw the sign at this mini-franchise out of Santa Barbara called McConnell's (don't even THINK about comparing Ben & Jerry's to this stuff, honey...we're talking ALL NATURAL ingredients and the best ice cream I've ever put in my mouth, including the stuff from Italy, which I actually tasted in Italy a few times). And, wowed by the thought of this piece de resistence on my Thanksgiving table, right next to the pilgrim and the Indian (oops...I mean Native American), I caved in and ordered one for the bargain basement price of $15.

Holy cow, was it worth it. Coffee flavored, which I've become strangely enamored with of late, and a graham cracker crust. (Some of y'all know that I never drank coffee until my second child was born and my publisher wanted my book finished lickity split. After years of avoiding the stuff, I drove straight to Starbuck's, got myself addicted and have never once looked back. Kind of like leaving Fayetteville, NC. Can you relate?) Now I just have to figure out how to disguise all those lattes in the monthly budget. Shhhhh...it's easier than the time I had to sneak four Civil War-era chairs I'd just bought from a roadside antique store in SC into the back of our van, with Mark snoring away up front. (But that's another story.)

Actually, the coffee business is too. But what's a Southern tale without a few digressions, right y'all?

Long story short (although it never is with me, so y'all just get used to it), instead of pecan pie, we had coffee ice cream pie this year, and not a soul complained. Shocking, isn't it? Naturally we ate way too much of everything, and I didn't even think about my diet OR my trainer the entire day or the next. Of course, I also felt like crap (pardon my French) for two days afterward, which just goes to show you how bad that much food is for you, thanking the good Lord notwithstanding.

Did I tell y'all I've been working out with a trainer? Honey, I used to think that was a luxury for the rich and famous, but I am here to tell you right now that this is what I've been missing in life. Honestly. It's amazing to finally decide to take care of myself, for the first time in about a hundred years, and y'all really do need to try it. Someday I'll tell you how much weight I've lost since my baby was born and maybe, just maybe -- if I get liquored up enough -- even post a few "Before" and "After" pictures.

Ah...come to think of it, maybe not.

But I'd certainly be happy to tell y'all how I did it, and it wasn't the exercise.

Honestly. That's important, but it mostly came later -- like the trainer (although she did give me a great diet and a lot of advice during that time -- only it was completely free, bless her size-four sweet little healthy heart.) In fact, I'm thinking about holding some kind of teleseminar, since so many people have asked me to tell them how I did this thing. It's in the works...kinda like my blogs. Ahem.

Well, that's enough of the exercise talk. 'Hope I didn't make anyone feel awful. (And if it makes you feel any better, I haven't worked out in days.)

Good catchin' up, y'all. I've missed you, despite my absence. (And so much for a short post.)

With Southern love,
Annabelle

Remembrance of Things Past

2007-09-12T15:24:00.001-07:00

As the plane took off from Santa Barbara, California, I danced a little jig and mouthed the chorus to the Go-Go's’ “Vacation,” munching on my pre-packaged breakfast of Kashi. Oh, it was going to be fun!

Sure, I was going for work. But it was Labor Day -- and Mark had the kids for this lovely long weekend. Yeah, baby! And even though that 80s pop song was serving as a sobering reminder of my age and my teenage years – both of which I sincerely prefer to forget – I couldn’t help but be excited. I was going to the Decatur Book Festival in Atlanta, Georgia.

I was going home.

Since my oh-so-literary opus, The Southern Girl’s Guide, hit bookstores in early January, I’ve had the privilege of speaking at several book festivals around the South. With their requisite author hobnobbing, these events are always a blast. Think great minds, great books, great conversation and great booze…er, food. But this weekend was sure to surpass them all.

It most definitely did.

Located a few miles from downtown Atlanta, Decatur calls itself “Mayberry with a Kick,” and it’s one of the best kept secrets in the South. Mother was a majorette at Decatur High, the same class as Roy Blount (1959 – sorry, Mama), another author at this year’s festival (albeit one far more renowned than little old moi). Roy remembers Mother’s legs, which were and are still fabulous, as she pranced around the football team. Go, Decatur bulldogs! My uncle Charlie once burned down the woods behind the family home on Inman Drive. Go, Decatur firefighters!

So maybe genetic predisposition had something to do with it, but as soon as Mark and I hit town ten years ago, we fell in love with Decatur’s historic architecture, art-infused culture and small-town-inside-the-big-city charm. I’d be there still, in fact, reporting on everything from the county CEO (think Ray Nagin without the hurricane) to the latest band at Eddie’s Attic (launching pad of more than a few famous musicians).

If only the Air Force hadn’t seen fit to move us to California. Away from everything that I know and love. While I was pregnant. Just weeks after my Daddy had died.

But, as my friend Dottie Benton Frank said, when I complained about the officer housing on base, which boasts mold and walls so thin you can hear the neighbors going potty, “That’s why they call it ‘the service,’ honey. Nobody said it would be fun.”

Ain’t that the truth.

After settling into my hotel on the Decatur Square, I donned a pair of shorts and headed for my favorite sushi place. They were, to my horror, completely out of sweet tea. People, people, people!

Upon hearing my tale of woe, however (stuck in California, no sweet tea to be found, no real tea, even – except at Taco Bell, so God bless the Mexicans), they made more. I waited. Then I drank the equivalent of a Big Gulp in liquid gold.

Oh, blessed assurance, Jesus is mine.

Too bad that in my zeal to embark upon Proustian memories, I completely forgot the effect of imbibing sugar and caffeine at 10 o’clock in the evening. No doubt, I garnered more than a few glances as I worked that hotel treadmill at 1 a.m.

The next day, with 70,000 other attendees, I listened to fabulous lectures and concerts, ran my mouth in the author hospitality suite and generally had a ball, as my grandmother likes to say. It was, to say the least, wonderful to be back – especially with the kind of talent that festival organizers Daren Wang and Tom Bell had rounded up this year. You can check out the complete list here, but for today, I’ll focus on just one.

His name is Chris Rose, he’s a columnist with the “New Orleans Times-Picayune” and his first book, “1 Dead in Attic,” received tremendous national coverage after its recent release, which was timed to coincide with the two-year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina.

The Gulf Coast. New Orleans. Katrina… Remember?

I met Rose at The Brickhouse Pub, where I was sipping on a Cosmo and eating my turkey burger, quietly minding my own business. Okay, so I was talking to everyone in sight. Sue me.

Eventually my girlfriend Dawn and I moved to Rose's table, along with an Oregonian transplant named Jane -- clearly a masochist. And I think it’s safe to say that, along with everyone sitting near us, we had a howling good time.

There’s nothing funny about Rose’s book, however, which I read after listening to his lecture the following day. With heartrending truthfulness, he chronicles the aftermath of Katrina on himself and all the residents of the once-beautiful New Orleans. He’s a brilliant writer (he won the Pulitzer for his columns, which form the backbone of the book). And he nimbly engages in the kind of soul-searching honesty that most writers aspire to, yet rarely achieve – no doubt because of fear.

Unlike most, Rose conquered that fear and dared to recount not just the things he saw, but the things he felt. The dedication alone is enough to make you cry:

This book is dedicated to Thomas Coleman, a retired longshoreman, who died in his attic at 2214 St. Roch Avenue in New Orleans’ 8th Ward on or about August 29, 2005. He had a can of juice and a bedspread at his side when the waters rose.

Rose did something for me last weekend. Sure, he aided and abetted my vacation by buying two more Cosmopolitans (which, at $9 a pop, the Brickstore Pub is clearly discouraging). But, he also reminded me that New Orleans continues to be devastated by Katrina – a fact that has been casually overlooked by all the Britney-filled headlines.

In many ways, Rose said, the situation is even harder now than it was after the storm. Residents spend their days wrangling with reluctant insurance companies. Trash still fills the city, jobs are in short supply and crime has surpassed every city in the country. Even stoplights can be a roll of the dice.

And then there’s the post-traumatic stress disorder, a epidemic of mass proportions which threw Rose into a dark depression and has caused hundreds to commit suicide. Children as young as six are actually cutting themselves, in a desperate bid to ease the emotional pain. Unfortunately, with 80 percent of New Orleans’ mental health professionals gone from the city, this is no easy problem to solve.

Despite the lack of media interest, I should have been far more aware of Katrina's fallout. After all, our 1998 move to Atlanta was prompted by the inner city, where we spent years serving the homeless. Housing crack addicts and ex-cons, diapering dirty babies, feeding hungry first-graders – this was my mission, while my chaplain-husband worked the emergency room of Grady Hospital, dealing with the most horrifying heartbreaks and traumas.

As hard as it all was, I loved every minute. In fact, I often look back on that time when I couldn’t buy dinner and had to write in 98-degree heat with no air-conditioning as one of the best in my life. Life’s funny that way, isn’t it? '

Of course, Decatur has never been submerged under water, either. And no one has ever written “1 Dead in Attic” on my house, while thousands wait to be rescued in the sweltering heat without any food or water, for days on end.

In the past 30 months, I’ve faced the death of my father and mother-in-law; a high-risk pregnancy; a cross-country move that ripped me from family, friends, my home, my job and my beloved South. I became a military wife – something I would never have imagined. I also became a single mother during my husband’s five-month deployment to the Middle East and multiple separations. And, I’m still adjusting to a culture that makes the Bronx for a South Carolinian easy by comparison.

(Just trust me when I say that there’s a reason they call California “the land of fruits and nuts.")

When Katrina hit, I was weeks from giving birth and stuck at home with our toddler during Mark's 16-hour work days, wondering how I would ever finish the book that had just sold at auction to the highest bidder. But still, it took everything I had not to grab the kid, pack the minivan, empty our savings account and head to New Orleans to hand out water, food, clothes, encouragement, a prayer. Anything.

Meeting Chris Rose made me realize I should have.

I didn’t forget about New Orleans during the last two years, as life was churning up its usual malestrom of worries and woes. But I haven’t really remembered, either.

How about you?

Annabelle Robertson is an award-winning journalist and author. Her book, The Southern Girl’s Guide to Surviving the Newlywed Years: How to Stay Sane Once You’ve Caught Your Man, won the 2006 USA Best Books Award for humor. Visit her at http://www.southerngirlsguide.com/, where you can download the first chapter.

Wedding Insurance: Hedging Your Bet

2007-07-19T17:06:00.000-07:00

Hey, y'all!

Worried about the spiraling cost of your wedding? I understand. With the average one these days topping $30,000, anyone would be. But what if you were to get stuck with that kind of price tag...and no wedding at all?

Just last night, after my nanny and 20 some-odd friends had all booked their plane tickets to Vancouver, B.C. for a friend's wedding, they received an email informing them that it had been cancelled. No further explanation from the groom -- just an apology with a request to pray for them.

Naturally, everyone was devastated. After all, the couple had been dating for six years. But what should they do about all those nonrefundable tickets?

Of course, this dilemma pales compared to the many complex ones faced by the would-be bride and groom. As one former bride commented about her cancellation, which took place two months prior to the happy event, "You can't imagine how much work is involved."

No, honey, I can't. Nor can I imagine the emotional heartbreak -- or the cost, which could have longer ramifications than the break-up.

So what's a bride to do? (Besides cry her eyes out ... and hope Daddy doesn't get too mad...)

According to financial expert Marshall Loeb of MoneyWatch, brides may want to consider purchasing wedding insurance, which is now available for a wide range of situations, should things go awry on or before their special day.

"You can buy policies that cover nonrefundable deposits if you have to cancel your wedding due a death in the family or a natural disaster like a flood, fire or hurricane," Loeb says. "Others reimburse you if your spouse is in the military and is unexpectedly deployed; and still others cover the expense of restaging wedding photos or replacing a lost or damaged wedding dress.

"There's even a policy that covers cold feet, so parents no longer have to pay the price for a child's last minute change of heart."

According to MSNBC, the price for hedging your wedding bets starts at a few hundred dollars and goes all the way up to $1,000, depending on coverage you and location. And, while that might seem like just one more bill to add to the growing pile, if you consider the potential savings, it could easily be worthwhile.

Hey, just one more thing to keep you brides busy...in case you don't know how to use those few spare seconds you might have in those already over-packed days, right?

Well, here's wishing that you NEVER EVER need wedding insurance, whether you buy it or not. So hang in there, y'all!

With Southern love,

Annabelle
www.SouthernGirlsGuide.com

Tacky Wedding of the Week

2007-07-13T12:04:00.000-07:00

Well, y'all know how we Southern Girls hate tacky - especially when it comes to weddings. As my four year old said the other day, when I mischievously suggested we throw the carcass of a crushed snail over the fence into the neighbor's yard, "Mama, that's TACKY! And we don't want to be tacky unless we absolutely have to."

Amen, darlin! (And touche to me, too!)

So I guess that must be what happened with former UCLA basketball coach Steve Lavin and his fiance, actress Mary Jarou, found themselves in the rather awkward situation of "too many" acceptances to their forthcoming Los Angeles nuptials. They just HAD to be tacky.

According to an e-mail posted on the L.A. Times’ UCLA blog, the couple solved the problem of having too many friends at the wedding by UNINVITING everyone:

Unexpectedly we have received a stunning 95% RSVP on sent out wedding invitations. As a result, our wedding guest list has far exceeded the maximum capacity for a traditional ceremony and reception at The Montage Resort.

After giving serious consideration to alternative plans we have decided the best option at this late stage is to head to Europe to create a magical wedding day.

Please accept our sincere apologies for any inconveniences this change in our wedding plans may have caused you. We are sorry that we will not be able to share our big day with family and friends. We will be sure to send you photos of our wedding upon our return from Europe.

My question is, next time I receive a wedding invitation, how do I know if it's a real invitation or one that I'm "supposed" to decline?

With Southern love,

Annabelle

http://www.southerngirlsguide.com/

Dogs vs. Kids? It's a Tough One, Y'all!

2007-05-02T11:10:00.000-07:00

There are times in every couple's life when we must make crucial decisions. Decisions that will affect us for the rest of our lives, which will have far-reaching ramifications.

Take, for instance, the decision of companionship. It's a tough call, this one - especially for newlyweds. But basically, it boils down to this:

Should you get a dog?

Or should you have kids?

I'll leave this one up to you. But, suffice to say that, having suffered through the Gordon Years, when life consisted of praying that the UPS man would not sue, we've opted for Door Number Two. And, even though my ever-so-slightly OCD husband complains about the Magic Markers getting "mixed up" with the crayons, our house has yet to achieve the epic decorating scheme enployed by these little tikes.

But books, you say? Yes, books! Because this is, for the most part, a book blog. At least that's what I'm thinking it is nowadays, since I'm meeting so many wonderful authors and reviewing so many cool books.

So here's what I've got for you today, as we contemplate dogs and kids and other unworldly visitors to our planet.

Man of the House: Reflections on Life with Dogs, Divas and a Bunch of Little Dudes Who Keep Calling Me Dad, by Chris Erskine (Rodale, $23.95).

It’s a skill to make people laugh and cry at the same time, but Chris Erskine manages to do just that. He also makes you think – a lot. A Los Angeles Times columnist who writes about family life in the suburbs, Erskine explores adoring toddlers, narcissistic teenagers, beautiful neighbors and exhausted spouses. From childbirth to aging via the empty nest, he offers both witticisms and insights.

"Man of the House" is a very well-written book which eskews a Dave Barry-style humor for a gentle, insightful wit that is surpisingly profound. A fun gift for Dad, if you're looking for that perfect Father's Day gift next month.

With Southern love,

Annabelle

www.SouthernGirlsGuide.com

Hanging Out in Southern Kentucky

2007-04-26T16:20:00.000-07:00

Hey, y'all!

I just got back from the Southern Kentucky Book Festival in Bowling Green, KY. And oh, what fun it was...to actually sleep late...and yeah baby, drink a Cosmo (or two) after one whole year of sweat and starvation, trying to get rid of the baby fat.

Now just where in the world is this place, you say? Well, Bowling Green -- which is one of the prettiest places I've ever seen, with the nicest people on Earth -- is about an hour north of Nashville, TN. And whoa, what a great time! A hundred or more authors, all hanging out, signing books and giving talks...and giving moi, yours truly the newbie author, an education about the publishing industry. Talk about scary! This business is as tough as uncooked grits. Enter at your own risk, people.

Although, I must admit, it wasn't much of a hardship meeting Scott Turow and his sweet girlfriend. As luck would have it, Scott just happens to be ex-law partners and close friends with one of my old bosses, Russ Bradley, from Geneva, Switzerland. Nice guy, too. And still a lawyer, bless his little heart.

Ditto for Rick Bragg, a Pulitzer Price winner whom I actually sent a fan letter too, way back in 1997, after reading his amazing memoir, "All Over But the Shoutin'." Rick was just the nicest man you could ever imagine, too. Sweet as pie -- not a stuck-up bone in his body.

I also spoke with Cassandra King (Pat Conroy's wife), whom I had interviewed the previous week for a story in the Athens Banner-Herald (great paper, edited by my darlin' friend, Courtney Pomeroy). And finally, I met the venerable Christian author, Janet Oke. For those not-in-the-know (as in, me), it's pronounced "Ja-NET" and "Oke" (rhymes with hoke). Good thing she told me.

So, well (pronounced "WAY-yull," if you're in my family), I made some great new friends and hung out in the hotel lobby 'til all hours of the night (okay, so it was just midnight, but for this mother of an 18-month old, that's LATE, y'all!). And making new friends is always worth the price of admission -- especially for writers, who spend their days alone, toiling in front of a computer. Unless you're me, of course, in which case you WISH you could spend your days alone, instead of being hounded for PBJs, bagels and trying to shake a kid off your leg so you can send just one more email to your publicist...who no doubt feels the same way about YOU and you do about your toddler.

Hey, it's the circle of life (and love 'ya, Lisa!)

So take a gander at some of my new best friends (below, in no particular order), who write all sorts of things, for men and women, both fiction and non-fiction. Better still, buy their books and send 'em an email to tell 'em how great they are. We all need a little encouragement every now and then, right?!

Melanie Lynn Hauser, "Confessions of a Super Mom" and "Super Mom Saves the World"
Cheryl Strayed, "Torched"
Kristy Kiernan, "Catching Genius"
River Jordan, "The Messenger of Magnolia Street"
Tasha Alexander, "And Only to Deceive"
Adrienne Martini, "Hillbilly Gothic"
Hana Shank, "A More Perfect Union"
J.D. Rhoades, "The Devil's Right Hand"
Michael Largo, "Final Exits"

P.S. I plan to feature some Q&As and book reviews with these fabulous writers, so stay tuned!

With Southern love,
Annabelle
http://www.southerngirlsguide.com/

Couple Celebrates 80 Years of Marriage

2007-03-31T10:38:00.000-07:00

Here's one of the sweetest stories I've heard in a long time. Check it out, y'all.

In Lubec, Maine, a couple is about to celebrate their 80th wedding anniversary. Yep, 80th. Talk about sticking it out!

Kathleen and Waldo Tarbell married in 1927, during Calvin Coolidge's presidency. They now live together at the Oceanview Nursing Home, where they will celebrate their anniversary in grand style.

Like most couples, the Tarbells say that marriage has changed them. Kathleen, who is a hard-and-fast Democrat, has stuck to her political guns throughout her adult life. But Waldo, originally a Republican, has turned Democrat.

He said that his wife "converted" him.

This is GREAT NEWS for us wives. It means we CAN change our husbands, after all.

It only takes 80 years.

With Southern love,
Annabelle
www.SouthernGirlsGuide.com

Newlyweds Serve Needy as Part of Their Wedding Day

2007-03-29T09:28:00.000-07:00

This is a really cool article reported on by the Associated Press. (The church mentioned, by the way - Vineyard Christian Fellowship - is part of a really cool denomination all over the U.S. that's doing cutting-edge community ministry.)

MUSKEGON - The 150 people invited to the wedding of Cristine Bouwkamp and Kyle Kramer wedding over the weekend expected a reception. Instead, they were put to work unloading 5,000 pounds of food from a Gleaner's truck to help neighborhood families.

But no one seemed to mind.

"We decided the first thing we wanted to do as husband and wife is to serve others," Bouwkamp, 36, told The Muskegon Chronicle. "We thought about not just feeding our guests, but also the neighborhood."

The couple used money that might have been used to buy wedding candles or rent china and donated it to their church, Vineyard Christian Fellowship. It was used to pay for the food which fed more than 100 households Saturday. The food cost 3 cents per pound.

"It didn't surprise me when Kyle and Cristine told me what they wanted to do," Vineyard pastor Gary Sherwood said.

About one-third of the 120 people who attend the Vineyard each Sunday live in the neighborhood and walk to church. Early last week, Bouwkamp and Kramer, 32, quietly spread the word in the neighborhood that a truck with free food would be at the church.

Right after each said "I do" and posed for wedding photos, they donned "bride" and "groom" aprons and went to work giving back to others. The couple met about a year ago while working on a committee for a ministry that conducts outreach into the neighborhood. Cristine had been a single mother of two daughters. Kyle has battled addiction and is a graduate of the Muskegon Rescue Mission's discipleship program.

"Both of their lives have radically changed," Sherwood said. "People who haven't seen them for a while will recognize them by the way they look on the outside, but they won't recognize them on the inside."

Neat, huh? I mean, here's a couple who made "their" day -- the day that most of us (yours truly included) use to be "Queen for a Day -- into a generous gift for the needy instead. Talk about servant hearts!

God bless this couple, and the church that fostered such selflessness. We need more folks like it. It puts me to shame, that's for sure. How 'bout you?

With Southern love,
Annabelle
www.SouthernGirlsGuide.com

Marriage Problems? Hope Is Here, People

2007-02-01T19:42:00.000-08:00

BREAKING NEWS ***BREAKING NEWS ***BREAKING NEWS

I take this break from our regularly scheduled program about moi and my oh-so fascinating book tour to bring you this BREAKING NEWS BULLETIN from the world of showbiz.

Coco, wife of rapper/actor Ice-T, has announced that she and her beloved will soon be dispensing the secrets to a happy marriage.

"Me and Ice are currently writing a book about creating and maintaining a successful relationship. We have had great success in balancing our careers and private lives, and we would like to share some of that knowledge with others who are in need of guidance and/or inspiration,” said Coco.

One can only presume that having quadruple E breast implants may have something to do with it. Either that, or dressing up like a Satanic hooker.

Marriage Joke of the Day

2007-01-31T07:18:00.000-08:00

With a couple celebrating their 50th anniversary, the minister asked Brother Ralph to take a few minutes to share some insight into how he managed to live with the same woman for so many years.

"Well, I treated her with respect, spent money on her, but mostly I took her traveling on special occasions."

The minister inquired, "Really? Where did you go?"

"For our 25th anniversary, I took her to Beijing, China."

"What a terrific example you are to all husbands, Ralph. So what will you do for your wife now that it's your 50th anniversary?"

"I'm going to go get her," he replied.

Air Force Protocol: Living Large

2007-01-26T20:38:00.001-08:00

I'm writing to you from the "DV" suite of Shaw Air Force Base near Sumter, SC. And oh, what a joy it is! Book tour like this? I could do more.

For those unfamiliar with military jargon, "DV" stands for "distinguished visitor" -- and for some strange reason, that is me. At least for tonight.

As the keynote speaker at the base officer's spouse's club fundraiser event, I have been treated very much like a dignitary. Prior to my arrival, one of the officer's spouses emailed me about any special needs -- childcare, pets, and so forth. She gave me directions and a cell phone number.

Upon arrival, the wing chaplain's wife (the wife of the most senior chaplain on base) met me at my room (which had been paid for) with a key, waited while I dressed then escorted me to the officer's club for dinner.

Despite the fact that I was looking forward to the evening, it was hard leaving such a lovely suite. The large bedroom consists of a raised king bed with cozy sheets and tons of pillows, a desk, a dresser, an accent chair, side tables, television and a slew of newspapers. If I need to shine my shoes, a shoe-shiner awaits. There are even extra "stars" available for your uniform, in case you forgot yours (hmmmmm....nah!)

In the humongous walk-in closet are fluffy bathrobes, a laundry basket, the usual duvets and pillows and -- I love this one -- a putter, two golf balls, a rolled up putting green and a little thingamajig that catches the balls. Basically, all the paraphenalia for practicing your putt! (So THAT'S what retired generals do in their spare time...)

The bathroom boasts oversized, monogrammed bath sheets and a carpeted floor that is oh-so-soft on your feet. And the living room has the largest mini bar I've ever seen (even in Hollywood), a dining table set for a king, another full bath and a kitchenette with fine china (Noritake). You could easily sit four or five people there, in front of the fully stocked entertainment center (the DVD on hand just happened to be "Black Hawk Down" -- a favorite of military men everywhere).

Clearly, the guests who visit are very distinguished indeed. The visitor's book includes many a colonel and more than a few generals. And now me, of course!

After my arrival at the Carolina Skies Club (this base is host to several squadrons of fighter pilots -- hence the name), someone brought me a drink. We enjoyed a lovely dinner, after which I spoke, signed books and chatted. The wing chaplain's wife escorted me back to my room.

The waiter had given me a delicious chocolate dessert to take back with me. Of course, waiting for me in the room were homemade cookies, a goodie basket, a gift from the base commander's wife (who had been unable to attend) and no less than three thank-you notes. Amazing!

Tomorrow, the wing chaplain's wife is taking me out for breakfast. She has also invited me to come back in two weeks, when Mark has finally arrived, to join them for the National Day of Prayer luncheon here on base, when the Deputy Chief of Chaplains, Ch. Richardson -- a very godly man -- will be speaking. We accepted the gracious invitation and are looking forward to it.

Very forward, as you can tell. As Mark says, "The Air Force certainly does protocal well."

Well, they certainly do. What a treat, too. Book tour? Like this? Any day!

With Southern love,

Annabelle
www.SouthernGirlsGuide.com

Ready for My Close-Up: Going on TV Means Waking Up Early

2007-01-14T08:15:00.001-08:00

"Good Day Atlanta would like you on the show Wednesday morning," said Lisa, my publicist.

Wednesday! I was supposed to be in Charlotte that day. Of course, I quickly shifted gear when I learned that this was the only date they had available. Southern Girl beggers, as they say, definitely cannot be choosers.

So, after freaking out about what to wear and arranging for (more) childcare, I jumped in the car and took off for Atlanta, a day before schedule. I checked into my hotel (no way was I going to ask a girlfriend to put up with me leaving so early the next morning) and set my alarm. I also set the hotel alarm clock and requested a wake-up call. Hey, you can't be too careful! (And I am not exactly a morning person, especially on the kind of sleep I'm getting these days.)

Before I turned out the light, I read my book as if studying for a final exam. After all, I had no idea what they wanted me to talk about -- and it's 252 pages.

I didn't sleep much, so when the alarm went off, I bolted out of bed and hopped in the shower. And, despite having plenty of time, I still managed to leave late. Then the security guard at the front gate of the television station did not have me on my list, which made me even later.

In case you haven't read my book yet, which describes the conflicts between spouses who are late and spouses who like to be early (including lists of activities I call "Constructive Waiting" and "Destructive Waiting"), this is nothing new. I was late to my birth, late to my wedding and I'm hoping I'll be late to my funeral as well. It runs in the blood, much to my husband's dismay.

Fortunately, I had planned on arriving early at the studio, so I was actually right on time. A rarity, to say the least. Maybe I should try this more often. (Sure.)

In the green room -- yes, it's really called 'the green room' and, at least in this case, was actually a very pleasant shade of green, I immediately polled everyone about my outfit, a retro, pink and green Lilly Pulitzer dress and coatdress.

"It's fantastic," said the makeup artist, before she touched up the makeup I had done.

"But don't you think it will look gray on camera?" I asked.

"Oh, no," she said. "It will look great."

The producer came in to greet me and we chatted, then I walked around the empty set. I finally settled back in the green room to watch the show, which was beginning, over a cup of coffee.

After awhile, Cheryl, the host who would be interviewing me, came in to say hello. "I loved your book!" she said. "It's hilarious!"

I told her about the award the book had just won (the 2006 USA Best Books Award, for the humor category) and we chatted about Mark's work at Grady Hospital, prior to leaving for the Middle East. I also told Cheryl that I was a local, having lived in Atlanta for almost ten years, where I worked as a journalist. I still write for a number of Atlanta publications.

"Oh, so you're one of us!" she joked.

Before long, it was time to go on the air. I sat down across from Cheryl, who reminded me to speak to her, not the camera. Someone clipped on a mic and we were off.

Cheryl, lucky girl, got to read from the teleprompter. Fortunately, however, I had studied up the night before.

"But you wrote the book," people say, when I tell them I need to review my material occasionally. "Surely you know it backwards and forwards."

Surprisingly, I don't. I always joke that I write because I like to 'run my mouth' (as my Daddy used to say). And when you run your mouth, especially as fast as I tend to run mine, you don't always remember what you say. This is not necessarily a good thing, by the way.

The show was over before I knew it. About three minutes, I believe, although it felt like seconds. And it was fun -- really fun. I loved it, in fact.

So if anybody out there on The Today Show is looking for an extra host -- especially a sassy Southern Girl -- please note that I am available. For a small fee, of course.

Until then, take a gander at my interview and tell me what you think. Good Day Atlanta

And stay sweet, y'all!

With Southern love,

Annabelle
http://www.southerngirlsguide.com/

Anticipation: Waiting for the Book to Hit Stores

2007-01-07T06:44:00.000-08:00

"Your book is in Barnes & Noble in Minnesota!" my aunt shouted.

It was December 22, and I had just landed in Charlotte after a cross crounty trip that included an overnight in L.A.

What? It's not supposed to be in stores yetuntil January second," I said. "We can't even get in here yet. And it's a Southern book!"

"Well, it's there. She just bought two copies."

My aunt's mother wasn't the only one who spotted my book. When I spoke with my editor a week or so later, she informed me that The Southern Girl's Guide had already been delivered to various bokstores and was selling - well before the official "on sale" date of January 2.

"The most sales have been in Atlanta, Charlotte, Nashville and...get this," she said. "New York!"

Now I have a lot of friends in Atlanta, and some family in Charlotte, so I guess that's understandable. But Nashville? I don't know a soul there. Now, I did give Tim McGraw an early-bound copy for his wife, Faith Hill, a few months back, when I interviewed him for the movie Flicka. She's mentioned in the book, as an example of the quintessential Southern Girl. (Don't you just love her?!) But somehow, I don't think Faith is buying up all those copies in Nashville. And what about New York City??? Have the Southerners taken over that city as well? Breaking news!

I'm not complaining, of course. I just wish that I could have seen my book in a store before, oh, I don't know. All my family and friends and their extended network, maybe? My brother Adam drove up to Concord Mills (just north of Charlotte) a few days after Christmas. He stopped in the Barnes & Noble and guess what? There it was, sitting on a shelf in the relationship section, right under Dr. Phil's new book.

(See photo above. Isn't Adam the cutest thing? Still single gals, but better act fast. He's a keeper!) My brother Stephen called soon after to report that Books A Million has The Southern Girl's Guide in Gastonia, NC.

Well, I've been saying all along that it's a cross between Dr. Phil and the Sweet Potato Queen, so I guess the shelf location is a propos. Unlike the latter, mine is totally PG. But very Southern. Which, apparently, even Yankees are starting to appreciate. High time, too, if you ask me. Which, I guess, is why I wrote the book, after all. Because everybody needs a little Southern love.

Still, publishing. It's a strange business.

With Southern love,
Annabelle

Join Me on Book Tour: It May Not Be Hollywood But It's a Whole Lotta Fun

2007-01-06T20:09:00.001-08:00

I'm in Raleigh, North Carolina, staying with my sister and launching my first book tour - which isn't at all what most people assume.

First of all, my publisher isn't sending me on this book tour. I'm sending myself. Only bestselling authors - those publishers know will generate large audiences in major cities, and for whom they can therefore justify the enormous expense - get the all-expense paid book tours. The rest of us either hope for the best, from home, or send ourselves on the road, as I'm doing.
So...gas, flights, hotels - you name it. I'm paying for it. I consider it a worthy investment in my future.

"But aren't the publishers responsible for marketing your book?" friends ask. Yes, and they do market the book. They market it very well. They have hard-working sales representatives who sell my book to all the bookstores, who in turn make it available to the public. Publishers also have large, in-house publicity teams who help the authors publicize those books.

Note the key words here: help the authors.

Because, as any successful author knows, if you don't get out there and publicize that book yourself, it probably won't sell more than a few thousand copies. And that is the worst thing that can possibly happen - worse even than not getting a book contract at all. Why? Because, with some 50,000 books published every year, no publisher wants to take a risk on a second book that might fail - especially on the heels of a first book that hasn't sold well.

So, I'm on the road. After all, it's been ten years since I started working on my first book (which isn't the one in bookstores today, by the way - first books rarely are) - and I want to be an author.

Of course, I couldn't do it without the help of my publisher, who has generously provided me with an in-house publicist. Not only that, but I happen to have the best publicist in the business. Her name is Lisa Mondello and she has worked her fanny off, night and day, to get the word out there about my book. I owe this gal big time - and I don't mean just the basket of chocolate I sent her for Christmas.

Together, Lisa and I have been working since early September to publicize THE SOUTHERN GIRL'S GUIDE. We've generated media lists and sent out galleys (early copies of the book that do not have a final cover) to long-lead publications. We've drawn up personalized pitch letters, press releases and tip sheets and sent them out. We've pulled together press kits, made phone calls, sent emails and contacted everyone we know who might possibly be interested in reviewing or doing a feature on this book.

I've created content and input for my website, along with press materials like postcards, stationary and business cards (all designed by my brother, graphic design artist extraordinaire). I even shot a two-minute promotional DVD, with the help of a friend who owns a video production company, so that web visitors and reporters could see what I look like in person.

All in all, it's been four months of fulltime work toward publicity. Has it paid off? We'll see. I'm not exactly on the front page of USA Today or anything. However, the book didn't go on sale until January 2, yet almost two hundred copies were sold before that date. My editor says this is a very good sign of early interest.

"Buzz," they call it. And they're saying my book has it.

This is a good thing.

Then there was my first book signing, which took place last night at a large bookstore in Raleigh.
"I came here for you," said an adorable blond named Christy who's been married for three years. "I bought the book earlier this week, for my sister, but I had to come back to get one for myself! It's hilarious! I was laughing so hard I had tears streaming down my face!"

That was wonderful to hear, especially as I looked at all the empty chairs in front of me, and the mic that I clearly would not be needing. Bookstore patrons were milling around, trying to avoid my eyes. It was hard not to be discouraged, especially after being interviewed on a popular radio talk show that morning, during rush hour. With an audience of more than 300,000 listeners.

Suffice to say, the overwhelming majority of those listeners did not come to my booksigning.

"It's not just for newlyweds!" I said, to a couple in their 60s who were looking at cat calendars behind me. That is true. Desite the title, my book is for anyone who's ever been married - and who wants to stay that way. In fact, the longer you've been married, I contend, the harder you'll laugh.

"It's not?" answered the wife.

She wandered over and we talked for 30 minutes. She bought two books. Of course, so did my girlfriend, Amanda Hutchens, an adorable high school classmate from Raleigh who came to see me. Thank goodness, too. She made up 50 percent of my audience last night. I sold a few more books, of course - and some had even come to the store specifically to buy the book and have me autograph it. They just didn't stay for my talk.

Ah, book tour. It's not what you might expect.

No suites at the Ritz-Carlton.
No first class flight.
No limo rides.
No fans, waiting in line for you to autograph their books.

Neverthless, I do have the satisfaction of knowing that, after ten years of dreaming, learning, practicing, hoping and praying, my book has finally been published. And that, I am happy to report, is no small thing.

Caffeine High or a Whole Lotta Love?

2006-12-16T14:57:00.000-08:00

This is a really sweet story that ran on December 16 in The Capital newspaper of Annapolis, Md., about a couple who fell in love over coffee.

By Nicole Young

Walking through a coffee-cup tunnel inside the City Dock Starbucks yesterday morning, Annapolis newlyweds George and Leslie Sparks laughed. Those holding the cups - friends, family and even a few coffee drinkers who had no idea what was going on but participated anyway - were celebrating the nuptials of quite possibly the most caffeinated couple in town.

Consider it a venti-cup salute for the pair, who celebrated their union with a reception at the mega coffee house. And even though it wasn't a fairy-tale wedding, it was much more than the couple wanted to begin with. All they intended on doing was getting hitched at the courthouse and spending the rest of the day just like any other, celebrating with a cup of Joe. Still, it turned into a major event as friends planned the humble pair a grand reception at their favorite spot - Starbucks. Even the coffee house got in on the plans.

"It wasn't a priority to have a big, fancy wedding," said Mr. Sparks, 47, a salesman at Saturn of Bowie. "It's not about all the fluff and stuff. The fairy tales are for those who can afford them, the rest of us do it the easy way."

The wedding party started their day bright and early at Hard Bean Coffee, the couple's favorite local coffee house. They said they're an "equal-opportunity coffee team.

"They knew it was going to be a good day when they all were able to find decent downtown parking spots."The parking gods are shining down on us," Mrs. Sparks, 43, said. "It must mean it's meant to be and hope it will be smooth sailing for our marriage."

From Hard Bean, they marched up Main Street to the county courthouse where Robert P. Duckworth, the clerk of the court, married the two in the courthouse chapel, complete with a Christmas tree in the corner. "This is love at Starbucks. Love over a cup of coffee," Mr. Duckworth joked before the ceremony.

Before a handful of friends and family, the couple made it through the ceremony in a matter of minutes, laughing and joking throughout. After posing for picture after picture, they marched back down Main to the same Starbucks where they met three years ago. A group of four "bridesmaids" holding huge, handmade silver bows loudly hummed the tune to "Here Comes the Bride," as they crossed onto Dock Street.

Love Over the Mug

The couple's love affair with coffee and each other began long ago. They first met at the City Dock Starbucks on May 31, 2003, through a mutual friend. Mr. Sparks, who spends nearly every day at the same table with a triple-shot hazelnut macchiato, was reading when in came Leslie Baumhower - no makeup, hair in a ponytail. "Ever since they opened, I've been reading in there in the morning," Mr. Sparks said. "It's my hang-out before I start my day."

After chatting it up for about 10 minutes, the two met again at a wedding and from there the romance blossomed. They went on their first date just a couple weeks later and the rest is history, so to speak. "I always think our anniversary is May 31 and she considers it out first date," Mr. Sparks said laughing. "She remembers that date and I remember the other one."

It's not the first marriage for Mr. Sparks, a father of two, but it is the first for his wife. The couple has no honeymoon plans and will save their cash for a new home on Edgewood Road in Annapolis. They plan to close on the house in the next two weeks. "We've just been focused on the holiday and settling on the house," he said. "It was originally just going to be just me and her (at the ceremony). But it's all good and it's a happy day any way you slice it."

Mr. Sparks predicted he'd be fighting to get into his own reception and he nearly had to. It was packed with well-wishers and coffee fanatics, many of whom met Mr. Sparks through his daily trips to Starbucks. "This is what's its all about, the community," said Charles Sanders, district manager for Annapolis-area Starbucks. "The coffee is good, but it's about the community."

Mr. Sanders and Kelly Meehan, who met Mr. Sparks at Starbucks, coordinated the reception, getting the coffee house's headquarters in on the party. In addition to providing the reception space, the coffee giant also provided a three-tiered, green-and-cream colored, hazelnut-flavored wedding cake, prepared by Federal Bakery, which also provides the pastries, scones and other baked goods for Starbucks.

Coffee drinkers Christine Seabolt and Mary Trahak, of Annapolis, were just in the door seeking an eggnog latte when they became caught up in the reception. They didn't know anyone in the wedding party, but were moved by the celebration.

"It's giving me goose bumps, it's just so sweet," Ms. Seabolt said. "Everything happens for a reason - we were meant to be here and be a part of their life story."

'Tis the Season to Remarry

2006-12-16T07:39:00.000-08:00

According to the webzine Monsters and Critics, citing the National Ledger website, Nick Lachey, 33, has called ex-wife Jessica Simpson, 26, to inform her that he will be marrying girlfriend Vanessa Minnillo - probably before the end of the year. He reportedly spent 40 minutes on the phone explaining his intentions.

The two announced their split last November, after which Lachey soon began dating Minnillo, 26, a TV host. His divorce was finalized earlier this year.

According to the article, even though Simpson is the one who filed for divorce, she had a hard time containing her emotions upon hearing the news.

Well, I should certainly think so!

Engagement Rumors of the Week: The British Are Wedding!

2006-12-12T11:50:00.000-08:00

Rumors continue to fly about an upcoming engagement between Prince William and his girlfriend, Kate Middleton. The couple met at St. Andrew's University in Scotland and lived together in a house with several other people. They have dated for two and were first spotted together in public in April of 2004. Although William is denying the rumors that he will propose during the holidays, should their wedding someday take place, it would be one of the few times in recent years that an heir to the throne has married a "commoner," someone of non-aristocratic blood.

Shocking. Just shocking.

* * *

Kiera Knightly (Pirates of the Caribbean) reportedly flashed a humongous ring at photographers last week, while attending a party. And, although she wore the ring on her left hand, it was perceived as a big hint that she is engaged to marry boyfriend Rupert Friend (Pride and Prejudice). Do you see that guy's photo? You go, girl.

* * *

Paris Hilton, on the other hand, is NOT engaged - despite a diamond solitaire she reportedly wore to a party last week, while hanging on the arm of boyfriend Stavros Niarcos. The two have apparently reconciled and are back together. Which means that, contrary to rumors, Paris does not plan to marry Britney. Except in a fake wedding, of course.

Like a Virgin Island: Madonna Attempts to Save Marriage

2006-12-12T10:05:00.000-08:00

Last week, the press reported that Madonna and Guy Ritchie were expressing themselves in marriage counseling. Now I hope nobody's making fun of this, because that really takes guts - especially when the media is following your every move. So good job, y'all.

This week, we hear that because the marriage is "hanging by a thread," they're going to cherish their love on a private island in the Maldives for two weeks. Now I'm not sure how well holidays (however tropical they may be) actually work when it comes to tackling emotional issues...although getting into the groove on a beach has got to be more fun than fighting in the English countryside. However, I certainly admire them for trying.

Still, if you want to open your heart and fulfil your 'til death do us part', then why-oh-why would you take your kids with you, as they have? I mean, I adore my children. But if my second marriage was on the rocks, you can bet your Spanish eyes that my little stars would be back at home with the nona. And maybe it's just me, but when I justify my love - especially in Paradise - I really don't want to do it while making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Well, hang in there, y'all. And, I don't know...maybe hold off on any questionable foreign adoptions for awhile. Just a thought.

With Southern love,

Annabelle

www.SouthernGirlsGuide.com

Conundrum Solved: Life Really Does Imitate Art

2006-12-11T18:42:00.000-08:00

In a really sweet confirmation of life imitating art, Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams - who played class-crossed lovers in the 2004 romance, The Notebook (based on the book by Nicholas Sparks) - are said to be engaged once again. The Canadians, who both hail from Ontario and were born in the same hospital, actually fell in love while shooting the film.

Life & Style reports that McAdams, 30, is once again wearing the ring Gosling, 26, gave her. Their previous engagement was supposedly a secret one, as is this, but the couple will wed after a "touchy" reconciliation. (Whatever that means.) They may even elope as early as New Year's Eve.

Awwwwww! (Or should I say, ehhhhhhhhh?) Congratulations, y'all!

With Southern love,
Annabelle

http://www.southerngirlsguide.com/

Scores Attend Celestial Wedding - Translation, Please?

2006-12-04T15:11:00.000-08:00

DailyIndia.com is reporting the following story, which I bring to you ver batim for your reading pleasure:

MUMBAI, India. 12/04/06. Scores of devotees converged here to pay obeisance to Lord Venkateswara and his consort Goddess Padmavati on Sunday, a day after the holy matrimony was performed.

The 'Srinivasa Kalyanam' (the celestial wedding) or the coming together of Lord Balaji or Lord Venkateswara and his consort is considered highly auspicious. Amid sacred chanting and cluster of banana leaves and marigold and jasmine flowers the marriage ritual was performed on Saturday for the first time outside Andhra Pradesh which has a famous temple dedicated to Lord Venkateswara.

"The lord has come to Mumbai. I am feeling very nice. I am very satisfied (to offer prayers to the god)," said Subramanium, a devotee.

"It feels very good. Lord Balaji has come to Mumbai for the first time. It is privilege and honour. I am devotee of Lord Balaji. So, I am happy," said Meet, another devotee.

The wedding was performed to the oration of the traditional Vedic chanting. The event was organised by the Tirupati Tirumala Devasthanams of Tirupati and the South Indian Education Society in Mumbai.

The idols, brought especially from Tirupati, have been kept for two days for the devout to pay obeisance.

First of all, are we actually talking about statues here? Statues getting married? And since this is the first time the ceremony was performed outside of Andhra Pradesh, then just how often do these statues actually marry? And is this the Indian equivalent of Hollywood?

This sounds a lot like what I used to do with Ken and Barbie. Dress 'em up and marry 'em, over and over, after inviting all my friends.

Secondly, did these devotees (who, for some reason, like to repeat each other) go up to heaven to celebrate this wedding, as the misleading headline of this article trumpets? Or, did the idols come down to Earth to celebrate their nuptials among mortals? And if the "gods" did choose to grace us with their presence, then how did they get here? The Barbie transporter?

Thirdly -- and maybe this is just me -- but if Padmavati really is goddess, why didn't she choose something other than banana leaves and marigolds for her bouquet? Just a thought.
With Southern love,
Annabelle
http://www.southerngirlsguide.com/

Katie Holmes' Wedding Dress Secrets Revealed!

2006-12-04T08:44:00.000-08:00

In other irrelevant wedding dress news, designer Georgio Armani has revealed to Grazia magazine that Katie Holme's custom-designed frock required more than 350 hours of work by hand. This, apparently, just to sew on the Swarovski beading and crystals, which covered the entire dress.

"The veil alone required 70 hours of work with 100 metres of crinoline and 30 metres of tulle!" Armani said.

And here I thought Tom had personally sewn that dress for her.

Well, I'll sure sleep easier tonight. How about you?

With Southern love,

Annabelle

www.SouthernGirlsGuide.com

For Pete's Sake

2006-12-04T08:39:00.000-08:00

Babyshambles singer and songwriter Pete Doherty has made a very big mistake when it comes to his forthcoming nuptials: He has just bought the wedding dress for his bride.

And, shhhhh! It's a secret. He's going to surprise her with it.

Can you just hear the slaps of married men all around the world, as they hit their foreheads and groan on behalf of this naive young groom? Hold on, though, because it gets even better.

Not only has Pete bought his bride's dress, but the bride in question just happens to be one of the biggest supermodels on the planet. As in, international fashion icon Kate Moss.

Oh, but wait. It gets even better still.

Pete bought the dress secondhand.

Oh, yes. Yes, he did.

This isn't the only problem that this charming couple has had, of course, which include drug arrests and multiple break-ups. But you can be sure this will be a major one. And wouldn't you like to be a fly on the wall when the doomed rocker presents his little "surprise?"

Oh, Pete. I realize you're just thinking like the average single guy. You're operating under the asumption that planning a wedding is a joint affair, between two people in love, and that the groom actually has a say-so when it comes to wedding plans. Silly boy!

I understand that, though. I really do. It's assumption many grooms make. Even those who aren't addicted to heroine and cocaine. However, it's also an assumption that grooms are very very quickly relieved of, as soon as the wedding gets underway. If not by the bride, then by her mother. And, I have no doubt that Pete is underoing a same shedding of his innocence, even as I write this.

The root cause of Pete's mistake, however, is that like most men, Pete simply doesn't understand how very far into a woman's psyche weddings actually delve. Weddings are about love. Romance. Dress-up. Fashion. Hospitality. Friends. Family. Travel. Simply put, weddings are our childhood -- every game we've ever played, every dream we've ever dreamed -- all rolled up into one spectacular event. And try though we might, we just can't get away from it. We grew up with it.

While you boys are outside in the rain, hooping and hollering and shooting each other up, you see, we girls (for the most part -- apologies to any tomboys) are inside playing "The Wedding Game." Or dress up. Or house. Or some other version of "The Wedding Game," which is what all these games actually are -- just an excuse to practice for our "big day."

(There really is a board game called "The Wedding Game," by the way. I forced my brothers to play it with me and my sisters. Which, come to think of it, may explain why they're both still single...)

As a result of these childhood games, most big girls still spend a chunk of their lives thinking about and planning their wedding day. Not necessarily fulltime or anything, but at least the occasional indulgent thought...or Brides magazine purchase. And the centerpiece of all this is ...drum roll, please...the wedding dress.

Just as soon as she's engaged, a bride will typically rush out and visit three or four different bridal salons, trying on as many as a dozen wedding dresses in each. And I'm talking, maybe a hundred dresses -- or more -- before finding the right one. It's a ritual frought with all sorts of tradition that often includes her mother and a few girlfriends, and maybe even champagne in the dressing room. And this bride has personal access to designers like Vera Wang, Christian Dior and I don't know who-all else, with the mere snap of her bony fingers. So trust me when I say that some hand-me-down outfit is not going to fit the bill. No, no, no.

Look. I'm not saying this is sane behavior or anything. The fact that brides tend to focus so heavily on the wedding, often to the exclusion of the marriage (dress included) has a lot to do with the stratospheric divorce rate in this country, I am convinced. It's the reason I wrote my book. Well, that, and the fact that my husband drives me nuts. (Love 'ya, honey!)

But, as Walter Cronkhite used to say, "That's the way it is."

In the meantime, I'm waiting for the explosion from London, when Kate learns that her groom has found her the perfect dress, all on his little lonesome. In a thrift shop.

May the Lord have mercy on you, Pete.

In Southern love,
Annabelle
www.SouthernGirlsGuide.com

Four Weddings and a Divorce

2006-11-29T10:33:00.000-08:00

If you really want to make your marriage work, don't have one wedding -- have four.

That's what former Playboy playmate and Baywatch star Pamela Anderson, 39, seemed to be thinking when she wed her on-again, off-again boyfriend, musician Bob Ritchie (aka "Kid Rock"), in four back-to-back ceremonies last summer.

This charming couple first proclaimed their eternal devotion to one another on a boat in St. Tropez. Then they did it again in Beverly Hills, and once again in both Detroit and Nashville. In Nashville, they held their ceremony at the quaint-sounding Tootsie's Orchid Lounge.

Now, in a stunning shocker, the pair has announced their divorce.

What a shame. Especially since GQ Magazine -- a bastian of reputable, objective journalism, if ever there was one -- has just crowned them "Newlywed Couple of the Year."

People, people, people. How many times do I have to tell you? In Hollywood, it's "Newlywed Couple of the Month." Get it straight.

Anderson, who filed the divorce papers, is citing irreconcilable differences. However, widespread reports say that the real reason behind the split is the film Borat -- a mockumentary in which Pamela Anderson is the object of Sasha Baron-Cohen's ...umm...shall we say, "affections."

Supposedly, Rock was not aware of the film's contents (which include very graphic nudity, though not of Anderson -- they wish). Nor was Rock apparently aware of the fact that Anderson was in on the gag all along i.e. pretending to be surprised by Borat at a booksigning. In other words, Rock didn't know his wife could act.

Now how could that be?

Man, and here I thought that wearing a string bikini to your wedding absolutely guaranteed you'd be married for life. No, wait...come to think of it, Pammie also wore a bikini at her beach wedding to rocker Tommy Lee, way back in 1995. Wow. What a coincidence.

Well, Pam, honey, I hope you've learned your lesson. Next time, wear a ONE PIECE! Duh!

With Southern love,
Annabelle
http://www.southerngirlsguide.com/

That Dog Hunts, Honey

2006-11-29T10:27:00.000-08:00

It's not looking good for actress Kate Hudson and estranged hubby, Chris Robinson, lead singer of the Black Crowes.

Of course, Hudson had announced their separation last August, amidst rumors of an affair with her "You, Me and Dupree" co-star Owen Wilson. So it was not surprising that Robinson filed for divorce right before Thanksgiving.

After being repeatedly spotted with Wilson -- including during a recent vacation in Hawaii -- Hudson has finally stopped denying that she and Wilson are romantically linked. I guess so. How else would you explain it to the neighbors when your boyfriend drives his car up onto your lawn in Pacific Palisades and sings Elvis' "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You," accompanied by a boombox?

Now that's love.

The problem is that Wilson has a reputation as a real ladies' man, and has rarely been photographed with the same woman. Until Hudson, of course. Because all it takes is the right woman to cure a man of sex addiction, right?

The good news for eternal optimists is that Wilson was seen shopping for engagement rings on Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, in Dallas. Good thinking, Owen. If you've got to drop a bundle, at least get the ring on sale.

Wilson's publicist insists the actor was just looking for jewelry for his mother, who, in a highly original decoy attempt, was accompanying her son. A source told the New York Post , however, that Wilson and his mother "were looking at a huge, pear-shaped, flawless diamond engagement ring."

Could "O" (Wilson's nickname) be short for "Oedipus?"

If not, it looks like this Hollywood hound dog, 38, might finally be ready to settle down. But for how long? Just last week, tabloids reported that Hudson, 27, was furious over Wilson's flirtations with co-star ... ummm.... the name escapes me, but it's some chick he's "working" with. (Sorry. I can't keep all those women straight.)

Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate. I know he's cute, but nobody -- and I mean nobody -- can teach a hound dog not to hunt. 'Cept Jesus, of course, along with a really good shrink, in most cases. And so far, I ain't heard nothing about Owen Wilson heading toward the altar.

It could happen, of course. But until then, I wouldn't be betting my future, much less the future of that sweet little boy of yours, on such a precarious hook-up.

So shake a leg, darlin' -- and get yourself out of that doghouse.

With Southern love,
Annabelle
www.SouthernGirlsGuide.com

A Very Celebrity Thanksgiving

2006-11-25T21:33:00.000-08:00

In a recent interview with Candice Bergen, the star of "Boston Legal" told her interviewer that she and her family were looking forward to eating the delicious dinner that her chef "always" prepares for them, for Thanksgiving.

You remember Candice Bergen. She won five Emmys for her role on "Murphy Brown," which ran from 1988 to 1998. Ms. Bergen is equally famous for giving big bad Dan Quayle a run for his money, after he criticized her character on the show for "mocking the importance of fathers by bearing a child alone and calling it just another lifestyle choice."

A good point, but one that the late night comediens hooted and hollered about for months, especially after Murphy Brown made the incident part of the show by arranging for a truckload of potatos to be dumped on Mr. Quayle's front lawn during a subsequent episode -- a veiled snipe at Mr. Quayle's one-time misspelling of "potato" (when he added an "e"). The show's writers then took things even further by exploring what "family" really means -- insisting, of course, that "real families" are not just between a man and a woman.

One might say that Ms. Bergen was a little ahead of the curve, politically speaking.

As I trotted back and forth to my neighbor's oven Thursday afternoon to check on my two pies and sweet potatos, stuffed my turkey, and worked on a creamed corn roux , however, I couldn't help but think about Ms. Bergen and all the celebrities eating Thankgiving dinner prepared by a chef -- chefs who, according to a recent article in People magazine, easily earn $100,000 or more per year.

Hmmmm...what a concept. And what would that be like? Wake up at 6 a.m. to feed the baby...no, that would be taken care of by my baby nurse. Sleep 'til 8 a.m.? No -- 9 a.m. Gotta get my beauty rest. Then maybe a bowl of cereal. No, I think I'd have that served to me on the terrace, next to the swimming pool...and as long as I'm going there, I'd probably order an egg-white omelette with turkey sausage. With a cup of Earl Grey. While my kids played with the nanny, of course.

I'd dive into the pool for a few laps, followed by some work on my backhand. I could even wave to the kids from the tennis court -- assuming they could see me through all the stuff piled in their rooms, of course. Finally, my husband would appear (I hope) and we would all sit down together for Charles' fabulous, annual Thanksgiving dinner. We'd then relax by the fire while Maria cleaned up.

Am I crazy to think that maybe that wouldn't be so great? Or is preparing a meal en famille -- not just eating it -- a big part of the Thanksgiving spirit?

Look. It's not like I'm addicted to cooking. Sure, I've taken courses at Le Cordon Bleu, and I can definitely hold my own at a dinner party. As a fulltime journalist/author and stay-at-home mama (I don't get much sleep), the thought of a personal chef sounds like heaven. It's not like I'm in the kitchen making Paula Deen dinners for my family every night. I reply on take-out food just as much as the next woman. It's the American way.

Having my Thanksgiving dinner cooked by an employee, year after year, though...somehow, there's something just not quite right about that. Not wrong, as in morally wrong (although one could certainly question the ethics of making an employee work holidays, away from family). The whole scenario seems just a little out of touch with thankfulness in general. Not that you can't be thankful for Charles' fabulous turkey and his gracious skill at serving that turkey, of course.

But isn't there something incredibly thankful about taking time out of our busy schedules to plan, shop for, prepare, cook and enjoy with those we love?

My sweetheart is in the Middle East this year. (Love 'ya, baby.) And I am thankful that many people invited us to join them for this holiday. Had I gone, I'm sure I would have been treated like royalty -- and there's certainly something to be said for that, eh? However, I chose to spend my Wednesday evening and all day Thursday cutting and cooking for some of the people Mark works with -- single people who live in the dorms. Two couples with no kids. And, while I prepared and cooked all the food, one of my guests brought some dishes and my father-in-law (who, like most men, watched football all day) did the dishes, afterwards. (This is where men truly come in handy during the holidays, in my opinion.)

For me, the meal was an act of service. It was my way of saying thank you to God and the people I love -- and yes, my husband, even in absentia -- for blessing me so greatly.

Don't get me wrong. I'm no saint. I could have dragged my butt over to the homeless shelter and volunteered for people who are really and truly suffering this year. Then again, I got scared away from that idea a few years ago, by the guy who answered the phone at the homeless shelter. When I asked him if we could come down and help out, he said, ever so nicely -- and very rightly -- that they had more than enough people to volunteer during Thanksgiving and Christmas, thank you very much. When they really needed people (and food and clothes and funds) was the rest of the year.

Ouch. Talk about being good and soundly rebuked. So, suffice to say that I wasn't at the homeless shelter this year. I was at home, cooking for 14.

I don't know. Maybe it's just the Southerner in me who thinks that thankfulness and a little bit of work -- even if it's just bringing a casserole or doing the dishes -- go hand-in-hand. Not every year, of course, or even every Thanksgiving. There's certainly a place for eating out -- as well as a time to receive and be waited on. I used to be waited on by my Aunt Nancy, back in Charlotte, who slaved in the kitchen and made all of us Thanksgiving dinner every year, before the Department of Defense saw fit to move us cross country.

But sometimes, we need to serve. And frequently enough that we don't lose the sense of what it means to be part of a country where people, by and large, do not have the luxury of servants waiting on them -- especially during the holidays, when everyone (I think), should be with family, if at all possible. And that includes all those post-holiday sales we could all live without.

Of course, maybe I'm just a proletariat. Who knows.

So, however you got your meal this year -- on a silver platter or an aluminum pan -- here's hoping you were with loved ones, and that you enjoyed every single bite, while finding reason to be well and truly thankful.

With Southern love,

Annabelle
http://www.annabellerobertson.com/

Newlyweds, Marriage and TomKat's Chances

2006-11-25T21:13:00.000-08:00

Getting this posted just a wee bit late...

Thank goodness for the televisions in my gym, otherwise I'd never know what was going on in this world. After all, it wasn't until mid-week that the Today Show -- my regular purveyor of news (hey, I'm a work-from-home mama with a deployed husband), started broadcasting breaking updates about the pending wedding of Tom Cruise and his baby-momma Katie Holmes.

Journalists, however, have been camped out in front of a castle in Bracciano, Italy, a half-hour north of Rome, for a full five days. Tough gig. You can bet that the pre-wedding coverage has put that little town on the map, too. Cash cows for the region will, no doubt, henceforth include everything from the bed where "TomKat" slept to the bidet they reportedly used. I'm sure Bracciano Mayor Patrizia Riccioni is wetting her pants with joy.

Don't get me wrong. They're a beautful couple -- and I certainly wish them well. I'm particularly glad that Cruise has finally agreed to impart some legitimacy to little Suri and his girlfriend , even if it is a full seven months after their daughter was born. One can only hope that unlike most couples, Mr. and Mrs. Mapother will somehow beat the overwhelming odds fighting against this, his third, marriage.

Not that Cruise has been a hound dog, as we say down South. Far from it. He was married to actress Mimi Rogers for 33 months then Nicole Kidman for 11 years, followed by two years with girlfriend Penelope Cruz. In Hollywood terms, that's serious commitment. And he's marrying Holmes just a little more than a year after the two were first spotted together in Rome.

Of course, Tom also has a tendency to trade in his gals for younger and younger models every few years or so, too. But, as they say about Elizabeth Taylor -- at least the guy believes in marriage.

With so much attention focused on Holme's dress (reportedly a cream Armani); the many celebrities in attendance (everybody and their dog -- but not Oprah) and the ancient castle where the wedding is supposed to take place tomorrow, one certainly has to wonder, whether anyone has spent any time on the relationship rather than the wedding.

If they're like most newlyweds, no one has. Elaborate, extravagant weddings have become the norm in this country. But for some reason, we still can't seem to stay married.

In 2000, the U.S. Census Bureau ceased to ask about marriage and divorce for more than 80 percent of all households, which makes divorce data incredibly hard to collect these days. (I guess nobody likes bad news.) Prior statistics, however, reveal that first marriages have approximately a 45 chance of survival. That number plummets to just 28 percent for second marriages. Third marriages? According to statistics, only 15 percent will survive. And if hope just happens to spring eternal and you go for a fourth marriage? Good luck. With only an 8 percent chance of success, you'll need it.

Don't forget that these statistics are without the pressures of Hollywood, where the two short years that Britney Spears and K-Fed remained married (or the three that Nick and Jessica did) can seem like a lifetime.

Think I'm exagerrating?

Tori Spelling and Charlie Shanian: 15 months
Chad Michael Murray and Sophia Bush: 5 months
Renee Zellweger and Kenny Chesney: 4 months

These are just the first few that come to mind. Clearly, serial polygamy is alive and well in Hollywood. But if you throw in the whole Scientology element, things gets weirder by the minute.

The many oddball practices associated with that religion, combined with the control that Cruise reportedly exerts on Holmes (note her glassy-eyed stare) has caused deep divisions between Holmes and her devout Roman Catholic parents. The media is quick to trumpet how similar Scientology ceremonies are to Christian (or "traditional," as they say) ones. Thank you, Cruise Publicity Machine (which needs to be sent in for some maintenance, if you ask me).

According to a book called "The Background Ministry, Ceremonies & Sermons of the Scientology Religion," however, the questions that the celebrant asks of devout Scientologists during a wedding -- and Cruise is extremely dedicated to his religion -- sound something like this:

To the Bride:

"And do you take his fortune at its prime and ebb and seek with him best fortune for us all? Do you?
(From the bride's brain: "You bet, Tom, I take your fortune!)

To the groom:

Now, (groom's name), girls need clothes and food and tender happiness and frills, a pan, a comb, perhaps a cat. All caprice if you will. But still they need them. Do you then provide? Do you?"
(From the groom's brain: "And do you take it on a mat? Or with a hat? How about a bat?" -- wait, that's Dr. Seuss...)

Good grief. For all their modern contrivances -- which, according to one television report, now includes a diamond-studded thong for Holmes' wedding night (ouch) -- it sure seems rather antiquated that Cruise gets to be called by his proper name, while Holmes, his beloved bride, is referred to only as a "girl."

Not that I have anything against tradition. Mark and I chose to "pledge thee our troth" from a 1662 ceremony straight out of the Common Book of Prayer. However, the last time I checked, the Anglicans who penned our vows weren't snorting cocaine, as Scientology founder and failed Sci-fi writer L. Ron Hubbard supposedly did.

Boy, I tell ya. No matter how many people accuse Christians of being backwards, it always amazes me that even practices from the 17th century treat women as equals, whereas so many other religions -- including a cult founded just 50+ years ago -- sits on a firm bedrock of misogyny.

All I can say is, thank goodness nobody made me give birth in silence. Because woe on them.

So, I really wish this newlywed couple a life of marriage and happiness, and I really pray that they will make it. However, I can't help but worry just a little about that sweet-faced Katie Holmes. May the Lord be with you, honey.

With Southern love,
Annabelle
http://www.annabellerobertson.com/

2006-11-13T13:06:00.000-08:00

Hey, y'all!

I'm new on the blogs, so please be nice -- at least until I make you really mad. Which should be in about...oh, another five minutes, judging from experience. See, I used to review films for a living (I still do, occasionally), and there's nothing like a film review to stir the pot!

Anyway, allow me to introduce myself. I'm a Southern Girl, as you might have guessed. I'm also the wife of a military chaplain who is serving God and the United States Air Force (in that order, contrary to what they think) in the Middle East right now. He's in a safe place. But it's heavy stuff over there, so y'all please remember all the young guys and gals who are experiencing the trauma firsthand. It's been bad these last two months, and our troops are some of the bravest people I've ever met. I'll be talking about them from time to time in this blog, so stay tuned.

Mark and I have been married for more than twelve years, and I adore the man. He's hardworking and as honest as your accountant on tax day. Funny, too - especially if you like jokes about obscure biblical characters. And brilliant...honey, don't ask the man a question if you're in a hurry. If all this isn't enough, he's also a looker. Think Tom Cruise, only taller - with no weird religion.

Here's a photo. See what I mean? (I married him for his mind.)

The delightful J.I. Packer, one of our seminary professors and a dear friend, did the wedding -- out in rainy Vancouver, B.C., where Mark and I met then got our M.Div.s, at Regent College. I think our conjugal longevity is a real statement in today's love 'em and leave 'em world. It's also a family record, of sorts. All four of our parents are currently on their third marriage, 'ya see. Mark likes to say we don't have a family tree -- we have a family briar patch. I prefer to think that we love marriage so much in our family, we do it over and over. Kind of like an extreme sport.

Here's the problem, though. It doesn't matter how sweet or funny or smart or gorgeous your husband is. When you discover your wet beach towels spread out on the oil-stained garage floor -- to dry, as my husband explained, like it was the most natural thing in the world -- honey, you will not be thinking about his cute blue eyes, I can tell you that. Heck, one Southern Girl got so scared she didn't even make it to the altar. Remember Jennifer Wilbanks, Atlanta's infamous Runaway Bride? She faked a kidnapping to get out of her wedding. Now maybe it's my imagination, but I think that poor girl must have had a little visit from the bride of Christmas future. I'm telling you - as wonderful as marriage is and can be (and truly, it's the best invention in the world, right after men, turtle brownies and sleeping late) -- it ain't all Cheerwine and roses, either.

In fact, it's hard enough when two oldest children (as we are) get married. Psychologists say that's like two monarchs trying to share the same castle. But when you take a Southern Girl from an all-girl household and marry her to a Type A, Alpha male Yankee from an all-boy household...welcome to the Middle Ages!

Which is precisely why I wrote my book, The Southern Girl's Guide to Surviving the Newlywed Years: How to Stay Sane Once You've Caught Your Man. It's about all the things men do to drive women insane and how to deal with 'em -- and it's coming out at the end of December. The Southern Girl's Guide is the perfect gift for brides, newlyweds but also anybody who's ever felt ... shall we say, just a little bit frustrated with any helplessness, stubbornness and/or forgetfulness that occasionally comes at us from the male side of the planet.

Not that women don't drive men crazy. Of course we do. But I plead the Fifth on that issue. Besides, unlike men, we ladies have a scientific reason for our insanity. Men call it "PMS" and/or "menopause," and certainly, there's a nasty reality lurking behind that little accusation. Having conducted many years of research into this field, however, I am pleased to report my findings, and here they are:

The real reason women are crazy is from years of inhaling secondhand sock smoke.

Yes, you heard it here first, folks. Socks kill. Especially dirty ones, and trust me when I say that I know a thing or two about the damage that those things can inflict upon on a woman's brain when men don't pick them up for days at a time. But, dirty socks are just a few of the other things I tackle in The Southern Girl's Guide. Other marital challenges include:

How to decipher male-speak
Color-coding his possessions for disposal
The importance of keeping the bar low in the kitchen
Pre-deployment strategies for social occasions
Persuading a man to apologize (works best while he's asleep)
Dealing with his mother (including the "Top Ten Mother-in-Law Tormentors")
The no-fail method of motivating a man to do housework -- and plenty more.

The book will be out on December 26 -- just in time for all of your ... ummm ... Boxing Day shopping. And my mama, bless her heart, wants to be sure and ask everyone to go out and please get a copy. Every book you buy, you see, is one she won't have to. For more info, feel free to check out my website, where you can watch Southern Girl TV.

In the meantime, I promise not to drivel on too much about my book. Instead, I'll be drivelling about all the things in life that really matter -- like what Dr. House is going to do now that he's ticked off the wrong dude; why 16-year-old, unmarried Keisha Castle-Hughes (Whale Rider), who just happens to be playing the Virgin Mary in the upcoming film, The Nativity Story, probably isn't going to be doing many interviews (can you say bebe?); and whether Kirstie Alley should have worn that bikini (which looked an awful lot like purple underwear to me) on Oprah.

I just know you're on the edge of your seat.

In the meantime, come say hello at http://www.southerngirlsguide.com/.

With Southern love,

Annabelle