She can try to stop me, but she can’t run in those little high heels!
This child is a monster, but I absolutely adore him.
She can try to stop me, but she can’t run in those little high heels!
This child is a monster, but I absolutely adore him.
Yes, two weeks in a row of The Band Perry. Their latest song, “Done” comes from their sophomore album Pioneer. It’s a lot of fun to listen to. Enjoy!
This chick is crazy. CRAZY. Which makes it funny. Enjoy!
I just went through the Play Something Country Archive and I cannot believe I have yet to post a song by The Band Perry. The Band Perry is a group of three siblings, Kimberly, Reid and Neil that released the song “Better Dig Two” in October, 2012 from their second album, Pioneer. I recommend taking a look at this album, along with their self-titled first album.
This cracks me up every time. A little inappropriate? Absolutely, but worth it!
A long time ago I told you about two of my biggest fears, alligators and needles. Well, it’s been a while, so I thought I would tell you about another one of my fears, so you can continue to think I’m absolutely ridiculous. I am also afraid of BIRDS.
I know what you’re thinking: Terah, they’re harmless.
ARE THEY? I don’t think so.
Let us take a step back. Birds are feathered assholes that carry diseases, use their beaks to attack and walk around like their better than everyone because their arms allow them to fly. Their wing span always bigger than you think and they do that dive thing to scare off predators and to catch food.
Now you’re thinking: what happened to Terah to make her afraid of birds?
First off, let me just say that they’ve always made me a little uncomfortable (Side note: Even worse are the people who have birds as pets. I mean they have wings. Let those demons fly; don’t cage them up). I never trusted a bird, not even Big Bird. My one friend’s mom had two parrots and I always thought their attitude was not warranted especially when the one bit me for no reason. I was so mad at the parrot that from that day, I decided to never trust a bird.
Then, the tipping point was when my brother and I were home alone in the middle of the spring. I hear a little rattle in the chimney. What could that be? Who knows. So I open the flu and ZING. A bird flies out of the chimney and into our house. He’s swooping, he’s diving, he’s freaking out and even worse he’s freaking me out. So I start yelling for my younger brother and I start to cry because I was convinced the bird was attacking me. Tyler runs downstairs expecting to see that I’ve split my head open on the hearth or chopped my hand off with a knife.
“Are you okay? What’s going on?”
Tears stream down my face. “THERE’S A BIRD IN THE HOUSE!”
At that moment I saw Tyler roll his eyes at me. He had been pretty good at hiding it his whole life up to this point. Let me also point out before I continue that I’m probably 12-years-old, making Tyler nine.
The bird swoops from the foyer into the kitchen, tries to get out the window and then retreats into the dining room. Tyler goes into the dining room, opens the window. The bird leaves. Tyler shakes his head walking past me and goes to his room. He may have made a comment at this point but I was in too much shock at what had just happened.
That evening when my parents got home I told them the story and neither of them attempted to make me feel better about the situation.
“Tee, it was just a bird.”
A few years later my dog, Kodi heard the same noise in the chimney, started crawling up it (she was part Pitbull, part Akita and part Spiderman). She grabs the bird with her mouth and then rips it a part in our living room. I saw the whole thing and screamed for my mother the entire time. Kodi then walks over to the closet where her food is kept and expects a treat for her valiant effort. I’m in tears and my mother comes running down the stairs expecting the worst (maybe a burglar holding me at gun point, or me falling and having them bone stick out of my leg).
“What is it?”
(Sobbing) “Kodi….killed….the….bird” (more sobbing) “I saw the whole thing” (tears) “it was terrible.”
More rolling of the eyes as my mother went into the closet, got Kodi a treat and then proceeded to grab paper towels and cleaner to pick up the ripped apart bird.
You can call me ridiculous or crazy. I’ll take it. I know I’m not crazy because I don’t become offended when people call me crazy (the true crazies are the ones you call crazy and they flip out and come close to attacking). I am genuinely afraid of birds.
One day I was walking with a friend at Marist and I got a glimpse of a bird and the shadow of its wings and I ducked and started screaming. She had no idea what was going on, and we laugh about it today, but I was afraid they were swooping.
Seagulls are the worst; no I do not want you to stalk me at the beach. Parrots are rude and talk back to you. And any other bird can die for all I care. The only bird I like is the peacock. Well, I like the way it looks and what it stands for. In real life, peacocks are jerks that get real aggressive real quick.
This sums it up:
One of the main reasons why I love Hunter Hayes is because he has a similar sound to Rascal Flatts. His self-titled album is one of the better albums that came out of 2012. Here is Hunter’s song “Somebody’s Heartbreak,” one of my personal favorites of the album. Enjoy!
When you mention that you’re from New York, people automatically assume that you mean New York City. Well, I hate to break it to you, but most of New York is NOT A CITY. I’m from New York but I’m not from the city. I’m from New York and I didn’t grow up taking mass transportation or cabs. I’m from New York and I definitely did not grow up knowing that NYC is one of the safest cities in the world. I’m from New York and I grew up in a rural/suburban area, with horses and goats in my backyard, a lake a mile down the road and a car because it’s about a 15 mile drive to get to the grocery store.
I am from Ballston Lake, a small town in Saratoga County. Whenever someone says, “oh, you’re from Albany” I cringe. NO. I’m not from Albany. Albany to me is one of the dirtiest places. The only good thing about Albany is their state school and their hospitals. To be honest, I would rather have someone assume I grew up in NYC.
Ballston Lake is an extremely small town with no street lights, two restaurants and a couple of country stores. Ballston Lake has horse farms and trees and wildlife. It’s what I consider home.
When I lived there, all I wanted to do was leave. It was hard growing up without neighbors when your friends could ride their bikes down the street after school and socialize. Once I turned 16 it wasn’t so bad, but the first 16 years of my life were frustrating.
I thought for the longest time I wanted to move to NYC so my mother brought us down. From the second we hit Time Square I knew that NYC was the last place on Earth I wanted to be. When I went to college, I immediately decided to not look at the colleges in their because I knew it wasn’t for me. After college, I looked for jobs EVERYWHERE except NYC. I was willing to move anywhere in the country. I was ready to pick up my life and just start a new adventure. Tennessee, Texas, California, Arizona, anywhere but the city. Once I realized that no other place was hiring except for places in Manhattan, I caved.
I think that’s the funniest part of my life. I live in NYC but I really am counting down the days until I can not live there. Yes, I have amazing friends down here, it’s only three hours away from Ballston Lake and I’ve gotten used to living the “city life” (as my grandmother calls it). But, right now, my heart is in the country.
Why am I telling you this? It really comes down to not knowing what you have until it’s gone. All I wanted was to live on my own and be Miss Independent. And the second that happened, all I wanted was to move back to Ballston Lake, swim in my parent’s pool all summer, bask in the central air conditioning, complain about the ridiculous winter weather and have a car.
When it’s my time to leave NYC will I move back to Ballston Lake? It’s not really the plan but it probably will happen. Living in the city is so expensive that it’s near impossible to save for a big move. Will I complain about moving home? Definitely, but it’s in my nature. Will I secretly love living with my parents? Absolutely, but I’ll only let them know every once in a blue moon; I have to keep them on their toes.
IF YOU PLAN ON WATCHING THIS DOCUMENTARY, PLEASE NOTE THAT THERE ARE SPOILERS IN THIS POST.
Dear Zachary is a beautiful documentary that everyone should watch. I know I say that a lot, but I really mean it. This is the best documentary I have ever seen and I have never experienced emotions like I did when I watched this.
A letter has been written to Zachary about the story of his amazing father, Andrew Bagby. Andrew was everyone’s best friend, best man and role model. He was amazing, warm hearted and placed trust in most people he met. He’s the type of person that everyone wants in their life. While studying medicine in Newfoundland, Canada, Andrew started a relationship with Shirley Turner. Shirley, a mother of two and two time divorcee never made a good impression on Andrew’s friends and they questioned his relationship with her.
When Andrew and Shirley broke up, he moved to start his residency in a family practice in Pennsylvania and Shirley moved to Iowa. Shirley became possessive and drove over 1,000 miles to see Andrew to try to get back together with him. Sometime between Shirley visiting Pennsylvania and her return to Iowa, Andrew had been shot five times and was found dead.
Shirley was suspected of murder and she fled back to Canada. It also turned out that she was pregnant with Andrew’s child. Once their child was born, Zachary stayed with Andrew’s parents, David and Kathleen while Shirley’s trials continued. When Shirley was placed in jail, Andrew’s parents were rewarded custody of Zachary.
While Shirley was in jail she actively tried to get out and was eventually let out because she was viewed as not being a threat to society. While out on bail, Shirley was also awarded custody of Zachary. Issues between Shirley and David and Kathleen continued, but Andrew’s parents were nothing but supportive and were willing to do whatever it took to make sure Zachary lived a long and happy life.
That all ended when on August 18, 2003 when Shirley jumped into the Atlantic Ocean with 13-month-old Zachary in a murder-suicide.
The unique part of this documentary is that the footage had started being filmed right after Andrew was killed and the murder of Zachary had happened during the compilation. The other unique side of this is the rare emotion that you experience from everyone interviewed; whether it be Andrew’s parents, his friends, family over in England and even his best friend, the filmmaker, Kurt Kuenne.
The way the story is told, from so many different prospective you would think it would be completely unorganized and hard to follow. I found myself glued to the television, wanting to know exactly what happened next. When you start the film, you already have a sense that Andrew was murdered, but when you find out that Zachary was also murdered your heart drops, your breathing struggles and your eyes swell up with tears. It’s tragic. It’s something no one should ever have to experience.
Andrew’s parents drew out the most emotion because their reactions were not edited. You heard exactly what they experienced and how they feel. You feel for these people and you pray that their lives get better. You see their struggle.
I wish I could tell you that there’s a happy ending at the end of this story, but there isn’t. A mother and father lost their only son and only grandchild to a sick woman who was proven to be safe when she wasn’t. They lost their family to a woman who should have been locked up for the rest of her life. They lost their family tragically.
I give this documentary 5 out of 5 stars. I kid you not when I say that I cried for half an hour after the movie had ended. I cried because I felt a sadness I had never felt before, and one I pray to God I never have to experience on my own. Check out this documentary on Netflix; you definitely will not regret it.