Things I'd Dry Up and Wither Away to Dust Without

If you think about it, the phrase "I'm dying for" or "I'd die for" is pretty insipid. It completely trivializes death, especially deaths that result from a cause. Ok, every death has a cause, but I'm talking about causes that people believe in so wholeheartedly that they lay down their lives for it. Like war and social injustices. Or deaths caused by no fault of the victims, like the situations in Darfur and the Sudan and in some parts of our own country. Those are never to be trivialized. So, in order to effectively and adequately communicate the deep emotion I feel for certain things, here's the new phrase: I'd dry up and wither away to dust without:

My family - you talk smack about them and I'll get all up in your face and let loose the mean lady. That is not a pretty experience. Or one you'll walk away from.

Blake Lewis - tonight that cutie on American Idol took Bon Jovi's "You Give Love a Bad Name" and completely turned it on its head, complete with beatbox licks and spot on vocals. I've had a thing for Blake since the first show when he sang "Somewhere Only We Know." Su-weet! How much do I dig this kid? For the first time ever, I called in to vote on a show that wasn't the finale. Uh, huh. That's right. And Melinda Doolittle - she's one classy woman with a set of pipes that rank right up there with, I don't know, Mahalia Jackson. Or Tina Turner. Or maybe Ella Fitzgerald. I'm showing my age, aren't I?

Chocolate pastry from Andre's - at least once a month my hormones start demanding a velvety smooth confection only Andre's can dish up. If I'm really raging, I'll just cram a whole Hershey Bar in my mouth and sit in a fugue state until it melts. Not nearly as satisfying, but it helps keep the jonesing at bay.

Fritos - on alternate days when the hormones aren't after the cacao, a few Fritos (or a couple of swipes on a salt lick) do the trick.

A good tear-jerker once in a while - it's always therapeutic to let the waterworks fall during a good movie. Top three that never fail to produce: Steel Magnolias, Land Before Time (how sad is Little Foot when he thinks he sees his mommy but it's only his shadow?), Band of Brothers (I know, go figure. I'm completely and utterly moved at the courage and bravery of our vets; my Uncle Bob was a paratrooper and was in the Battle of the Bulge). If you've got some time to kill, the Hallmark Visitor's Center has (or used to have, anyway) little viewing booths that show all of their commercials. It's hysterical seeing all the women dabbing their eyes and sniffling. The men just clear their throats and look at the ground.

Max Lucado books - this preacher man from Texas has an uncanny way with words. He can create imagery that nearly jumps off the page and can nail home a point faster than a Black and Decker pneumatic hammer. Inspiring, relevant, easy, easy to read and faith building.

DVR - When Ron's traveling during the week and Tyler's out and about (which is always) it's fun to sink into our leather chair and watch a whole snorkle of tv I've dvr'd. At one point I swear I had 30 CSI's recorded. I'm pretty sure I could pass the forensic part of the CSI exam. I don't think I'd be as proficient with a firearm. And lest you think all I watch are crime scene dramas, I have a smattering of shows from the History Channel, BBC, the Food Network and HGTV. (And MTV).

Sonic slushes - but only in the hot, hot summer. The few days when we moved into our current home, Tyler and I went to Sonic at least once a day, sometimes multiple times. Grape slush with extra grape. Soooo good. (HAWK!)

My sweet husband, Ron - I already mentioned family, but he gets a special line or two. His energy never ceases to amaze me (and that include the speed at which he can fall asleep - he's been known to fall asleep when we pray together!). He's downstairs right now (at 10:30 p.m.) rearranging the garage so we can put our cute little Prius to bed. He loves me, even when I'm getting up in his face - maybe not that particular minute (hour), but he eventually remembers why he's still here - and tells me I'm cute even when I darn well know that I look like Ma Kettle (take a look at the bottom of the Italy pix). He lets me read silly stuff to him and comes to watch silly things on TV with me. After 26 years (almost) I guess we've gotten comfortable with each other and that's a fine thing. Not many can say that (and really mean it).

So, what makes you irrational, obsessive or just plain ca-razy? What are those things that you can't survive without?