Growing up in a small, conservative Christian town I encountered many people who were very vocal about their personal beliefs, and oh boy, they had a lot of them. I remember awkwardly standing to the side and listening to heated arguments between my friends and acquaintances, secretly praying for Ricki Lake to come bursting through the walls to referee or send someone off to boot camp. One thing I’ve learned from growing up in this town was that people with a lot of opinions love sharing them with other people and absolutely HATE listening to anything on the contrary.

I rarely, if ever, toss my hat into the ring to offer my perspective on matters. To some, this would be a strong indication that I am weak, don’t have my own set of personal beliefs, or that I don’t feel strongly enough about them. Well, that’s a lie. I have a very strong personal belief system, most of which I feel incredibly passionate about, but cramming those thoughts down other people’s throats is not my cup of tea. If you ask me how I feel about something, I’ll gladly tell you, but I’m not one to run around volunteering my opinion to anyone who will listen, and I’m certainly not one to tell you that you’re flat- out wrong if what you believe doesn’t fit into the same neat little box as my own. I don’t expect you and I to be Wonder Twins in how we think or feel, but do I expect to be treated with respect for being an individual with a unique, educated perspective on the world.

That’s another thing; I can’t stand people who argue simply because they like the sound of their own voice. If you’re going to be a spitting, red-in-the-face monster about your opinions, at least do us the courtesy of not being a complete moron. Do some research. Read a book. Watch the news. Know the facts. Nothing kills credibility faster than being presumptuous and ignorant.

All of that being said, let me just say this:

Kelly Clarkson is a freakin’ god among mortals and is undoubtedly one of the best singers in the history of the universe. Her voice is like a combination of Fergie and Jesus. Anyone who disagrees with me can shut their freakin’ face and just go away and be stupid somewhere else!

I’m all about goals. Realistic goals, if you will. While I dream of being in a big-time advertising agency or a becoming an award-winning author, I know that I need to set small, obtainable goals along the way in order to feel successful and maintain motivation to get to what I really want. So, that is why I’ve started work on what I proudly call “Operation Kelly”.

What is Operation Kelly, you ask? Well, I joined Twitter about a month ago (don’t judge me) because 1) I can’t call myself a member of the media if I don’t stay on top of all the latest trends in communication and 2) I can stalk celebrities 24/7. When I first considered even logging on to Twitter, my first thought was, “I wonder what Kelly Clarkson is doing right now?” (I was secretly keeping my fingers crossed that she was tweeting about how she was still waiting for one Courtney P. to join the site so we could finally begin our magical BFF relationship, thus confirming my suspicion that Twitter was created solely for the purpose of bringing the two of us together. All 2 million members are just part of the ploy to bring this prophesy into fruition. Well played, Internet.) And now that I have complete access to what Britney Spears is ordering at Starbucks, I have to admit I’m a little addicted to the whole thing.

Being as I’m such a big fan of Kelly’s (I call her Kelly like I really know her), I’ve been diligently following her every tweet and starting to gain the false sense that I really know her. The thing is, I want to know her. I can’t explain it or how it even started. I didn’t pay a shred of attention to American Idol and I thought that “A Moment Like This” was kind of obnoxious, but when the “Breakaway” album came out in 2004, I knew it was love. I can’t remember loving a cd that much since The Backstreet Boys’ debut album came out like 45 years ago. “Breakaway” was on repeat 24/7 in my car, on my cd walkman (ha!), and on my computer. It was like I never heard music until I heard that cd.

Then that summer I drove all the way up to Chicago with Clayton to see her perform at some neat-o outside concert hall along Lake Michigan. She was all blonde then and I was dazzled. I told Clayton I wanted to marry her. Not because I’m into her in that way, but because I want to have her in my house at all times sayin’ “Ya’all” and just being generally sweet and adorable. I’d take her to karaoke bars with me and we’d go shopping all afternoon for matching BFF outfits. 6 years, 2 more albums, and 2 more concerts later, I still feel that way.

So, I’ve set the goal of getting Kelly Clarkson to tweet me. Don’t laugh. If Kelly Clarkson were to tweet me and my name on the internet in front of millions of people, I would feel a strange sense of validation and that my stalker-like tendencies could really pay off. Dream big, fellow creepers! That would mean for the .25 seconds it took her to re-tweet “whatever weirdo” or “OMG! You are so awesome! Let’s be friends and braid each other’s hair!” she was thinking about ME.

Let’s pray she never reads my blog.