Operation Happy New Year

As I sit on the cusp of 2009, I am looking back and fondly remembering the highlights (and, let's be honest, the lowlights) of 2008. This was a year filled with personal highs and goals reached, but 2008 also saw a few uncertain and disappointing times for me.

Throughout the past year, I had to face the uncertainty of my future and the changing scenery of my life. I dealt with unexpected loneliness and and a sadness with an origin I could not quite pinpoint, therefore I was unsure how to confront and deal with it. I had to look honestly into the face of my own insecurities and step far outside of my comfort zone. I had to swallow my pride and ask for help. There were many uncomfortable moments and a few nights I just couldn't hold it all together. I filled the pages of my journal, tossed and turned through sleepless nights, and ranted and raved to anyone who would listen. (Let me take this opportunity to apologize to those of you who suffered one of my rants; thank you for your patience.)

However, as for every bad there is always good, I had so many victories during the past year, as well. Getting into grad school and finishing my first semester so successfully was a feat I will remain proud of forever. I discovered a school of study and a career that I genuinely love and have a deep passion for. I conquered my own fears and overcame the loneliness I thought at first would suffocate me. I celebrated achievements and blessings in the lives of my friends (e.g. engagements, weddings, entrances into professional schools, graduations, etc.), and, for the first time in my life, I recognized and understood the true beauty and value of the people who matter in my life. I looked around at my life and realized just how blessed I really am.

I am not one for resolutions, as, more often than not, it seems that making a resolution almost always creates a "dare to fail' scenario. Like a ticking time bomb, it's only a matter of time until you just can't do it (whatever it may be) anymore, and the resolution is broken. Therefore, this year I am simply making an attempt to alter one thing: my attitude. I am not going to make some giant proclamation of positivity, vowing to never utter another negative statement ever again; I'm shooting for the realistic here. (If you know me at all, you that cynicism, sarcasm, and, I'm sad to say, negativity come second nature to me.) I'm simply trying to be more conscious of it.

Maybe I'll call it "Positively 2009" or something equally corny...

The premise of the whole idea is that, in my opinion, a positive attitude affects everything else positively. Perhaps not looking at everything through such cynical eyes or not responding to every situation with a judgmental, biting observation will influence other aspects of my life? I know it may not be quite that simple, but I believe it's worth a shot.

So, faithful readers, you heard it here first. I'm signing on the dotted line, raising my right hand, pinky-promising, and repeating after, well, myself that I'm going to...

try this out.

What's the worst that can happen?

On second thought, what's the best?

Tuesday Be My Friend

Today I spent the greatest day with Ben, one of my favorite friends in the world.
We didn't do anything special, just hung out in Starkville, had a great lunch and enjoyed a little afternoon coffee (and of course talked and laughed non-stop...), but the simplicity of the day is what made it so great.
Considering the distance between New York, New York, and Starkville, Mississippi, Ben and I have seen each other a good number of times since he moved in July of 2007. It seems, however, that every time we see each other there's a lot going on. We're trying to see the sights of New York; he's trying to meet up with every old friend he ever spoke to during his time at Mississippi State in one football game weekend; he's running back and forth between family and friend gatherings all over south Mississippi during holiday visits. Although we always have millions of laughs, things are often hectic and stressed.
Hence the beauty of this visit.
It had no plan; it had no agenda. We had the whole day to fill and no schedule to fill it. It was wonderful. It was almost like one of the hundreds of days we spent lounging around during college, and I think that's why I enjoyed today so very much. I took those laid back days for granted during that time, without even realizing how different my life would be in the not-so-distant future. Today was a throw-back to those carefree afternoons, putting the real world of jobs and higher education on hold for a little while and lazing around Starkville, a place that holds so many amazing memories for both of us.
It was so great to get to really talk and relax and see where the day took us. I know we can never go back to the way things were during our time in college, for it was a different time and life is different now, but, just for today, it was nice to pretend nothing in the world had changed.

Sick Girl

I just returned from my grandmother's house. I wish I could say it was a relaxing and enjoyable holiday, but right now I can't seem to remember much of it, honestly.
What's that you say?
No, I didn't have too much wine with dinner.
Late Thursday night I had my first ever experience with the stomach virus. I think I thought I'd had it before, but I know now that I was wrong. The last 48 hours have been pretty miserable, but thankfully everything seems to be much, much better now.
These last few days have really taught me one unexpected lesson: there are few things as soothing as a cold washcloth lying on your forehead. That little cool square of cloth made all the difference in the world, and I think I'm going to be using that method of therapy a lot more often. If you come to my apartment in the future, don't be alarmed if you walk in and I've got a cold washcloth on my head.
Seriously.
I'm pretty worn out, and am headed off to bed, but just wanted to let those of you who I know were on the edge of your seats know that I did, in fact, get my Nikon I wanted so badly for Christmas. I honestly haven't even been able to really take it out of the box yet, but I'm hopefully going to get serious with it tomorrow. I may still be a novice photographer, but at least now I've got a great piece of equipment to make me look like a pseudo-professional.

'Twas the Night Before Christmas

Yesterday I was chewed out by an elderly man in the Wal-Mart parking lot.
Most of you know of my hatred for Wal-Mart, so when my mom told me she needed me to "run up" there for her, I was certainly not looking forward to the trip. I knew I would have to park across the highway and there would one million people inside, knocking each other down for the last Wii or some such holiday item.
Therefore, when I got there and headed up the aisle to search for the ever-evasive parking spot, I was elated to see a woman packing her groceries into the third parking spot from the front. The third spot! I pulled over as far as I could, put on my blinker, and settled in to wait for my spot.
As I watched this woman load her purchases into her car, I wondered if she could possibly do it any slower. Apparently everything had a certain spot into which it must be loaded, for she had some things she placed in the trunk of her car and others that went inside. While I was waiting for her to complete the slowest loading process of all time, a few cars went around me and, admittedly, there were a couple of cars in line behind me.
All of a sudden this man was standing beside my car, motioning for me to roll down the window. I guess thought perhaps I knew him or he was hoping to spread a little Christmas cheer, so I rolled down the window. Christmas cheer was not what he was spreading, however. He proceeded to tel me (in not the kindest of language) how I was blocking traffic and that if I wanted this parking spot I needed to go around the lot again and come back and get it.
Yeah, right; I'm sure it would just be sitting there waiting for me, sir.
I told him I was sorry, and he responded with, "Ain't no sorry."
I'm not sure exactly what that meant, but I knew one thing for sure: i wasn't giving up that parking spot, not for him or anyone else.
Therefore, I summoned up all my gumption and said, "Sir, it is December the twenty-third, and this is Wal-Mart. What exactly did you expect?" I then proceeded to roll my window up in his face.
My mom said I was lucky he didn't hit me or worse.
I thought that's about how all of yesterday was going to go, but it got markedly better when I went to a Christmas party full of old friends last night. Mary Katherine and Florence combined their class Christmas parties into one party this year, and it was so much fun. Caught up with some friends I don't get to hang out with that often, hung out with some of my favorite people, and enjoyed a true dose of Christmas cheer.
As we speak, I'm supposed to be packing to leave for my family's Christmas extravaganza, but I'm obviously prioritizing. First things first, you know. I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas, and Santa brings you everything you're hoping for!

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night."

All I Want for Christmas

There are so many wonderful things I love about Christmas.

I know sometimes the holidays can get stressful, with running around buying last minute gifts, visiting various relatives and never having quite enough time to squeeze everybody in, and fighting crowds everywhere you go, but there really is something magical in the air this time of year.

From the moment I first drag out my decorations (which this year was about mid-November; I'm not ashamed to admit it), the spirit of the holiday is alive inside of me. Cheesy, I know, but true, nonetheless.
I love the commercials that come on television during the Christmas season. This year a few of my favorites include: the Pampers commercial where Silent Night is being sung a capella while pictures of sleeping babies are shown; the Wal-Mart commerical with all of the various children jumping out of bed and running downstairs to see what Santa brought; the Alltel Christmas commerical in which the phone guys steal the letters to Santa and attempt to re-write them; and, finally, the Macy's commerical in which some of the major designers (e.g. Jessica Simpson, Martha Stewart, Tommy Hilfiger) talk about the ways that Santa really does exist. That little girl dropping her letter into that giant mailbox gets me every time.
I also love the holiday movies that are constantly coming on television during this season. Everything from White Christmas to Home Alone to How the Grinch Stole Christmas (both cartoon and live action) can be found on some channel at any given point in a day. Movies like Cars and The Incredibles and Harry Potter are also constantly airing on television, and I suppose they relate to Christmas... somehow?? Usually, I find some great original movies on television this time of year, but, sadly, I have been a little disappointed with the offerings this season. However, it is admittedly difficult to top last year's Holiday in Handcuffs starring hunky Mario Lopez, so it's understandable.

I love the music of the holiday season, and I love walking into practically any store in any town and being almost guaranteed to hear some variation of some Christmas song playing. It may be some ghastly punk rendition of a song you sung at your pre-school Christmas program, or it may be one of the classics like Judy Garland's original version of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, but you know it's a Christmas tune nevertheless.

One of the things I love most about this season is holiday church services. The music, the decorations, the sheer numbers present in the church and the special messages pastors often deliver make for a very powerful combination. Special choral programs and children's programs are always meaningful and enjoyable, and it really is like there is a giant celebration taking place--a celebration of the birthday of Jesus Christ.

I love the Christmas cards, both sending and receiving. I love the Christmas lights, both tacky and tasteful. I love the baking and the shopping and the wrapping. I love reuniting with old friends and laughing over memories of years past. I love the smells and the foods and the parties and the decorations. I love the magic that is encapsulated in all of it.

This year, I asked Santa for one thing and one thing only. I hope that, somewhere amidst all of the presents underneath our Christmas tree, is the Nikon camera I want so badly. I've been dropping not-so-suble hints since November, but haven't really gotten very far... you know I'll keep you posted.

Massage Therapy

This morning I got a massage.
The official posting of my grades happened yesterday, and, for the first time in my academic career, I got a 4.0. I decided to give myself a little congratulatory treat for all of my hard work this semester, so I called and made myself a massage appointment for this morning.
I love massages. At first I thought I didn't because the first one I ever got was by a man (some might think that sounds like a pro rather than a con, but you would think differently if you had seen Edward...), but I really do love them. They're so relaxing, and relieve tensions I sometimes don't even know I have.
If you've never had the pleasure of a getting a massage (or, like Austin Powers says it, a 'sensual ma-sage'), I would highly recommend it.
I love my masseuse Sandy, who did the one today. She's so nice and friendly. And, let's be honest, I'm sure she sees some nasty stuff. If I had her job, I'd probably be short with people and make sarcastic comments, but not Sandy.
One of my favorite parts of getting a massage from Sandy is that part of it feels a bit like calisthenics: like a little mini workout. Except, it is what I would imagine a workout might feel like if I was in a coma. She moves my limbs around in all sorts of funny positions, while the rest of me remains dead weight. It's a strange but pleasant experience.
I also love Sandy's bag of hot coals she uses during the massage. I'm pretty positive it's not really a bag of hot coals, exactly (more like a netted sack of warmed pebbles, I think), but that's what I like to call it. I can hear that bag of hot coals when she brings it in, and I know a really good part is coming. After that I just about sink clean through the table and onto the floor I'm so relaxed.
That brings me to another observation. I've often wondered how, on television shows like The Bachelor, couples can get massages together while keeping their eyes open and carrying on entire conversations. I couldn't do it. I can't even hold my eyes open, much less attempt to speak. I think if I was forced to speak, it might sound something like the noises Marv makes in Home Alone 2 as he's being repeatedly hit in the head with falling bricks. A series of grunts and wheezes and indecipherable mumblings...
Finally, when I get up from the massage, I always expect my hair to be sticking out from my head in a Medusa-like style due to the oil, but it never is. Just before I get up I always think what a disaster my hair is certainly going to be, but, somehow, it falls into place. I find that to be so odd.
Anyway, I have floated around all day today, all mushy and relaxed. God bless that Sandy, and her bag of hot coals, too...

Welcome to New Orleans

What a great weekend.

Early, early Friday morning Becca and I set out on another anniversary adventure. This time last year we were hitting the streets of New York, but this time we headed south to New Orleans. Katie's wedding was Saturday, and my birthday was Sunday; in other words, we knew it would be a great time.

We must have been traveling at light speed or something, because we arrived in New Orleans before lunchtime. We had the whole afternoon to browse around the French Quarter and see what we could see. We enjoyed a delicious po-boy/muffaletta lunch, and did some serious shopping.

Friday night we hit Bourbon Street for my first ever night out in New Orleans (seriously, the last time I was there I was in the third grade or something). We went to Pat O's and enjoyed a hurricane (or maybe two), but things didn't get too crazy because Katie's wedding was at 11 Saturday morning.

Becca started off Saturday morning worrying me to death about whether we were leaving early enough for the wedding, whether we knew where we were going, if we were going to get there in time, etc, etc, etc. (The worrying continued throughout the course of the day relating to just about anything and everything.) We did actually almost miss the wedding because our directions were not exactly right; special thanks to the man and his son who paused their untangling of Christmas tree lights in their front yard to give us the much-needed directions. Also, once we finally arrived at the church, we had a bit of a parking debacle, but it all ended up perfectly. We got to the wedding with about 6.5 minutes to spare, and Becca practically sprinted into the church.

The wedding was absolutely gorgeous, and unbelievably meaningful. The church and reception location themselves were gorgeous; Katie's dress was the most uniquely beautiful thing I've ever seen; every little detail was special and unique; the homily was one of the greatest tributes to a couple I could ever imagine; Katie and Luke's adoration for each other oozed out of their every smile and touch. Also, above all of that, I got to spend some time with friends I've had practically as long as I can remember, and I had such a great time laughing and catching up with all of them.

Saturday night Becca, Patsy, and I had a phenomenal dinner at Court of Two Sisters then headed back to Bourbon Street, where we met Suzy, Tyler, and Casey. We danced the night away at Razoo, and I rang in my 24th (how did that happen??) birthday with a brief appearance on stage. The night ended with the Becca's wallet being "stolen," and we huddled together on the side of Bourbon to make calls to the credit card company, etc. Poor Becca was an emotional rollercoaster and called just about every member of her family at about 2:30AM; thank goodness we managed to convince her that a call to her mom wasn't necessary...

Before getting on the road Sunday, I experienced another New Orleans "must" for the first time: beignets at Cafe Du Monde. They were as to-die-for as everyone says, and I came away covered in a fine film of powdered sugar.

If it took us light speed to get there, it took us just the opposite to get home. Becca and I both felt like it was years before we saw the lights of Columbus, but we laughed all the way back.

Where will we be this time next year?? We're saying Chicago...

The End of the Act

I can now officially say the semester is finished.

After:
2,191 pages of textbooks
1,341 powerpoint slides
325 pages of journal articles
27 pages of handwritten notes
15 guest lecturers
10 hours of mentoring
9 tests
7 papers
5 presentations
4 quizzes
2 personal journals
1 powerpoint presentation
and countless hi-liters and Post-It notes...

It is finally finished.
It hasn't been easy; it hasn't been particularly fun, but it has been nothing short of amazing, and I feel like I have really changed over these past months. I now know that this exactly where I'm supposed to be, and I'm not sure that I've ever had that feeling before. It's pretty amazing, I'm not going to lie.
Now that all the fun of tests, presentations, and class readings are over, I'll just sit back and wait for my grades to come in.
I'm trying so hard to be patient...

The Day I Turned Uncool: Confessions of a Reluctant Grown-Up

I have a college degree. I live on my own. I pay my own bills, and I file my own income taxes. I own my own car. I have a job. For all practical purposes, I'm a grown up.
For some reason, though, I've never felt like one.
Until today.
I've been battling being sick for about six weeks now, and I decided today it was time to go back to the doctor and finally get this mess cleared up. So, after my violin lesson, I made my way to the same doctor I saw just about three weeks ago.
I checked myself in and read a book while I waited to be called. When I finally got called to the back, I told the nurse all of my complaints, the medicine I took a few weeks ago, and the medicines I'm allergic to. I had blood work done as well as a chest x-ray. I talked with the doctor about possible medicines to get this cleared up, and told her to just go ahead and give me a shot. I received my prescriptions, payed my bill in full and headed to the pharmacy, where I picked up my prescriptions and, again, payed my bill.
I know none of that is really that big of a deal, but for some reason, as I walked out of the pharmacy, the only word that came to my mind was independent. As in, I am capable of and am taking care of myself. It was an empowering thought, but a rather scary and sobering one, too.
I'm not sure if I'm ready for so much responsibility...
In other news, when I went to Wal-Mart to pick up my prescriptions today, I was even more irritated by the place than usual. I've written about my intense hatred for Wal-Mart before, but today was even worse than usual. There were all these kids there with their parents, and, becuase it's 3 weeks until Christmas, they were all hyper and running around like little Energizer bunnies. I must have heard at least six parents attempt to make their children behave with the warning of "You better get back in this buggy/stop running around/put that down... Santa's watching you."
Really? Santa's watching you??
What about the other 11 months out of the year when that skewed method of disciplining a child holds no validity whatsoever?? Santa doesn't really hold much influence in the blazing heat of July...
All in all, between my adventures at the doctor's office and my apparently archaic views on parenting, I headed back to Starkville going approximately 55 miles per hour and keeping my blinker on the whole way, like all the other geezers...

The Sound of Music

I was watching Seinfeld the other day, and Elaine, George, and Jerry, in one of their oh-so-typically banal conversations, were discussing whether they would rather date someone who was blind or deaf. It got me to thinking about which one I thought would be harder to deal with... blindness or deafness?
Last night, I think I found my answer.
It came to me in the unexpected form of the Mississippi State University Choir's Holiday Choral Concert, which I went to on a whim when I got out of class early.
The choral concert was absolutely phenomenal, and I got chills from the feeling and emotion contained in every piece. I felt like I could honestly hear God's power and majesty in their voices; and the guy who played the organ was nothing short of awe-inspiring.
In fact, let me take a moment to tip my proverbial hat to the whole choir; I was beyond blown away with the talent and dedication that was so evident in that group of people. First of all, they were huge; through looking at the program, I estimated about 165 people. Some of you may know that, as an undergrad dead-set on experiencing just about extracurricular activity available at Mississippi State University, I was a member of the choir for a very brief time during my sophomore year of college. (I know, I know... you didn't know I could sing. There's a reason for that: I can't. I'm pretty sure the director just took pity on me because I somehow managed to struggle through to the end of the audition piece.) Anyway, it has definitely grown since then... a lot. Also, beyond being humongous, they were just so good. I mean, they were really good. They really made me proud of my university.
Of all the many, many blessings God has bestowed upon my life, the gift of music is one I treasure most. Words put to music take on different meanings, and sometimes music alone says things that even the most eloquent of words cannot express. Listening to a great song on the radio, hearing a story unfold through the crescendos and expressions of classical music, sitting down at the piano and playing a favorite piece, and feeling out the next note on the violin each stirs deep emotion. That's probably one of the dorkiest, cheesiest things I've ever said, but it's true.
I cannot imagine a world in which I could never hear music.

The Forgotten One

So... in my mammoth holiday movie post the other day, I somehow forgot one of my most favorite Christmas movies, which always brings back memories of my childhood. I know a lot of people have never seen it or maybe never even heard of it, but ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS is one I love. (The day I found it in the $5.00 bin at Wal-Mart was the greatest day; yes, I found it in the $5.00 bin. Don't act like you never spotted one of your favorite movies haphazardly dumped in there with some garbage like From Justin to Kelly or Junior...)

The Favorite

I love Christmas.
Period.
I don't know if it's the December birthday thing or what, but I just love it.
Seriously.
I started listening to Christmas music and watched my first Christmas movie of the season the night before Halloween. I had my apartment and my mom's house decorated by November 15. I'm burning my way through my third "Smell of Christmas" candle. I'm telling you, I love it.
As much as I love the music and the lights and the smells and the excitement, the thing I probably love most is the movies. I'm a movie lover in general, but there's just something special about a Christmas movie.
So, tonight I thought I would share my favorite Christmas movies and a few favorite quotes (because y'all know there's few things I love more than a good movie quote). These are in no particularly order because, let's be honest, I love them all.

CHRISTMAS VACATION

"Can I refill your eggnog for you? Get you something to eat? Drive you out to the middle of nowhere and leave you for dead?"

"Get off me, you fungus."

"Worse? How could things get any worse? Take a look around here, Ellen. We're at the threshold of hell."

THE HOLIDAY

"Iris, in the movies we have leading ladies and we have the best friend. You, I can tell, are a leading lady, but for some reason you are behaving like the best friend."

MIRACLE ON 34TH STREET

THE SANTA CLAUSE

THE NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS

THE POLAR EXPRESS

"But you don't want to be bamboozled. You don't want to be led down the primrose path. You don't want to be conned or duped. Hoodwinked. You don't want the wool pulled over your eyes. Railroaded. Seeing is believing. Am I right?"

"At one time most of my friends could hear the bell, but as years passed it fell silient for all of them. Even Sarah found one Christmas that she could no longer hear its sweet sound. Though I've grown old the bell still rings for me, as it does for all who truly believe."

ELF

"Don't listen to Leon. Leon's never been anywhere. He doesn't have any feet."

"It's just like Santa's workshop. Except it smells like mushrooms, and everyone looks like they want to hurt me..."

"Do you have any friends? Do you have a best friend? Does he have a big coat, too?"

WHITE CHRISTMAS

CHRISTMAS IN CONNECTICUT

HOLIDAY INN

IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE

LOVE ACTUALLY

"I love that word 'relationship.' Covers all manner of sins, doesn't it? I fear that this has become a bad relationship. A relationship based on the President taking exactly what he wants and casually ignoring all those things that really matter to, erm... Britain. We may be a small country, but we're a great one, too. The country of Shakespeare, Churchill, the Beatles, Sean Connery, Harry Potter. David Beckham's right foot. David Beckhams' left foot, come to that."

"We need Kate. And we need Leo. And we need them now. Come on."

"Now which doll shall we give Daisy's little friend Emily? The one that looks like a transvestite or the one that looks like a dominatrix?"

HOME ALONE 2

"You can't be too careful when it involves underwear."

"My grandfather says if my head wasn't screwed on, I'd leave it on the school bus."

HOME ALONE

"This house is so full of people it makes me sick."

"If it makes you feel any better, I forgot my reading glasses..."

"The dope was whining about a suitcase. What was I s'posed to do? Shake his hand and say, 'Congratulations, you're an idiot'?"

"Bring me back something French!"

So, there you have it: the movies that make my holiday complete. Did I leave off any of your favorites??

Anything Goes

As students, we all have that one assignment every semester that we start to dread the minute the instructor goes over the syllabus. It may be a project, a paper, a presentation, or sometimes a combination, but the dread it creates is almost always the same.
We wonder how we will ever get it finished; we toss around ideas and brainstorm, wondering all the while just where to start; we swear this time we aren't going to put it off until the last minute; we talk to our peers about what they're doing, and then regret asking because it makes us feel further behind; we irrationally hope that the assignment will somehow be forgotten or we will just magically run out of class time and be unable to fit it in.
But somehow, days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months. It's a month before finals and three weeks until that assignment is due. We set up camp at the library doing research; we frantically schedule group meetings around work for other classes, jobs, and the occasional social outing; we push through sickness; we work even when class is cancelled. We read and re-read the guidelines of the assignment, and then we read them again, just for good measure.
We edit; we count words; we copy handouts; we change the order of powerpoint slides; we hit save every four minutes. We drive ourselves crazy with proper citations and subject-verb agreements. Finally, we print off the final copy and put it into our notebook, where it will stay until tomorrow when it is finally pulled out and turned in, presented, distributed, etc.
We lie down to sleep and think, "It is finished."
We wake up thinking about it, and we check our notebook three times before we leave the house, just to make sure it's still there. We check again an hour later and one more time forty-five minutes later when our pulse starts to race. Finally we walk into that class, see that professor, and prepare to turn in that assignment. We don't even care about the grade anymore, we just want the thing taken out of our hands, and we think it might be okay if we never saw it again.
Tonight, I completed two of those assignments. Same class, same professor, same night.
My brain is mush, but I'm alive, and I feel like I could do just about anything.

Fear of Drowning

I am drowning in school work.
As evidenced by the amount of time that has passed since my last post, life is crazy busy.
Between the presentations and the papers and the group work and the reading and extra assignments, I'm not sure that I'll ever get it all done. And what makes matters worse is that all I want to do is drink hot chocolate and watch Christmas movies and hang out with my friends, but I hardly even have time to think!
On the upside, it will all be over in two-and-a-half weeks, and I will finally be able to really enjoy my favorite time of year and a much-needed break.
But for now I'll keep trying to take deep breaths to keep from suffocating under the weight of all that I still have left to do.

Crimes of Fashion

WARNING:
What follows is probably one of the most superficial and unimportant writings I've ever produced. The following statements are merely my opinions and observations; they are not meant to offend but simply to entertain.
Thank you, Management

I look at the world like it is a story I'm in the process of writing. Each person I pass or come into contact with is a character, and the clothes they wear are their costumes. Most of their costumes are appropriate and fit into the storyline, but a few catch my curiousity and make me wonder just what these characters were thinking when they made their way to wardrobe that day. Here are a few observations I've made or thoughts I've had recently.
I've seen the good, the bad, and the very, very ugly.
Enjoy.
Shorts can be too short--for both girls and guys.
Aviators should not be worn universally; not all faces can handle them.
Say what you will, naysayers, but a confidently-worn pink shirt on a guy will usually get a thumbs-up from me.
Pajamas are not to be worn in public. The farthest they should stray from your bedroom is possibly the late night drive-thru window at Taco Bell after you've picked up a load of people at the bar.
Not every girl is built to wear skinny jeans.
When you think you can "get away with it" (last night's hair, makeup, etc.), you probably can't.
Chuck Taylors are so cool.
No one believes your beach-worthy tan is natural in January.
I am wary of any male who uses more products in his hair than I do.
There is definitely such a thing as too much makeup. There is also such a thing as too little.
A guy usually can't go wrong in a classic button-down, but I always prefer them tucked in.
If you're going to color your hair, do it regularly.
I love a good pair of cowboy boots with jeans, but I just can't seem to get on board with the cowboy boots/dress combo.
Facial hair is case-sensitive and unique to each individual. Grow it at your own risk. (I really feel the same way about long hair on guys.)
I am huge fan of the vintage/thrift store movement. I do, however, feel that it's possible to get a little carried away...
If you wear a dark suit, wear dark socks. Why is this so difficult?
Uggs... ugh.
Baseball caps usually give guys a sort of innocence that is refreshing.
I am embarrassed for people I see wearing denim-on-denim (affectionately referred to as the "Mexican tuxedo").
I will forever be envious of those girls who so easily mastered the art of the "messy ponytail," a style that continues to allude me.
Cargo pants/shorts are never appropriate. The same goes for "carpenter" anything.
Too much jewelry can ruin an outfit.
Obnoxiously bathing in cologne is offensive to all of my senses.
As a general rule, I believe girls should avoid wearing hats. The occasional baseball cap to class I understand, but beyond that I don't really support it. Fedoras, cowboy hats, newsboys, toboggans, etc.,... no, ma'am.
I love when guys wear glasses.
Crocs are the bane of my existence. If you do not work in the healthcare profession, you have no excuse subjecting your feet to such humiliation.
Whoever invented the short-sleeved dress shirt should be imprisoned or stoned or maimed... or at least made to explain himself.
If you are over the age of 7, you should not even look twice at the table of graphic tees. No matter what.
A t-shirt, hoodie, and jeans will forever be the uniform of the college co-ed (graduate students included...).
Finally, leggings are not pants.
So, there you have it. Today's installment of life according to, well, me.
I read my monthly issue of InStyle, but I am by no means a fashionista. In fact, I have committed a number of the aforementioned fashion "no-no's" myself. I am consantly amused, however, as I walk around campus and various articles of clothing pique my interest, and you know how I love to share all of life's little amusements with you. I can't help but wonder what I'll see tomorrow that raises my brow in curiousity and elicits a quiet chuckle from my lips...

A Political Mess

I planned to make it through this Presidential election without sharing my "two-cents," but, as it turns out, I've got a few things I just want to say.
I'm not going to get particularly political or voice my opinions on the candidates.
Really.
But as the polls continue to close across the United States, I've just got a few things I want to voice.
I believe that it is the responsibility of every American to do his or her civic duty and vote in both local and national elections.
HOWEVER...
I also believe it is the civic duty of those same Americans to be knowledgeable about what the candidate they cast their votes for represents. Not knowing what you are voting for is just the same as tying on a blindfold before you enter the voting booth and letting the pen fall where it may. I don't claim to be a political genius (far from it), but I believe the candidates I vote for are, to my knowledge, the most qualified for the job at hand.
In this ecosystem of academia by which I find myself presently surrounded, I was astounded today at the quantity of incorrect information being thrown around. As I mentioned above, there are many things about politics I know I do not know. For that reason, I try to keep my mouth shut, as I was taught, like many Southern ladies, that politics has no place in polite conversation. Today there were times when I practically had to bite off the end of my tongue to keep from saying something I knew I should keep to myself. From Roe v. Wade to redistribution of funds to tax cuts to waiting periods for handguns... there was misinformation flying all over the place from Republicans and Democrats, alike.
Also, while this issue is nothing new, I was irritated by the number of people using their popularity and status to influence those who were unable to make up their minds for themselves. Be it actors, musicians or bosses, I believe that politics is one of those issues that belongs in its' own category. I applaud pop culture icons like Carrie Underwood, who encouraged all Americans to get to the polls and cast their vote but did not endorse a specific candidate.
Between the pseudo-Liberals jumping on the blue bandwagon just because it's in style right now to do so and the naive, straight-ticket conservatives who voted red just because that's what their parents did, I really don't know which one makes me more embarrassed for my own generation.
Here is a quote I overheard today from an acquaintance close to my own age (and this is just one example; the generalizations crossed party lines, age lines, socioeconomic lines, and everything in between):
"Poor, uneducated people always vote Republican."
Need I say more?
I am stepping down from my soapbox now, as all around me the ignorant continue to masquerade as the informed.
It's going to be a long night.

In Search of the Muse

So, I've been sick for a few days, and while perusing through one of my old journals today, I found a list of random musings I wrote about a year or so ago. Many of my random jottings about life still hold true today, so I though I would share some of those with you tonight...
Dr. Pepper is always best from a can over ice.
I cry at Oprah at least once a week.
Movie quotes can be incorporated into any conversation.
I wish my last name was not so low in the alphabet.
I wear my heart on my sleeve.
Peter Pan has the right idea.
Movie popcorn is always better.
I could live off of cornbread muffins.
I still want a LiteBrite.
Sometimes you just need to sleep 'til noon.
Love should be seen and heard.
Photographs can speak volumes.
I like to pretend that my life has a soundtrack.
Rainy afternoons are made for good books.
Concerts are fun no matter who is playing.
Beer in a bottle really does taste better.
The book is always better than the movie.
Nicknames are always better.
There are few things better than a handwritten note.
Sometimes songs just say it better.
I still believe in Santa.

The Homecoming

What a weekend.

Old friends, new friends, air mattresses, tons of photo ops, movie quotes, mimosas, school spirit, toasts, costume changes...

Just to hit a few highlights.

I have the best friends. You've heard me say it before and, rest assured, you'll hear me say it again. But the fact remains the same. They're amazing. I cannot imagine my life without these people.

This weekend I got to see so many of the people who matter most in my life. Those of you who I wasn't fortunate enough to see this weekend (and you know who you are), know that you were missed. You see, while I treasure every minute spent with each of my favorite friends, it often makes me reflect on how much I miss those who are absent.

It's like a few pieces of the puzzle are missing, so that keeps it from being complete.

As I reflect back over the past 48 hours, I am a little overwhelmed at everyone I saw, everything I talked about, everywhere I went, and how it all seemed to mesh together so effortlessly. To be honest, I'm on a little bit of a sensory overload...

But in a good way.

Between State's Homecoming and Hope's engagement party, I had the best of both my worlds--home and school. Rarely does the world line up so perfectly and come together so neatly.

For the first time in my life, I really understand what the word "homecoming" really means. It's not so much about the place (even though there was a certain electricity flowing through the streets of Starkville this weekend) but much more about the people. The people who made my Mississippi State experience (and I really do believe it's unique for every one of us) what it was. The memories, the laughter, the old pictures, the familiar places and the stories that will never get old.

That's what I believe that homecoming really means.

(Not that I will actually be anywhere but here for at least the next several years. I guess I'll just count on all of you to keep coming home to me?? I'm willing to push the limits of my 750-foot-apartment if y'all are...)

This weekend was just what I needed to give me that final push to last through this next five weeks of school. They're going to be rough, don't get me wrong, but now that I've been refreshed by so many people who care so much about me, I know I can do it.

Love all of you and miss you already.

Coming Home

Whew.

I'm exhausted.

I just finished cleaning my apartment in preparation for my weekend visitors, and you can practically eat off my kitchen floor. I don't know that I would try it, but I'm just saying...

This weekend is State's Homecoming, and some of my favorite people in the world are arriving in Starkville to celebrate the occasion. I am so, so excited to see all of them, and I am looking forward to the special time I hope to spend with each of them.

I love Homecoming. It's usually right in the middle of football season, so sometimes is actually cool weather (or at least not so hot and humid that your hair puffs up the instant you step out of your front door...). Also, lots of alums come back for this game, so you see lots of people you haven't seen in awhile (a characteristic that seems to increase in value with each post-graduation year...).

In addition to the merriment here in Starkville, Hope's engagement party is Saturday night in Columbus, so I will get to see some of my favorite people there, as well. Our Columbus crew always has such a great time when we get together, not to mention the fact that this will be the first time I've seen Bailey since she started her job in DC. I can't wait to hear of all of her adventures, spreading the love of wine throughout the world...

All in all, it's safe to say that I'm more than excited about the coming days. I've got a little bit of a cold, but I'm pushing through; there's far too much fun to be had to waste time on a cold.

I've included a couple of my favorite pics from Homecomings past...

What's Up, Doc?

Tonight I want to start by saying CONGRATS to Day, one of my best friends in the world, on getting into medical school! Day and I have been friends since practically before we could form complete sentences, and I could not be more proud of her. She has been working toward this for her whole life, and she is going to be a phenomenal doctor.
Day and I have the funniest relationship. Well, to be clear, I think sometimes it's only funny to us. We do and say these ridiculous things, and no one thinks they're half as funny as we do. I can't wait to hear all of her med school stories; I know they will entertain me to no end.
All of my friends mean something special to me, and Day is no exception to that. She constantly blows me away with her compassion for other people and her ever-expanding faith. She is the first person I go to when I have a faith-based question, and she helps me to remember the importance of prayer and patience when I get too wrapped in life's daily trials.

Oh, and did I mention that Day is brilliant? No joke, the girls is wicked smart. In fact, she was so smart in high school chemistry that we used to joke that her family had a chemistry lab underneath their house and she would go home and practice the lab assignments in her free time. Joke was on us, however. She didn't need to do extra practice to get the experiments right; she was just smart enough to know how to do them perfectly after she'd barely glanced at the lab manual. (I, on the other hand, was too busy making jokes about the lab equipment and thinking about who I was going to talk to on Instant Messenger when I got home....)

In essence, whether we're being Daria and Lucy, "cutting it out," fantasizing about Disney World or Harry Potter or wishing we could "suck our words back in through a straw," we're almost always laughing, and she continues to inspire me to work towards bettering myself. I know God has amazing things in store for her life.

In other news, I have discovered that I will do almost anything to avoid having to study. To further that idea, (and this sort of relates back to Day, oddly enough...) I have started writing a movie blog. Be sure to check that out if you have a minute, and don't judge me for my sometimes seemingly odd taste in movies...
My excitement is mounting more and more everyday because Ben is coming one week from today. I haven't seen him since June, and I cannot wait to hear all of his recent stories and details of his adventures. I'm sure we will laugh continuously from the time we first see each other until the second he leaves!
Oh, yeah... one more thing. Hey, Bristol!

Art History

I have some very talented friends.
Take my friend Frances (who I've known since practically the beginning of time), for example. She has always been really, really artistic (and insanely talented), but she's recently gotten into photography. If you ask me, she has found her forte; her pictures are so, so cool. I know that's really not the most articulate way of describing them, but that's usually what I say to myself when I look at her newest photos.

"Wow. How cool is that?"

Sometimes I even say it out loud, which is kind of awkward when I'm at work...

She can take the most random inanimate objects, things we walk by every day like grocery carts or old discarded office chairs or signs on the side of buildings or racks of clothes, and make them look like something really unique and unusual. She can do the coolest things with perspective and focus, and she makes really cool usage of natural light.

(I like to fancy myself as somewhat of a novice photographer, even though I lack the proper equipment and, quite frankly, any extensive knowledge whatsoever about the art form.)

I may not know all of the proper terminology, but I know a cool picture when I see one. Frances can always find some cool new way to bring to light something I've probably passed blindly by eight-hundred times in my life.

I know there's beauty in a da Vinci and fascination in a Mirot, but I think I prefer Frances' brand of art.

The art of the everyday.

Fall In

Fall has come to Hartness Street, and I, for one, am loving it!

In fact, I am sitting on my back patio enjoying a perfect fall afternoon this very minute.

It seems that all too often in Mississippi we bypass fall to get straight from summer to winter, so everyone is really trying to soak up every minute of this gorgeous season while it lasts. All over campus people are sprawled out on the grass, napping, studying or talking with friends; walkers and bikers pass each other on the sidewalks at all hours of the day; people linger at outdoor restaurants and bars, enjoying the breeze; some classes are even being held outside.

In addition, fall mums and sunflowers are appearing by front doors; pumpkins of all shapes and sizes can be seen everywhere you look; scarecrows keep watch over gardens and ghouls; Halloween decor fills the shelves of stores; everyone's talking about costume ideas.

It seems impossible to be in a bad mood when everything around me looks so cheerful and welcoming.

I spend many of my free afternoons sitting outside at the bookstore or the bakery on campus as well as the bagel cafe just up the road from my apartment. Although I am under the guise of studying or reading for pleasure, I often find myself just looking around at the changing scenery around me, and I watch other people enjoying the beauty of the afternoon, as well. (Don't take that to mean anything creepy; you know people-watching is one of my favorite pasttimes...)

I've even brought the season into my own apartment with a few flowers and pumpkins of my own. It seems that somewhere deep inside of me there's a homemaker just dying to come out; she manages to stake her claim a little at a time. I think of her when I return home to my apartment at the end of the day and can still smell the lingering remnants of the harvest scented candle she loves to burn...

I should probably bring this to a close, for Katie is, at this very moment, en route to visit for the weekend. It's time again to take part in another of my favorite fall institutions: football. (Okay, so I may not love the actual football so much, but I do thoroughly enjoy the tailgating...) If tomorrow's weather is anything like today's, it will be an absolutely perfect day.

p.s. special thanks to my friend Laura for the use of a few of her gorgeous fall pics. i'm insanely jealous of her recent trip to the mountains and rather impressed with her photography skills, too.