A Year in Review

What on earth have I been doing with my life?

Case it point, I started writing this blog December 31st- you know, like a month ago. Isn't that terrible? I thought that surely with classes ending and rotations starting I would have all of this time to be crafty, sew clothes, write blogs, help plan friends' weddings, pintrest excessively, etc. etc. But the truth is I got thrown into the real world head first and I'm still reeling. Of course rotations are wonderful and I am in love with all the sweet special littles I get to see and not having homework for the first time in my 24 years is the best.thing.ever. No, what gets me is the schedule. I get up at 6:15 or 6:30 (ok who am I kidding, its 6:35 now), go to work all day, come home and force myself to run so I don't go insane, watch Jeopardy, eat and pass out in my bed. I am regular par-tay animal. Seeing as I went straight from college to graduate school I have never actually had a real job apart from being a camp counselor. After my first full day, I called my mom to apologize for all the times I made fun of her for falling asleep during "Project Runway" because I get it now. At 9:30 I want nothing more than to curl up in my bed and sleep.

Of course I am getting to do all of this in Greenville so I can't really complain. I can't even explain what it's like to be back. Sure I miss Charleston because I adore the beach and of course adore my friends there even more. But nothing can compare to the fresh mountain air here, being in my favorite coffee shop without homework to do, finding a new incredible church and getting to do what I love. Basically, God knows what He's doing- which is a good thing because if we'd followed the plan I came up with when I was 16 I'd be married and living in Ireland. 2011 was a rollercoaster of a year. There were tears and triumphs, times I just wanted to curl up and crawl and times where my heart broke for the world around me. But I also got to make some truly amazing friends and learn more about myself than I ever thought possible while living in a place that only God could make so beautiful. And I finally fulfilled the dream of my 10 year old self and visit the continent that has called to my heart for so long. I made friends thousands of miles away in East Africa and friends down the street. 2011 was pretty stinkin good but so far 2012 looks bright.

But because I'm incredibly cheesy and love things like this... here's my year in review.

Flights taken: 6

Continents visited: 2

Days in Uganda: 10

Times I played the entire "The Reckoning" album from Needtobreathe: 20 and counting

New bands discovered and subsequently can't stop listening to: 10

Diet Cokes had: let's just not say and say that we did

Seasons of Arrested Development watched (for the 3rd time): 3

Times my childhood ended: 1- I'm looking at you Harry Potter.

Books read for fun: 15 (including the Hunger Games which if you haven't read you need to right.this.minute)

Harry Potter books read over Christmas: 4

Times bathroom flooded: only once but it was incredibly traumatic

Times "Super Bass" played: shameful

Times moved: 2

Times then vowed to move never again if I could help it: Countless

Classes taken: 15 (ish)- I think I might have blocked some of them out.

Blogs read: Also shameful

Hours spent on Pintrest: Let's not go there.

Awesome years: 1

Grad Life

You know you're in grad school when...

1. You open up "Catching Fire" and your bookmark is a notecard of muscle grading scores.

2. You only know what day of the week it is based on what class you have.

3. The med student in the elevator laughs at your 24 case of diet coke.

4. Caffeine makes sense as a food group.

5. Facebook seems like the most appropriate form of communication with other people.

6. You washed your hair with water from your Brita filter (and were totally ok with it)

Apparently I have less than 2 weeks of class left (ever!) including final exams. If anyone would like to tell me where the past 18 months have gone I would must appreciate it. Also, if you really want to move the giant 300-lb couch in my living room....come on down! My dad wants to throw it over the balcony but that seems like maybe not a good idea.

Little Smiles

Its very nearly Thanksgiving which means its very nearly exam time which means stress levels are increasing exponentially. Little reminders of happiness and joy in life are even more needed now. Here are my little smiles from this week...

21. Diet Sunkist

22. A week full of long runs

23. Playing wii with sweet little ones

24. Taking engagement pictures of friends

25. A trip to Furman, no matter how short

26. Changing fall leaves and Krispy Kreme runs

27. Cherry flavored Candy Canes

28. Bon Iver and "Skinny Love"

29. Answers to prayers for rotations

30. Some much needed perspective

Little Smiles

This week I am thankful for...

11. Halloween Costumes.

12. Laughing with these ladies.

13. Kudu Coffee and sweet friends.

14. Finally being done with student research!

15. Playing Batman with my favorite little guys.

16. Pintrest.

17. Weather cold enough to finally need scarves.

18. Wonderful Sunday Worship.

19. Remembering Wales.

20. Getting the water cut off for 24 hours and remembering to put things into perspective- to think of this:

Dancing with the Stars! Or why I need to eat my words.

I need to make a humble pie and eat my words.

I have been watching Dancing with the Stars and I havent hated it. Actually, I've kind of liked it. I used to make fun of my parents who dutifiully watched the show each week. My dad, who's appreciation of dance is less ballroom and more disco, called in every week to vote for Ty the Bullrider who bless his heart was not a dancer but was endearing and southern. I'm not sure when DWTS became an acutal show I watched, it just sort of creeped up on me. Really I think it all started with a few seasons ago when Evan Lysacek was on. I watched because he was Olympian and I LOVE the Olympics.

A simultaneous awesome Olympic and STYLE moment.

Where this love of all things Olympics began I'm not sure but it might have been the 1996 Atlanta Olympics. For some reason I begged for a stuffed Izzy, the mascot of the games, and must have subconsciously chanellled my disappointment into an obsession whenever the Olympics are on. I wanted to be one of the girls on the gymnastics team that took gold with Kerri Strugg's vault. I also wanted to be a dolphin trainer around this time and we see how well that went. But I secretely really love the Winter Olympics because of the ice skating. I actually have an autograph from Nancy Kerrigan and used to have a giant Kristi Yamaguchi poster in my room. Fun fact: for at least 5 years I asked for a pair of ice skates for Christmas despite the fact that a. it never snows in SC b. the only ice we get in ice on the road and c. we don't have an ice rink in our town.

The Izzy in Question.

One of my favorite interpretive dance/ ice skating/ bride dress up costumes.

Despite not being an ice skater or a gymnast, I still love the Olympics. I will stay up all night watching the Opening Ceremonies just to see Team USA walk in (although I think the OCD part of me just really enjoys all the matching). I love the spectacle of it - like the insanity of the Bejing Olympics and that giant bird's nest and my utter confusion during Toronto. I cheer on my favorite athletes and will watch even the most obscure sports with enthusiasm. I could SO be a trampoliner- London 2012 anyone? I will constatnly check NBCOlympics.com to keep up with the medal count and I just love when the underdog wins.

This is all a way of saying that I love the Olympics and I love when Olympians are on TV.

So when Evan (we're on a first name basis) was going to be on DWTS I was so excited. I would even watch a show like DWTS to cheer him on. He was the Golden Boy of the Olympics after beating out perma-winner Evgeni Plushenko (who is also mildly terrifying). How could I not cheer on Team USA?

What I didn't intend was getting so invested in the show. I ended up actually caring and, be still my heart, voting. And I was so irritated when one of the Pussycat Dolls beat him out for the champ title. Because really she was already a quasi dancer and that's sort of like winning American Idol with autotune. I thought after Evan's season I would surely be over my actual enjoyment of the show since there are only Olympians every 2 years. Ummm no. I ended up caring even more. I loved Romeo (or 'Lil as I call him cause we're friends like that) and his incessant twitter promotion. I was irritated when Kirstie Alley came in 2nd. Basically I cared. A lot. And that? Was weird.

Evan being awesome. One time he dressed like Prince Eric- bonus points!

So this season things have definitely been amped up. Since I can't acutally watch them live in watch them on Hulu. This means I am volutnarily watching while I study. Oh dear. I'm one step away from being my dad and calling in and voting. I've fallen in love with Carson and his flamboyancy and even Rob Kardashian who really seems like a nice guy who's probably sick of being on reality shows with his sisters. I even don't hate Nancy Grace. I'm actually quite terrified of her (mostly its the hair) but I keep wanting her to come back because her partner is adorable and Irish and I think he should just talk for the whole show. Apparently my affinity for Irish accents far outweighs my fear of helmet hair. And how do you not love JR? I mean he's a veteran, a burn surivior AND a balling dancer. Team USA indeed. I have come to love Len's persnickety old man routine and Bruno's utter ridiculousness when he just needs to tone.it.down. Carrie Anne is less exciting to me given her lack of awesome accent.

So I guess I owe my parents an apology. It is not a stupid reality show. Well, maybe it is but its one that has sucked me in and made me like it. And that, in the words of Bruno, is AHHHMAZING.

Little Smiles

In the midst of this crazy, grad school-filled life, I find myself far too often getting caught up in the little things and stress and losing out on the wonderful, beautiful moments that fill my days. So this is my attempt to capture those moments, to remind myself why this life might be crazy, its still crazy beautiful.

This week, my little smiles come from....

1. Booking a flight to Nashville to see this lovely lady!

2. Starbucks dates

3. Greenville in the Fall

4. Apple Cinnamon Cheerios.

5. The fact that my mom still tells me when "Its the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown" is on.

6. This.

7. GORGEOUS running weather and long runs.

8. Finding new music. Right now its:

and

Ed Sheeran + Dispatch Sampler

9. Halloween Costumes. This year I'm a cupcake. Of course.

10. Reminders of truth.

So I'm 80% a Grown-Up

So last week was my last Level I fieldwork before I leave for my "big-kid rotations." These are the week-long clinicals where they don't quite throw everything at us and really its to get you ready for what's to come. Seeing as we only have about 6 weeks of class left, grad shool is coming to close and I'm terrified. Because I really will have to be a grown up. But for now I will sumberge myself in Charleston and soak up my time left here.

But here is what I learned on my week back in Greenville...

• I'm REALLY glad I'm not in medical school.
• Old people are still really adorable.
• I still like kids.
• The most adorable old ladies will give you a "Gurl I will cut you" face. You have to watch the cute ones...
• Greenville at 6 am is REALLY cold- even in october.
• Theres nothing like a southern good ole'boy talking about shooting deer in your clinic.
• How to make an egg sandwich (although I'm not sure it was edible)
• I need a constant flow of caffeine. Constant.
• Its really awkward when your allergies leave you crying in one eye. And your patient will ask why.
• Scrubs are the best uniform ever- just like pajamas!
• Scrubs fake you out on how much you actually look like.
• Greenville is crazy beautiful in the fall.
• Nothing like going back to your college food court- people will freak out and might lift you awkwardly in the middle of the moe's line.
• Going back to college WILL make you feel old when you see how everythings changed- Just go with it.

iSaga

Its been a good four years...

My iPod is currently in the ICU with my dad as the lead surgeon and we just dont know if she's going to make it (apparently my iPod is a girl although I don't know how I determined this). We've spent many a mile running togher, many late nights studying the Furman library, countless drives to Greenville, Charleston and Virginia. You could say we're close. Really its not any sort of special iPod- just the classic one my parents surprised me with in college. But still, even though its not the newest one, I love it and how it holds all my music (even my teenage agnsty music and broadway soundtracks- I'm a musical schizophrenia y'all).

So when its battery completely died I sort of freaked out. Hmmm, maybe the battery showing red after 12 freaking hours of charging isn't a good sign. So instead of taking it to the Apple store to pay for them to send it off, replace the battery and pay for the 5 whole minutes of their time that it would take one of their iPod geniuses to do the job, I ordered a battery kit online. As I waited for my precious package to arrive (like a little kid at Christmas), I watched video after video of how to actually replace the battery. I was ready and felt totally geek chic. So that fateful Saturday afternoon when it finaly arrived, I was so excited to have an iPod again. They even sent me the nifty "iTool" which, while easier than using a guitar pick like one video, seemed a little thick to pry open a watertight iPod. Hmmm...

Cut to an hour later and guess what? My watertight iPod is still watertight. Yes I spent an entire hour trying to open it with no avail. There were far more cries of frustration than I would like to admit although the Carolina game was on and Garcia was throwing interceptions so it wasn't as awkward as it could have been. I called my dad so many times (because don't dads always fix these things?) and I'd like to plead the fifth for what I said, although "I can't run and I'll be fat" may have been mentioned. I was a complete wreck not because I didn't have an iPod but because I couldn't finish what I started. So I did what anyone would do- I put it down like a sane person and went to get desserts with friend. Carrot cake can cure anything. The next day I went a got a cheapo mp3 player to run with as a backup and figured I would wait til my parents came into town later that week because dads can fix everything right?

Wrong. I thought surely my dad could do it and he even told me he would bring his tools. I dind't know that that meant his acutal tools because don't you need a screwdriver to pry open an iPod? After dinner and a run to Target, my mom started to clean the carpets while my dad hunkered down (fueled by Krispy Kreme donuts) to fix the it. Don't tell us we dont know how to live. It had been about an hour and still no change. Funny the website said it should take around 20 minutes... I walked in to check in on how he was doing and sort of screamed. The iPod was open alright but it sort of looked like, well it looked like our dog Scarlett had chewed the edges up and spit it out, if she were to like iPods as opposed to tennis balls and chocolate. I couldn't help but gasp. I was going to take a picture but then my dad would have known I was going to blog about it, duh-huh.

At some point he got the replacement battery in but its still in two pieces. I was told expressively not to talk about the iPod, mention the iPod or be near the iPod. Apparently my presence? Was stressful. When they left the iPod was still in two pieces and I was armed with my dad's for the time being. Even if it were in one piece I'm not quite sure it would work. My parents left for home and my mom sort of half-way whispered that she would make my dad get me a new one. Its only fair really, I mean he did break it. So until my mom convinces my dad to get a new one (which will probably be from ebay because the man loves him some ebay), I'm rocking around town with his iPod. And because Fall has decided to grace Charleston with its presence (probably because I wrote a blog about it), I am able to run again (and hopefully not get fat since that what I was freaking out about). So if you see me bopping around town listneing to the Doobie Brothers, you'll know why...

- Right after I finished writing this Steve Jobs passed away. Thank you, dear man, for your innovation and vision and for giving us so much.

Feeling Fallish

Y’all its here! Finally! It’s the second most wonderful time of the year- Pumpkin Spice Latte time! The first most wonderful time is of course Winter when Starbucks has the Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha (yum yum!). I am a firm believer that our seasons should be centered around Starbucks seasonal drinks- it just makes sense. Fall is my FAVORITE season. To me its scarves and changing leaves and college football and pumpkin everything and apple picking and sweaters and hiking. I adore Fall. I also went to college in Greenville, which has an incredibly gorgeous Fall. Seriously, I’m so excited to go to Homecoming partially because its going to be so lovely which leaves everywhere, crisp fall air, and easy access to hiking.

Apparently, Charleston has not gotten that message. Now I am Southern enough to understand that September is not the Fall, no matter what the calendar may say. I know that the first football games of the season will be unbearably hot and you should always pray for a night game. A few weeks ago when a big storm moved through I was unbelievably excited because it meant I got to actually need to wear jeans and a sweater. Oh how exciting! Of course then our parking lot was flooded for a good 3 days and my car now vaguely smells of crayons so there’s that. I even went a got a Pumpkin Spice Latte just ‘cause I could.

But my joy was short lived because just 2 days later it was back up in the 90s and humid, humid, humid. My happiness in walking to class without sweating, and of running outside without getting heat stroke was gone. There is just something so wrong about having to wear shorts this late in September and really the sweating on the way to class thing is just getting gross. Every time it looks like its going to rain I get excited thinking its going to cool off. And then it backfires and just gets muggy (and the parking lot water level rises yet again. Cue the mildew).

I would also like to be able to eat outside without having to drink a whole liter of water. Call me crazy but when its officially Fall I prefer to not be dehydrated by sitting outside. Get with it Charleston. Not that I want you to be cold yet but can you give me a little breeze, a few changing leaves? Am I being too demanding here Charleston? I even made a pintrest board for helpful hints as to how you can be more Fallish.

Step 1: Cool it down. I mean uppers 70s would be nice. Its almost October- you do not need to be in the upper 80s. Also I have lots and lots of scarves and seeing as this is my last class semester, I want to get the most out of these scarf/jeans combos.

Step 2: Get a little breeze so that the delicious smells from Starbucks and Halo can fill the air when I’m in class.

Step 3: Provide me access to Carolina home games. This might be a little more difficult but I think we can work it out. Also I would like this puppy with a Carolina collar.

.

Step 4: Import me some good apples. Seriously, this is not negotiable. I’ve lowered my standards of wanting to go to the orchard but the least that you can do is import some.

Step 5: Build me some hiking trails. Ok this may be asking a bit too much. Sometimes I forget I don’t live in the mountains anymore. Then I get sad. Then I remember I live by the beach and I feel better.

I think we can really come to an agreement on this. Because I really like Fall but I also really like Charleston. So get to in Chucktown- turn the thermostat down, amp up the leaves and bring me a Pumpkin muffin stat.

Oh Sweetness

I was in a sorority in college. Its sort of weird to graduate and realize that in the real world not everyone knows what different sororities were like at your school or even what the greek system was like. Since my school was small, rush was not a big deal (at least until you got on the other side and spent hours making hair ribbons. yeah.) It also wasn't a huge deal to rush or not rush and there were no houses, just halls. Pre-college my idea of a sorority was part "Legally Blonde," part "Mean Girls," and part "Animal House" and I'm pretty sure if I had gone to a bigger school I would have run in the opposite direction.

Yep. Totally not one of those girls.

I'm not even one of those people who creepily have everything they've ever owned emblazzoned with their letters, including their bodies. I mean I still wear the t-shirts because really can you ever have enough t-shirts? And even though I was voted "Most likely to have a secret dolphin tattoo" I can assure that I do not. And a dolphin? This is not 1998. But really I treasure those 4 years of delta-ness because of the incredible friends it brought into my life. I won't be all sappy and talk about how all of my best friends are really sisters and such- its just that it was a way for me to meet certain girls who changed my life. And this post is for one such girl..

I met Allison at the Student Activities Fair my freshman year when students new to the Furman bubble walk around and learn about all the different organizations. Fresh off the overwhelming, over-committedness that was my senior year, I wasn't ready to jump head first into too much. But of course all of the sororities are out there and you have the chance to meet some girls in the most un-awkward way (kidding!). But Allison bounded right up to me, introduced herself, and we bonded over our mutual names. And that was it. I knew I wanted to be a Tri-Delt. Seems silly to base that off of one person but I had met some other girls, she just really cemented it. I remember my mom commenting on how nice she was when she introduced herself at Family Weekend. Oblivious to "rushing," I just wanted to be that girl's friend.

So rush rolls around and long story short, I went Tri-Delt and waiting for me on Bid Day was Allison, giving me a huge hug. Fact: her hugs are awesome and the way to my heart is through good hugs.

Homecoming my senior year- this hug lasted a good 10 minutes.

I loved her joy and zest for life, her always matching-ness, her love of pink that matches my obsession with all things turquoise, our intense love for our dogs (her pugs and pomeranian, my labs and dachshunds). I knew I wanted her to be my big sister and when I got a matching brown headband with polkadots with one of my gifts? Yeah I thought it might be her. This is also when we officially founded the pink princess family that continues to this very day.

The thing I love most about our friendship is that it always went beyond being in the same sorority or having a mutual love of Disney Princesses (she likes Belle, I like Ariel) but she was an incredible friend. Fiercely loyal, encouraging, goofy at the right times and always a shoulder to cry on. Her love for Jesus is inspiring as is her optimism and her contagious giggle/laugh we all love.

An excellent depiction of our goofiness and love of all things delta.

Y'all thought I was kidding about the princesses? Nope.

Her friendship is one of my favorite things about college. So of course when she called me to tell me about her engagement I sort of freaked out. And by freaked out I mean I squealed a whole lot in the middle of my buildings laundry room (guess who's neighboors still think she's a little crazy?!?!). It was the most wonderful call (and you should read about it on her blog! http://allicatrenfro.blogspot.com/)! We both kissed a few frogs in college and cried right along with one another, so to see a dear friend find that forever love is kind of a big deal. Like dance around your living room big deal. As I told her, she is proof that there is love, real love, outside of the Furman bubble. I could not be delighted for a more wonderful lady for she soon surpassed big sister into real sister in my heart. I know that not only will she have a beautiful and joy filled wedding, she will also have a beautiful and happy marriage. As she plans her wedding, I have also mentally decided that her pom, Chewie deserves a wedding portrait as well. Did you know that when pomeranians are the chocolate color they are instantly 12 times cuter? Seriously, Google Image it- those things are cuuuute.

So for you my pink, sparkling, lawyer princess, I am so so happy you found your prince charming!

Freshman initation-we look so little!

Ultimate Grand Supreme

Friends I have a confession- last night I watched Toddlers & Tiaras. The most acurate description I can find is like watching a wreck on TV- you don't really want to but you just can't turn away. Seeing as I've never been to a child paegant (what with there being no petite ones) I find this world quite fascinating. When I'm home my mother and I have taken to yelling out "Maaaaahy NiNi," a catch phrase from one of the "pros" at what may or may not be appropriate times. The kids are pretty cute although they don't look much like kids by the end of it all. Mostly they look sort of like dolls and since dolls- you know those creepy ones whose eyes follow you- freak me out, I am sort of terrified by this part of the show. The contestants have beauty (where they are judged on "facial beauty"), sometimes a talent portion and the perinneal favorite Wow Wear! Apparently Wow Wear is when the kid can wear whatever they (or their coach) want them to wear. This can range from anything to themed days to 80s wear to being a celebrity to being Julia Roberts in "Pretty Woman." Yes, you read that right. Julia Roberts in "Pretty Woman," as when she was a prostitute. Now I love that movie and I appreciate Julia and her crazy hair but that isn't something to be parading your 3 year old as. Apparently this pageant mom is now in hiding. Wellllll duh. Most people won't take to kindly to that. The sad thing is she won Ultimate Grand Supreme. Yes, queen is just not good enough so you want a supreme title where the crowns are roughly the size of a sidetable. I'm concerned about these children having back problems.

Yes People, it has.

The kids, cute though they may be with the exception of a few who their mothers call brats, are not the real stars of the show. No no. The real stars are the moms. Every once in a while there will be a nice well-adjusted mother who just wants her kid to have fun but that makes for rather boring TV. The heads that be over at TLC have hand-picked the most ridiculous mothers they could find. There are 3 basic types...

1. The former beauty queen- This type typically wants her daughter to follow in her footsteps despite the fact that their child may be the most wonderful soccer player ever. This mom is often seen at the side of the stage wearing a crown herself and doing exactly the same moves as her child. Please see Amy Poehler in "Mean Girls" for a reference.

2. The cray-cray one- One mom last night described herself as the "insane pageant mom." Yeah, not comforting. This is the mom who will say absolutely bizarro things, giggle incessantly, freak out when their child does not "pull for a higher title" and overall just give off that "we're going to have to put you on 'Hoarders' for hoarding all of your child's crowns" vibe.

3. The uber- competitive one- This is the mom who says she will "do anything to win." This includes but is not limited to mortaging the house. She will go find the pageant director when something is just the tiniest bit off or the music is wrong and she will storm off so don't get in her face.

Most of these women I'm sure have been edited to fit the story that TLC is selling but doggone if the editors aren't fantastic at it. As soon as the mom says little Miracle just loves pageants they cut to Miracle talking about how much she hates it. Check and mate TLC. They also choose to show the pageant moms in the most unflattering angles (playing up that whole living through your child things) and those lovely moments where the mom has a little touch of crazy around the eyes.

As entertaining as the editing may be, I just don't get it. I've had friends who've done Miss America before and I see how dedicated they are but the crux of it is that they love it and would also love the scholarship money. But the littles? I just don't understand it. Apparently there are something called "nautral" pageants but these are obviously not the best TV makers so they aren't featured. I mean winning and taking any money from it for a college fund sounds great but not when you spend thousands on one pageant- the dresses, the spray tanning (reason #716 why I could never win), the makeup, the flippers (dentures for you 5 year old! Sorry but I thought the point of losing your 2 front teeth was to show everyone), the glitz photos. If someone can explain this financial plan please help me because me and most of the dads they show just don't get it.

As terrifying as Toddlers & Tiaras is, there is a new show called "Dance Moms" that highlights a uber-competitive dance company where the teacher each week makes a pyramid of importance and the moms stand there horrified. This lady seriously makes me want to cry and hide in a corner and she isnt even my dance teacher. Did I miss out on entire culture in my childhood? I thought my snazzy gymnastics leotard I wore for our little performances (for our parents and unwilling brothers) were cool and felt like such a star. I also thought I wanted to be a mermaid at this point so there's that. So if you'll excuse me I'm going to go prance around in my own crown...

On Cars and Growing Up

Its time's like these that I realize that I don't quite want to be a grown up. When things in life just go horribly wrong and I long to curl up in a ball, give my Daddy the keys and pretend to be 5 again. So before I elaborate on how this is my life, here's a little background to why exatly I don't want to be a grownup.

I LOVE my car, Flounder. I seriously have no desire to replace it until absolutely necessary. Flounder and I met the fall of my senior year in high school when he became my early graduation gift. I was excited because a. It was a Jetta b. I liked the color and c. It was not the Intrepid I had been driving for the past 2 and half years that smelled like cross country funk (from my bro) and who's paint shed if you tried to wash it. I loved this car and I still do and even at 8 years old it still runs pretty well.

This is not Flounder but merely a distant cousin. I have zero photos of my car on my computer. Is that weird?

Except for last week. Then? It did not run well at all because it wasn't running. I know very little about cars. I know basics like how to check the oil, where to find my spare, how to call AAA, and when to call in a professional. So the other day when my car wouldn't start I thought it was a simple battery problem. Oh how I was wrong. So I called Triple A who came out and charged my battery. But the man (he never told me his name...) was concerned because he charged my battery really quick which apparently meant that something weird was going on. I assured him as he left that I was heading right over the car place to take it in. Which I was prepared to do had my car not died again. Frustration was mounting, the heat was stifling, and the skies were growing black. So I called a friend to jump off my car thinking surely it would be enough.

The first jump worked long enough to turn the car on then bam- nothing. The second jump (charged for the duration of Nicki Minaj's SuperBass) let me roll down the windows. I felt like crying (which I may have done over the phone to my dad because the windows were rolled down and it was going to rain gosh darn it!). I had zero clue what was going on but considering the car dealership is located over a rather large bridge, I decided that maybe risking the drive myself wasnt worth being stuck on the Cooper Rive Bridge at rush hour. So for the second time in an hour I called Triple A. That right there is a slice of humble pie. They were so concerned that the previous man who had come out called me back to make sure I was ok. Apparently calling twice in the hour isnt the norm. But I have to give it up for Triple A- they are always so nice and concerned about your safety. Although it is a little awkward to answer their service survey in front of the person working on your car. Just sayin.

Anyway, the tow finally arrived and the driver and I bonded over stupid car moments in our past as we drove little Flounder to the shop. Fun fact: I have never hit a moving object with my car. Nope, its always those dang curbs, poles, orange barrels (you see where this is going) that get me. Depth perception is not a strength. Thankfully the driver could not have been nicer and got me to the shop before they closed for the day. I simply gave them my keys and said "Please fix." and rode on home with a friend.

I always think car repairs take an incredible time so I was pretty excited when they at least called me the next morning. Seriously, I was like some desperate girl waiting by the phone for her crush to call, if that crush were to be Greg from the service department (we're on a first name basis). But that excitement when the phone rang was short lived. I ran out of class where Greg told me everything wrong with my car.

G: Well your car won't start because we need to replace the fuse panel and the alternator cable. (This is obviously paraphrased).

Me: Well I would like my car to start so I guess we should fix that. (I've never heard of either of these things so I'm just going to go with his judgement.)

G: Also, all of your brakes are metal on metal.

Me: Oh. Guess we should fix that too. (I know enough to know that those are important, seeing as like to stop the car on occassion.)

G: And m'am, just how long has your check engine light been on?

Me: Uhhhh, ummmm, a while?

G: Well.... and then he lists all the things that are causing it. Apparently Flounder's emissions are a little off or something like that. Maybe he's just cranky.

Me: Well then, I had no idea.

G: But what I'm really worried about (oh, dear) is your timing belt. (Another thing I have never heard of!) I'll paraphrase but this is apparently something important in the car that starts to stretch at 80,000 miles and should be replaced around 90,000. I'm at 97,000 which makes mechanic-types shudder a little bit.

Me: Well Greg, let me call my dad and I'll call you right back.

I go back to class, take a breather and call my dad during the next break where I relay the news. Breaks were on the plan anyway so those are go for launch but we'll just take our chances with everything else (also I was probably not the most accurate at relaying Greg's advice so I had it him right it down for me.) Guess what Santa is bringing me this year? Yep, a timing belt!

I call Greg (where I just say "Its me again!") and give him the go-ahead and he tells me the car will be ready by 4. What? 4? It takes longer for some women to get their hair done and you can make my car start and give me new breaks? Well then go ahead by all means. Long story short, I got back over there (thanks to great friends who drove me around) and gave VW a ridiculous amount of money and got Flounder safely back in my possession. I wish I had a photo of his homecoming but its sort of weird to just take a picture of your car- people look at you funny.

This is all a very roundabout way of saying that things like this make me scared to be a big kid. Cars are important to get around yet I am (mostly) clueless about apparently vital car organs. My dad did try to teach me some basics when I started learning to drive but they always ended up with me crying. Don't worry it was all me. I also cried the first time I drove and the first time I drove with my mom and almost ran into a ditch. Crying- its what's for dinner. So even though I can be adult about many other things in my life- you know going to get a flu shot, buying books, documenting my belongings when we think there's going to be a hurricane but there really isnt (Irene!), I doubt I will ever be fully independent in managing my car. Good thing I have a dad and brother who get this kinda stuff. Some of us are just are meant to understand it all (gosh I really hope Flounder doesn't take this the wrong way... oh wait its a car and can't read).

So until next time (which will be soon since I have tests coming up) I'm off to go find more Harry Potter humor blogs (yeah not helping with the whole adult thing am I)....

Invasion of the Chalk People

Friends, there is epidemic sweeping the nation and it must be addressed. You know what I’m referring to- chalk people. I have a certain distain for the chalk people decals frequenting car and minivan windows alike. You can’t drive a mile on the interstate without being taunted by the evil chalk people. I just don’t get it. If you have 2 kids, a dog and a cat that’s wonderful- I just don’t need to know that via you windshield.

I mean what happens when the baby on your window becomes a toddler? Do you just scratch him off and replace him? What about the five cats beside your family- do you add little halos over them when they die? And what if they have kittens? That can easily take up the entire back window. As a single woman, am I obligated to put a singular chalk person on my window with a question mark beside it? Should my parents put my brother and I on their car with graduation caps on us indicating that we’re no longer kids but still part of the family? The possibilities are endless.

And the chalk people invasion doesn’t stop there. Oh no. They have now grown to include your family’s interests. Like a college team? Put that on your chalk people’s shirts. Like Star Wars? Add in light sabers. Do you enjoy the occasional game of golf? Add it on the chalk! Perhaps you enjoy venturing to Disney World? Well put some mouse ears on it and call it a day. You know these things must be evil if I don’t like something associated with Disney. Gone are the days of declaring your alma matter or “I love my dog” with a simple bumper sticker. Oh no, this does not nearly emphasize the point enough. You obviously don’t love your dog if he is not part of your chalk family and your devotion to your team doesn’t mean anything unless your chalk kids have it on their shirts.

I’ve decided that the chalk people invasion has simply gone too far. How to remedy it? People will now be required to portray their (chalk) personas accurately.

Allison’s Chalk People Rules:

1. - Your current size and shape will be accurately portrayed, regardless of how you feel about it.
2. - Children will hold report cards that show accurate grades or “My child is just getting by at Such and Such Middle!”
3. - Moms will display an accurate use of their time- cooking, shoe shopping, PTA-climbing, and wine.
4. - Dads will be required to show their actual hobbies including attending Star Trek conventions and burning dinner.
5. - Your family’s true hobbies will be shown. No one really believes that all you do is go hiking together. Let’s be realistic- just put the TV on there.
6. - Pets will be shown doing what they do most of the day- sleeping, eating or pooping.

I hope we can all agree on these rules. I think they will lead to chalk-less society and will at least give the people working in a foreign country making these things a break from asking if the Americans have lost their damn minds.