Love Lotion #9

I have the mother of all papers due on Friday.

As I sit here, pouring over New York Times articles and deciphering my own notes from interviews, I realize that I have been neglecting the most important journalistic endeavor of all time.

Duffluff.

Last year around this time I wrote about a great quote from a great woman.

"Being in love is being late to work."

Said by my much loved, three time religion/women studies professor, mentor, and grad school recommender, Wanda Wilcox.

This follow up post will be two fold.

One: a story about this wonderful professor.

It is my last semester in college and quite naturally my advisor misadvised me, so that while I thought I was done with all religion classes last May, I actually have to take three this semester to fulfill the major.

It is rare in this major that the majority of a class is the seminary-bound, Christian type. May seem contradictory, but it's just not how religion majors are.

The typical religion major can be found with unwashed, longer hair, worn jeans with one leg rolled up (cause he rode his bike to class...obvi), thick rimmed glasses, and a cigarette outside of Peabody Hall. Most likely chatting up and challenging one of his professors, who is also indulging in a cigarette.

I, on the other hand, wear sorority t-shirts, a long pony tail, and the Nike shorts that solidify my position as a white girl from Alpharetta. This is neither here nor there.

Point of that was- I'm in TWO classes this semester that are majority Christians. This is rare, people. Very rare. The classes happened to be titled "Gospel of John" and "Modern Christian Theology." Interesting that they wouldn't want to learn about other religions to expand their knowledge and open their minds, but I digress.

My other class, with my favorite teacher? "Feminist Spirituality."

Can you guess what people are like in that class?

Anyway, we didn't have class last week because Wilcox was sick. Yesterday in class, there was an accident.

As Wilcox taught, she took a step towards her podium. Picture a "where I place my music while I attempt to play notes on my trumpet in 4th grade" podium, not a sturdy podium, made of wood or any other reliable substance.

In a moment of expression, Wilcox went to lean her elbows on the podium, sending the thing crashing to the ground, scattering books, binders, and pride. It remained on the ground, in two pieces, for a moment until Wilcox sighed and said, "Y'all are gonna have to excuse me, I'm high on cough syrup today. It said no heavy machinery but I guess they should have included podiums."

Thus solidifying her as STILL my favorite.


Two: rewriting the Wilcox quote.

My wonderful, beautiful, successful sisters traveled down from North Carolina this past weekend to visit with me and see where I've been living for four years.





Ashley is highly allergic to poison ivy. She is the girl who somehow got it in her eye in the 5th grade and came down the stairs the next morning with her eyes swollen shut.

Well, wouldn't you know it, she got it again. As smart as that woman is, she isn't always the quickest learner. A week after the actual contact with the ivy, Ashley rolled into Athens with arms and legs covered in welts and calamine lotion.

Luckily the lotion was clear, so it didn't look like dried Pepto Bismol, but when it dried it did look like her skin was flaking off. Unfortunately, her sisters aren't the most compassionate or medically inclined people ever, so she did all the rubbing and such while we gave disapproving looks and told her it smelled.

During the week prior that she was home, however, her husband helped. While my sister was in pain, itching and squirming, darling Hunter took care of her. Now normal "taking care" coming from me would include a pat on the back and an offer to go get ice cream together.

Hunter went above and beyond.

Truly encompassing "in sickness and in health," Hunter not only lotioned and then hairdryer-ed Ashley, he also gave her an oatmeal bath to soothe her.

And so, in honor of my favorite brother-in-law on this Valentine's Day, I am rewriting Wanda Wilcox's quote.

"Being in love is giving them an oatmeal bath."

You can call me Tyra

My dear friend Elizabeth (my traveling partner through Morocco, France, Cambodia, Malaysia and Thailand) has a blog. It's a photo-a-day blog to help her practice her photography. Yesterday I was recruited to be the subject of a photo shoot and consequently, I have finally made it in the photo of the day.

Check out her blog, she keeps getting better and better!

Buds at the Beach

After a week of snow and practically no school, some friends of mine and I decided to go to Destin to meet up with the much loved and missed Ann-Katherine at her remarkable beach house. Her and her boyfriend both invited people down and there ended up being over 20 people there for the weekend.

The weekend was filled with frisbee, volleyball, board games, cooking, bocce ball, and watching basketball. The weather was perfect and everyone had a great time.

As much fun as meeting new people is, I was most excited to spend time with three of the best friends a girl could ask for. One guy had a great camera so we recruited him for a photo shoot. Here are some gems that attempt to materialize our friendship.








Mad props and thanks to Ian Prester.

Loving life with these regrets

Over the break I introduced my parents to some wonderful websites. Bored? Enjoy these little gems:

People of Walmart - America's finest
When Parents Text - when old people get ahold of technology
Lamebook - making fun of Facebook even more than I do
You Drive What? - for mobile "art"
White Trash Repairs - because the Foxworthys get creative

My newest favorite, however. Is called Regretsy.

Now Etsy is a website where people can sell handmade items. Art, mostly, but anything really. Handmade clothes, toys, bags, etc.

Regretsy makes fun of some of the ridiculous/hilarious/disturbing things people try to sell. You absolutely must check it out.

My personal favorite categories are "Annoying Descriptions", "Not Remotely Handmade" and "Dead Things."

Here is a gem that is sold under "Dead Things."



Now unfortunately, my birthday just passed. But I'm sure you can buy this for any friend or family member and they will be delighted. Great for Valentine's Day, PETA members, and nurseries.

Talented and Gifted

I've never been spectacular at anything.

I always got good grades, but never first in the class. I was decent at soccer but never the best. Same at tennis and volleyball. I go to a good school, but not Ivy League. Same thing again with my grades.

Point being, I recognize the phrase, "Jack of all trades, master of none."

About 14 months ago, boyfriend took me skeet shooting. We only shot one round, I had no idea what I was doing, but I beat him. I didn't think much about it, but I really enjoyed it.

So for my birthday this year, I asked to go back.

Me, homeboy, and two of our other guy friends went and shot three rounds. And I beat them all. And two other men who shot with us.


Not only that, but before we ever shot skeet, I could hit 10 out of 10 with a pistol at a golf-ball sized target from about 10 yards.

This all goes back to when I shot my first gun, a BB gun, in my Pop-pop's back yard when I was eight. I made every shot that day.

The point is, that in all the talents that people have, all the gifts that I could have been blessed with... I'm a good shot.

When on earth am I going to use that, except to embarrass my guy friends?

Can I cook? No. Can I sing? No. Can I dance? HAAAIILLLLL no.

Do I have a knack for accounting or business or medicine? No, no I don't.



My talent is useless. It will make me no money and I can't perform it on stage at all those pageants I do. But hey, can't complain that I have one. Hopefully there's another, more useful talent just waiting to burst out of the woodwork.

A Christmas Eve Story

Christmas morning used to be my favorite. Everything leading up to it was training for the big day. I could barely fall asleep at night due to the reindeer hooves on the roof (Bob feet in the attic) and I would wake up my sisters as early as I was allowed in the morning. We would wait upstairs or on the stairs while Mom and Bob made coffee. When we got the word, we would scramble down the stairs and one of us would play "elf" by passing out rounds of presents, one per person per round. Presents are always opened youngest to oldest.

Well as it appears, I'm getting older. In the past seven or eight years things have changed and today I made the final decision that Christmas Eve has now surpassed Christmas morning.

In general, we have the same routine.

The night of the 23rd we roll the dough for sticky buns. At about 9 am we start delivering the wonderful breakfast platters to about 10 to 12 close family friends. Some people have been getting them since we moved to Alpharetta in 1995, but my family has been doing this for years before that.

In the afternoon we go to church. We sing the same songs, listen to the same soloist, and delight in the same candlelight singing of Silent Night.

After church we head to the Carters, possibly our closest family friends, house. There between four and eight families meet every year to catch up and enjoy each others company. Bunny Boy (A Christmas Story) is always running it's 24 hour marathon which is required to be on in the background.

It's not so much what has changed in the past few years, it's how I look at things.

First and foremost, I like my sleep. So waking up in the wee hours of the morning is no longer an option. I also know what most of my gifts are, and while that means they're things I really want/need, the element of surprise is...not so much.

This morning, while delivering sticky buns, I got to talk to some great people. The Lochers, whom I don't see very often, got to meet Grady and we visited for a long time. I also went to drop some off at Haley Nelson's house, which somehow I didn't leave for over an hour and a half. This morning's fellowship was the first thing that reminded me how much I love Christmas Eve.

Tonight at the Carters was happy hour. We went our separate ways for dinner but happy hour was together.

And it's safe to say it was a success.

It was hard to determine what was my favorite part but I've mapped out some of the best:

- Bob brought a mini keg.

- Miss James (Grandma) was drinking wine, much to the dismay of her daughter. And girlfrand DRANK that wine.

- The two 20-year-olds drank beer in front of their parents- Kevin to looks of apathy from the parents, Ben nervously darting his eyes towards his mother, waiting for a lecture or ID check.

- Kevin taught Miss James how to "pound it," complete with explosion.

- Aunt Nancy entered the room announcing, "HO HO HO...the hoe is HERE!!!" After reintroducing herself to Kevin she realized he's the same boy she's seen for at least 10 years of Christmas Eve's and decided he'd grown up well. She then made a motion to take him into the other room with her.

I mean honestly...I can't pick just ONE favorite.

All that being said, it's wonderful that I get to spend the holidays with such wonderful people. I would take a Christmas Eve over a Christmas morning any day.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Grady's Lady

I am home. Articles turned in, scantrons filled out, done with fall semester. Done done done.

I came home yesterday to meet the male boxer my parents rescued. After seeing a picture of him I thought he was adorable and wonderful and that we'd be life long friends. I suggested that we name him Grady after the UGA journalism school. And we did.

I annoyed the heck out of my manfriend, saying at least 40 times, "I get to meet Grady soon!" I liked him already.

So you can imagine my excitement when I got home yesterday and got to see him in person for the first time. After saying hi to him, I sat on the floor to pet our other dog, Sugar.

As I was sitting and petting, my new friend Grady decided we should take things to the next level. He promptly climbed onto my shoulders and began expressing his masculinity towards my back. In a moment of realization, I made a strange "Wahhhhhhh!??!?!" noise and crawled around until I could escape from his grasp and stand up.

I looked around, begging the invisible crowd for some pity.

Once I regained some dignity, I unloaded the car, got some water, and sat down on the couch. Grady climbed up on the couch next to me and, remembering how Bob said Grady was a lap dog, I welcomed him.

POOR DECISION, CINDY.

Once again, I fell victim to our unneutered stray. I caught on to what was happening a little quicker this time and I pushed him off the couch and scrambled away until I could stand up and look back in disbelief.

Luckily, Grady's losing his manhood tomorrow morning at nine. Hopefully we can be friends after that, but first impressions can be hard to forget.

See you later

This morning one of my best friends and my roommate of the past 2.5 years graduated and moved out. Her room is empty and white and depressing. So instead of sulking I'm going to remember the good times. And what better way to do that than to look through all my pictures and post a ton of them?

So, Ann-Katherine Hailey, here's to one trip to Memphis:




One cup and string phone:



One emotional fish funeral:



Two years of Spike for Life:




Two Daddy-Daughter days with Bob:




Two spring breaks:





Three formals:





Three dance marathons:




Four bid days:





Four falls of gamedays:






Five boxes of hair dye:



Seven birthdays:






Tons of socials:







And possibly even more date nights:








And so, in a moment of sappiness, here is my favorite friendship quote ever, courtesy of Winnie the Pooh:

"If ever there is a tomorrow when we're not together, there is something you must always remember: you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart... I'll always be with you.”

Hopefully the end of college won't be the end of our wonderful times together. Miss you already.

Published again!

Woohoo!

My big final article from my internship in internal communications at Emory Healthcare has finally gone up on the website! I wrote a number of articles during my internship (summer 09) but this was an article where I wrote, interviewed and photographed the story.

Check it out here!