Sober and Orderly

I've thought about writing this post for a long time and now's the time. Because people love to ask why I don't drink. And there should be a URL that I can just point them to when this question arises.

This is an incessantly recurring situation in my life:
New friend/classmate/stranger/etc: "Want a drink?"
Me: "No thanks, I'm good."
NF/C/S/E: "Are you sure? We have beer, wine, margaritas..."
Me: "Oh, no thanks. I appreciate it but I'm fine." OR "Can I grab some water?"
NF/C/S/E: "Do you not drink?"
Me: "Not usually."
NF/C/S/E: "Really? Why?"
Me: "Just not really my jam."

Cause after 8 or so years of turning down drinks, that's the best one-sentence answer I've come up with that doesn't make the other person feel uncomfortable. Because, honestly, I don't give a rat's noogie if anyone else drinks themselves silly. As long as they don't bother me.

First off, I don't NOT drink. It's just very rare. For example, my drinking of 2012 consisted of bachelorette parties for my dear friends AK and Mallory. But I don't have some huge moral issue with drinking.

Let's look at some facts:

1. Alcohol is disgusting. It tastes horrible. All of it - liquor, wine, beer, etc. It's nasty. And to people who say it's an acquired taste, why would I want to acquire a taste for something that doesn't do a whole lot of good in the first place?

2. It costs money and calories to drink. I sometimes wonder how much money I didn't spend in college. Cause I can count the number of times I bought alcohol at a bar in college on one hand. And most of those times were due to happy hour $1 wells or $2 pitchers (shout out to Athens bar prices). Plus, I've never had a beer gut. Now, I've had a fat gut. But never a beer gut.

3. 'Snot good for you. At least getting drunk. You're literally poisoning your body to the point that it doesn't function correctly. That kinda weirds me out.

Now, while those things are fact, there are some other things around drinking that I just don't feel like dealing with. Like not being able to drive. While I'm not a huge fan of playing DD (I've put in my time and a half), I can always drive myself and I don't have to rely on anyone else. It's great. Also, if something happened and someone had to go to the hospital - I can drive! Plus, no money spent on cabs.

Alcohol and carbonated beverages are on my "do not consume list" for acid reflux, thanks to it's ability to make my stomach do Gabby Douglas-caliber routines.

And, bonus for not drinking, no hangovers! I wake up feeling fine in the morning. Annnnd...I remember my life! Never blacking out helps with not doing anything horribly stupid. I don't lose stuff, hook up with ugly men, get in fisticuffs, cry in public or show my lady goods to the public. I embarrass myself enough sober.

I write this now because if my thesis semester keeps going the way it has been, I will be driven to drink, and this will no longer be valid. So here's the story now, ask me again in 4 months.

The best kind of magic

The holidays are over and I'm back at school. Apparently, I define "holidays" as December through my birthday, and the subsequent two weeks.

I'm posted up in my apartment editing my thesis proposal over and over, already dreading PATH exams that will take place in exactly sixteen days. If I were Catholic, I'd be doing the sign of the cross a lot these days.

Needless to say, my brain is in academic mode. Especially since it can no longer be in holiday mode. Which is what we're really here to talk about anyway.

The holidays.

Early in December I saw an episode of Parenthood where the mother is trying to keep her kid from finding out Santa isn't real. She said she doesn't want to tell the kid so that the kid can have a few more years of "Christmas magic."

So I got offended.

Here is what I remember about uncovering Santa's dirty little secret: One day I asked my best friend how Santa gets to all the houses in one night and she responded, "Timezones." Instead of saying that Santa still couldn't get to every kids house, even with a handicap, I just shrugged it off. And that's when I kinda figured it was just something your parents tell you for fun.

Kinda like "Never eat anything blue" (um...M&Ms? Hullo?) or "The neighbors don't want to see your [super chic] Dalmatian underwear."

I would hardly say the magic of Christmas was swiped from my fat little fists over a timezone debate.

And, as a matter of fact, the magic of Christmas just amplifies every year.

Let's be honest, I wrote a whole blog about why Jesus doesn't matter, so I don't exactly correlate him with Christmas. Plus, there's biblical evidence he was born in pretty much any season but winter, so the whole "reason for the season" thing is a bit off. (Side note: isn't being born pretty petty compared to, oh, I don't know, raising from the dead? Christians should be focusing way more on Easter than Christmas anyway, am I right? They could have at least picked something more logical to represent it than a bunny that delivers eggs filled with candy. Talk about identity crisis. No wonder kids figure these things out.)

But I digress.

Point being, the Christmas season, and consequentially Christmas magic, has little to do with my idea of Christmas. It's about giving - I get more and more excited to give my sisters gifts as I grow up. It's about time together, laughing like we're kids instead of adult professionals, and pretending we can do advanced yoga moves and then proving it in front of the TV while mom yells "You're gonna hurt yourself!" It's about recharging from the energy you only have when you're together, and celebrating each other's triumphs and opportunities (a new puppy! a job search!). And it's about knowing the people around you are there during all the times. Whatever adjective used for those times, the people that create that Christmas magic are there for them.

This Christmas was unusual for our family. We had to memorialize the passing of one of our own just days before the holiday. But shortly after, my mom told me that when she stood up to give the eulogy, she stood up with the power of eight behind her. She was not alone.

And that, my friends, is Christmas magic.

Dears and Deers

On this merry birthday eve, my doting boyfriend dragged me to Bass Pro Shop to buy a goose call. Now he's always been a romantic, but today he outdid himself.

We started dating in 2008, and for our first Valentine's Day he bought me a hard drive. Yup, nothing says "I love you" like computer storage.

Needless to say, that's when we had our first "needs vs. wants" conversation pertaining to gift giving. I explained that gifts for holidays should be something fun or romantic, that the person wouldn't usually buy for themselves. He's had trouble grasping the concept since.

So on our way home from Bass Pro, Jason says that he wants my input on my birthday gift because he was having a hard time deciding. Last night he brought home a six-pack of different kinds of root beer for me to try. Jason said that was the romantic part of my gift.

I knew this was gonna be good, so I started taking notes.

First up - The Magic Bullet. This summer I used his a lot to make smoothies before work, so he thought I might want my own. But when we live together again in a few months we can share again. Such a conundrum. So no Magic Bullet for me.

Second - a shotgun. Now I like to shoot for sport, but Jason has a 700 lb. gun case full of whatever I could ever need. No need for me to have my own, so no gun.

Third - a mountain bike. Now this one had a bit of thought. We like to do things outdoors so his idea was that we could ride bikes together. There's a glimmer of romance, but then he drops the kicker on me.

The kicker - warm camo. As in, the beginning of my warm camouflage collection for hunting. And I quote: "The good thing is that camo goes with everything. We could get you waders but that's pretty duck hunting-specific. The romance isn't so much the camo but the hunting together that it implies."

Does hunting imply romance? Would I get confused and think the romantic part was the camo?

No clue. No. Dang. Clue.

Married Mallory

One of my very best friends over the last 15 years or so, Mallory, got married a week ago today. Here are some pictures of mostly the bride at their winter wedding!

From one place to another

Death is one of two things...

Either it is annihilation, 

and the dead have no consciousness of anything;

or, as we are told, it is really a change:

a migration of the soul from one place to another.

- Socrates

I have too much experience with the annihilation kind of death for only being 23 years old. When a conversation turns to people dying, I can hold my end of the discussion all too well.

When I was 12, I watched an 18-year-old guy fall nine floors off the balcony of the building my family was staying. He fell from room 906 and I was on the balcony of room 406. He swooshed past me and landed with a thud in the sand below, motionless. I watched without flinching as the police were called, the tarp covered him, and the medics pronounced him dead. 

Three months later, I was at a car show with my dad when a driver lost control of the jet engine car he was driving and it crashed into the side of the track, bursting into flames. The fire department took 30 minutes to respond so we all stood in the stands, watching the flames, knowing there was a man burning to death.

Throughout high school I had several friends, acquaintances and classmates die from car crashes, brain tumors, suicide and freak accidents. Even more passed away from drug overdoses after graduation. I remember that the number of deaths around me was past 20 when I turned 20. It's morbid that I even thought to count. 

Maybe it was the rapid-fire series of deaths in my life, or maybe I was too young to see it, but I found no hope or rest in any of these deaths. Only abruptness, emptiness, questions of why or how.

Even watching my grandmother's and mother's best friend's battles with cancer seemed like annihilation when they eventually passed away. At least to me, it was too soon.

My grandfather passed away Monday morning.

He had suffered with Alzheimer's for about four years, had a stroke the weekend after Thanksgiving, and eventually stopped eating until his body shut down.

My mom and sister were with him. And for the first time, I find nothing but peace in his passing. He was ready to go, and by the time he left he was only a shadow of his former self. He had made his wishes surrounding life support very clear, and hearing Monday morning that he was gone was only something to rejoice. If nothing else, he now joins my grandmother and uncle wherever we go next. What sweet reunions those must be. 

To be mad or upset about his passing would be selfish. I'm only sad that my mom lost her dad. I now understand the cliche sayings of "He's in a better place now" or "He's at peace." Because, for once, I really believe them. He lived a good life, and it's encouraging to see that living well leads to dying a happy death. It's inspiring, really - to make sure I'm living well, too. 

This weekend we'll celebrate his life. A life full of love and joy, and the occasional obscenity yelled at an Ohio State football game on TV. 

Mirror, mirror on all the walls...

Zumba is all the rage these days. It's a mix of aerobics, hip-hop and Latin dance. I saw that the UNC rec center offers a class on Tuesday and Thursday nights so I decided to check it out.

It has since come to my attention that I am white.

Much whiter than I thought I was.

While we were doing Aladdin moves, shuffling right and then back left - everyone looked like Jai Ho goddesses and I looked like a nervous crab scurrying back and forth. And when the instructor told us to put our hands on our knees and drop it low, everyone else looking like music video divas, I looked like the Hunchback of Notre Dame trying to pass a hairball.

The problem, however, can't possibly be my dancing ability. As we all remember (or should), I stood out at my senior year hip-hop recital. Mostly because I stood a foot taller than everyone else in my middle school-dominated class. But also because of my Shakira-like skills. When I go to weddings, bars, my kitchen, wherever - I love to bust a move. And I do it with confidence.

Maybe I should rethink that.

Or maybe, since my dancing ability is infallible, I only look like I can't dance because there are mirrors on the walls. This must be it.

These mirrors make it seem that when we squat and get low, I am the least low in the room. Could it be that my quads aren't as strong as everyone else's? Or is it the mirrors? I do believe it's the latter.

And when we try a new sequence of turns and taps, it appears that I am off-rhythm and borderline drunk. Is it because I am more "Pumba" than "zumba?" Or is it just that the mirrors make it look that way? Again, it must be the mirrors.

Luckily, when I'm out in public I am never in a room lined with mirrors. Which gives me permission to drop it like it's hot and two-step with the confidence I had prior to tonight.

World...you are welcome.

Thanksgiving Thanks

It's almost Thanksgiving. My sisters and brothers-in-law are coming in town and the '57 Chevy is already filled up with Tupperwares of various cookies.

One of the things I'm most thankful for this year is the example of marriage set by my parents.

In fact, parents, grandparents, aunts/uncles, cousins, and even sisters. Call it luck, hard work or stubborn commitment, but no one in my family has divorced. But it isn't just about divorce.

Earlier this semester, I took a Myers-Briggs test for class and got the results back, ironically, the day after I wrote the Ways to Pin for Your Husband blog. Turns out I'm an INTJ, meaning I'm independent, question everything and believe everything can be improved. We were given packets of information about our personality types and, to me, it was scarily on point.

Less than 2% of women are INTJs, and a big part of the personality type is a distaste for tradition. Here's an excerpt from my profile packet:

"Many of the traits described above - independence, objectivity, and control - fly in the face of traditional feminine models. Moreover, the INTJ's need to challenge tradition and improve everything can cause friction in the male-dominated workplace. This conflict can lead to rejection by both genders: Males simply don't understand or know how to cope with the female INTJ's independence; other women see the INTJ female as arrogant, caring for no one but herself. Indeed, INTJ women often have little patience for women who display traditional feminine characteristics."

I tried to look past how it says people think I'm arrogant and that I'll never fit in at work. Instead, things I've felt/thought for a long time about tradition suddenly felt justified. I've never wanted to do/say/believe things just cause someone says I should. And all this translates to relationships for me.

I've said it before - I see marriage as a partnership. I see no reason that a man should be the authority solely because he's got man parts. I'd rather not have an "authority" in my marriage. Each person has different strengths and a marriage should be finding the right combination of those to make a life together work. It disappoints me and the Feminist Movement when ambitious, intelligent women get married and take the back seat in life the second they say "I do."

This has nothing to do with being a stay-at-home-mom. My mom stayed home with us for about 16 years and it wasn't a secret that she was the head of the household. This has to do with the passivity that comes along with the belief that a woman needs a man to lead her through life. Cause there's just no way she'd be able to find her way on her own.

But the examples of successful relationships around me show that vows come true - there will be thick and thin, sickness and health, rich and poor, good times and bad - and the best way to face that is with a partner. Not a boss. To not give up on the partnership, to work on always maintaining the partnership, and to believe in the partnership.

This is a lot of talk from someone who's never been married. But on this Thanksgiving, I'm thankful that when the time is right, I'll have several positive examples to turn to, and that up until this point I've been surrounded by great examples of strong women, give-and-take relationships, and sustainable marriages.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!

Nov. 6 Can't Come Soon Enough

Happy fall, everyone! And not-so-happy voting season!

As much as I hate talking about politics, I am going to take this time to do so because - let's be honest - this is the only medium where I won't be berated for even mentioning a candidate's name.

I don't like politics. Particularly politicians. But I don't quite think it's justified for me to complain about it all because I'm not going to run for any office, so the politicians we have are just going to have to be good enough.

Each Wednesday I sit through a three-hour class that is supposed to be about public relations, but quickly turns into the Democratic National Convention where everyone hops on the Obama train and rides it in circles chuckling to themselves.

This is an exact quote from class last week: "It seems like everyone is starting to lie nowadays. I mean, Obama even lied in the last debate."

Before I could stop myself, I made an exaggerated gasp, looked the girl straight in the eye and said "Nooooooo!"

Now I'm not a huge fan of either presidential candidate, and I like to look at issues individually instead of through a party lens, but if you honestly think that your candidate doesn't lie... you need to have an honest conversation with a psychiatrist.

It seems that around family and Georgia friends, I'm the crazy liberal who believes gays are human and that the government shouldn't be able to stick things in my uterus. Coming to UNC, I quickly became the conservative who considers the national debt an issue and sees that tightening gun control laws would only affect people interested in following laws in the first place.

Honestly, I get what Obama was trying to say with the whole "you didn't build that" comment. I also get where Romney was going with the 47 percent comment. Neither of them chose the right words, and the opposite party took quick advantage of that.

The point is, this election is off the charts in terms of slinging hatred. I understand that people feel strongly that their candidate is better than the other. But I've heard it spun in both directions that "if [Candidate] wins the election, America will instantly be drawn up in flames spit by the devil himself." As far as I can tell, there are actually decent people on either side of the election, and however wrong you feel they are - they do believe that what they're doing is best for America. Or at least I'd hope so.

So if you want to vote - do so in the manner of your choosing. However, excessive Facebook posts and outraged rants are only going to lose you respect - even from people that may agree with you. Let's try and focus on why "our" party is best for America, and less on why "their" party is bad. You might keep some friends that way.

I, on the other hand, will continue to remain silent during all the rants. Even if it means sore eyeballs from all the rolling they do.

A wedding celebration

This weekend I got to watch my beautiful friend Ann-Katherine get married! This year alone I get to be a part of my high school best friend, college best friend and since-fifth-grade best friend's weddings. That's pretty neat.

I blogged about when AK graduated a semester early and moved out of our house in Athens a few years ago. Luckily, I got to live with her for 2.5 years and the majority of my college memories involve her.

So in honor of my wonderful roommate getting married to one hell of a guy, here is a run down of this weekend in pictures:

Reunited with my four best mates on Thursday!

Bridal luncheon cupcakes

My Child and Family Development major friends found a baby

My beautiful friend Mollie

Bride on rehearsal day

At the hotel before the rehearsal dinner - Memphis Bridge in the background

Memphis Bridge

Bride with downtown Memphis in the background

Rehearsal Dinner

More rehearsal dinner - in our UGA colors

Wedding morning cheers!

Almost ready

BRIDE!

So so beautiful - reading her letter from John

Cathedral length veil looked so awesome walking down the aisle

With the matron of honor

All five

The cake

The reception venue - Teton Trek at the Memphis Zoo

Getting down with grandma

My parents came too!

I do realize there are no pictures of John in here, but I was with AK the whole time so I didn't really see him much except at the actual ceremony and I don't think they're fond of iPhone pictures in the cathedral. Anyways, congrats AK and John! 

Grandpa Turns 90

This weekend was my grandfather's 90th birthday party in Delaware. And, as expected with the Austin/Athow family, there was plenty of blog material.

I made it halfway up the driveway upon my arrival before my grandpa said it sure would be nice to see all of his grandchildren get married. This is the same grandpa I referenced in my blog about how I'm not getting married anytime soon. Apparently the hint was not received.

The weekend was filled with grandchildren passing around great grandchildren, dogs trying to knock down grandparents, and the occasional excessively-loud phrase yelled by an aunt. When the dogs barked the babies cried and when the babies cried the dogs would bark. My family is not exactly soft-spoken, so the babies and dogs being on board is really just a sign of Austin family unity.

I caught some flak for calling my dad's first cousin a "distant cousin" in my post about the family beach trip. My thought is that if I've never heard of her in the past 23 years, she isn't exactly "near" now, is she? I also had people tell me they've been reading my blog. Which would have been flattering if it wasn't said in a warning tone like I peed on the carpet.

My grandpa also has new reading glasses. And I'm assuming he wasn't wearing any glasses when he picked out the new ones because they are leopard print. So when my grandpa asked my dad to hand him his reading glasses, my dad hung his head in resignation that his father had resorted to jungle cat eyewear.

Jason and Hunter were recruited to the grandparents' basement to see the wall of genealogy books my grandpa has kept for years. Which is kind of like diving into a black hole. I have three 3-inch binders solely about me if that gives you an idea of the amount of material that has collected on this wall. Everyone's books start with a fact sheet about birthplace and parent information. Grandpa handed Jason one of the sheets and told him to fill it out "if he was serious." Austins are not known for subtlety. At first we thought that Hunter would need to be saved after a few minutes, but once he caught sight of Ashley's book he was happy to browse. He flipped through photos of her awkward years (4-17) with glee, taking pictures of every page because each one was better than the last.

The whole weekend was full of shaking my head at the chaos and sharing looks of "oh boy" with my cousins. Luckily my family members are all great sports and great people, and it actually is very cool to think of all the things my grandfather has seen and experienced in his 90 years. So Sunday morning we shared hugs and said goodbyes, and - in true grandpa fashion - as Jason was saying goodbye, my grandpa pulled him close and whispered in his ear, "I'm waiting."

Birthday surprises

About two weeks ago, Jason's parents called me and asked if I'd like to be flown out to surprise him at his uncle's house in Reno, NV. He's on a 6-8 week roadtrip around the country and has been out west for three weeks working on his uncle's seed farm. I, of course, completely agreed and thus flew out last Friday for a weekend full of camping, hiking, lake-going and general all-round fun.

And here go the pictures.

The view from their house

We stopped on the drive to our campsite thinking this would be the best view we'd get

And then we decided to hike to the top of a mountain (9,700 ft high). Beware of the large amount of mountain top pictures to follow.

And the view from the bottom of the mountain.

And then we went to Lake Tahoe Sunday afternoon to try and comprehend how a beach, lake and mountains can all be in one place at once.

Braving the freezing water