Weekend of Firsts

A weekend of firsts it was.  The first weekend of: football season, Grove season, temperatures less than 100, school readings exceeding 150 pages (that I've skimmed at best...then again, maybe I haven't), blistered feet from closed toe shoes, and a third cousin's visit in the Grove.

This was also the first weekend I've seen Swamp since she took over Houston.  She might tell you "Texas is bigger than me"...but I'm not believing it...she'll be "the Rodeo Queen" by the end of the year.  I just know it.

This weekend marks my first Ole Miss football game with Tuck.  What a wonderful and strange experience all at the same time.  Just knowing we had so many similar traditions and celebrated in the same places for the past six years was pretty bizarre.  Saturday was the perfect day...aside from our three hour separation during the middle of the day (due in large part to AT&T being the best cellular provider on the planet).  Being in the Grove, meeting even more of his friends, sharing a Hotty Toddy (or two), and watching the game together was one of the most special moments we've had.  Saturday was like a looking glass into the years to come.  I just still can't get over the fact that we never knew each other while we were in school...we laughed all weekend about how we probably passed each other in the bar or stood in line by each other in the student section and never even knew it.

Sunday we took it easy.  Napped, watched movies, and looked at trucks.  Tuck also requested photo evidence of my "awkward years".  He specifically requested years from sixth-eighth grade...so that's what he got.  While I did have braces and never straightened my hair...little does he know my most awkward years were third-fifth grade.  He had a great time digging through my treasure trove of memories...AKA an empty dresser drawer full of every picture, drawing, writing assignment, letter any person has ever written me, and other c-r-a-p I've deemed worthy of treasuring for a lifetime from middle school up til now.  I haven't laughed that hard in a long time.

This weekend intensified my urge to be in two places at once.  I love the Big City and the people in it.  I love that I'm getting a world class education...one that I know I wouldn't receive anywhere else. At the same time, the biggest part of my heart is in the South.  With Tuck, my family, and friends there...it is always hard to say goodbye.  Today as I was leaving town, Tuck was behind me.  We got to the fork where he goes right to head south and I go straight on the roads heading north.  Per-usual, I lost it. 

I was kind of zoned out and crying when this song came on.  Pretty cheesy, I know.  Typically, I don't channel country lyrics into my "great life lessons" portion of my life...but maybe just this once I will.  I'm sure I will miss these times...and I know this season will be over faster than I can blink.  Needless to say, the heaving sobs started as I let the lyrics sink in.

Such a perfect weekend.  So completely blessed.  Happy beyond measure.

Peter and his Pottery

I spent the weekend in the pasture (AKA Tuck's house) and I'm still exhausted.  The women in his life spent some serious time bonding.  We went hunting.  For pottery.  A sale.  Got up at 4 AM on Saturday morning and traveled to Mound Bayou, Mississippi.  It was quite the experience.  I was there for what I called "sisterhood bonding"...I was excited about the pottery but didn't need a thing.  We arrived in the sleepy town at 6 AM.  I was instructed to jump out of the car and run to get a place in line...since no one else was around...we took our spot at the dead end of the line.  I tried to be sociable but it was EARLY.  We sat for 2 hours.  A lady came around passing out raffle tickets.  At this time my crew (a pack of women ranging from me (23) to 59) informed the lady that I traveled the furthest distance that day to be there...all the way from the Big City...not entirely true not entirely false.

Well, I won.  A vase that not even 10 minutes prior I had described...to a T...that I needed to find inside the store.  And I won it.  I should have been done.  But then, Peter...the potter...came out.  He described that you could enter the sale on the outside or the inside.  Only two ways.  The entire line...of probably more than 200 women (and four men) turned on their serious game faces.  I was too delirious.  Then, out of NO WHERE...these three ladies walked up and cut in line.  Oh no you didn't!  Well, at least that's how my Grenada ladies felt.  Two of them got straight up confrontational (hood rat) on these ladies and I about near died.  The trio would not even acknowledge our outspoken ones...but minutes before we entered they retreated to the back of the line.

Two seconds later you would have thought a gun had been shot, signaling the start to a serious race.  We were off...and by off I mean running. I had no idea what to expect but we were RUNNING through this place...ten foot long tables...everywhere...piled high with this fired mud...we were furiously grabbing pottery and hurling it into bags (some even had trashcans)...paying no attention to price.  Literally four minutes later, the pottery was cleared from the table and all the women were out on the lawn sorting and pricing what they had scavenged.

It became a barter game after that.  I'll trade you this turkey (yeah, right) for that punch bowl...this vase for those coffee mugs.  It was a game of cat and mouse.  Always watching for that prized piece...hoping that someone would give it up...and YOU would walk away as the proud owner.

I checked out quickly...after I scrutinized over the perfect coffee mugs.  I did good and will one day update with pictures.  I discovered that elephants, turkeys, and punch bowls are the most PRIZED pieces.  That Peter makes WAY too many egg platters...that or no one needs one...probably the latter.  Who makes deviled eggs that often?  I learned that I might have been dead tired but my adrenaline picked up very quickly and I LOVED the rush I got searching for my perfect pieces.

I'll be back.  And next time...watch out.  I'll be ruthless.

An image of my sweet little prize

So Peter, you done good. 

Change

With every new year of school I've had that "nervous excitement/jittery anticipation/slow down I'm not ready for this next move" kind of feeling.

In elementary school it meant less play time after school.  Less outside time.  More spelling word practice.  More times table drilling.  More learning states and capitols.  Just plain ol' school.  I had no idea that will each passing year there would be a little more responsibility.  A little more change.

I will openly admit the night before 6th grade and the night before 9th grade I cried like a baby.  I can still remember it.  I obviously put myself to bed but after some hysterical sobbing my parents came in.  Assured me that I would make it.  I'm sure 6th grade was actually terrible...because let's be honest, middle school is horrible in general.  Yeah, pretty much everything about it.  I know I enjoyed 9th grade.  It was HIGH SCHOOL.  Besides waking up the first morning...with the power out...having to go with WET HAIR and braces...otherwise, I'm sure it was a great day.  In both cases, the classes were harder, the people were different, and hair weave was ALWAYS in the hallway after lunch...I made it.  Even with a little more change.

College rolls around.  I CRIED when I found out I would be taking like 15 hours the first semester.  I had no idea what "3 hours" entailed...but just KNEW I couldn't do it.  Lord knows I would do anything to go back to 15 hours with no clinic...make that 18 hours...I'd do it.  I was so nervous about moving to Oxford.  I silently sobbed in my bed the night before class started...it felt so much like summer camp but I knew I wasn't going home.  I knew my roommate and that was pretty much it.  We had scrutinized over the room for months...we just knew it was perfect...we got there (and much to my dismay) a malaria net factory/fake flower haven blew up in my room.  I just KNEW I would come home one night after the bar and have a seizure with all the different patterns we packed in there/die from suffocation following my "canopy" falling from the sky (ceiling).  I didn't.  I pledged a sorority that year...I was petrified about rush...because I just knew I wouldn't fit in.  I made some amazing friends.  At the end of that year, I cried leaving Martin.  Knowing we would all still be friends but we would probably be better friends with people we were still getting to know.  Things changed but I made it...and I loved it.

Every year I was in school I so anticipated getting to go back.  I LOVED my summers at home.  Getting to be with my family was always what I needed.  I always left with a sort of pang in my heart.  Getting to go back to the place I loved...with the people I loved...but it meant I had to leave my family.  Every year was amazing.  But each year brought about some change.  I was eager to move in to the house, thrilled to be with my 3 roomies, sad when we "broke up", so happy to come back to the house, sad realizing I would never sleep there again, thrilled to move into the GO, happy knowing I would be the last lady to live with Edotlouise...before she permanently lived with a MAN, SAD SAD SAD when we graduated...because it meant I was leaving my friends, Oxford, and I would be MOVING NORTH.

Last summer I kind of dragged my feet for a while.  I was ready for the adventure but I was nervous.  I knew only the Roomie...via phone calls and facebook stalking.  I knew my schooling would be atrocious.  It was and it wasn't.  I realized I would never really "live" at "home" ever again.  I was big and it scared me.  The whole way there...the whole time we unpacked...I had a frog in my throat.  As my parents said goodbye I LOST it.  In my living room.  I had a complete meltdown.  Just like times before...I did fine.  I had fun.  Met great people.  Enjoyed school....you've seen it...I've lived in the Big City...I've lived to blog about it.

So now this summer.  I've had the best time.  No class...for the most part.  Got to feel what a "real" job is like.  Got to see Tuck every other weekend...that's never happened thus far.  I've been "home" for about a month.  I've soaked it up.  But I'm sad now.  I am SO READY to see my Big City friends.  I am nervous about this upcoming semester...note to self: don't listen to the older people...just figure it out on your own.  Sad I won't see Tuck every other weekend anymore.  Sad to have to cook again :).  I know I'll be missing my Mama. 

I know, I know.  I can't have my cake and eat it too.  But sometimes you want to!  Bottom line.  I've done this before.  Hello, Beth.  You've done this before...um, I'd say every year for your entire life.  So yeah, it's scary...all this change for the second year. 

But I've done it before and I can do it again.

Change.

A Birthday Post

I talked to Jeansy today.  It's her birthday until midnight...I guess that's how it usually works.  But I called her today for her birthday...since I'm "broke but not flat busted"...you won't get that unless you are her...but since I am poor a birthday shout-out will have to do this year.

We caught up on each other, relationships, families, school (life), the latest gossip, and the olden days.  She then mentioned that she is a faithful reader.  So there are STILL people out there in cyber-world that are reading this thing.  It kind of makes me laugh...but she said she can read it and hear my voice.

That's the biggest thing to me.  I write this for the memories but I do write it in the exact way I talk.  I feel like I'm telling you a story.  For me, it's like I'm having a conversation...albeit, very one sided...but I want my family and friends along for this ride...so they at least have a glimpse at what is going on.

Talking with her made me laugh.  Honestly, we haven't gotten caught up since Chad died.  We were going to eat together while we were both home for a brief stint in May.  Thankfully she understood when I had to cancel.  So today was good for lots of reasons.  I really love that we can pick up right where we left off.  Sharing funny memories and secret stories...I mean, she did have the pleasure of living with me for two years.  It was a happy day for me too.

Hope you had a great day Jeansy.  23 years old.  The baby of the group is getting old. 

 Back when we could count on Jenty.  Always able to drive.

Happy Birthday my Jeansy Poo!

Loving and Laughing

Ready for random?  Some things I'm loving and laughing about.

1. This guy

Yeah, I know.  Hard to tell if I'm loving or laughing.  Really?  Just both.  I'm LOVING that he will be an uncle in February.  The BEST uncle at that.  I'm LOVING that he's mine.  I'm LAUGHING because he took me to the wilderness for the Fourth of July...to a cabin...with a shower that was smaller than a broom closet.  I got the last LAUGH when we were trapped in a room beside "outdoor activities" (think spring party/ Spring Break) and with a SNORING Wolfman and some active intruders/roommates.  It was HOT, LOUD, and BUGGY.  I couldn't sleep and if I wasn't sleeping...Lord KNOWS he wasn't going to be sleeping either.  He tells a hilarious  version of that same story...get him to tell you some time.

In the flesh.  Wolf.

But all in all, we had fun.  I LOVE that Tuck came to the Big City a few weekends ago.  I LOVE that we went to our first game together.  I LOVE that he got great seats.

2. It makes me laugh when people don't know when to quit a texting convo.  I love that I'm awkward enough to just stop talking because I feel like I've sufficiently conveyed my message...so really, what more COULD be said.  I've heard I leave people hanging on.  Nope, just done talking to you.

3. I laugh when people send thank you's for thank you's.  Or when they try to out-do your thank-you.  Having the last word in a thank-you war.  I think it's hilarious.

4. I love/ am laughing that I let the Roomie put shatter on my toenails.  The silver looked horrifying on my feet, yet it took me more than a week for me to take it off.  Giving a thrill to my little old patients. Is it pink or is silver?  It's cool.  I'm 23.

5.  This weekend, I'll be seeing a few of my favorites.  Tuck, Edotlouise, MyH(e)art, Janety, JBaby, Mr. Berry, and Dr. Kurt...to name a few.  So excited to be celebrating with CRae and Huangness on their special day!

6. I love that I got to spend a few days at Mimi's AND that Tuck got to come meet a lot of the family.  He saw us like we really are...and believe it or not...he STILL wants to hang around.  Can you believe it?  My uncle made him cut the meat that we were eating that night.  Let me tell you, this is the ULTIMATE in initiation to our family.  All the men who have entered have been thrown under the bus to either sink or swim by either preparing, grilling, or cutting the meat.  Carnivores we are.  He did a great job.  I love my family.

7.  I regret to admit I haven't always read Miss Joyful's blog...but I read it religiously now.  I LOVE it.  She makes me laugh.  I've had the pleasure of getting to know the author over the last couple of years.  She is the long time pal of Edotlouise and MyH(e)art, my fellow bridesmaid x 2, and our gracious hostess for MyH(e)art's Bachelorette party.  Check it out.  She's fun to read.

8.  I'm officially on "summer break".  I am soaking it up and sucking the marrow out of this time off.  I needed it.  Hoping it will get me in the right frame of mind for this next semester.  Believe it or not...I'll be half way done with the schooling portion of grad school come December.  Yeah, Little Engine That Could...I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.........

Loving and Laughing

Backstreet's Back

Yeah, they came.  NKOTBSB.  That's New Kids on the Block and Backstreet Boys...in case you didn't know. And we went...because really, WHY wouldn't we?  Plus, it was a Groupon so how could you say no.

This wasn't my first rodeo.  I saw BSB...oh, 13 years ago.  Not that much has changed in 13 years.
-Brian keeps playing games with my heart. 
-I screamed like a 10 year old girl (yeah...both times)
-Once drank a large coke and ate cotton candy.  Today? A big ass beer quenched my thirst...no cotton candy...but really wanted some.
-Boosin told me she wouldn't take me to another concert if I complained about going to school the next day from being out late...I didn't complain but definitely didn't want to go.  Woke up today and definitely didn't want to go to work.
-Once barely filled out my Limited Too bra.  Today?  We know how that goes.
-Brian, once a teen heartthrob.  Today?  A father and husband.  Yeah, pretty much the same thing.
-The band once created enviable dance moves.  Today?  Hipping and hopping...in a 30 year old kind of way.
-Once went with my mother who bought my ticket.  Today?  I purchased my own but Berns offered to hold on to my ticket until the show.  Sure, mom.
-Sang along with every song...that's obvious.
-Girls were pulled up on stage to be serenaded.  Yet again, I wasn't selected. 
-White suits from the Millennium CD were quite possibly pulled out of the closet...take note of last picture...I'm just saying.

New Kids on the Block?  Well let's see.  GREAT performers.  I definitely knew a lot of the songs.  But, the MOMS?  Oh my sweet Jesus, the MOMS.  If you've ever seen Music and Lyrics  then you know EXACTLY what the NKOTB portion of the show was like.  These women were not that old.  NKOTB really kicked it off in 1989...so we are saying like 30-40.  Ok.  So now, if you can imagine these women...who fled their homes leaving their husbands with sticky summer-smelling kids, in their shorts with a 9 inch inseam and solid color crew Tees and their hair adorned with a banana clip, swaying back and forth, fist pumping, and buzzing off their Bud Light...then you were basically AT the concert.  The majority of my entertainment came from these ladies...so I definitely appreciate their presence.

So as Joey said, "Whether you entered this journey down memory lane in 1989 (SCREAMSSSSS) (pause...pause...pause...hand to the ear...pause...pause) or 1999 (SCREAMSSS) we are glad to be on the ride with you".  It was definitely money well spent.  I felt like a kid again.  Reminiscing on my private BSB concerts in my room, kissing my Brian Littell posters on my wall, and "hyperventilating" whenever I would see them on TV.  It was great.

My worst nightmare was realized last night.... 

If these guys are still getting it.  Justin Bieber is going to be around for a long, long, time.

Backstreet's Back, Alright.

How It Should Be

I have the cutest patients.  Young and Old.  The babies melt my heart but I ADORE my oldies.  The stories of past and present and their concerns... really often times confusion makes me giggle....and tests my patience.  But they are my favorite.

I love when an older couple comes in together.  Seeing them so comfortable with one another makes me smile.  Watching them play off of one another and reveal secrets in the office is hysterical.  I love when my patient is a male (asking questions about medical history, medications, how often he's wearing his hearing aids, etc) because he always looks to his wife to give the answers.  As she speaks he will look at her with such adoration and just smile and agree as she busts him out for being a horrible pill taker, super wax producer, and seldom wearer of his hearing aids. He is usually wearing his veteran hat...proudly proclaiming what branch of the service he served for. You can't help but smile.

Guaranteed he will walk out of the counseling room and tell you how long they have been married.  Yesterday I heard,  "For seventy-one years I've been married to the same girl.  She still takes my breath away".  I teared up.  How could you not?

I feel like romance like that has changed a lot over the years.  It takes finding a prince to have car doors and really doors in general be opened for you.  Women and men have different roles these days than in days of the past.  You know, times have just changed.

Luckily, we have great examples of how "it"- marriage, love, relationships- should be.  I see it every day at work but I also saw it for 20 years with my grandparents.  Today would have been their 63rd wedding anniversary.  My grandparents ADORED each other.  Seeing the sweet twinkle in my Papa's eye when he would tell the story about the first time he saw Mimi could make you cry.

I'm sure it wasn't always easy but I'm so thankful they showed us

How It Should Be.