Charlie Brown

Tonight there was way to much competition for my attention in terms of Halloween TV. I had to pick between Hocus Pocus, some real scary movie (like Halloween XVII) or It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown. Of course, when I saw that last one, it wasn't even a contest.

I love the Charlie Brown specials, all of them. Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown is obviously a classic. But, the Great Pumpkin is my favorite. Mostly because I am Linus, sitting in the pumpkin patch all night. I am that kid whose imagination carries them away, whose optimism is undaunted. Maybe that's why I love Halloween so much, because isn't that what it's all about?

I get that, for my age group, Halloween is all about the sexy factor. This bothers some people. I'm not going to hate on sexy costumes because: (1) been there & done that and (2) really, as long as you're over 18 and under 400 el-bees, what's wrong with showing a little leg on Halloween? It goes along with the whole pretending thing. That being said, I truly appreciate a well-thought-out, homemade costume. My affection for a self construction probably dates back to the days where my mom handmade my incredible Halloween costumes. I was Maid Marian when I was about 9 (that costume lasted years in the dress up bin). I was a Bobby Soxer in the 5th grade (that one was so awesome it got borrowed/stolen a couple years later). When I was 14 (that's right, my mom made my costume when I was in the 9th grade) I was a gypsy and my mom sewed handkerchiefs together to make a skirt for me. Who wouldn't love Halloween when it came with things like that?

And did I mention I love candy? And scary movies? And haunted houses? And carving pumpkins?

I just spent 25 minutes looking for my favorite Halloween book online, signed up for a trial membership of Amazon Prime to save on shipping, and mailed it to M. Just spreading the spooky love!

This is it, The Candy Witch. It's not in print anymore, but if you've ever read it I'm sure it's stuck with you (if just for the scene with the lemonade fountains and candy filling the town square. Just remember, if you find a little bit of candy in your pocket, it was probably this little witch!

This weekend I plan to do all things Halloween, and drag M along with me. I'm using this to get into the spirit. Also, I plan on being in costume, even if I'm the only one!

I Want...

I tend to think setting goals is somewhat cliche. Let me preface that by saying: I know a lot of people do it, and a lot of people do achieve the goals they set for themselves. M's dad told me that he set a goal to be a millionaire by the time he was 30, and he did it! I'm not trying to take away from that. But for me, goals tend to be more stressful than empowering. I tend to be paralyzed by timelines and the fear of absolute failure. Today, though, I started thinking about the things that I want in my life. Wants are less anxiety-provoking. Wants are goals without pressure. On some level wants form and drive goals, but they come without the possibility of not making it.

So, without further ado, the first few things I came up with while wandering around my new city:

I want...

...to be a lifelong learner. This might mean being back in school multiple times. This might mean working in academia (though I doubt it). This might mean getting a job that requires re-certification. Whatever it means, as an alumna of Mr. Jefferson's University, I believe strongly in constantly learning.

...a partner. I want a solid, for-life, commitment to another person who I can depend on and who will depend on me. I want to build and share a life with my significant other. I would like to be married someday, but honestly, I don't need that. I think it would surprise a lot of people to hear me say that, but truthfully the foundation is so much more important to me than the paperwork.

...to do more good than harm. I want to use my education to build a career where I'm contributing to my community. I'm off to a good start with my new job. I hope this is the kind of experience that will open doors into the nonprofit or education world.

...to have a child. (Not any time soon, mind you. I'm thinking more along the lines of a decade from now.) I want to raise that child in a home where he or she knows love and structure and stability and potential. I want to be a good mom. I want to be able to put my child through college the way my parents did for me.

...to find myself alone on the beach at least once a year for my entire life. There's a new(ish) song on the radio by Dave Matthews and Kenny Chesney. One of the lines is: stars are dancing on the water here tonight/it's good for the soul when there's not a soul in sight. I know this feeling. I need this feeling. I want it. If I can't have the beach as my permanent residence then I want to be able to rely on a regular trip to re-center.

These are the very basics of what I want for me & my life. There's more that I want, but I think if I had these things I could live happily ever after. I hope so, because as I read over them, these five 'wants' would create a fairly well rounded life.

P.S. I got invited to a party here in my new town! I wasn't around to go to it (bummer) but the point is, I had an invite! After 5 days of living here. Maybe I'll make friends more quickly than I thought :)

Are You Serious?

Sometimes you have to defend The South as a whole. Sometimes you have to spend time convincing others that not everyone here is as ass-backward as the movies make them out to be.

Other times you just have to laugh, because all stereotypes come from somewhere.

Like this winner:

I made my aunt wait outside the grocery store for this guy to walk outside so I could get a picture. Yep, that's a guy. I sent the picture via cell phone to my mom, she called me and asked, "what is that?" My uncle had even seen the guy a couple days before. Know how he recognized him? He was wearing the exact same thing. What you can't see from this picture is the handlebar mustache, curled up on the ends, Snidely Whiplash style. Unreal.

And here's the second gem from my weekend:

Mhm. Two churches and some 'coon hunters. That would be raccoons (I hope), for those of you who don't speak Tennessee. My uncle says they meet weekly. Gotta stay on top of the cutting edge to catch those crafty raccoons. Side note: when my friend had raccoons in her attic, it took animal control a couple of hours and one big trap to get them out. Skillful hunting, no?

Tennessee, let's make a deal. I will attempt to defend you, my current state of residence. In return you must try to keep these kinds of things to a minimum. There's only so much I can explain away.

Home?

If the adage, "home is where the heart is," is true, I'm a long way from home. And probably a bit scattered. Some of my heart is up with my mom and dad, some is in Bburg with my brother, some is in Boston with my friends from college, some is in Kville with my friends there, and a big huge piece of my heart is back with M. I've officially moved 175 miles away, as of this morning. Yeah that doesn't sound so horrible, but here I sit, my life changing dramatically, and no one who loves me within check-in distance. Everyone keeps asking me if I'm excited. I don't know how to answer that question. I know the answer they're looking for is a simple and exuberant "yes!" but I can't bring myself to do that without tearing up. Here's what I feel:

I'm anxious. I'm starting a real job tomorrow that isn't going to pay me enough to live. I'm far from my family and friends. I know no one in this town. I'm not sure I live in the safest place ever. I have no idea how I'm going to take care of my health here. Not to mention that I do anxiety pretty darn well.

I'm sad. I left my handsome, fun, funny, sweet, charming M more than two hours away. In a different timezone. I know people do this all the time. I've done distance before myself. It doesn't mean I can't be sad about it.

I'm lonely. I've never been a very good play-by-yourself person. I like to be around other people. I don't know how I'm going to meet people. I have some connections through friends back in Kville, we'll see how that goes.

And I am excited, a little. About the potential of what this job could bring. Because they're so excited to have me working with them. I'm in a big city again, with lots to do and see.

I just wish some things were different. Namely I wish my innately anxious self would just chill out so I could enjoy this new step. (Anyone have some Xanax I could borrow?) I also wish that more people could just listen when I say these things. I'd give voice to them more often if I knew I wasn't going to be met with the same five statements of encouragement every time. I know every single person means well, I don't mean to be ungrateful for the support. It's just frustrating. Then again, maybe giving voice to my myriad of feelings isn't the solution. Maybe I need to swallow those anxious feelings and fake it til I make it. I think there is a lot of validity in that process as well. It worked in College, it worked in Kville, maybe it'll work here too.

I honestly never thought I'd drive away from Kville crying. After a year and a half there, I figured I'd be ripping off the rear view mirror and flipping the town the bird as I burned rubber off into the distance. Then, something changed over the last year. Kville became my home. I have an incredible community there. It was so hard to leave it behind. I type all this melodrama knowing full well that I'll be going back there a week from Friday. If I listen to that other old adage, "home is where you hang your hat" then Kville isn't my home. But so much of my heart is there. So much more of my heart than I ever imagined.

This post seems disjointed and poorly written as I read over it. It makes sense because that's how I feel. Disjointed. Out of place. Uncomfortable. Tomorrow I start work, and maybe things will be a little better. And maybe I'll just spend the next two weeks counting down to going back to Kville. It's okay, I knew I would feel that way at first. New places are hard. I need to work on repeating, "I'll make this better," instead of, "it's only a year and then I can move." Then again, the second was my motto when I first moved to TN and that turned out alright too.

Spoiled Girl - Part II (Atlanta to Fairhope)

Part II of the trip morphed from my birthday to being in town to help M's mom celebrate her birthday. She's so kind to me, and loves to see her son, obviously. I was excited to spend part of the weekend visiting with her, too!

Sunday 9am: We wake up, drag ourselves out of bed and pack up. The valets bring the car around (doesn't that make us sound rich?) and we're on our way. We've decided to take a meandering trail down to M's mom in Fairhope, Al. so we need to start early!

Sunday morning: Our route takes us through Eufaula and Dothan, Al., straight down to I-10, which we follow over until we are just north of Destin, Fl.

Sunday 1:30(ish)pm: I have never been to Destin, and after sharing this fact, M decides that's where we're having lunch. We're looking for a waterfront hole-in-the-wall and find the Boatdock Oyster House - perfect! Half dozen raw & a fish sandwich for M, Oyster po-boy for me (yum!) and we're back on the road.

Sunday afternoon: Our next goal is the world famous Florabama Lounge and Package Store. We drive through Pensacola, Fl., which takes us by this gem of a billboard:

We make it just in time to have a can of corona (I know they're selling these in stores now, but this was the first place I'd seen them) and dip our toes in the ocean.

Sunday 7pm: After 11 hours in the car, we're finally headed for our final destination for the day; beautiful Fairhope, Alabama. When we get there M makes us all an incredible steak dinner. I fall asleep on the couch watching family guy. It's been a long day, and we've got plans for tomorrow!

Monday 8am: We wake up and have a big cup of coffee on the porch and make a plan to go explore downtown. M's not feeling too well, and he's so sore he can't walk fast enough to keep up with me (nor can I make myself walk slow enough to keep down with him). We make due, and see the Fairhope library, as well as several shops in the artistic, eclectic downtown area.

Monday 1pm: M's mom has driven into Mobile, so we meet her there (a whopping 20 minutes away) for lunch at a local wing restaurant. No one gets wings, but it's delicious nonetheless.

Monday 3pm: On the way into Mobile, M saw the U.S.S. Alabama and arrows to the National Battleship Park, and suddenly we had afternoon plans. I know a lot of girls who would hate this plan for the afternoon, but climbing all over a big spooky WWII battleship sounds awesome to me! So after a quick drive down government street in Mobile, oohing and ahhing over the gorgeous southern homes, this is where we end up:

Pretty sure there are ghosts in the infirmary. Creepy:

Monday 6:30pm: We call M's mom on our way back and have her meet us at the Fairhope Pier to watch the sun go down over Mobile bay. M's looking like he feels worse and worse as the day goes on, but he seems to enjoy the peace of watching the sunset.

Monday 8pm: After a simple and elegant dinner at home (steak and rosemary potatoes), M completely tanks. Running a fever, totally out of it--he's not okay. A couple of Tylenol, an antibiotic, and a cup of tea later & M was passed out in bed.

Tuesday 8am: It's an early morning after a long night. M's fever spiked again in the night, but between the two of us (and Tylenol, thank God for Tylenol) we got it to break. He's feeling much better this morning, which is good because we have an 8 hour drive ahead of us.

Tuesday Morning: We shop a little with M's mom (I got a great trench coat for $25- original $130!) have a shrimp lunch and hit the road by our goal time of 1pm. An amazing feat, trust me.

Tuesday 9:30pm: We're rolling back into town, totally worn out, but happy with our adventure. We've spent 5 days with little or no time away from each other and not killed one another. This is a good sign for our relationship, methinks.

All in all, it was great (minus the whole M-knocking-on-death's-door thing). I'm really enjoying telling people all about our wonderful trip, emphasis on my M's superhuman effort to give me an incredible birthday present.

Spoiled Girl - Part I (Atlanta)

Here's a recap of my crazy, 1,300-mile, spoiled-girl, weekend. We got back Tuesday. But like everything else in my life, I've been procrastinating. Better late than never? (Maybe that should be the title of my blog. Sidebar: It is very very very conflicting to be both a type-A, high anxiety person, and a professional-level procrastinator.)

Friday morning, 8am: Get up to run errands: Bank & Walmart. Thank God for Superstores or my errands would have taken four times as long.

Friday morning(ish), 11am: M picks me up & we run his errands.

Friday 12:30pm: We hit the road headed for the Westin, downtown Atlanta! My babe treats me right.

Friday 5(ish)pm: We arrive at hotel, check into our room on the 44th floor and take in the breathtaking view. From the window we can see our next stop, the Georgia Aquarium!

Friday Evening: I am beyond excited about this trip to the aquarium. Shark week is possibly my favorite week of the year. I was promised Whale Sharks and I can't WAIT to see them. They have four in a huge 'ocean' tank. Here's an incredible picture I took while we were there:

And another of us being silly:

After the aquarium we wander around centennial park for a little bit & check out what was going on at the Coke Museum - a Darius Rucker Concert! M learned the song "Alright" and has been singing it for me in a few of his shows lately. When it starts playing outside of the museum he said, "Ok, now we have to stay and listen!"

By this point we are starving. Dinner was Mexican, a favorite of ours, and right next to the hotel! Then we went back and change quickly. We walk a million miles to find some live music and were accosted by a few homeless people along the way (I got conned--well technically, I got M conned--out of 3 bucks. I've been out of the city way too long!). We hang out at a cool place in midtown called Publik and then head back to the room. We have another long day ahead of us!

(Check out how I got to end my night. Am I a lucky girl or what?)

Saturday 8:30am: Hit snooze.

Saturday 9:30am: Get up & shower. We have things to do!

Saturday Morning: I'm wondering where my coffee is, M needs some supplies (shorts, a mouth guard, socks) before his big rugby game! We take a quick driving tour of his Alma Mater, Emory & head over to his fraternity house. (Personally I was a good ole GDI in college.) The place is clean and the boys are nice, M's friend shows up & we're off to the intramural fields!

Saturday 2:30pm: The game starts just in time for a major downpour. I've seen a couple of games before, but I've never seen M play. It's hard to watch him get hit, mostly because I know: 1. He doesn't have health insurance, 2. He's going to hurt for a week afterwards, and 3. I have to pee so bad that once it starts raining ridiculously hard I'm debating how (in)conspicuous it would be if i just peed my pants and then let the rain do the cover-up work.

(that's M on the ground...)

Saturday 4:30pm: I tell M we have to go somewhere I can pee RIGHT NOW, or I'm going to die. I am not exaggerating. On the way out of the parking lot I see bathrooms. Not port-a-potties that I was desperately searching the sidelines for, but actual, concrete bathrooms. My exact words were, "Son of a bitch! Pull over, I can't wait."

Saturday Evening: The pain's starting to set in for M, the hunger's starting to set in for me. We hang out at the after party for a little while, and then, deciding we are too old for all this hoopla, get some gyros (which I hoover) & go back to the room to lay down. Our weekend is not over. We have another early morning ahead of us. (See Part II)