Good News

Who got accepted to grad school this week?

This guy did.

Odds

I was sitting here thinking, what are the odds of encountering two broken heaters during abnormally cold conditions in one winter season? when I realized I had never said anything about Thanksgiving. Travesty.

There's not much to say except that it was wonderful and everything I hoped it would be, except for our cabin had a broken heater. I got to see family and friends, hike, eat a lot, read, sit around a fire, listen to football games, and other life affirming moments.

And now I'm out of school, and it's wonderful and everything I hoped it would be, except now our heater is broken, which we only realized today when we broke down and decided to turn it on. But always, the good outweighs the bad, so it's fine and snuggly.

After the Advent lighting travesty, I went to the Advent festival and made my own wreath.

All of the women said, "Oh, you did such a good job this morning!" That was worrisome, because I don't speak old women yet, and I don't know if there was Southern sarcasm in that. I think I'm being overly paranoid. But I like these women because they speak their mind and scoff at Martha Stewart and say, "My daughter would never let me look like that," which is oddly comforting to me.

Tis the Season

A few weeks ago, the curriculum director at our church asked Tim and I if we wanted to light an advent candle (that is, stand in front of the church, read a little script about Advent season, and light a purple candle in a wreath). Well, technically, she asked if we wanted to the backup readers. She had already asked two people, but she hadn't heard from them.

We agreed, and I admit I was a little disappointed when we found out we were staying on the bench. Both people said yes, but she would put us on the list for next year.

Last week, however, we got an email asking if we could light the candle this Sunday, the Sunday before the one we were on call for. We agreed, happy to make it off the wait list.

Now, we were already at a disadvantage, because beside the important symbolic act of lighting the candle, the second most important thing is to have small children that will inevitably be adorable when they say their line. Thankfully we were delegated the early service, a service without as much gusto as the main service.

We arrived to our reserved pew (it even had the fancy sign on it!) and noticed the lighter and the acolyte candle. Tim said we should just use the lighter, but we go to a church where every Sunday men wear suits and ties, it's acceptable for women to wear Sunday hats, and the choir performs an anthem that could be on a movie soundtrack, so I thought, this is not a church where one lights the Advent candle with a lighter, we much use the alcolyte candle. Why else would it be there?

So you can probably tell where this is going.

My brain said "no, no, no!" but my fingers didn't listen and accidentally hit the knob that snuffs the candle out, right before Tim read the line, "we light this candle..."

I scurried back to the pew to grab the lighter and was still able to light the candle almost on cue, as the actual lighting of the candle is only the most important part of being the Advent candle lighter. It was not, however, done gracefully, and I felt shame. I came off the bench and didn't quite deliver.

Of course, my church isn't judgemental, and the pastor admitted (only when I brought up the snafu) that it happens almost every week, and he remembered he should have warned us that the candle burned out quickly as we approached the stand, which was of course too late. The woman I sat next too had a long list of Advent candle lighting stories where everything worked out much worse than my mistake did, and we both laughed at how such a simple act can produce so many things that go wrong.

But the main lesson of the story: don't light the Advent candle unless you have little children. They will steal the show and no one will care about you, and also, if something goes wrong, you can blame them.

Also, I hope this doesn't ruin my chances of making it off the bench for the handbell choir.

In case anyone was wondering

I thought this Harry Potter movie was better than the book.

6 degrees of Arkansas

I want to play a game to see if I can connect myself to anyone who has roots in Arkansas. So far, I am 1 for 1, thanks to the wonderful Amanda Cofer.

It starts at the eye doctor's (again). It only took a week and a half of having to wear only my glasses to decide buying a new pair with the right prescription was worth the money. (Remember the eye virus that was not herpes?) So I went in and someone was shadowing my eye doctor.

(And a quick aside about this eye doctor trip. He recommended having a picture taken of the inner eye, because they can find out all kinds of things about your brain and blood and skin by looking around. It turns out I have a freckle on the back of my eye. Isn't that crazy? You can have freckles there just like anywhere else in your body. And like everywhere else, these freckles aren't inherently dangerous, but you have to watch and see if they morph into melanoma, so in fact, I'll be having many future pictures of my inner eye.)

Anyway, that has nothing to do with the story I'm trying to tell, except for the fact that there was this guy, not an eye doctor, shadowing my eye doctor for some reason I don't know and might not ever know. He ended up leaving at the same time as me, and casually asked if I was from Wilmington.

"No," I said. "I've lived here about two and a half years. I'm originally from Arkansas."

"No way!" he said. "Where in Arkansas?"

"Fayetteville." I never know how much I need to describe where Fayetteville is. But this guy knew.

"No way!" he said.

It turns out, when he was a junior in college, he had met a girl on a cruise who had just graduated Searcy High School. She was headed toward college in Fayetteville, and they had had a romance. It eventually fizzled out, as they were young and lived in different states, although they did manage to visit each other after the initial meeting. But, he said, he had been trying forever to find out what/who she became. He kept insisting he was happily married, and that he was pretty sure she was also happily married, but he just wanted to know.

I could totally understand. So I wrote down her name, he immediately friended me on facebook, and I told him I was about 85% sure I could track down this girl.

It wasn't hard. I called Cofer and my mom, and Cofer made the connection. It turns out Cofer's mom know this girls mom, and within seven hours, I had a name and number for this guy.

So: this guy in the parking lot --> me --> Cofer --> Cofer's mom --> the girl's mom --> this girl.

Who wants to play next?

As a child of 25

Well, now I'm 25, so I can sing with absolute conviction "Chocolate" by Snow Patrol.

 More notably, I now know about more of the history of Old Wilmington, thanks to the ghost tour Tim and I went on. Our tour guide was a profession actor. He said his favorite movie he was in was Huck Finn, the one with Elijah Wood. But more often, he said, he's the murderer on Unsolved Mysteries. At least he's okay with that.

And I suppose I can forgive everyone for not getting me a dog for my birthday, because otherwise, it was perfect.


UPDATE: I just realized I can now rent a Suburban. Anyone want to road trip?

What they don't tell you about growing up

Tonight Tim drove me to a friend's house so that I could babysit while he went to youth group. While I was there I did my homework and chatted with my mom. Tim came at the very end (to save me the embarrassment of having to wait on him to pick me up) to drive me back home. In the meantime, he played Xbox.

Despite reverting back to junior high, I'm turning 25 next week.

(but, let me say, baby Nicholas is one cute, well-behaved baby.)

Gray

Today is one of those days where I have to talk myself into doing things...anything, really. I even for a moment wondered if I would be fired if I wore a hoodie to teach my Korean class, just this once.

Luckily, I am food motivated.

Happy Halloween!

Aretha Franklin'a inaugural hat

soccer playa

5th Annual

Tim had been prepared since September.

Dumbledore

a reason people should go to church

My left eye is trying to sabatoge my semester. At various moments in the semester, it turns red (especially on Tuesdays), and occasionally hurts and gives me a headache. But after a week of glasses wearing I can usually get it under control. Last night it started feeling funny, so I took out my contacts earlier than normal, but alas, this morning I woke up to the climax of eye pain.

But, it just so happens that I go to the most educated church ever, and am in a Sunday morning Bible study with two lawyers, the retired head of the English department at Syracuse university, Tim, someone who is also smart but whose profession I don't know, and, EUREKA! an eye doctor! The eye doctor in the closest proximity to my apartment! I didn't go to church because I was sensitive to light and was feeling nauseous (I think my eye and my stomach have an express route, because this happens more than you might think). But the heroic eye doctor was able to diagnose me through the phone and Tim's summary, and he met me at his close office to write a prescription.

It turns out I've had a virus (not herpes, which is the only virus a google search will lead you to believe exists) in my left eye  all semester, and an increased sensitivity to the preservatives in the off brand contact solution, which stresses out both of my eyes. So basically the point of this story is that my eyes are drama queens, and somehow know that they have all control over my ability to write and teach, and like to dangle that in front of me. And everyone should stop using offbrand solution because it's not the same, and preservatives are going to destroy all of us!

Some dreams do come true

A non-graphic story about giving blood

Today I gave blood, and immediately after being stuck, the nurse said, "Whoa. WHOA. wow! Did you feel that?"

I've given about two gallons of blood in my life... enough so I wasn't concerned going in, but I was freaking out after the first Whoa. Any  physical sensation bottlenecked with panic.

"No," I said, trying to concentrate to see if I felt anything unusual. I didn't.

She said, "The needle just completely turned around."

I just looked at her so she explained further. "Sometimes we just let the needle do what it wants after it goes in, and it just turned completely around. Wow!"

I did want her to elaborate, but I couldn't bear any gross image during the actual giving blood process, so I decided to ask after it ended. Unfortunately, she wasn't there when I finished, so I could never ask.

But, like, whoa! What happened?!?

This weekend I take a test that determines whether or not I can graduate in the spring.

Whoa.

The good and the bad

The bad: Time Warner cable did something and now we don't get the Oxygen network which means now we don't get SNAPPED, thus killing my fantasy in which I eat pizza for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and watch Snapped for six hours straight (except for a pause in which I check the mail and have received at least three letters).

The good: The only reason I know this is because UNCW canceled classes because of the rain, and then because of fall break, so I had time to watch television beyond the Thursday night golden hour.

The Creek of The Creek Apartments

The bad: Because of all this rain and closings (22 inches in 4 days!), I went stir crazy.

The good: This weekend was also Riverfest, so I got to fight through the same amount of people in an hour that I would normally have seen in a four day span. Plus, I purchased pumpkin barbeque sauce and jalapeno dill salsa, and they're both amazing.

The bad: Tim and I looked at our living room fan today and noticed it had an appalling amount of dust, and wondered why we hadn't noticed it in the (surely) months it had looked that way.

The good: I've also had time to notice all of the crazy little birds that comes to my porch bird restaurant. Cardinals, hummingbirds, finches, mourning doves, blue jays, and two or three kinds of sparrows have provided me endless entertainment.

The bad: Just like that, I've turned into a crazy bird lady. Or a 90 year old grandmother.

Bring it, TS Nicole

The highest score I've ever bowled included no strikes. Granted, the score was only, like, 107, but it was made of all spares and 9's.

Likewise, Wilmington is about to receive it's record amount of rain (after being in a 15 inch drought), surpassing the amount that Hurricane Floyd brought. That's the most destructive Wilmington hurricane.

http://www.starnewsonline.com/article/20100929/ARTICLES/100929608/1155?Title=Rain-tonight-could-break-Hurricane-Floyd-record

See. Wilmington and I don't need major events to set high scores.

He's just not that into you

It's taken me until my mid-20s, but I've figured you out, Fall. Everyone loves you because you're beautiful and a nice change of pace. Suddenly we can open our windows and keep your perfume throughout our house. You bring gifts of football and apple cider and make us remember all the good times we've had in the past, jumping into leaves, carving pumpkins, taking hay rides. I love these days, Fall. It makes me remember what a perfect world it can be

But that's it. It's not like you stick around long. A few weeks for some leaves to change, a few days where we can wear jackets in the morning, tee shirts and jeans comfortably in the day, and then you're out of town, goodbye, see ya later, sucker. And you know what? Even when you're here, you're kind of moody. Cool one day, hot the next. I never know how it's going to be with you.

So I understand. You're just a little fling trying to ruin my one true relationship with summer. So I won't fall for you. Especially since you don't even change the leaves much in Wilmington, and the beach doesn't go anywhere, and I saw an amazing football game in the heat and it was still just as fun. So there.

Does Arkansas Have a Food?

While I was retrieving my dish from the church potluck last week, an older lady asked me what I had brought. It was couscous with Rotel and garbanzo beans, so I quickly explained I just threw the ingredients together. I knew couscous wasn't the most common of foods, so I tried to explain.

She stopped me. "Rotel?" she asked me to clarify. Apparently, couscous wasn't the confusing factor.

Another Arkansan was standing nearby. "They don't know about Rotel here," she said.

Is this true? Is using Rotel in every other recipe an Arkansas thing?

I thought catfish was our only signature dish.

Happy Talk Like A Pirate Day!

Clear the decks for pleasant action, and drink battle, murder, shipwreck, and hellfire to this day for swashbucklers, filibusters, freebooters, and gentlemen of fortune...or else you'll be blasted to Davy Jones and the death you'll face will make men's blood run cold for a hundred years.

Thesis Freakout 9.13

On a scale of 1 to 10, how big of a problem is it to have a 13 page story that has 9 named characters and a dog?

Embarassing Story

Making pancakes is not a risk free activity, but I have to admit, I did not expect to burn my stomach.

Where I Should Live....

Apparently, right where I was before Wilmington. Who knew.


Fayetteville, Arkansas
Alexandria, Louisiana

Little Rock, Arkansas

Charleston, West Virginia

Shreveport-Bossier City, Louisiana

Frederick, Maryland

Baton Rouge, Louisiana

Monroe, Louisiana

Greenville, South Carolina

Baltimore, Maryland

Chattanooga, Tennessee

Tulsa, Oklahoma

Lafayette (Cajun Country), Louisiana

Clarksville, Tennessee

Norfolk, Virginia

Biloxi-Gulfport, Mississippi

Charlotte, North Carolina

Hampton, Virginia

Gainesville, Florida

Tuscaloosa, Alabama

Richmond, Virginia

Raleigh, North Carolina

Hattiesburg, Mississippi

Tallahassee, Florida
 
Find your spot

September 11

Tim and I were talking yesterday about how we are among the youngest that will clearly remember the events of 9/11/01. We were in 10th grade. I'm sure people a few years younger understood and will remember, but around about fifth grade, the details get confusing. I vaguely remember the Oklahoma City Bombing; mostly, I remember my mom's reaction when it happened, and then eventually put the pieces together once they had a suspect.

I don't get tired of telling the story about how I found out the World Trade Center was attacked and how my day preceded. And that makes me glad that, at least for three years, I've lived in a community of story-tellers.

A picture of me in the 10th grade, with the wonderful Stephanie

On a less serious note, I'm also glad that I spent four years in an SEC community. I didn't know a ton when I was in high school, but I knew enough to decide on the University of Arkansas, so.....

Labor Day Reunion

I am thankful for friends across the United States that know the beauty of spending seven straight hours at the beach doing absolutely nothing (besides swimming and flirting/watching-Olivia-flirt with lifeguards.)

Wilmington, NC   August 2010

Sydney, Australia  March 2007

So many years later, I sometimes still feel disappointed whenever it comes time to recycle the middle of the paper towels. I remember when paper towels couldn't be finished quickly enough. There were more important things for tubes of cardboard than holding napkins together.

Things That Don't Change in Two Years

At the beginning of every year, I begin to suspect that my acceptance to graduate school was a fluke, and I start wishing for some terrible, yet curable, disease that allows me to drop out without shame.

Eventually, I get workshopped, it isn't the end of the world, and I remember that UNCW is a supportive program, not a ruthless or competitive one.




But that hasn't happened yet, so if you don't see me, I'll be on WebMD searching my options.

I bring you this cheesy grin because I just wrote two 190 page EFL workbooks in six weeks, in addition to my two normal summer jobs.

I marked off every chapter on the calendar.

Here's hoping that's not the way my thesis gets written.

Another shark week has come and gone.

That's the circle of life.

Sad Days

My family said goodbye to one of its members this weekend.

Love you, Zoe!

Happy 2 Year Anniversary to Us

WE'RE ON A BOAT

There are plenty of obvious reasons why Tim is such a great guy, but I thought I'd take a moment to list 5 minor reasons.

1) He likes pizza as much as I do.
2) He decided what American soccer team to be a fan of based on their jerseys.
3) He chose the soccer team with lime green and blue as their colors.
4) He thinks all songs should end with  "yeah" ie: "What Up With That" style. (I personally agree.)
5) He politely listens when I talk about the Justin Timberlake empire.

and a bonus:
6) He reads my blog.

Snapshots of Wilmington in the summer

Sharks and Gators

You might be thinking 4 blog posts in 1 day is a bit ridiculous, but it is only because I am happy to be alive after encountering, over the past 2 weeks, a wild shark AND a wild alligator.

I'll start with the shark. My parents have been in town, and the 4 of us went scuba diving to 2 artificial shipwrecks off the coast. It was really amazing. We saw about 10 sand tiger sharks of various lengths just hanging out. They really could have cared less about us humans. Some even got a little too close for comfort, but it was as though they were oblivious we were there, not in a threatening kind of way.

But then, a week later, we were at the beach when this happened. Yes, that is the exact same shark, and we were at the beach, only a few blocks down. We saw the ambulance and everything, although we didn't know what was going on.

But don't worry folks. Shark week is only a few weeks away, and until then, we should be more scared of  Sharktopus.

Then, today I suggested to my parents we go feed the turtles bread at Greenfield Lake. After I convinced them that yes, the turtles do in fact eat bread, we fed the raving masses.

We kept a lookout for an alligator, and sure enough, when we had about 2 pieces of bread left, Dad spotted this little fella. I snapped a picture quickly.

What I didn't realize is that this alligator was high-tailing it over to the bridge because he wanted to eat bread.

Seriously, alligator. There are 10 million turtles climbing all over you, and you want to eat bread? At least fight them off so you get a piece. (He didn't.)

Playing Adam

If I could change the names of 3 things, I would change the name of Cornhole, Rash guards, and Meatloaf.

What would you change?


(just for the record, I like the actual game/taste of Cornhole and meatloaf. I have very little experience with rash guards, but I'm sure they're great.)

A Truly Working Set

Julie and Leslie came to visit, and Leslie happens to be a One Tree Hill fan, and Wilmington just so happens to be the filming location of One Tree Hill. Perfect! After touring the OTH set, I wanted to show them where Karen's Cafe was filmed, inside one of the local coffee shops.

I should say now I've seen in total about 1.5 hours of OTH, and had no idea what Karen's Cafe was. All I knew was that in the door over Port City Java's kitchen, there was a sign: "Come tour a working film set from One Tree Hill!"

I assumed that this referred to the kitchen, as the sign was in the back of the store, slightly above and right of the kitchen door. So I confidently led the 4 of us into the Port City Java kitchen and asked Leslie if any of it looked familiar.

Yes, the kitchen looked like it had been used recently, but the sign clearly said: come in and tour a film set. I still believed that, until the coffee shop employees asked us why we were in their kitchen.

After we explained, he admitted, yes it was confusing, but we were definitely the first that made it all the way into the kitchen.

Here they are, inside a kitchen they are allowed to be in, although of yet, it has not appeared in any television shows.

The Truth Behind the USA Loss

Usually, when I've gone a long time without posting, it's because my life is the normal dull. But, that is not the case this time. Instead, it's been full of visits and visitors.

We started the month of with a visit to the University of North Carolina, which, despite being highly inferior to the University of Arkansas, is a beautiful campus in a fun town.

We also got to visit Doug, and also visit Heather, not at the same time, although they both live in the same town. But they weren't important enough to get pictures. Instead, what we cared about were the amazing fried jalapenos we ate while watching the USA lose to Ghana....

and SILLY BANDS! I'm holding a microphone, in case you couldn't tell. Yes, I know, 5th graders. I really am the coolest 24 year old you know.

(just kidding Heather and Doug! You are both really cool. In fact, if either of you read this, you should meet and hang out, because you are both so cool, even if Heather hates silly bands.)

I must admit, I somewhat feel like the United States lost in soccer because I had a hard time rooting against Ghana. Tim keeps telling me all the good players don't actually live in Ghana anyway, but still. Rooting against an African nation feels wrong, even if that is morally worse.

I can't figure out if I'm actually getting better at dodge ball, or if I'm just getting better at understanding the 5th grade mind.

I am not, however, getting better at hula hooping. Is it possible to have a figure that just doesn't support a hula hoop?

ps- after spending a summer with 4th and 5th graders, of both the American and South Korean variety, I'm a little scared I'm going to talk to my college class this fall as though they were also of that age. Class, what can you buy that starts with the letter H? Can you get through the Green Glass Doors?

I'm thinking that the Muppet comeback and my almost being done with a fine arts degree in writing might not be just a coincidence.




Actually, it probably is, but a girl could always dream.

Okay. It's probably not a big secret that I love pop music. It's not the only thing I listen to, but if my CD player told you how many times I've listened to "Hips Don't Lie," you might be slightly appalled.

So, now here is a blog feature in which I make a list of things I wish to tell the pop community.

1) I love Lady Gaga as much as the next person, but I'm really tired of her telling me what I can't do in her songs. First, she claims I can't read her poker face, then she tells me not to call her telephone, and now she's telling me (or Alejandro, but really, what's the difference) not to call her name. What can I do, Lady Gaga? Let's focus on the positive, and quit telling me what to do. ("Paparazzi," however, is wonderful...as it goes, garage glamorous, even if it is about stalking.)

2) Miley Cyrus, why are you growing up? Don't you realize you have the tween market at your fingertips? That your main competition is Justin Beiber, and his dad isn't Billy Ray AND he didn't have his own Disney show.  MILEY, SELL OUT. Be Disney's star. You'll make so much money in a few years you can join a nudist colony if you wished! Plus, I read somewhere you can't even name a Jay-Z song, when everyone knows "99 Problems" is one of the world's best song.

3) JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE PRETTY PLEASE WITH CHERRIES ON TOP MAKE ANOTHER ALBUM!

I'll leave it at that for now.

Do not worry, city of Wilmington. Your children now know how to call the hogs. And University of Arkansas, thanks to Tim's hog head and my hog nose, you will receive an influx of North Carolina residents entering around 2020. Coach K can't work forever.

Now, I'm not an overly aggressive driver, but I'm not above giving a person the stink-eye if he didn't use his blinker, or takes up every lane because she suddenly needs in the turn lane.(Likewise, I often feel I deserve the stinkeye for my own driving mistakes. It's all fair.) Or, like today, to the lady who cut me off in the Harris Teeter parking lot by zooming into the parking space I was clearly headed towards, and was closer to. This wasn't a huge deal - there was a spot open just one over, but I did lock eye contact just as I narrowed my eyes, to communicate I noticed the injustice.

She gave me a good look down as well. So much, in fact, I was a little afraid to get out of my car. I didn't regret the stinkeye, but it wasn't worth having a confrontation over. And yet, there it was, waiting for me to get out of my car to speak to me!

I avoided eye contact as much as possible, but she tracked me down.

"Hey, what's your name?"

I briefly wondered if I should tell a lie. But I didn't.

"Oh," she said. "Man, you look just like a girl I used to know, but her name was Cathy. Sorry, that's why I was staring at you."

Whew.

But maybe the sad part of this story is that my stinkeye is completely ineffective. Did she not notice at all?

Tim and I have taken the plunge ,and now the joke of choice is how we're gonna get ripped. Because nothing says ripped like Tim and Allison.

Surprise! Bon Jovi came and played a free concert at Wilmington.

Just kidding! It was just a Bon Jovi tribute band. But, they had the bad football guy (Puck?) from Glee!Just kidding! Who knows who that guy is. (Sorry the picture is dark. I didn't notice the similarities until after they had taken off their sunglasses. You might just have to trust me on their resemblance.)

My last post about photographing hummingbirds was not very successful, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to show you my new friends who apparently didn't get the memo about hummingbird feeders.
This purple finch pair (a male and female, but the female was the only one who came around in the 10 minute span I was taking pictures) have quite enjoyed my fake nectar. Only, now no hummingbirds come around.

Ahem.

UPDATE: Minutes after posting this, a different breed of finch landed on the feeder. What's the deal? And is it racist to just really want hummingbirds?

In my quest to become Flannery O'Connor, I feel I have to find out this bird information.

Is it acceptable to begin a short story, "I am a male," to otherwise clear up confusion caused by a male narrator?

My summer schedule is a little wonky (stay up late teaching Koreans, sleep pt. 1, wake up early to teach Koreans again, sleep pt. 2 ,then leave to work at day camp). So, during the sleep part 2, I've been having some odd dreams that I usually remember. Especially this week, as they replaced the windows in apartment building, which required excessive drilling.

Like, this week I dreamt Tim flushed my two favorite pairs of socks down the toilet just in SPITE. Last night I dreamt Tim and I got tickets to watch the dress rehearsal of SNL, only they had replaced the whole entire cast (Kenan was still allowed to work one of the cameras), and I couldn't see any of it because my seat was behind some wall decoration.

But, no hard feelings! Here is a picture of us at the wedding last weekend that required us to run across the Atlanta airport in fashion shoes, not practical shoes, because they canceled our original flight, only to not make the other flight and have to be 12th and 13th on the standby list on another plane, which miraculously let us on, and arrived in Dallas, and thus Waco, just the knick of time!

"It's a good time to be in the beef industry." - a (somewhat...my memory is a little hazy) direct quotation from Julie's graduation. Happy graduation, Julie and others (even if you're not in the beef industry)!

Happy half birthday to me!