This is the way I live.

Have I mentioned that Betty Rascal is full grown now?
And all kinds of sassy?
Don't come near me or I'll cut you.
I guess she takes after her momma. Anyway, it is a wonder that she is still so sweet-natured after the humiliating things we make her do. Examples One, Two, and Three:

What? Mama's Family is on.

You only think I adore you.

Go ahead. Judge me. But dancing pays the bills, and I say, "if you got it, flaunt it."

Before time immemorium...
To all you bloggers out there: Have you ever wondered when you will stop blogging? Or if you ever will? I mean, do you think that you will just continue writing until you kick the bucket, and then 500 years from now, historians will have all these great stories about you from the time you were in your youth to your elder years (In 2007, the mind reader had not been invented yet, so people actually had to type their thoughts on computers!)? I have been thinking about that a lot lately. I have noticed that a lot of people have stopped posting, say for example, after law school, because a particular chapter in their life has ended, and with it, their blog.

I hope that doesn't happen to me. I kind of think it would be fun to one day tell my little grandchildren (yes, I know that means I have to have kids first; a minor detail ) that granny has a blog and they can go read it and learn all about their granny and grandpa when they were young. Even now, I find it entertaining to go back through some old posts and see what I was consumed with (or how much wine I had consumed) at that point in my life.

I'm so dangerous...
Last weekend, I was at the Knight's parents' home, and in the attic, I discovered some old poems that I had written in the throes of my teenage angst. Apparently, I thought they were of great literary value, because they were all stuffed in a manila file entitled "VERRRRRY Important Papers. Do Not Touch. That means you, DANIEL!" (Daniel is my now 22 year old brother.) I'm certain my warning completely dissuaded him from taking a peek.

I meant to bring them back to Memphis with me, but inadvertently left them. As soon as I can get my hands on them, I promise I will post some. They are embarrassingly crass and full of cliches. Every single one is so bitter and jaded, you would have thought I came from some terrible childhood. Also, almost every one had something to do with sex. Sex is something I did not know about firsthand until much, much later, but that didn't stop me from writing about it. Clearly, I was going through puberty. And trying to be some sort of artistic, alternative, emo-ish old soul.

Also, remember that post about me winning the songwriter's contest? Well, I found the newspaper clipping of that in the paper, too. God bless my mother, she really did save everything. I will try to remember to bring that too, and scan it in.

A dash in the past.
Last weekend, one of my best friends from high school and I went back to good old White House, Tennessee. In case you didn't know, football is a religion in White House. Growing up, I thought it was normal for football players to be revered as near-immortals. When the movie Varsity Blues came out, I had to do some significant research to convince myself that my hometown was not the inspiration for the movie. Even our colors are blue and white. In 1997, the football gods smiled down on the Blue Devils and they won the State Championship. I don't think they have been very good since then, but last weekend, we all returned home to celebrate a 10 year reunion of BDP (Blue Devil Pride). While I was a little surprised at myself for agreeing to go, I have to admit that it was good to be back. White House had grown so much, but it was still pretty, lush, and quaint. Whoever is in charge of their zoning had done an excellent job preserving the integrity of the small town while allowing new, big businesses to settle in. We drove by our old houses, our old haunts, old ex-boyfriends' houses, and other places that were permanently cemented in my mind and heart as tokens from my past.

I was surprised to see how little people had changed. Most people looked exactly the same, plus 5 or so pounds. A couple people had a few more wrinkles than most, and one guy who was a real hottie in high school had gone completely gray. What was more fascinating to me was the paths their lives had taken. Almost everyone had children (except for me and my friend) and was/had been married, a few were in jail, one had passed away. One of the wildest partiers was now a youth minister with four kids. Some of the shyest students were now gregarious managers, bartenders, or professors. One girl was a belly-dancer. Another one had totally surprised everyone, and outed herself (I apologize if that is not the PC way to say it). One of my old boyfriends had been married, had a child, and gotten divorced in the 7 years since we dated. Another old friend candidly shared her struggle with leaving her career, being a mommy, and wrestling with postpartem depression. Another friend had married his little brother's ex-girlfriend. Everywhere, people sharing their stories, some genuinely sincere and others still trying to climb the high school ladder - talking to acquaintances until another "more popular" person came by.

I think the thing that was most comforting to me was that almost everyone seemed so comfortable in their skin. Like we had all grown into our potential or our calling to be teachers, professionals, mechanics, mommies, daddies, husbands and wives, and seemed content with it. I'm sure some people were faking it, and others were going through some major turmoil, but it was hard to tell if they were. That night, as my friend and away drove south back to Nashville, I glanced back and for the first time in my life, I thought White House doesn't look better in the rear view mirror. It was a wonderful place to grow up, had equipped me with a good public school education, a couple lifelong friends, and an appreciation for the small town way of life.

Bum plus one?
In other news - I am loving my new car. I cannot even begin to describe to you how nice it is not to worry every time I get in the car that Oh GREAT, This might be it. I might just break down and have to hitch a ride with yet another trucker. Also, I am loving my job. Sure, there are a few teensy drawbacks (i.e., pay isn't as high as a firm job, but then I also don't work 90 hours a week), but my assignments are interesting, my hours are wonderful, and everyone I work with is very friendly.

Recently, I signed up to run another 5K. The Le Bonheur Pumpkin Run is on October 13th, and I am pumped. I haven't been as diligent about running since we moved here, and my butt is starting to anarchy against the rest of my body and declare its independence.

Also, Jess(ica) and I have decided to tentatively dip our toes into Lake Entrepreneur. We are considering making crafty things (indie aprons, tea towels, embellished wifebeaters, and possibly some paintings) and selling them at the local craft fairs here. Apparently, Memphis has tons (Germantown Festival, Cooper Young Festival, Cordova Fest, Pink Palace Arts Fair, etc), and although we don't envision ourselves getting rich (breaking even would be nice), it will be a fun creative outlet and something different than the beloved LAW.

We were inspired when we went to the Cooper Young Festival this weekend. Here are some pictures from the event:

It's how much?!?

Aprons - our inspiration.

I like getting my pups. Pronto.

Art imitating life?


Picture this.
Okay, so, some of you may not be interested in this next part, but I promised friends I would do this. The following are pictures of our apartment. We have been very busy little bees, and I finally have the dang innernet at home, so I now I can upload these pictures.

Betty Rascal welcomes you to our home!

The Knight would like to invite you inside.

Dining Room (I use the term loosely).

Our China Cabinet. Something I get truly excited about? Dishes! Why yes, I would like an afghan. Certainly, you can borrow my arthritis cream. Grandkids? Heavens, no! I am only 26.
Our living room. Betty insisted she be in the picture.
My latest painting. I like to think that it represents a modern vineyard.

The wingback chairs and ottoman were hand-me-downs that we got recovered this summer.

Pocket full of posies! A chair that I refinished, painted, and reupholstered.

Our guest bedroom. The theme for this room is Parisian B&B. The quilt on the bed was made by my great-great-grandmother on my mom's side. Isn't it gorgeous?

Our guest bathroom. Still trying to continue the European theme.

Our bedroom. Mom helped me make the toile throw pillows and the monogrammed one. The monogrammed one was made out of two place mats on clearance from the Williams Sonoma outlet. Aren't we crafty?
More toile and our little chair. This was the Knight's late grandmother, and will look great in our bedroom once we have paint on the walls.

Our bathroom.
Have I ever mentioned how I am in love with the Pottery Barn Outlet. $79 shower curtain for $22!
Shiny, Freckled People! With Bonus 20% More Bushy Eyebrows!
We hope you enjoyed the tour. Please come visit again!


ashleystravel said...

I just adore those chairs that you painted/refinished/reupholstered.

Thanks for the tour!

I don't feel like my high school friends look any "older." I wonder if other people think we look old....

Miss Foxy said...

Your place is awesome! I love the chair you did as well! WHERE is this Williams Sonoma outlet?

Miss Foxy said...

About that link...Yeah. I showed some of my friends and one of them pulled up a variety of You Tube stuff of reactions. Some people fall out of their chairs. One guy ripped his computer off the desk. They were watching the maze version, where you follow a few mazes that get smaller and smaller so you end up moving closer to the screen...and you can see where that is going. Sorry for scaring you so badly! I freaked out and frantically tried to close my laptop. I gave the guy who gave me the link a big verbal tirade today for it.

Pargolo said...

I LOVE that first painting. Amazing. When are you going to post more examples of your work?

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