Saturday, April 23, 2011

Nashville Rollergirls

Tell me these girls don't look badass! Those are some pretty tough lookin' ladies! I want to be a part of this! I mean, I know I can definitely take a hit... But I can surely throw a 'bow, too.

I think I could benefit from being part of a team again. This is a new goal of mine: To be a Nashville Rollergirl and kick some major ass on the flat-track. How awesome would that be?!

Friday, April 22, 2011

Bertie County, NC

On our trip to North Carolina last week, we got more than we bargained for...
We arrived Friday night and spent the evening with Mitchell's family and a few of his friends, outrunning the storm that came through Nashville earlier that day. Saturday afternoon was spent making shrimp & grits for the 300 people that were expected to attend Mitchell's friend's wedding, which was at 5:30pm. It was originally planned to be outside, but with the bad weather moving east, they moved it inside a church at the last minute.

The reception was held in a banquet hall in Windsor, NC and lasted till 11pm or so. Not far into the reception, the sky began to turn dark and the wind was picking up. Next came the rain, which poured from all directions. We could literally see clouds in the sky swirling and changing colors, and it was unlike anything I'd ever seen. The temperatures dropped significantly and people made their way to the doors to see what was going on, half of them on the phone, some of them in tears.

The news spread like wildfire. "Tornadoes were spotted." "They confirmed on the radio that 2 touched down." "They're in Askewville."

Braxton, the man who sang in the wedding ceremony got a phone call in the reception. His house was destroyed. If he and Mindy weren't at the reception, they'd be 2 more dead. Similar phone calls were made and received all night.

In the morning, the devastation became a reality, and it hit harder than the hangovers we all had. People were missing, unaccounted for, later declared deceased- killed in and by the tornadoes. It's still unsure about how many actually touched down, but we heard that there were a conformed 5 cells counted on the news.

Driving through Askewville the next morning, it was hard to hide the pain I felt for these poor people who lost everything. Mitchell's mother was already up and at the Assembly of God where they were starting to collect donations and hand out necessary items to needy families affected by the storms.

The donated items flowed in freely, without any hesitation by all kinds of organisations. Food Lion and Piggly Wiggly donated hundreds and hundreds of dollars worth of food and toiletries. Churches from all over sent volunteers. Mitchell and I volunteered our time to cook and hand-deliver food to victims, volunteers, and workers throughout Bertie County. We sat down and patted out over 300 hamburger steaks and I prepared enough instant potatoes to feed an army. The next morning, we woke up and started cooking spaghetti at 8am. It took us almost 4 hours to cook enough food for everyone using only a standard stove top and 4 huge pots in Mitchell's dad's hunting cabin.

I've never seen people come together the way those people did in Askewville. Strangers went out of their way to care for others. "What can I get you? What do you need?" Everywhere, there were handwritten fliers offering free childcare and laundering services, out of people's homes who were not affected. There was not a single person not involved in some way to help make it easier on those less fortunate. Even some children wanted to help with anything they could. Little girls colored pictures of flowers and smiley faced suns to give away.

The gymnasium was packed with food items and resting people. The walls were lined with coolers, filled with bottled water and soda and Gatorade for anyone and everyone to take a drink from. The bleachers had hundreds of canned foods stacked and lined up, with truckloads more being donated seemingly every hour.

Once we had all the food cooked, it was sent to "the ladies." The ladies were lined up on either side of 3 buffet tables where they worked like a meticulous assembly line. Their mission was to feed the hungry, filling Styrofoam boxes with equal parts food and love. Two women scooped spaghetti, two more scooped "snaps," one more threw in a roll or two, and the last couple of women stacked the boxes. On the other side of the room, a table of older women Saran-wrapped small plates of sliced cakes and pies to send out. From there, the boxes were loaded in the back of Mitchell's truck with a few coolers packed full of drinks. We literally lost count of how many people we fed over those three days and nights. It was well into the hundreds.
Driving through all the devastation made me cry. It hurt us watching women picking articles of clothing out of trees, seeing men carrying unrecognizable pieces of houses- people's homes- to throw into piles by the street, watching children tip-toeing around broken glass and toys... It was a lot to see and too much for me to take in at once. These people had lost everything in just a scary split second.

We heard countless stories from many residents of Bertie County. Some stories were of loss and suffering, while others told of miracles and survivors. Everyone, however, was hopeful. Even in all the devastation and destruction caused by the storms, people didn't have time to cry. They were lending helping hands to those affected, and likewise, those who had lost everything but their lives still carried on.

Thanks to all the caring people of Bertie County, they will continue to do so to get past this hard time they've been handed. They will rebuild. They will stay together as a community, and continue to grow closer to those who are doing so much to ease the pain. The faith of those in Bertie County is so strong and will be their greatest strength through all of this.

The total count of those who lost their lives is 12. May God be with their families at this time of need. May their families find the strength they undoubtedly will require to simply wake up every morning to push forward.

This "vacation" was life-changing for me, and I wouldn't trade my experiences volunteering in Askewville, North Carolina for the prettiest day at the beach.

This Time of Year

I love it.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

You Can Find Me Here!

Mitchell and I will be in North Carolina for the next week, so hold the phone! I'm temporarily abandoning anything that resembles a cell phone or computer during this time, so don't fret.
I'm pretty sure we'll be returning, although it was really hard to come "home" last November when we made the trip over the mountains and through the woods.
So, no promises.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

French Toast, Thrift Store Hook Ups, & Fish Tacos

I got up early this morning and made french toast for breakfast while Mitchell was in the shower- an appreciated gesture, since we usually skip breakfast. I'm hanging out at Sambuca again until 5pm or so. He just came upstairs with a fish taco that was out of this world! If I knew I was going to be blogging about it, I would've taken a picture to share... Bummer.
After dropping him off at work at 11am, I took my paycheck to the bank and stopped by Southern Thrift on the way back downtown. I forgot how cheap their clothes are! I also forgot how much nicer they are compared to my beloved Goodwill's clothes.
I spent $30, but should've spent about $60. This is because I asked the young guy at the register if they gave student discounts, already knowing they didn't. He said, "No, but I'll hook you up," with the sliest smile on his face. Hey, I didn't ask him to "hook me up!" And likewise, I'm not going to ask him to not "hook me up!" He offered to. I'm kosher.
So for $30, I got:
  • A sexy pair of black and silver Carlos Santana 3in. heels for the wedding Saturday ( Priced at $98.95 here!)
  • A pair of black leather flip-flops
  • A "Bail Bonding" t-shirt
  • A pair of metallic sky-blue flip-flop style sandals
  • A new-with-tags bra
  • A bathing suit top
  • A strapless yellow and gray mid-thigh length dress (for the beach, duh)
  • A light blue bangle
  • And a black and silver multi string necklace to wear to the wedding, also.
I'd say that I had a fairly successful shopping trip. Also, I got another compliment on "my truck." The guys sitting outside Ace Hardware in the same shopping center as Southern Thrift asked if I wanted to trade for their Ford Ranger. I said, "Yeahhh, I don't think so!" and piped 'em. Mitchell would've been so proud of me. Oh, and that's me in his truck. We were baling hay last Summer.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

April 27th, 31 cent Scoop Night

April 27th will be spent like this: I'm going to print out a map of all the Baskin Robbins in Middle Tennessee within 50 miles of me on the 26th and draw myself a route/loop between them all. I'll empty my change jar the following morning and drive around between 5-10pm eating ice cream between stores.

Mathematical breakdown/facts:
That's 20 Baskin Robbins stores.
If I'm allowed 3 scoops per store, priced at $0.31 each, I'll spend roughly $1 at each store with tax included. That's $20 in ice cream, assuming I hit them each up only once. That's 60 scoops in one day. Calorie-wise, I'm going to consume, on average, 260 calories per scoop, or 780 calories for a 3-scooper (again, average). Now multiply that by 20 for each store I'll visit, and I'll consume a whopping 15,600 calories in 5 hours. That's almost 8 days' worth of caloric intake for one person.

Here's my route:
It's 290 miles long.
It'll take me 6 hours and 27 minutes.
Let me know if you want to tag along.
(Oh, and wear your stretchy pants.)


An Old Rant of Mine, Craigslist, Summer 2010

I work as a waitress in Sal's, a somewhat popular pizza place in Nashville, but not downtown. (No, because I'm a waitress does not mean I am lacking self-confidence. Nor does it mean I am a recent divorcee/parolee. I'm a 20 year-old girl in between college semesters who happens to be changing her major and is- in the mean time- making a living, a so-far failed attempted "killing.")

Our air conditioner has been on the fritz for the past few weeks, making working conditions almost in the section at the top of the "Unbearable Pyramid." Thank God for people like you- all of you. You make it all seemingly the worthwhile. No, not because of your tips. (But let's work on those, too. There's always room for improvement.) You, dear pizza-consuming people of Nashville, keep me entertained. This is for all of you. Enjoy.

First, to you with the family... You appear to be a fairly well educated middle-aged man. You have 3 beautiful children and an attractive-minus-the-hideous-perm wife. I noticed the boat attached to your truck. You've got money and/or time to kill on the lake on this beautiful July afternoon. Whether you realize it or not, this pizza place is a fairly small restaurant, allowing almost everything you say to be overheard. While your oldest daughter aged at maybe 11 read the menu out loud, she came across "VEE-al PAR-mess-ON," in her best Mario & Luigi voice. She asked you what it was. You pronounced it right for her, and I honestly expected you to provide her with a correct explanation of the menu item. Instead, you told her this, "It's deer meat. Remember when Uncle Charlie made that deer jerky last year? It's the same thing, only more tender. It's the same meat from before they dehydrate it. Your mom loves it, right?" And your poodle headed wife agreed. "I love deer meat, but I don't think it's good with cheese." Are you fucking kidding me?! Veal is IMMOBILIZED BABY COW. It's "tender" because in some cases, they feed the baby cow milk and only milk and break its legs so it never moves, never allowing the muscle to get firm from movement. I wanted to shout this from across the room! VENISON is deer meat, by the way. That's why people like you always order pepperoni pizzas. With a side of Ranch dressing.

Now to you, Mr. and Mrs. Older Kinky Couple. Lady, you resembled everyone's grandmother. You were giving me more compliments than I deserved, as if you were surely practicing your sweet-talk speech for someday when someone entertains the idea of sending you to a nursing home. Who would want to rid themselves of someone so sweet? Mister, your jokes were borderline sexual, but I assumed you couldn't have possibly meant it "like that." How wrong of me! I mean, asking me if I was a "sausage and meatball kind of girl" could've been referring to my preference of spaghetti sauce, but it also could've been referring to whether or not I liked male genitalia. I want to say you were in your late 60s, early 70s. I made a remark in the kitchen about how you were so friendly, that it almost seemed as if you were both flirting with me. I laughed it off as my mind being in the gutter until you left. My tip was a $5 bill, 3 quarters, and a napkin that had "You're cute. We're interested if you are. ;) ," written on it, followed by your phone number. I got your voicemail. Damn.

Now on to you girls who come in, clearly on a date. You're all the same. You dress like you came out of a Teen Magazine. Half of you either order a salad or let him order for you. You sit there and play with your hair and talk about your exes and all their faults. When he orders a Bud Light, you order one, too. We all know you don't drink beer. You are clearly a Smirnoff Ice kind of girl. When he orders a second and a third, you've still only taken 3 sips out of your first. When I ask if you'd like something else to drink, you act as if you didn't hear me or you say, "I'm still drinking this beer." Same thing when I ask if you'd like a refill on the soda you inevitably order after your 4th sip. You're rude as shit to me because the guy you're on a date with is laughing at my jokes. You wish you could open beer bottles with your elbow. Oh, and you have a trail of toilet paper on your shoe. So freakin' cuuute. Also, I hear you argue about the tip because you think, "$8 is too much! Our pizza was only $13! That's like a 50% tip! $2 is enough!" He slipped me a $10 when he held the door open for you so you could strut your pretty ass out to the car.

I always like when you come in. You're sexy, you're funny, and you're clearly a lesbian. I think you're mixed. The first time I met you, you were trying to decide what would be cheaper- buying 4 slices individually, or buying a whole small pizza. My manager tried to sell you the slices because they were already made. But you and I both knew what he was up to... It IS a business. Anyway, I'm totally interested in hanging out with you. I know you could kill me at basketball. By the way, you were rocking those navy dress pants the other day.

To the obnoxious teenagers that come in. Learn to fucking tip. Yeah, the 14 of you ordered four extra large pizzas. You all got sodas, too. I know because I'm the one who refilled all of them at least three times. Not only did I fill them multiple times, but I gave you all to-go cups so you could take them with you. Don't look at me like I'm crazy because your bill is just over $60. It comes out to under $4.50 a piece. If all of you chip in $5, it's JUST like leaving me a $6 tip. FOR ALL OF YOU. Like each one of you left me fucking $0.43. Really?! And only 3 of you leave a $5 bill and DON'T ask for your change back... Really, REALLY?! Why don't you just have one of your mothers pop something in the microwave for you? Yeah, we're probably only 2 years apart in age, but you've CLEARLY never had a job as a waitress.

And let's not forget you, my favorite customer. You come in every week, sometimes two or three times. You've confided in me that you can't cook- that you could burn cereal. Believe it or not, but you're a breath of fresh air when you come in. I always hope it's my turn to take a table. You never complain and you're always so polite. I think I could be the bitchiest person in the world to you and you'd still say, "thank you." I love people like you. Maybe you could teach a "Customer Etiquette" class sometime. We could sign all of the above customers up. 

If you fit any of these categories and you feel like I was referring to you, feel free to say hey next time you come in. You can ask me if I "do much on Craigslist" so I'll know you know I know that you know. You know? Have a great day.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

A Letter to Regen

4-10-11
Regen,

  I admire you for who you are and for what you've been through (and survived) in your life. You're always there for me, and never short of advice when I need it. I know if I'm ever in a tough situation, no matter how big or small regardless of the circumstances, that I can go to you for guidance and support. I love your witty sense of humor, your honesty, wisdom, beliefs... (And your cooking!)
   Never have I ever had an issue that I couldn't talk over with you. You are genuinely a caring person, and you are a wonderful mother. I want to be just like you when I have a family. I don't think you quite understand how much you mean to me and how greatly I value our friendship.
   When I was kicked out of my mother's home, you helped to fill that void when I had nobody to go to. You gave me confidence and hope. Hearing about your battles won inspired me and gave me the strength I needed to overcome my own struggles. You are my mentor, my role model, a sarcastic matriarchal figure in my life, and I look up to you. I just thought you should know.

I love you, Regen.


Saturday, April 9, 2011

Close & Closer

The other night, I cried on the way home from work, seemingly out of nowhere. Thinking about how much worse my wreck could've been scared the shit out of me. I was so close to dieing. Just a few more feet and I would've gone down- way down... All the way down.
Mitchell must've known what I was thinking about because he held my hand even tighter and said he loved me.
Sometimes that's all it takes for me to know that he's perfect for me. I feel closer to him now than ever, and it kind of scares me. I love that man with all of my heart. I really do. He is my best friend.
Alright, that's enough mushy talk.
How about a mushy picture instead? This is sooo old.

Friday, April 8, 2011

1 Week; 7 Days; 168 Hours

Before I say anything else: We have one week until we leave for North Carolina! Yay!
Mitchell and I had an early lunch at 11 this morning at this little restaurant inside a gas station in the middle of nowhere between our new house and Nashville. He ordered a Reuben and I got a "Scottsboro cheese steak." They were delicious.
I'm listening to Johnny Cash over Sambuca's speaker system. I'm the only one upstairs, stealing their wifi.
I've been riding downtown with Mitchell at noon since the wreck (since my vehicle is kaput) and just hanging around the general area until my shift at 6pm about a mile or so from here. I got to run some errands eariler, which meant I had to go to Home Depot to get a dozen outdoor flood lights for the restaurant. I got 2 compliments on "my truck." What is that guys love about a girl in a truck in the South?
Mitchell's making me a big salad for an early dinner before work, and I cannot wait to chow down on it. I'll be downtown tonight till 3 or 4am working, so I'd rather go ahead and eat now instead of taking a break on a Friday night.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Car Wrecks are Scary

Yesterday
          5pm
on my way to work
                     45mph in a 50mph zone
downhill
          a dozen curves between home and town
older woman
                        newer Camero
halfway in my lane
                                     hit my horn
swerved towards the ditch
                           back wheels catch gravel
begin a spin
             oncoming traffic
                                 overcorrect
jump the embankment
                           miss 3 trees
turn back towards the road
                                ride the ditch
100 scary feet
                     hit my brakes
busted nose
                     blood
bruised thighs
                          trapped
climb out the window
                             shakey
                      scared
            not alone
police are called
                         fire department arrives
ruptured gas tank
                         kitty litter to soak it up
tow truck comes
                     teary phone calls
                                       cop drives me home
                   night off work
wake up sore
                    stiff
                           sad
but not alone
                   I'm ok.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

I'm going to test myself...

It always seems that when I paint my nails, I've got them at least 80% chipped off within 2 hours of painting them.
Tomorrow morning, I'm going to paint my nails pink. Not only am I painting them, but I'm going to make a conscious effort to NOT pick at the nail polish.
I think it'd be fun to time myself to see just how long I can go without chipping it off...
I
   always
               lose
                      this
                            game.
                                                :(

Sunday, April 3, 2011

I'm Feenin' for F.O.T.C.

There was a time a while ago when I attended  MTSU when I thought the perfect way to wind down after a busy day was by watching countless shows of Flight of the Conchords...
                                                                                           I miss that show.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

My New Kitchen Project

So, I want to put peg boards on either side of our 6ft. tall metal shelf in our kitchen.
The shelf currently holds cookbooks, cool kitchen gadgets, fancy platters, and culinary family hairlooms.
It's a work in progress and is always changing around.
100% Mitchell and I.
I love it.
The plan is to spraypaint them metallic to match our shelves. You know, silver-ish.
I'm getting increasingly excited the more I think about it.

Cramming is Back!

As somewhat of a creature of habit, I've always been the classic "crammer-type." I really do work best under pressure, and almost always waited till the last minute to write papers or do projects in school. I find that if I'm taking a lot of information in at once, it sticks in my mind better because in a lot of instances, I make a string of mental connections between all the facts. I also write better if I'm pressed for time.
I'm cramming again in another aspect of my life:
Work.
I'm taking on 41 hours between 3 days this weekend.
I did 10 hours last night, putting in 17 today/tonight, and another 14 tomorrow.
This is my ultimate goal this weekend:
We'll see how well this plan pans out. 

What is Wrong with You?!

Hey, drunk lady.
Thank you for spitting your gum in my tip jar before ordering a bag of popcorn.
I understand, I understand...
You were drunk.
But did you really think I didn't see you?
On another note-
Forgive me for spitting my gum in your bag of popcorn while filling it up.
I sneezed.
Enjoy your kettle corn.