A little art, a little thinking

I've mentioned before that Demetri Martin is one of my favorite comedians. Every day he posts a new drawing -- with the clever hashatag of demetrimARTin -- via Twitter. This one made me laugh and then, as usual, think too much.



Demetri Martin on WhoSay

I have an idea for a novel I've been toying with for a few years. (The toying done primarily in my head as I only have a few paragraphs on paper.) But it involves a woman about to die who is given the option of reviewing the events of her life before she goes. (The higher power that gives her this option has yet to be determined.) She can't change anything, but it allows her to view her life as a whole instead of in pieces, and to gain some closure and understanding before she goes. (And then I don't know what happens. Or why.)

But this drawing made me think of that. I like the idea of seeing a life laid out like a railroad track with events represented through crooked lines, hash marks, curves, skid marks, bold strokes, and even confusing figure eights. This abrupt stop and blank space is where you quit that job and stumbled a bit. This wobbly, faint line is where you dated that boy and he broke your heart. That long unbroken bold line is where you were blissfully happy.

I have no idea what my line would look like. But, not suprrising, there would definitely be a fair amount of "where she kind of freaked out" figure eights.

I don't want normal. I want you.

These are maybe the two most beautiful sentences in the history of the world. When I get married, if my intended doesn't include these in his vows, I will walk out.

Does this make me not normal? YES! Because I am so not normal.

And thank you, Nordstrom dressing room*, for recognizing that.


*Yeah, I thought it was a little weird, too, that the mirror had words on it. But I'm not complaining.

Fountain Friday

Bynum Circle Fountain

University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

As we rapidly approach the five year anniversary of my college graduation, I can't not feature this fountain. The only fountain, at least while I was a student, on campus.

On the Friday before graduation my three best friends and I set off on a quest to have a perfect day. We climbed the Bell Tower, got lunch from Franklin Street and ate it on McCorkle Place, signed our initials on a bench, posed for photos at the Old Well, sat on the Davie Poplar bench -- gasp -- alone, and danced in Bynum Fountain. Or, rather, we each stepped in just over the ledge, took a photo, and then got back out. And then Brandie and I decided to run through it, in white tank tops. We got chlorine up our noses and in our eyes and I slammed my knee on the brick, leaving me with a massive bruise for graduation.

And tt's still one of the most perfect days of my life.

A Royal (Wedding) Viewing

There are very few things in life for which I am willing to rise before the sun. No, actually, willing isn't the correct word. Rewind: There are very few things in life for which I will begrudgingly, crankily, and groggily rise before the sun.

A Royal Wedding, however, is most certainly one of those things. Especially when it can be done in my pajamas, with my Mom, in my apartment, with British goodies, homemade muffins, and mimosas.

Now, I am not a romantic person. I am far too rational and think entirely too much to ever really get swept away by something. (Exceptions: U2, The Notebook, Bell Bottom Blues, Crazy Love, and Leslie and Ben on Parks and Recreation.)

But when those boys (Princes) drove out of the Palace so grown up in their uniforms. Or when Diane Sawyer announced upon Kate arriving at the Abbey that "her Prince was waiting." Well, my heart melted a little bit. There is just so much awful in the world. and to take a few hours, or even a whole day, to stop and celebrate the love of two people, even strangers, is just refreshing. 

In preparation and celebration of the event I decided to channel my inner-Martha and decorate my apartment a bit. I got free printables from here and went to town. Starting with a pennant banner or four:

These were so simple to make I may start making a new one every week. But for now, these are still up.

Next are the British flags adorning my TV. (With a random shot of NPH.) I took it at this weird angle to show what rampant Anglophiles the roomie and I are every day: The photo of St. Paul's and the Big Ben statue are there all the time. (Though I already had the flags, they aren't there all the time.)

Then with the help of some paper bits from World Market, bamboo skewers, and more printables, I made a few arrangements.

And this was the spread for the morning.

First tier: Some of my favorite British goodies from World Market: Cadbury biscuit fingers, McVitties Digestives, and Walker's Shortbread.

Second tier: Mom made Nigella's British strawberry cream muffins. They were excellent.



If you're going to have to be up at 5 a.m., there might as well be a little alcohol involved.



The ONLY pieces of wedding-related paraphernalia I have purchased. (So far.) And they're from Etsy, so I don't even feel remotely dorky about these lovely mugs.

And those were our surroundings for the wedding. And the early start and general malaise of the day as a result was well worth it.

As for why I love the Royals: I just do. From loving William as a kid, to admiring the presence and grace of Diana, to the stubborn strength of Queen Elizabeth, I find them quite riveting. A lot of people don't get the monarchy, think it's archaic and unnecessary. I kind of view them as harmless. They aren't going around beheading people, causing wars, or declaring themselves appointed by God anymore, so they don't really bother me. I lived in England and barely remember ever talking about them with anyone. (But I'm not claiming to speak for even 1/10th of a British person.) With their history, pageantry, and very existence so foreign to America, I just find it all fascinating. 

And also, I love the tiaras.

I swear I'm not a wino

Technically, I'm a middle child, not a middle sister. But there was no way I was not going to buy a wine that:

• Has such a cute name
• Is called DRAMA QUEEN
• Has such a chic lady on the label
• Is called DRAMA QUEEN

And yes, it lived up to its name. Perhaps because I didn't eat a lot yesterday, but I was feeling rather DRAMATIC after a glass. Or two.

Royal Wedding Prep

I'll do a proper write-up after the event, including why I love the Royals as I do, but for now, a preview of what my surroundings will be for that (ungodly early) hour tomorrow morning.

Long time, no write

Well, hello there, three people who still read this. It's been awhile. And here's why:

• A day after writing this homesick-riddled post, the work trip that was keeping me from heading South was cancelled, and a trip home was booked within 10 minutes.
• But the day after booking the trip, I slept 0 hours and developed a cough. I made it to work only to be practically forcefully removed from the building by my officemates because I "looked like shit."
• I was able to rally enough to head home that Friday and spend a glorious 36 hours in the Old North State, soaking up some much-needed family time.
• A day after I got back, still in possession of my Kathleen Turner-esque husky/phlegmy voice and a cough, I also contracted pink eye.
• Yes, pink eye, for the first time in my 27 years. I looked part Terminator and part Black Swan and spent three days in my apartment with my contact limited to a doctor's visit and many visits to CVS.
• Wine and sleep helped alleviate the last vestiges of The Plague and I spent the bulk of the weekend happily in bed watching movies.
• Which was good as the next week was consumed by work to such a degree that I didn't have time to cry, hyperventilate, or drink. Just work.
• The weekend was busy with book club, a movie (Water for Elephants), bottomless mimosa brunch with Brandie, shopping for B, an epic nap, shopping for me on Sunday, and a play. Whew.
• And now we are to this week. Which started off rough as well and has been up and down but manageable. 
• But it's all second tier next to the happenings of this weekend, which starts around 6 p.m. tomorrow when my MOM comes into town! We have grand Royal Wedding watching plans and then general D.C. shenanigans.

It 42% kills me that these bullets are not parallel. But that's a worry for another day.

Blossompalooza '11

The first two years I did the Cherry Blossom thing I went after work on gray days. But I beat the crowds. Last year I skipped it and thus was determined to go this year on a blue-skied day. (Because, as we all know, Carolina blue makes everything better.)

So I went on Sunday afternoon around noon on a 60 degree day after a week of 30 and 40 degree days. 

And it was hell. So. Many. People. So. Many. Tourists.

But also...So. Many. Petals.

And, just as I suspected, the Carolina blue sky did make everything better. Not really any new commentary to add that I didn't already do in the other posts. So just enjoy a few of my pictures; the rest are on my Flickr.

I know that last one is blurry but I think it makes it look like a painting. Completely intentional, of course.

Six years ago

I can tell you exactly where I was six years ago tonite. (As can 95% of the people who read my blog.) I still can't adequately describe the range of emotions on that day except to say it was one of the best days of my life. For many reasons. 

Things I remember most:

• Watching it at BSU, the organization I was a part of for 4 years.
• Spending halftime trying to get a cell phone signal to call home. And once I made it through, having my brother freak out because I had not called during halftime for the other games and I was jinxing it.
• Knowing the game was ours when Sean May got the rebound and everyone around me started jumping up and down. And I got elbowed in the eye but it was totally ok.
• Walking to Franklin with Jan as we kept skipping, squealing, and saying, "I'm just so happy! I'm just so happy!"
• Running into my former roomie and friend, Ashley, amidst the 55,000 other people.
• Getting back to my room and IMing one of my best high school friends, which basically just consisted of me typing "AHHHH!!!!!"
• Feeling invincible.

There is more but I'll end it here for now. And bid adieu to college basketball-related posts until October. Probably.

*I know the time stamp says April 5, but I never could fix it on that camera, my last non-digital camera. Which  ate many of my pictures from this night and the coming home ceremony. Of course, I can't get the date right on my current digital camera either. But at least it doesn't eat my precious memories.

Gotta wanta needa havea Bojangles

Saturday was a day in the making for almost a year now. Ever since the first report that Bojangles was coming to DC. Actual DC, not a suburb. 

Bojangles. In my current place of residence. Accessible via metro anytime I need it. 

Bojangles. Too many people up here have never heard the word without a "Mr." in front of it. 

Bojangles. The North Carolina institution making home feel just a tiny bit closer. A home that, at least in this case, is made of seasoned fries, spicy chicken, biscuits, and sweet tea.

Our little piece of the South finally opened in this not-North, not-South city on Thursday. And on Saturday two Carolina girls planned their day around a visit to Union Station to partake of those famous chicken 'n biscuits. And it was just as good as we knew it would be. (Though, the fries could have used a bit more seasoning.)

The sign as we waited in the long line. A line that was never shorter than 10 people the hour we were there.

Getting closer! The counter and the menu. And a menu, by the way, that does not include my beloved cinnamon biscuits. I will be writing a letter.

Is there anything more lovely than the iconic yellow box filled with a four-piece chicken supreme meal, seasoned fries, and a biscuit? (Hint: No.)

Brandie enjoying her chicken.

Just a little bit excited. So excited, in fact, that I actually ordered the sweet tea. Even though I don't really like sweet tea. But it just seemed like the right thing to do.

I haven't been home since Christmas and last week was long and exhausting. And at one point I decided hush puppies were needed. Needed badly. But they aren't easy to come by up here so I tried to put them out of my mind. Then on Friday night I went to dinner with some friends and we ended up at a restaurant with hush puppies. In fact, they checked the menu before we even put our names on the list. So I got my hush puppies -- even though they were onion batter based -- and I felt better. 

Until Saturday when I just wanted to go home. But I have a busy month ahead of me and as much as I want to say screw it and just book a ticket South, it's not possible. So instead it was a Bojangles lunch with a best friend and things were ok again. 

Like a smell or a song, food evokes certain memories and feelings. And whether it's hush puppies or Bojangles, wedding soup or potato pancakes, I associate certain foods with my life, with my home. They have the power to take me back, even if it's just in my head, and make things better.   

Plus, it's just really, really good food.