i don't watch the news.

I don't watch the news for good reason: it brings me down. I can have a wonderful day of laughing with friends, appreciating cool breezes on sunny days, reading good books... and flip to the news just to find that swine flu has come to Alabama, 30 minutes from my parents home no less, and our economy is still in a downward spiral. It takes a lot out of a person.

I'm not saying that I don't have hope for a better tomorrow... but I'll be awfully glad to see it.

Sometimes I wonder if there's ever a time when there's no bad news on TV. Do I not even notice, or is there in fact always something terrible happening?

Thank God for the promise of an eternity free of stress and bad news.

I can't believe I'm watching professional baseball.

As I'm a very supportive girlfriend, I didn't complain when Evan tuned in to the Yankees-Red Sox game around 7 tonight. Evan left at 8:30, and I'm still watching. I've never cared for baseball, especially not on TV, but now that Evan's walked me through a few basics... I might be well on my way to fandom. Not to mention, I'm becoming a fair judge of who wears their baseball pants in a satisfactory way and who doesn't. For instance, Yankee Derek Jeter wears his pants long and loose. Unsatisfactory. Brave Kelly Johnson, on the other hand, wears his socks high and his pants snug. For this very reason, I'm looking into getting a Braves t-shirt with JOHNSON across the back, like a true fan (and because Alice won't let me have Francouer).



My Thursday thru Sunday has been, in a word, superb.

Evan got here Thursday evening, and we went to dinner with Blake and then to the best experience I've had at Auburn: we, along with a couple hundred other Auburn students, went into Jordan-Hare stadium-- not the bleachers, mind you: the FIELD-- and laid out our (Blake's) sleeping bag and watched The Dark Knight in HD on the jumbotron. Did I mention the free snacks and beverages? It was incredible, lying in the warm spring night next to some of my favorite people.

Friday afternoon, Evan and I headed home, where we ate with his parents and little brother at Guntersville's premier restaurant, K.C.'s Coyote Cafe. After hours of talking and laughing over blackened salmon, fresh-baked bread, and completely unnecessary but entirely delicious blackberry cobbler, Evan and I headed back to my house to watch The Office that Mom had taped.

Saturday morning, we headed to Blount County for a visit with the Marcums and the Hays clan. I hadn't seen my mom's side of the family since Christmas, so we spent nearly all day there, telling the same stories I've heard since childhood sprinkled with a few new stories that had happened since the last time we were all together (like, the principal of my younger cousin's middle school being strangled by a student after breaking up a fight in the lunchroom). I spent most of the afternoon drinking in the fullness of this wonderful family: Daddy J, the quite patriarch who puts his God and his family above all else; Momma Em, a people-pleaser who wants nothing more than to know that her family is happy and safe; Aunt Debbie, who is as spirited as she is small and loves her family with a passion she otherwise reserves for Alabama football alone; my own mother, who is caring and thoughtful, pouring over each event so that no one's workload is too heavy and everyone can relax and enjoy each other; my younger cousin Anna-Kate, who is beautiful, artistic and athletic at the same time, with a beaming smile and a sweet heart; Uncle Linc, who is reserved and fiercely loyal to his family, especially his four beautiful children; my great aunt Connie, who is independent and loving, determined to stay connected with those she loves most. I could easily go on and on, listing every member of my family and exactly why I love them so, but I won't. I might never stop. Next, we went to my dad's parents' house. Their sprawling farm is picturesque in many ways, with a white picket fence, front porch swings, and a clover-laden pasture complete with a one-eared pony. I have so many memories at this house: making "frog caves" in the sandbox with Papaw, hayrides from the pasture to the pond where we'd fish for hours, sneaking into the kitchen with Megan for a midnight snack then giggling in the back bedroom about our successful mission through the creaking kitchen, and even recently bringing college friends home to enjoy the simple pleasure of life in the country. It's interesting to be this age... I remember how invincible and immortal my granddad seemed when I was young, and now he seems so frail to me, his breath sometimes labored and his hair growing thinner. But this aging man is incredible still in his own right. In April of last year, he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and told he wouldn't live to see August. Now, one year later, he still rides his tractor on good days and has recently acquired an electric wheelchair to get him to and from his garden.
Today, we went to church, where Scoggins spoke the Word over us with an understanding and clarity that never ceases to amaze me. Afterward, Evan and I went to Zaxby's for lunch and then straight to the pool. I spent hours reading and slipping in and out of sleep until my stomach started hinting that it was just about dinner time. We went to Johnny Brusco's, the pizza place where we had our first date so many months ago. After dinner, we came back to my place and Evan quickly navigated the television to ESPN, where we started watching the game at Fenway Park. Which catches me up to the present.

On tap for this week: one twenty-minute presentation, three days of class, three hours of undergraduate research, and one final on Friday. I think I can, I think I can...

*I typed this blog twice.

List-making.

Things that make me all kinds of happy:

• Watching Kris Allen and Adam Lambert rock my face off on American Idol.
• Eating Chicken Salad Chick with Blake-- Buffalo Barkley and one new scoop everytime.
• Planning summer vacays: Disney World? Carribean Cruise? Do I want a picture with Mickey or a tan and and Elton John piano bar?
• Downtown adventures with Mal on Friday afternoons.
• Speaking of, Toomer's lemonade with vanilla. Thanks for that.
• Going through old pictures.
• Knowing that even though I may not ever win an Oscar or be on the cover of a fashion magazine or in a history book, the Creator of the universe knows me by name and calls me His own.
• Feeling like slowly but surely I'm being integrated into a new family, new siblings included.
• Marcum family gatherings: same stories every time. Never gets old.
• Watching hours upon hours of House on DVD, even when Evan would really rather watch Scrubs.
• Casting celebrities to play my friends in my imaginary movie.
• Frasier re-runs.
• The feeling I get after I've turned in a huge assignment.
• The fact that I have only one class left in my undergraduate career, with the exception of an internship.
• Watching one of my nearest and dearest be all smittened with a new love interest.
• Thinking about being Lauren's maid-of-honor on the most important day of her life.
• Watching my parents flirt with each other, after 28 years of wedded bliss. Can we all be so lucky?
• Bubble baths.
• Fresh-out-of-the-dryer clean sheets.
• When my room is clean. Like, really clean. Dusted, vacuumed, organized.
• Harry Potter movie in July.
• Bookstores. Why can't I have my very own bookstore?
• The Advertiser-Gleam.
• Going out on the lake.
• Theme parks.

Okay, I'm going to stop. But know this: I could easily keep going.

Heavy stuff.

I'm sitting at a bakery/coffee shop downtown, supposedly working on a mega-huge paper that I have coming up. Luckily, Malorie and I are tag-teaming the assignment (not that we're doing the same paper so much as we're keeping each other accountable for actually putting work into it), or else Sunday night I'd be hunched down in the living floor, papers sprawled around me, working frantically.

So, I'm in this coffee shop... and a man walks in. Late sixties, probably, with one of the deepest voices I've ever heard. His hair is frazzled in a very crazy-old-professor manner, and under his Members Only windbreaker he's sporting a dress shirt and tie. He orders his coffee, today's special, and goes on to talk to the little barista who seems to know him well. He talks about his life and times at Auburn, how he knew the people that buildings are now named after, how the barista's jewelry (a fleur-de-lis) is also a symbol of the Boy Scouts of America, his ever-changing relationship with God including the Catholic study Bible he keeps by his bed... anything that came to his mind, he shared. The barista was incredibly kind and patient, complimenting his wealth of knowledge, never patronizing him or giving impatient nods. But it was terrifying and heartbreaking to me. He seemed lonely, befriending a college girl at a local bakery.

Lately, the idea of getting old... of dying... scares me to death. And for no reason, because I know in Whom I have believed, and I know that life everlasting is mine. And yet, lately I'm plagued with a thousand "What if's?" What if the end is just that: the end...? What if for a moment in time I'm stuck in some sort of limbo between life and death? What if it's painful? What if I'm wrong? And in my heart of hearts, I know. I know I'm not wrong. I know that my Savior lives and has redeemed me from the death that I deserve. But sometimes doubt gets ahold of my spirit, and I can hardly breathe.

I think it's just this time of the year, when I'm feeling so suffocated by schoolwork. I don't have time to sit down with God, and my life is so noisy I can't hear His voice through all the chaos.

This is not where I thought I'd be when I started typing this post. This man, this poor coffee shop man, just made me so sad. The thought of being so lonely rocks me to the core.

No worries, though. I just purchased an extra large slice of blackberry jam cake, and my soul is about to soar.

Tiramisu.

Tonight I'm going to Toomer's to study/work/laugh/text with Malorie. Here's what I've been thinking about all day: the tiramisu I saw in the dessert case on my way out of Toomer's last week. If they don't have any left, I'll just die. That's right: die.

On another note, I love Gilmore Girls. I'm glad I didn't watch it with Lauren in high school because then my weekday afternoons now would be far less interesting.

Today I feel overwhelmed. Completely, utterly overwhelmed. It just suddenly hit me in class this morning: two twenty minute presentations, one ten-page paper, one exam, 18 hours of undergraduate research, and finals. All in the next three weeks. And it doesn't help that it won't stop raining! A little sunshine would increase my rate of productivity ten-fold, I feel certain.

After seeing the new AT&T commercials featuring the very attractive creator of the Toms shoeline, I've decided I may need to invest in a pair.

With that said, my battery is dying. Adios.

unwrapped.

The title isn't an introduction to a particularly revealing blog. I'm just, in fact, watching Unwrapped on the Food Network. I really, really, really wish I was a great cook. I mean, I can throw together a recipe given the right utensils... but I wish I could just whip things up, like Evan's Granny who is evidently the authority on all things edible. Rarely do you sit down to a meal with Evan where he doesn't see something on the menu that his Granny makes better than anyone around. I've eaten her food: the man speaks the truth. And what I like best about Granny's cooking: lots and lots of salt. But where there is lots of salt, there are lots of other spices, and Granny can spice things up in a hurry. Not to discredit my own grandmother's cooking. She, too, is quite the chef. Her specialties are chicken and dumplings, macaroni and cheese, green bean casserole, and she always has a new kind of punch. Her love of new recipes goes beyond punch though. Aside from the afore mentioned staples, Momma Em almost never cooks the same dish twice. Every holiday is a trial run for a new dish straight from the pages of Southern Living magazine and the like. Some are hugely successful... others... well, some stones are better left unturned.

I think shows like Unwrapped are fascinating. The machines are incredible, and it's just really interesting to see a product from raw to grocery store. I also always really liked the episodes of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood where the picture on the wall turned into a TV screen and you were suddenly inside a factory learning how crayons were made and the like. Fascinating stuff. Have you watched an episode of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood since you were older than 10? Those little puppets are the stuff nightmares are made of.

Unwrapped is currently unveiling Rainforest Cafe. True Story: Rainforest Cafe is my favorite chain restaurant. Ever. I love it. No matter where I am and what restaurants a guide book says I SHOULD go to, if there's a Rainforest Cafe nearby, I will choose it EVERY time.

Furthermore, I am NOT okay with this weather. Freeze warnings in April? I think not. Don't get me wrong: I am not looking forward to 98 degree-soaking-wet-by-the-time-you-get-to-your-car weather. I'd just really like to have a nice spring... sunshine and breezes, you know the stuff.

Tonight I was productive, and I'm always surprised at what an accomplished feeling I would get. I'm surprised because you would think that I don't ever get anything done. I mean, I call my mom just to tell her how good I feel about myself. I likely make my Facebook status something pertaining to my success. I wrote one paper and wrote the most critical part of another (the part where I decide what I'm writing about. Can't go anywhere without that). Not to mention, I managed to send approximately 100 text messages in the meantime.

Did you know White Castle was America's first fast food restaurant? Neither did I. Thanks, Unwrapped.

I've procrastinated long enough. Time to top off my productive evening with a little light reading in the form of a 30-something page research article about sleep and its functions. Go on: envy me.

is this my swan song?

It's been a good weekend. I needed a good weekend: I had a rough week, as evidenced by my pathetic little bloggings.

But I've started wondering... is my time here really coming to close? and what will that feel like when it's truly said and done? (something about watching Sex and the City makes me put questions in my blog... I've always seen myself as something of a Carrie... but who doesn't?)

For any of you who don't know, I'm headed to Tuscaloosa in the fall. (Mal, I just realized this is a rip off of your blog, which is particularly sad because Auburn ---> Tuscaloosa is FAR less dramatic than Auburn --> HK). Really, I am psyched about it. No more late weekend nights driving to and fro from Tuscaloosa to Auburn, all in the pursuit of love. No more hating Saturday just because it's one day closer to Sunday, and Sunday means a goodbye that never gets easier. Finally, a relationship that seems normal. But in exchange... Goodbye, Auburn, the university that has felt like home since the first time I stepped onto its glorious campus. A worthy and unavoidable exchange... I mean, everyone graduates and moves on eventually, right? But here it is, staring me down: my swan song. My final acts at Auburn University. My final sorority formal. My final limeades and ocean waters with Trey. My final months living with Erica (and Justin). My final Idol-viewings with Blake. My final rook games with the boys. My final downtown adventures with Malorie. My final parking lot chats with KB. And so on...

I just hope to find happiness outside of Evan in Tuscaloosa. My fear is that we'll be "that" couple... only hanging out with each other: laying on the couch every night, watching bad TV and eating take-out Chinese. At face value, that sounds adorable and perfect to me. Comfortable and relaxed. But what happens when we need something outside of ourselves? I learned the hard way that you can't base your happiness in one person. And with Evan... it's so easy. He understands my heart in a way that I can't express, and it's so appealing to lock myself in with him.

Okay. Disclaimer: I'm talking to a very old friend via IM about past relationships and broken hearts.

And now, my attention is elsewhere. Goodnight.