finally

"right now in time is a moment when we're all a little bit confused about how brilliant we are and how technologically advanced we are and that is fighting with what once made our countries great which is family, community, being together, and something honestly as simple as putting a few ingredients and sitting your family around a table and breaking bread...and if you think that's not important, than shame on you." -jamie oliver

i cannot get enough of this guy. there are a few (ok, many) things in life that i'm passionate about and it just so happens that food, healthy living, and boys with british accents rank high on that list. i believe in everything jamie oliver is doing right now. watch his new show here, check out his ted talk, and gush over his yummy recipes and beautiful photography here. i'm not typically the "revolutionary" type...but in this case, sign me up!!! 

Lost Wayfarers: A Saga

Despite the television gold of Glee and Lost that took place last night, yesterday was borderline terrible.

I left my Wayfarers* on a seemingly safe counter in an office on campus, and when I came by they were gone. Clearly, I took everything off the counter, looked under all the chairs, in all the drawers, emptied by backpack TWICE. No Wayfarers.

Now, I am the first to admit that I am abnormally bad at finding things when I lose them. So much so, that when I don't live with Meagan anymore (RIP), I don't know how I'm going to function because she always helps me find my lost items. BUT, I did some serious hunting for the sunglasses this time, and they were not there.

So I dragged my feet home, squinting and thinking of how my my retinas were being damaged by the blinding Alabama sun. Then I moped.

Scene change. Fast forward to this morning.

After playing a few games of tennis around 10:00 (burning retinas) I went to check my cell phone. I have one missed call from roommate Monica and one text from roommate Monica that says, "911." I immediately call her back. No answer. Text her, "are you ok?" No answer. Call again. No answer. Call Meagan, who hasn't heard anything. She texts Monica. No answer.

So, obviously, I'm thinking that someone came into our house and Monica locked herself in a room and called me. But since I didn't answer, the intruder busted down the door and killed her, so I start booking it home and mentally preparing myself for a crime scene.

Monica calls me back 10ish minutes post-panic to tell me that someone found my Wayfarers.

It's a spring miracle, really. 911: merited. If lost Wayfarers aren't an emergency, I don't know what is.

*Did you know that wayfarer actually means someone who travels by foot? Interesting, because the past few days I have been plagued by severe shin splints (I'm becoming such an athlete) and I don't want to do anything on foot, but that is neither here nor there.

the much anticipated weekend

I'm off to the lake in north Georgia tomorrow with some fabulous girls for the weekend! After almost pulling an all-nighter last night to finish a story (we all know I care too much about sleeping to legitimately stay up all night), I am already day dreaming of laying on a dock, eating some barbecue and drinking some summer brews. Tis the season!

Plus, I checked out a book from the library today called "We Didn't Have Much, But We Sure Had Plenty: Stories of Rural Women," and I can't wait to read it.

There is simply nothing that sounds more appealing to me right now than a weekend spent with a few girls who I will soon no longer be city-neighbors of. With only four weeks until I pack my bags, I've been feeling especially sentimental the past few days. There are so few days left, and I can't help but take notice of each one as it comes and goes. I am trying to soak up every last drop of Auburn, noticing the knick-knackery details of my house, how bright my backyard looks from the kitchen in the mornings as the sun shines in the windows just so, the ribbons that tie back the curtains in the living room, and just how big those roots of the oak tree are in the front yard.

Something about moving attunes me to the details, and I'm finding myself overwhelmed by how many of them there are to be noticed.

magic

Twinkle lights ABOVE A BED,

...as if one needs another use for them. If I had the resources (unlimited twinkle lights) I'd hang them over every surface in my house and every surface in my friends' houses, and the grocery store and all my favorite restaurants and the bank so that I would continually be living my life under twinkle lights. They just make everything more magical, don't they? And who doesn't want more magic in their lives. Exactly why I've GOT to go to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios. REAL magic.

Other truly magical news -- Megs is away helping with a photoshoot for the next couple of days, so be looking forward to some potential documentation!

Also, I am taking a collegiate learning assessment test tonight so that Auburn knows how much we students are or are not learning. I don't really know, but I'm getting paid $75 dollars to do it. I heard it was like the SAT, which is obviously terrible, but hey, $75 dollars is $75 dollars, right? Magic.

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Photo from Going Home to Roost

Check out this blog! It's cute as pie. Writer Bonnie said, "over the last seven years, i've become a knitter, a gardener, a candle maker, a cook, a jewelry designer, a wife, an illustrator, a yoga instructor, a blogger and a keeper of chickens." How much fun do all those things sound?

nice try, april fooler

This ad went up on craig's list yesterday, April Fools' Day. A pretty good idea, EXCEPT. I did the same thing to the culprit last year with a free authentic wolf costume, posted in Atlanta which solicited a LOT of late-night phone calls from the kind of people who want authentic wolf costumes.

I have gotten one, very tame text that said, "Is the muff still available? heart, ERICA"

Sorry, April Fooler. Unoriginal and unsuccessful.

The Secret Life of M. Gibson

You are about to know Meagan on a whole new level.

Last night she admitted that she used to wear long denim skirts in high school.

But not for modesty. Sooo, Maybe like this?

I dont know, she said she got them from Old Navy.

Holly: So, like, what grades of high school? 9th?

Meagan: Yeah, probably 9th or 10th grade. Actually, I don't know. It may have been later...

senior project, you are not worth this.

this is the 3rd night that the studio has held me prisoner wayyyy past my bedtime. how i long for that unmade bed and my heated blanket. one day i will sleep again. until then, i'll keep taking pictures of myself pretending to be asleep-illtakewhaticanget.