Memorial Day

Today I took a spontaneous trip to the Bluegrass Memorial Gardens.  Here are some of the pictures I took on this beautiful Memorial Day weekend!

                                                               They're so fluffy!!!!!

 And of course I had to leave a little something on the grave of one of my favorite people to ever grace this earth, thereby fulfilling the decorative aspect of this holiday which was originally referred to as Decoration Day.  Her grave was already adorned with an American flag and many flowers, so I decided to add a little piece of me.  It is a little orange diamond trinket, of which I have many.  Some I keep in my car, others around my house. They serve no other purpose than that they are pretty and I like them.  But Evalee was a collector, and I know that she would have stopped and picked one up if she saw it glistening in the sun.  So I left it for her to find and to let her know that her memory lives on.  For when you meet someone whose soul is so identical to your own, you have no choice but to never forget your time with them. 

Happy Memorial Day
-L

I'M NOT Graduating!!!!

I really want to write a good quality post here, but my mind is so frazzled that I'm afraid I'll have to keep it plain and simple. And what's more plain and simply than a bullet-ed list! ;)

• Nine days ago I had every intention of graduating in May with my degree in Secondary Social Studies Education.  I knew I did not want to teach, at all, not even a little.  What I didn't know was what I wanted to do instead.  I was starting to get nervous and was feeling really down in dumps.  
• Then I got back a paper from my favorite history class this semester, and on the last page my professor had written the most amazing feedback I have ever received on a paper.  EVER.  This gets my mind racing...
• Could it be that I've finally found my thing?  Something I really like and perhaps am even decent at?
• Then I go back to that class.  As usual there are a handful of people who do all of the talking.  Loud, frequent, opinionated talking.  These guys know their stuff.  Then that old familiar thought creeps in.... they're smarter than me.  I'm not that smart.  My paper was a fluke, she must have just graded them really easily.
• But I can't get her comments out of my head.  And I finally decide that I am smart.  (Has anyone read/seen The Help?  Well there is this part where Skeeter's mom who has cancer tells her, "I have decided that I am not going to die."  This is what it felt like to me, in my head. I have decided that I smart.)
• Anyway, I begin looking into adding a history major and it seems doable. Blah blah blah.
• Today- I did it.  
• I have decided to delay my graduation date to next May so that I can graduate with a double major.  
• So after I finalized this with my adviser, I'm feeling pretty good about life, so I do something that I would typically avoid.  I go to aforementioned professors office hours.  I give her my thanks and in return she gives me the most phenomenal words I HAVE EVER HEARD IT MY LIFE. (Warning: I tend toward hyperbole.)  She tells me that my paper received the highest grade in my class.  WWWWHHHHHAAAAAATTTTTTT.  So being the graceful conversationalist that I am I blush violently and stammer a few more thank yous and try my hardest to look her in the eyes and smile. 
• I did better than the loud kids.  Better than the kids who took APUSH and seem to know everything about anything and then some.  
• Yay.
• History.
• Books.
• :)
• And if you're sitting there thinking "WELL WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH A HISTORY DEGREE." Please click that little red "x" in the corner and permanently remove yourself from my life.  Because it's due to people like you that I'm in this conundrum in the first place.  I was so damned afraid of doing what I wanted to do that I went along with what people like you said.  It's because of YOU that I still struggle with feeling smart and adequate.  And guess what- I REFUSE to be miserable, and I REFUSE to pursue a career just because it's a sure thing.  Call be stupid if you want, but I call myself BRAVE.  (Insert Defying Gravity lyrics here.) 
• And if you are reading this and you are still in high-school or just starting college here is my advise to you- listen to yourself, and I mean really listen.  Don't decide on a major too early and if something starts to feel wrong, ask yourself why.  Do not seek the advice of people who you do not really know or care about.  They will be more than willing to give you their opinion, do not allow them such pleasure.  You and you alone have to live with your decisions.
• And to everyone out there remember this...
  

 Can I get an amen?
-L

A Red Leaf, a Bad Day, and a Dance Class

     I can remember sitting in the passenger seat of my mom's car one glum afternoon and thinking to myself for the first time, Today was a bad day.  I started to replay the days events over in my head, getting gloomier and gloomier by the minute.  Soon enough we arrived at our destination, my Grandma's house. (Because I can't help but to mention her in every blog. She's that awesome.) As I descend towards the front door, something red catchers my eye in the green of the grass.  It's just a leaf, that happens to be red, but it stops me in my tracks.  It's the first red leaf of the year, and I have to show my Grandma. I pick it up and as I do I drop all of the gloom that has been following me around all day.  As I race towards the front door now, leaf in hand, a fleeting thought crosses my mind... Maybe today isn't so bad after all.  

    I'm a lot older now but this week I had what by 7 a.m. in the morning I had already deemed, "A Bad Day."  I was awoken in the middle of the night by a pesky nosebleed, I couldn't find a parking spot at school, everyone was getting on my nerves.. ya know just one of those days.  By the time I was on my way to the dance studio, I was done.  I had lost my voice.  Teaching a dance class was going to be rough.  Or so I thought.  It's turns out my group of twelve Kindergartner's had other plans.  Instead of me teaching them, they ended up teaching me a thing or to.

   Upon entering the dance room I noticed that about half of the class was already in the room, sitting patiently criss-cross applesauce on the floor. I joined them, unprepared for what the next hour would entail.  Shall we call it a series of mood altering events?  Let's make a list:

 "J" enters the room, presenting me with a bouquet of beautiful wildflowers that she has picked for me from her farm.

  She drew me a picture too.

   "M" cuddles up right next to me and tells me she has a secret, and whispers in my ear "You are my favorite dance teacher ever!"

  "JC" enters the room, tackles me with a bear hug, kisses me on the cheek, tells me she loves me... and I think she may have even asked me to marry her somewhere in between...

At this point I take a deep breath and in my whisper voice explain my situation to them...

  "K" looks at me quizzically, hits her palm against her forehead and shakes her head.  I laugh. 

  I ask them what Disney princess this reminds them of, and they all know the answer. 

We start class.

 I lead them in warm-up.  They follow. 

 I point to the left side of the room, they go line up to go across the floor.

  I do the beginning step of their ballet dance, they rush to their beginning spots.

 The "big kids" class comes over, they show them our dance. They clap for us enthusiastically. 

. The other classes teacher looks impressed and says to me, "They did changements!  They're too little!" 

  I motion over to their dance bags, they quickly put on their tap shoes.

 Etc, etc, etc.

As I left I thought to myself, They were so good today!  But that was a lie, because that's how they are every class.  Each class I am bombarded with smiles, giggles, hugs, and yes sometimes even marriage proposals.  They remind me of a lesson that I learned a long time ago.  There are no bad days.  There may be bad moods or bad moments, but when you least expect it you just might catch a glimpse of that little red leaf that turns your day around.

 -L
I wish you all a happy Fall!  May we all dance in many piles of crunchy leaves!!!  :)  






   

The Inclination to Run

I've always had it in me to run.  And not in the 40 yard dash kind of way.  Whether I was watching Runaway Bride or listening to Wide Open Spaces I was always fascinated with getting away.  Away from all of those people who just wouldn't stop.  Who always had a comment, because apparently nothing I did ever warranted a simple smile in acceptance.  When I was in the fourth grade I found my first escape.  My cousin was over, and I had simply had enough. I asked her to just leave me alone.  She refused.  I locked myself in my Grandmothers guest bathroom, and got lost in a book called Lily's Crossing.  She knocked, yelled, and slipped notes under the door.  But I didn't respond, because I wasn't there.  I was on the South Carolina shore, helping Lily solve a mystery.  In middle school I found my need to be somewhere else constant.  In the seventh grade I read Wicked, five times.  I carried it with me to every class in a gallon sized zip lock baggy, to keep it free from pencil marks.  In Oz, it didn't matter that I never understood my math homework or that today my best friend decided she didn't want to me my friend anymore.  There no one could tell me that I had a bad attitude or that I didn't try hard enough or that I'd never amount to anything special.  Looking back I know that the only way I made it through was because I knew how to run. Recently I heard a story about a man who dropped out of college because he couldn't find a parking spot one day.  I couldn't help but think that sounded like something I would do.  There comes a point when you just can't take it anymore and you have to get out.  Most people are taught that running is bad.  You hear that nothing good comes from leaving your problems in the dust.  Those people are wrong.  It's a way to survive. Forgetting is the hardest thing in the world to do.  But I know how. If I had to pick my favorite book, I would chose The Secret Garden.  It's the story of a miserable little child.  She has a bad attitude, she doesn't try hard enough, and it just so happens that she turns out to be extraordinary. She finds a place that she calls her own, where she can go to escape.  Eventually she shares her secret world with a few special people, and they find that they enjoy the escape too.

Would you like to run away with me?

Cemetery Trip

Every now and then the fam and I like to hop in the car and venture around Lexington.  Today we found ourselves at Lexington Cemetery, then across the street at Calvary Cemetery, and finally at Bluegrass Memorial Gardens.  Here are some of my favorite pictures I managed to snap.

I hope you had a beautiful Sunday and I thank you, whoever you are for taking a moment to look at my blog! :)

Fish Aren't For Everyone

     Once upon a time, I was seven years old.  I wanted a fish.  The thing is, I don't like fish, they are gross.  My mama told me I wouldn't like a fish, and that I would kill it.  But then when I won one at the fair, I was so ecstatic that she just had to let me keep it.  And keep it I did.  For twelve minutes.  When I got home I put the fish in a plastic cup and filled it with water.  But the water was cold, and fish can't wear sweaters- so I decided to warm him up in the microwave.  Poor fish didn't last ten seconds in there.  So he died, and the smell of fish sticks filled the house.  I hate fish sticks. 


*I found this on a sheet of lime green paper stuffed in between two folders in the back of my closet.  I think I wrote it sometime in middle school.  I mean, I think I'm pretty freakin' hilarious. And no it's not a true story.  But yes, I do hate fish sticks. 

Lucille Writes

Last night while going through a box of old things I came across some notes handwritten by my Great Aunt Lucille.  Many of them are poems or small blurbs, some are funny, and almost all of them are pretty darn insightful.  I'm guessing they are things she came across in magazines or the newspaper, but who knows- maybe she wrote some of them herself.  I thought I might share some every now and then. 

This first one was written on Sunday March 22, 1981 and is titled, "Rain." 

Into each life some rain must fall

by poets we are told

That's why they make umbrellas for

the young and for the old

The fact that you are young in years

Is not a certain sign

That you'll escape the heartbreaks or

your world will always rhyme

For God somehow sees to it all that

we all will have our share

And somehow on this road of life

we'll have a cross to bear

Some folks are glad to carry it

they always wear a smile

While others make an awful fuss

and providence defile

So why not learn this simple prayer

And say, "Thy will be done"

Then you'll not need a raincoat when

your rainy seasons come

I say we all try to be the type of people who always wear a smile, because really what bad can come from it?   I thank Lucille for writing this and the others down, and I thank my Great Uncle Jimmy for finding them, taking the time to read them, and passing them over to me.  

And to those who are reading this, as Lucille always says...  "Luli loves ya!"  And Lauren loves you too.  :)