There's Something Strange Going on Around Here

When I first moved out of my home in Slapout, AL over to Tuscaloosa, AL I made the statement, "I should write a book about my first experience away from home." Little did I know at that time, that it actually might happen.
I seriously have some of the kookiest people living around my little carriage house apartment in historic Tuscaloosa. This neighborhood is very prominent, but you can just tell there are a bunch of "hippies" living around here- so I guess you could say that I fit in quite nicely.
It's a tiny quaint apartment in a nice old lady's backyard. Now this old lady is by no means your typical old lady. A recent widow, she is one of the spunkiest old women I have ever met in my life. She HAS to be in or close to her 70's, and in a conversation I had with her, she was even talking about going back to school to take a few classes. She is a professor among many other things, and I've concluded that she is very intelligent, but nutty. Yes, my landlord is a true nutty professor, but I love it.
There are many other tenants living around here, as the house next door is separated into many little apartments and rooms that are rented out to other tenants. I just got lucky and happen to have the only stand alone private apartment. My apartment is on a second floor of what use to be a storage unit for horse carriages back in the day. I like to spend my free time perched up in my little "tree house" observing all the tenants out my window kind of like the old Hitchcock movie "Rear Window," and if you don't know what that movie is, just think of "Disturbia." Among these tenants, very strange tenants at that, I observe on a regular basis are her grandson who lives in the basement and her brother who lives next door.
- - TIME OUT-- as I am typing this in the student center at the university a girl just seriously attempted to recruit me into their sorority. At this point I think it is important to state that I am anti-greek. okay TIME IN--
The first time I met her grandson, he told me that he did yoga naked in the backyard every tuesday. He called them "Naked Tuesdays." Luckily, he was kidding, but that is only a small introduction to what type of character he is. I'm 99 percent sure that his hair is longer than mine, and is this very deep red color. I can't clearly recall but I'm pretty sure he has facial piercings and tattoos. If he doesn't, he needs to get some. He is apparently in some kind of band that wears a lot of eyeliner and hair spray, and he drives one of those Scion box cars. Every now and then we will cross paths and say hello, and a few times he has even come to my door to tell me some random information, which is cool I guess. But last week, he decided he was going to march up my stairs in his combat boots and ask if I wanted to hang out later on that week with a few of his friends for "trivia" night. Why not? I agreed and told him to get back with me. And he never did, so things feel kind of awkward between me and the yoga boy now.
My land lady's brother is a character too. First of all his vehicle of choice is an old 1990's toyota painted electric/pastel blue. I'm pretty sure he wears a hair piece, and he likes to walk around in very short shorts, almost like those nike shorts that all the rage with college girls these days. I haven't really talked to him that much, just in passing while I am taking out my trash. I don't know why, but I am a little intimidated by him.
Recently, my land lady's family has been in town because of complications with her back and mobilization. I paid rent at the first of the month and her daughter answered the door when I turned my check in. It was then that I found out the news that she had fallen a little ill, so ever since I have had strange cars and strange family members hanging around.
Ever since I moved in October I have been bumming her internet because it was unsecured, but her children got the bright idea of, "Oh, Mom needs to put a password on her internet." Dang, i was cut off. No big deal though, right? I can just call and get the password and things will be back to normal. But nope. All of a sudden the house was empty and no one was answering or returning any of my phone calls. All a girl wanted was a password. I began to call everyday at least twice a day and leaving one message on the answering machine everyday. Now people were in and out of the house because I would see them come home at night. I figured they would get back with me soon and I would resort to driving to the library to get online work done for school. After a while this driving back and forth became annoying along with failed attempts at phone calls. After 4 or 5 days of this, what was a small problem began turning into a larger issue. What am I suppose to do if my water pipes bust and my apartment starts flooding. Who do I call? Fill a girl in, people!
Last night, as I sat on my normal perch next to my bedroom window, I notice movement inside of the house. Yes! Someone is home. So I immediately slipped on my shoes and walked over there, and then knocked on the door. But no one answered after three knocks and about 5 minutes. At this point I'm frustrated. Is my amazing 5 foot stature so intimidating that you can't answer the door? Why yes, BE TERRIFIED. So I storm back to my apartment and call the house on my cell phone. As I am calling them I see TWO people, a guy and a lady, in the house and they completely ignore my phone call.
What the heck??
Now I am just curious as to what is going on and frankly ticked off, so I begin looking for other tenants. I walk up to her brother's apartment next door and notice there is a note on the door that says, "Do not knock or ring doorbell. I will see you and come to the door." ........Seriously? So I awkwardly stood there for about 2 minutes, and he never came. I knew he was home because I could clearly see his neon blue toyota in the driveway. I knocked. . . still no answer. I would like to additionally say that these people love to leave notes on their doors clearly expressing not to knock, because that's definitely not the first time I've seen a not like that. My night ended up resorting to catching her grandson walking through the back yard in his pajama pants asking him for the password, even though it was terribly awkward of the no show trivia night. So, yay! I have internet at my apartment now, and through this experience I have come to the conclusion that number 1) i live around some strange people and number 2) there is definitely something strange going on around here.

Shaky First Steps

Well, Blog World, it has been a while.

I have embarked on a new adventure in my life, because everyone needs adventure right?

Yesterday was my first official step on my journey through school at the University of Alabama- a shaky and quite disastrous first step called orientation- where the introduction was the football pump up video; I'm here for school, not football. I could spend a good while here at my computer talking about the problems I had with orientation, but number 1: I'm tired of talking about it, and number 2: I'm sure no one wants to read my cry baby comments. For justification purposes I will say that, after 3 hours of deliberation with my advisor I had a grand total of one class on my schedule last with school starting the next day, and ended up having to write a letter to the Dean in order to be a registered full-time student. Everyone in the Communications building knew who I was today to say the least, and greeted me with a warm welcoming hug and an apology. So I am very excited to say that I am now enrolled in 15 hours worth of classes (5) and things are rolling (no pun intended- get it? Roll Tide). With THAT being said, I find it almost perfectly fitting that my last official day as an enrolled Auburn Montgomery student to be the day that Auburn brings home the National title. So here's to a big War Eagle as I begin my education at the University of Alabama.

Classes:
Intro to Information Highway: An easy A class
Intro to Telecommunication and Film: This will easily be my favorite class this semester
Critical Decision Making: you know
Business and Professional Communication: I will end up getting the most out of this semester
Black Women's Stories: We read books written by African American women and talk about it. "That's all I have to say about that." -- Forrest Gump

Help Me Be Part of Something Bigger Than Myself

This the page that is linked to my birthday event on Facebook. I will be going on a mission trip to Mexico during my spring break this year. This is my second time going and I am very excited, but I need all the help I can get.
For more information. . .
Here is the mission trip website:
Mega Missions

All donations, small or large, are accepted and will directly go into my account. Just click the button below.

This just looks exhausting

As far as my vegetarianism goes, I want to get as far away from this as possible. Check the link below.

Vegetarian Conversation

These Walls Won't Ever Break My Heart

Welp (yep. welp.) Another unplanned early morning here in Slap(town). I couldn't tell you how long I have been tossing and turning in my bed trying to fall back into my amazing slumber. And what do I do? Roll over, flick the lamp on, reach for my laptop underneath the bed, open the screen, and pull up a word document. I am going to write. No surprise to me. Now as I stare at this screen. I am not sure what I am doing. I have no thoughts to put down. Or do I? Will this just be a meaningless jumble of words put together in atrocious fragments and run-on sentences bad enough for any English professor to fail me over. Yes. I will keep typing and typing as I sit here, i Tunes up in my room. . . My room. I love this place. My haven through time. With me for years and years and they have been through just as many changes as I have right along beside me. Furniture arrangements galore. New furniture in, old out, and old back in again. My bed. Ah I am now resting on my very first "big girl" bed (as I like to call it). I received this queen bed for Christmas last year, up until then, I always, ALWAYS had a twin bed. From pink walls to purple, blue, and green, to it's now more sophisticated dark grey. Countless phone conversations have occurred within these walls. Some that I can't and will never be able to recall and others that were so much more important and life changing. These walls have been my most faithful companions through the years. These walls wont ever break my heart, or ignore me, or run away. Yet. They will eventually crumble to pieces right along with me. But that's it- these walls won't be there with me when it happens. It's coming to that point. To begin saying my goodbyes to these companions. As faithful as they have been to me, now I must find new walls to share life with. But they no need to fret. I will most certainly be seeing them from time to time. And rest assured. They will never be strangers. Forever the Sickest Kids, "Whoa Oh!" was just chosen by iTunes. Breakfast anyone?

Love,
My Stream of Consciousness

Tip-toeing by the Meat

I have just completed my first grocery shopping trip as a vegetarian, and well I found that my trip was absolutely no different than any other. Bummer. I didn't pick up any ham for ham sandwiches, and I didn't get any stir-fry meals (they all had meat in them). Yep, thats about all the difference. I thought I would find difficulty and discriminatory while roaming around Wal-Mart's grocery section as a vegetarian, but nothing screamed at me as I tip-toed passed the meat section. Well, good to know that it's easy grocery shopping for a vegetarian. I do have one request- VEGETARIAN STIR-FRY MEALS!
As far as I can say, being a vegetarian is pretty neat; maybe I was suppose to be one all along.

Well here is my video obsession for the day. Which also has absolutely nothing to do with anything I just wrote about. I seem to be making this a habit.

you don't have to come and confess. we lookin fo you. we goin fiiiiiiind you, we goin fiiiind you.

I Am My Father's Daughter- A Love Letter of Sorts

“I am my father’s daughter.”
I find myself saying that on a regular basis these days. But I am. I may not look like him at all. Actually, I really don’t even know who I look like in my family. I do know this, that I am without a shadow of doubt my father’s daughter.
I catch myself looking up reviews on anything and everything imaginable before I make a purchase.
Amazon is my go to place for shopping and I’m making friends with UPS delivery man that brings all of dad’s packages with Amazon printed all over them.
While my dad has an entire room dedicated to music, I have an entire hard drive.
Our random acts of kindness usually have something to do with mixing CD’s for friends or gnarley music videos on youtube.
He likes to hunt down and research old artwork he finds in thrift stores while I’m googling the designer of the dress I paid 50 cents for at Faith Rescue Mission.
Why am I so obsessed with photography?
I like writing in all caps.
And I CAN’T STAND it when someone else does my own laundry. It HAS to be just so.
Our bonding moments usually have something to do with our love for Mexican food.
Who do you think taught me everything I know in the grand and glorious game of softball?
I draw. What? Me Draw? Wonder where that came from.
I can hold my own in a conversation about football politics any day, but I’d much rather talk about the newest musician I found online. I know deep down my dad would also.
I have a terrible back. Thanks Dad.
On occasion I will sleep upside down in my bed :)
Who likes World War II and black and white movies? *raises hand*
My dad and I are the only two people I know that actually has the Kindle software.
I got to art galleries and find that he’s already written his name on the email listing; he beat me to it.
Taking the scenic route? I think YES!
The beach? No thanks, I’ll take the mountains any day.
Countless more analogies.


See my dad is one of those people you’ll never quite figure out. He’s not a complicated dude at all, but he’s just so much more. Yeah sure, he likes to sit back in his nice comfy chair (or throne I like to call it) and watch football all day, that’s pretty normal, but there’s so much more to him, and it will only be uncovered by careful scrutiny over years and years. Which being his child, I have had all my life to do. Now Dad, I know you’re reading this, and if anyone knows I’m difficult to understand it would be you. My mysterious persona didn’t come from thin air either.
My father finds contentment in reading a good ole western tale or being in the yard with the dogs; heck he even looks like he’s having an amazing time while cutting the grass. But he also seeks adventure traveling near and far with the top down and the rest of the porch gang. He goes to more concerts that I do, and I’m definitely a concert junkie. He’s driven me as far as Arkansas for just one weekend, not to mention he’s driven me to Birmingham 3 or 4 times a week merely to play softball. Do I consider this adventure? Yes, and everyone needs it. My dad seems to be quite aware of it and I hope to spend much more adventure time with him.

On more than one occasion this week alone, I’ve had to stop myself in the middle of an activity look at my palms and verbally say “I’m just like my dad!” These words are said with utmost excitement and with the most precious smile that my little face can exhume. I honestly couldn’t think of someone that I’d want to be more like (Well besides Jesus.).
Again, I am my father’s daughter, and I couldn’t be more proud of that statement.
I love you, Dad.