easter and us.

So this year I decided to gracefully bow out of the whole family Easter bit and took a small road trip out of Nashville with two wonderfully hilarious guys and an overnight bag. Sunday we all woke up with plenty of time for coffee and a sentimental stop at the local Hardees, and then we were in the car making the gorgeous drive to a sweet little church miles away from everything. To cut to the chase, we ended up missing the church service completely thanks to some confusion in start time. After we lost our S for a moment – we were in our Easter best and had driven down to experience Easter service there – we resolved to spend the day outside, which proved to be a spiritual experience of its own.

We made the short drive to the buffalo river and walked down to the water. There we were, the three of us, I in my cotton sundress and the two of them in their pressed khakis, looking out at this perfect creation. I didn’t say much. I was taking in every moment of every thing. Taking off my wedges and tip-toeing into the water. Watching the three of us look like a J.Crew ad, wading in the river fully clothed in our church clothes. Laughing at him as he threatened to throw me in, smiling at me like he meant it.

It was perfect.

From there we went to a waterfall in natchez trace – I seriously felt like I was on the most excellent grown-up field trip. I didn’t even complain when I was slipping and sliding in my rainbows nor did I worry when I was anything but ladylike while climbing around to get closer to the waterfall. Sure, I might have gotten mud all over me and yes, my legs were sore the next day, but for that afternoon, everything was calm.
We rode back to Nashville with the windows down and the radio off.
I soaked the whole picture up from the passenger side.

paint in hair.

I am in no shape, form or fashion an artist, nor am I a painter. I don’t even try to pretend – I mastered the stick figure at age 5 and have not progressed much further. I might have drawn a house or something in a required art class but obviously that was not my forte. Now ask me to write a song and I’ll have something to you in an hour, and I’ll most likely be proud of it. Ask me to walk around the Frist or the Art Institute and discuss emotions and the history of paintings and sculptures and I am in 100%. Just don’t ask me to make art of my own – it has always ended in a premature ending or a small disaster.

However, I would like to make it known that at age 24, I have created art. Or something like it. Ash and I were antiquing in Franklin for her new place with the Hubs and we went into one of my favorites – Lulu. I instantly fell in love with a painting of a sweet little phrase, which later my boyfriend, Google, told me was an Irish proverb. The price tag read way too much for something I assumed I could attempt to create myself, so I snapped a quick photo while Ash created a diversion. Such rebels we are. OH brother, I know. So after a trip to hobby lobby and a quick stencil tutorial from the master, I was ready to begin creating my masterpiece. We turned on Mumford & Sons, set up camp in the big room and just went with it – I am certain I have not concentrated on something so hard for so long. To everyone’s amazement, I didn’t take any breaks. I didn’t start yelling four letter words when I almost misspelled the word “oftener” in stencil and paint. I stuck with it. I conquered that B of a canvas, and 3, ok 4, hours later…it was finished. FACT: I had more paint in my hair and on my legs than on the finished product. I was so proud.

Sure, it’s not perfect, but I love that about it. Imperfections make art approachable and lovable. Hell, imperfections make people approachable and lovable. Feel free to quote me on that.

eat, sleep, repeat.

white blank page, mumford & sons

Can you lie next to her
And give her your heart, your heart
As well as your body
And can you lie next to her
And confess your love, your love
As well as your folly
And can you kneel before the king
And say I’m clean, I’m clean

But tell me now, where was my fault
In loving you with my whole heart
But tell me now, where was my fault
In loving you with my whole heart

A white blank page and a swelling rage, rage
You did not think when you sent me to the brink, the brink
You desired my attention but denied my affections, my affections

Lead me to the truth and I will follow you with my whole life
Lead me to the truth and I will follow you with my whole life

I guess every superhero need his theme music

Although I am supposed to be working on an ever so boring assignment for my next to last grad school class, I am currently attempting to lasso my thoughts for you since it’s been a week or so and let’s face it – the 12 people who read this blog have GOT to be getting antsy. I feel like a negligent girlfriend and I’m sorry – this is why I don’t do well with plants, or goldfish. As assumed, this past week has been quite eventful, and while I wish I could re-tell all the sweet and hilarious details, I’ll summarize:

A.) Small road trips are the greatest. Everyone is always rushing, some of us speeding, to get to the next place – I’m not talking about that. I’m referring to the times when your plans change and you find yourself happily in the passenger seat loving the ride. He knew I was sleepy so he asked to drive me back to Nashville, and I couldn’t even pretend to object. A few days later he drove me back to get my car, cue another road trip, and I was even more excited for our next adventure. There’s just something about being in a car with a boy who makes you smile. Especially one that sings along to Kanye with you. Which brings me to my next point….

B.) Say what you will about Mr. West, but he really knows how to make a great album. Sure, he has more ridiculous lyrics than poignant thoughts – see also: “_______ we rollin’, with some light skinned girls and some Kelly Rowland’s” – BUT he’s genius in his own right. I don’t want to go all Rolling Stone on you, but “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy” transcends rap and is actual music. I’ve even started subconsciously dropping lyrics into everyday conversation, something that in the past has only been reserved for White Stripes lyrics – slowly turning into you being the most common. I would also like it to be known that I purchased this album not once, but twice, which if you know me you know is an occasion since I tend to “borrow” songs before I commit to purchasing the full album. (However, I am changing my ways and have not “borrowed” in months, thank you Amazon and positive peer pressure.)

C.) I was asked to speak at my alma mater for communication day, an event where all the PR/Comm/Journalism majors are invited to listen to working professionals give advice, an event that I helped plan while I was a PR major. Holy run-on sentence. Any who, I’m not dwelling on the event itself – that was fine. What was noteworthy and altogether surreal was the feeling I had while I was back on campus…seeing old professors and reuniting with some people I really do respect and love. It made me so thankful for that time in my life, and even more aware of how blessed I am to have such wonderful people in my life now. It’s crazy to think that a few years ago I was with different friends, dating different guys and worrying about how many chapel skips I had. I feel so blessed that I am where I am, with who I’m with, doing what I love and on my own adventure. Hope that wasn’t too sappy.

D.) You know what isn’t sappy? Karaoke. Speaking of karaoke, singing “Fancy” at a karaoke bar is ALWAYS a good idea. Did I sing this classic Reba hit? No. An older lady with a rather large arm tattoo beat me to it, but you know what? Next time, I’ll be ready.
I will now leave you with some eloquent Kanye lyrics. you’re welcome.
How ‘Ye doin? I’m surviving
I was drinkin’ earlier now I’m driving
where the bad bitches huh? where ya hidin’?
I got the power make your life so exciting…