Special Request

Blair has requested a "shout out" in the blog talking about "how awesome I [Blair] am" (direct quote). I don't think anyone really wants to read on and on about how "awesome" I think Blair is so I have decided instead to share some of Blair's most flattering moments captured by yours truly on film. Enjoy.


Blair wants me to stop taking his picture. This is one of my personal all time favorites.




Yes, Blair I am taking your picture.



FACE SWIPED.



Don't even know where to start with this one.

On a serious note, Blair is a spectacular son, brother, and friend. As these pictures show he never fails to provide a few laughs and I am very lucky to know him. And I hope he forgives for this post/knows what to expect the next time he asks for a shout out. Thanks for reading!

WH.
Mary



Belly Dancing Bust

My roommate Sam says she distinctly remembers being younger and someone asking her what she wants to be when she grows up and she responded with "a belly dancer". Therefore, it is no real surprise that when Sam finds belly dancing classes in our area she recruits me and Marsha to tag along. Big mistake. Not the asking Marsha part, the asking me part. This is what I feel like as the instructor starts to show us the choreography...

Overwhelmed. Period.

Marsha might as well be the teacher's assistant as she immediately picks up on all of the moves. Sam is so excited that the steps seem to come naturally to her. Not the case for me, I have never been much of a dancer (watch my home videos and you will see, sorry Mom and Dad for making you sit through those recitals). I think my lack of dancing ability results from years and years of horseback riding where every move is absolutely controlled; back, arms, hands, legs, and feet. These movements do not include a a great deal of constant, fluid motion so belly dancing was a struggle for me, to say the least. I did however have a lot of fun and would go to the class again once my body has time to recover because I am SO sore. Belly dancing has a specific posture that you are meant to hold while dancing so today my arms, neck, and back are not feeling so hot.

Will not be a back up dancer for Shakira anytime soon. You are welcome world.

So while Marsha and Sam while probably move up to the intermediate level class sometime soon I will either permanently stay at the beginner level or continue to rely on running for my source of exercise and embarrassment. Thanks for reading!

Mary

Bulldog Born & Bred

Glory Glory! Is Georgia great this season? No. Do I remain a loyal member of the Bulldog nation? Yes. Responsible for the "education" (aka 4+ years spent in Athens, GA by aunts, uncles, both parents, and younger sister) I will always cheer for the dogs and firmly believe that this is a growing season for us, a young team with a lot of talent and very capable coaches. And in very exciting news, UGA VIII began his reign as the university mascot this past Saturday as the Bulldogs took on Vanderbilt.

Escorted to the stadium in a cherry-red Suburban with the "UGA VIII" license plate on the back, UGAVIII (real name: Big Bad Bruce in honor of one of the veterinary school professors) was then driven to the middle of the field in a golf cart where the signature red collar with silver spikes was placed around his neck. Once in his air-conditioned dog house, UGA VIII proceeded to sleep most of the game but must have been quite the good luck charm as the Bulldogs stomped Vandy, 43-0. Gooo dawgs!



Isn't he cute!?

The bulldogs used as the university mascots are bred by the Seiler family of Savannah, GA. Recieving the first UGA as a wedding present in 1956, Mrs. Seiler made the dog a Georgia jersey using a red child's shirt from JCPenny with a black felt "G" sewn on the back. The ticket collectors at the game allowed the Seilers to bring their dog into the stadium as the Bulldogs took on Florida State and the tradition continues as UGA has become one of the most well-recognized mascots in college football.

Don't mess.

I hope UGA VIII's 55-pound self continues to bring Georgia luck because although I live in Gamecock country and have handled my fair share of taunting, I am still a Bulldog through and through. Sic 'em! Thanks for reading!

Mary

Blossom St. to Blue Ridge

So today I am on my run, straight cruising  struggling down Blossom St. with my i-pod on shuffle and this song comes on...

"Send Me On My Way"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-LSR72zy9eE

This prompts me to smile as I continue to bee-bop on down Blossom. And yes, I am aware at this point that I am that girl who smiles while she runs. This is not the norm. I digress. This song makes me smile because it is in the 1996 film version of the Roald Dahl book, "Matilda". My sister and LOVED movie and if you have never seen in then you are missing out.

I used to read "Matilda" in the backseat on my mom's Jeep as our family would drive up to our family's mountain cabin in Blue Ridge, Georgia while I listened to my Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons Greatest Hits CD on my disc-man (I have mentioned before that I was a nerd to don't even act surprised when you read this). Again, if you have never read "Matilda" you are also missing out. Matilda, her awful parents, Miss Honey, and the Trunchbull really put my over-active imagination to work, as did most of Roald Dahl's books.

READ ME!!!

Anyway, I just think its funny how a song can remind you of such specific things and it totally and completely made my day. Thanks for reading!

Mary

Foggy on Grey's

Yes, I am a Grey's Anatomy devotee. I am not ashamed. I am, however, not as familiar with what is going on this season. I owe this to the antics of our living room. Living with three roommates is highly entertaining as we all gather in the living room every night to watch TV and catch up before bed. There is usually laughter involved, last Thursday took it to the extreme. I brought my camera out of my room to attempt to document the chaos but I will do my best to describe the events as well.

OK, here Marsha has a stye and is yelling at me through the blanket. Zeco (Sam's boyfriend) is painting something on his putter with nail polish. Just your average Thursday.

Sam is painting her actual nails with nail polish. And Jersey Shore may or may not be on at this point...

Marsha and her hot compress for her stye. She has since murdered me for posting this photo so it has been a pleasure knowing all of you.

OK, like a said Marsha unfortunately developed a stye (a painful spot that develops on the eyelid). This prompts Zeco to jokingly tell her that she will forever be deformed thus causing no one to want to marry her so she might as well start naming all the cats that she will own when she gets older. This upsets Marsha who is now yelling in opposition to Zeco's ideas for her future and at me because I decided this was funny enough to blog about. In addition to the cat naming, camera avoiding activities Sam was not feeling well so she ran out to Walgreens to pick up some medicine. She did not inform Zeco of her plans so when he arrived at our house he is jokingly yelling, but still yelling, at Sam for not telling him she was sick/going to Walgreens. 

In conclusion, if you were to ask me what happened this past week on Grey's Anatomy I would tell you that it took place in a hospital and that is all I know. Thanks for reading!

Mary

Bake No Evil

The following photos are real.

Deliciousness may not be suitable for all audiences.

Healthy appetite discretion is advised.



Cupcakes from Marsha's birthday...well, what's left of them at least.



Halloween cupcakes that Sam just HAD to make.

The remains of the Nutella brownies I made for Marsha's birthday.

TOO. MUCH. SUGAR.

Because the cupcakes, brownies, and icing were obviously not enough.

These are all things that are in our kitchen right now. We have all responded to this sugary situation in different ways; Marsha seems to actually get a little upset, coming home from work looking at the sugar (I think that is the best term for our epidemic) and saying "Y'all get this stuff out of here!". Sam and I on the other hand, sense Marsha's stress and try to diminish the sugar situation with a bite here and a spoonful there. Unfortunately, Ashton has been under the weather lately so she has been able to avoid allow-to-cool-before-frosting-flu.

The only thing working in our favor right now is the fact that Sam's boyfriend and his roommates live across the street. This means when we are on the brink of drowning in our baked goods we can rid ourselves of our guilt and sugar-induced headaches and pawn these illnesses off on our hungry neighbors.

Bottom line: If the next time you see me I have icing in my hair or sprinkles on my face, please do not judge. I am surrounded. Thanks for reading!

Mary

All The Blue Jays You Want

I grew up in a family of readers. Now, as a brace-faced, shy, stage-manager-of-the-school-plays-middle schooler, this did not do a great deal for my social standing but it did forever solidify my relationship with books. Two books in particular, Little Women and To Kill A Mockingbird. Growing up I forced my sister and childhood friends to "play" Little Women. I, of course always got to play Jo while Laura was forced to be Beth. Sorry Laura. But this is not about one of the many ways I used to torment my sister, it is about the way that To Kill A Mockingbird has attached itself to me as I have grown up. Last night as my roommates got ready for bed, I sat transfixed in front of our television watching the 1962 film version of the book play on TCM and thinking of the ways I could describe my relationship with a book.



Life-changer.

 As a child I was fascinated by Jem and Scout's adventures with Boo Radley and began searching our backyard full of trees for presents that one of our neighbors might be leaving for me and Laura. Disappointment was the obvious result. Interest in history progressing, I then read the book with a new-found appreciation for what it relayed about race relations in the American South. However, it was not until a few years ago that I came to fully realize why I am so attached with this book. To Kill A Mockingbird is a part of me because my father is Atticus Finch.



Ok, this is clearly from the movie but you get the idea.

No, Gregory Peck is not my father's twin (though I do think there is some resemblance). I mean that my father is the same kind of man that Harper Lee's character was. Honest, possessing a clear definition and right and wrong, generous and modest, I grew up with Atticus Finch.  I also believe that Atticus (aka Dad) put forth a great effort to raise daughters that [hopefully] are open-minded, judicious, and kind. So as the movie ended last night and I felt the wave of homesickness rising up I was then immediately thankful that something as seemingly simple as a book can make you feel close to people that are far away.

In true Atticus Finch stlye, my dad is probably mortified that I wrote this so I won't go on and on with my favorite quotes, scenes from the movie. etc. but looking back I would tell my terribly self-conscious, mediocre-soccer-playing-middle-school self that she is lucky. Thanks for reading!

Mary