You're out of the woods, You're out of the dark, You're out of the night

My blogging activity has experienced a steep decline in the past couple weeks. I tend to write about marriage, motherhood, friendship, light-hearted observations, pop culture. I'll write about any little thought that crosses my mind, but I keep it upbeat. The past couple of weeks I have been met with an onslaught of sad events, and while I wouldn't say that I'm overly affected, I would say that my blogging inspiration has been temporarily extinguished. I mean, really, how could I joke about dogs humping babies and adventures in Netflix at a time like this? I'll return to blogging, just as Dorothy returned to Kansas, but consider this my attempt at a graceful segue: Things that happened while I wasn't blogging, that kind of made me feel like I have nothing to blog about.

North Texas is spellbound over case of missing woman: for the local reader, I could sum this up by simply saying the name "Susan Loper", but I'll recap for my non-Dallas readers:

A beautiful mother and local fitness instructor is kidnapped in the early morning hours from the local country club where she teaches Pilates, leaving behind only her phone, her purse, and signs of a violent struggle. A touch of irony: this was to be her last day of work at this country club before realizing her dream of opening her own Pilates studio. She is found a day later, brutally murdered, in an open field off a major road that I drive every day. Adding to the tragedy: she has an eight-year-old autistic son. As our peaceful suburb comes to terms with this shocking tragedy, police finally name a suspect. News outlets show his photo and photos of his home...and he lives across the road from me.  Authorities announce that they have located him. In the Grand Canyon. After he jumped into it. And lived. It's just awful, piled on top of tragic, smothered in horror and sprinkled with bizarre. Family and friends of Susan Loper are asking donations be made to help secure her 8-year-old son's future. You can assist by sending donations to

Jake Loper Trust
c/o Ferguson Law Group
2500 Dallas Parkway, Suite 260
Plano, TX 75093

Make checks payable to Jake Loper Trust


Tornado devastates Tuscaloosa: The level of devastation throughout the state of Alabama following this tornado is really beyond comprehension and I'm deeply saddened by it. At the same time, I feel kind of disconnected because I am all the way in Texas. We don't have to be in Tuscaloosa to help, though. Anybody can make a donation (every dollar helps) to the American Red Cross.

This picture touches me because those kids look just like my friends and I did when we were in college. I'm so sad for them over what has happened to their college town.

The Royal Wedding Happened: The coverage began around 3:00AM, as did my dutiful DVR, but I didn't press "start" until about 9:00AM. My mom's house was without power, so, being the good daughter that I am, I took photos of the television screen with my camera phone and sent picture messages of Kate's wedding dress, and I downloaded photos from online gossip sites and texted those to her, so we could discuss the hideousness that was Princess Beatrice's Fascinator (also, I'm proud to have learned the difference between a hat and a fascinator), and debate just how little effort we believed Chelsy Davy put into primping for the day.

It's my personal belief that her messy updo was the product of an all-night bender with the boys, and that her hangover hadn't even kicked in yet. Takes one to know one. Not for nothing, the girl's as cute as a button and would look good in a paper sack, so I'm not trying to be mean. I'm just sayin'. Also, if there had been a betting pool for being able to best predict Kate's wedding gown description, my mom would have a fistful of cash right now. The day before the wedding, since she was bored and without power, I indulged her in a little game of "What do you think Kate's dress is going to look like?" Her prediction: full skirt, strapless bodice, long lace sleeves, plunging v-neck, "very similar neckline to the blue dress she wore to announce her engagement". Well, how do you think my mom did?

Special thanks to Pippa Middleton for setting the bar for aspiring foxy bridesmaids everywhere. I have my work cut out for me if I want a chance to compete for the title of Hottest Bridesmaid 2011

Osama bin Laden was killed: Steve and I are watching TV in bed and simultaneously surfing the Internet on our respective phones. I know, it's good, quality time spent together, right? Steve catches a whiff of something on the Internet about an important announcement from Obama that will be taking place in moments. Of course we now know what that announcement is, and that we were kept waiting for over an hour to hear the announcement. Steve turns the channel to CNN, where the journalists, stalling as the press conference is pushed further and further back, repeat that they refuse to speculate as to what the announcement may be. Steve is all up in arms over this, but I'm all like, "Pfft, Barack Obama schedules press conferences more often than I schedule pedicures. He probably just wants to tell us that he saved a lot of money on car insurance by switching to Geico...or something." Steve insists, along with the news anchors, that this announcement is going to be major. Well, if this announcement is so major, where is my silver fox, Anderson Cooper? Steve gets bored with CNN and their refusal to speculate, so he changes the channel to Geraldo Rivera. I know, I know. Geraldo is so amped up, his voice has gone up a couple of octaves. He, of course, is not above speculation. He keeps shouting in a high-pitched voice that this announcement is going to be earth-shattering, etc. Not even looking up from my celebrity gossip, I nonchalantly mumble to Steve "The only way this is going to live up to the hype is if Obama is announcing that they've killed bin Laden." Steve gasps, "You think?! That could be it! You could be right!" "I've been right before," I say with a shrug. Moments later, Geraldo rips a printed email out of the hands of somebody off-camera and excitedly reads aloud on-air that Osama bin Laden is dead. This news comes as a relief, but I'm always going to kind of hate that Geraldo Rivera is the person who told me. I wish it had been the President. Or Anderson Cooper. Or Hugh Jackman.

So, throughout this flurry of events, my mom is living for six days like a pioneer woman--without power. This of course, is due to the aforementioned massive tornado. She calls me on the morning after her power is restored.

Mom: Well, I turned on the TV for the first time in nearly a week. I'm finally seeing footage of the tornado that has ravaged our state and only missed my house by about ten miles. Charlie Sheen is visiting Tuscaloosa to assess the damage. There was a Royal Wedding. Osama bin Laden is dead...

...My lights are back on, and it's a dramatically different world than when the lights went off.

Me: It's frickin' trippy, right? Did The Lollipop Guild greet you outside?

Mom: Pretty much.

Concert Attire

During my high school and college years, I attended dozens of concerts. I've always loved listening to live music. Since college, I'm lucky if I see a concert once every two years. Tonight, I'm going to see Lady Gaga.  I'm getting excited, and am once again facing the age-old question: What am I going to wear?

When attending a Lady Gaga concert, attention must be paid to one's wardrobe. Her fans are very creative and theatrical. I certainly don't want to show up dressed like Meg Griffin. While considering the possibilities, it reminded me how much I've always loved getting dressed up to go to concerts--and then I remembered one concert in particular. Of course I'm going to tell you about it, but first: a little background information:

To appreciate this story, I need to introduce you to my 10th grade biology teacher. She was considered a beast by many. A former Army soldier, she was hardened by her years in the military and her time spent overseas fighting in the first Gulf War. She never, ever smiled, and on the first day of school let us know that she already hated us. In case there was any doubt. Sitting among my classmates, many of whom were mumbling the word "bitch" under their breath, a fire lit inside me. I have a strange need to please authority figures. Earning an "A" in her class, along with gaining her respect and acceptance would be my primary goal this semester. By Christmas, Mrs. H. was gonna like me. She would be my Everest.

I accomplished my mission. She loved me.

Over a year later, I'm going to a concert with my best friend. Let's say it's the Matchbox 20 concert. They're playing at the Amphitheater, and so we park a few streets away and are making our way through the Applebee's parking lot towards the main entrance. I know, that sounds sketchy, but trust me when I tell you that "through the Applebee's parking lot" is a totally valid point of entry. I'm dressed to the nine's for the occasion: an Express black cropped tube top (with the optional spaghetti straps), low-rise hip hugger Mudd jeans, and Candie's platform sandals. Not to be outdone, my bestie was in a halter top and mini skirt. So there we were, bonafide jail bait, struttin' that ass through the Applebee's parking lot. I bet you can't guess who is also in the Applebee's parking lot at that exact moment, taking her daughter to dinner: Mrs. H. What a pleasant surprise!

"Samantha?" Mrs. H. asks with a puzzled expression. She's never seen me decked out in my finery.

"Hi, Mrs. H!", I wave with enthusiasm. I am so happy to see her!

"Samantha! Does your mother know you're wearing that outfit?"

"Oh, Mrs. H," waving my hand dismissively, "my mother bought me this outfit!"

Mrs. H. gasped and hurriedly ushered her daughter inside the restaurant, as if she were trying to shield her pre-teen from my exposed midriff. I had completely misread her look of horror as one of mock-horror. I always do that. My It's A Wonderful Life Violet Bick, "Oh this old thing? Well I only wear it when I don't care how I look!" moment just blew up in my face.

Excuse me, but I was a good girl and an honor roll student, and if my mama let me out of the house in that outfit, I don't think anybody else should have an opinion about it. Seventeen-year-old Samantha had a 25-inch waist and was celebrating the moment.

After that, Mrs. H. didn't like me. Between classes, she would stand in the hallway and monitor the students as they changed classes, and was always questioning my mini skirt or plunging neckline. She even took issue with my "conservative" clothes! I never thought my clothes were inappropriate, but my interpretation of the dress code was like the proverbial tree in the forest: "If I'm showing a lot of leg, but the boys still don't notice me, is it a dress code violation?"  I had to re-route my path from chemistry to algebra, taking two unnecessary flights of stairs while wearing five inch platform heels, just to avoid being hassled. It was great for my calves, but I always arrived to Algebra class late (and feeling winded).

All that being said, I still don't know what I'm wearing to Lady Gaga, but it will be considerably more subdued than my past outfit choices.

I've Got a Headache, and it's not a Toomer

"This has everything to do with a deranged person stealing joy from people who are guilty of nothing but loving their school." -Andy Staples, Sports Illustrated.

Full Article here.

I'm profoundly saddened by the poisoning of the Toomer's Corner oak trees. My brother and I each had our pictures taken under these trees when we graduated from Auburn.

 I looked forward to bringing my son here one day. Driving through the intersection of College and Magnolia evokes a feeling of peacefulness and of being home in a way that few other places have for me. Even if you are not an Auburn fan, and even if you think the tradition of rolling the trees that's been passed down through generations is silly, perhaps you have an appreciation of tradition, or a sense of whimsy, or maybe respect for nature. These 130-year-old oak trees meant a lot of things to a lot of people.

I don't understand how anybody can be so hateful. Football rivalries aside, anybody who makes jokes or snide remarks about this is cruel, and I've read some such remarks in my own Facebook News Feed, prompting me to delete two friends already. Seriously, if you can't even set the rivalry aside long enough to acknowledge that this is a horrible event (or just say nothing at all), I think you're awful. 

Here is another photo of Toomer's Corner in better days. Everyone in Auburn loves rolling Toomer's Corner, and that's what it's best known for, but my favorite memories are just of walking through campus on a pretty day. The Auburn Family has been robbed of something that it can't get back. The person suspected of committing this atrocity has been arrested, but I'm not sure there can be justice. These iconic trees are irreplaceable.

The historic marker, offering a little history lesson: 

Toomer's Corner in the 1890's, via The Langham Project 

The Best Part of Waking Up...

...is finding a sexually explicit image in your text message inbox!

No? Not really what you want to look at first thing in the morning? Yeah, me either!

I will file this under "Things that can't be unseen":

Around 7:00 AM today, a lady in the 205 area code sent a picture message that contained a dimly lit photo of a graphic nature. (I think "sexting" is what the kids are calling it). Unfortunately for her (and the world), instead of sending the erotic photo to her intended target, it went to my loving and sensitive husband, Steve. Being the thoughtful and astute man that he is, he took one look at the image, and, confused by what he was viewing, responded to the text with a question: "Are you digging in your purse?"

She did not respond. That's when Steve realized he had intercepted a bajengo picture.

From there, Steve shared his story, and later his photo with three of his friends, plus me. All this, despite my repeated insistance that "No, I do not need to see it!" He forwarded it to me anyway. I was so horrified, I griped to my brother, Jarred:

Me: I had to start my day by looking at a picture of some lady's junk!
Jarred: Pay it forward!
Me: Who sends a picture like that at 7:00 AM?
Jarred: It's 5 o'clock somewhere
Me: Well, it was a 205 number
Jarred: The heart wants what the heart wants. It knows no time.

View this Not Safe For LIFE photo at your own risk, after the JUMP!

Cam on Letterman

I make no promises that you'll laugh, but here's Cam Newton presenting David Letterman's Top Ten List: Top Ten Things Cam can say now that he's won the Heisman. Spoiler alert: Nowhere on the list does the phrase "Thanks, Dad!" appear.



War Damn, friends.

What the Hell Did You Eat?!

I'm relieved that my five pounds of Thanksgiving weight gain is now only four pounds, but it still begs the question: "What the hell did you eat?!" Steve and I went to Birmingham for the first time in four years, and while it wasn't a terribly long trip, there was a lot of food to be eaten. When you visit a place you don't often frequent, there are certain restaurants a person just has to visit while in town. While I normally wouldn't think consuming that many calories in a seven-day stretch is healthy or wise, I decided that in this instance I would make an exception in order to satisfy what I call "The Lunch List". It's like a bucket list for fat people. For instance, if I were to vacation in say, Maine, I would add lobster to my Lunch List. When I visit New Orleans, beignets from Cafe Du Monde are always on my Lunch List. When we go to the beach, seafood po boys are at the top of Steve's Lunch List. You get the idea.

So, I don't really think Birmingham is known for a particular restaurant or cuisine, so you may be wondering what was so important to us dining-wise. Here's a play-by-play of last week's calorie binge:

Milo's

If you're from Birmingham, you're probably already singing the jingle "Everybody goes to--Milo's!" I ate at Milo's once in 1997, and it was just "meh" for me. I didn't see what all the fuss was about, but I'm pretty much alone in my opinion. Everybody else goes bananas for it.  See that sauce in the picture next to the fries? Yeah, it's "special". To me, it's somewhere between a sauce and a gravy. You drown your burger in it and dip your fries in it. They're very generous with their onions, too. Also, their sweet tea is so famous, they bottle it up and sell it in the grocery stores. It's the best tea. One of the toughest things about moving to Texas was having to buy Red Diamond tea instead of Milo's. As the wife of a man who has sweet tea running through his veins, I can testify that the first time he realized he didn't have access to Milo's tea was a day without sunshine. Steve ate Milo's twice in the five days we were in Birmingham.

Mellow Mushroom

Famous for it's calzones, Mellow Mushroom is a pizza place found mainly in college towns. It was a favorite place for me to eat in Auburn. Luckily, they have a couple in Birmingham now, and don't think I didn't hit it up while I was there.

Are you gonna finish that?

Jim 'N Nick's

Jim 'N Nick's is a Birmingham institution, with several locations throughout the city, and a parking lot that is always packed. I had to hit up my neighborhood Jim 'N Nick's while I was in Hoover, but not for the reason you might think--famous for their BBQ, I'm a sucker for their...wait for it...grilled chicken salad. With homemade honey mustard dressing and delicious cheese biscuits and chocolate pie for dessert (obviously). It was tasty!

If only we had more time...
Back Yard Burger
Krystal (This one is all Steve! I had no idea anybody eats here outside the hours of 2:00-4:00am.)
Momma Goldberg's

Finally, I can't give all the credit for my Thankgiving weight gain to the aforementioned restaurants. Many other dishes contributed to my badonkadonk. I'd like to thank my mom for the cornbread dressing, chicken 'n dumplings, pot roast and chocolate cheesecake, without which, I might never gain weight!

The "Why I Love Auburn Post" I Meant to Write

War Eagle, everybody! I'm pretty sure everyone watched the Iron Bowl on Friday, along with the encore broadcasts throughout the weekend, but I would be remiss if I didn't mention our triumph on my blog!

"Ugh, can we move on please? That game was like, FIVE days ago!" -Alabama fan

Last week I tried, without much success, to convey why and how I came to be an Auburn Girl. It turns out that to discuss one's love for Auburn and the Auburn rivalry with Alabama without offending Alabama fans is tough, and the diplomatic Libra that I am doesn't want to hurt anybody's feelings. I strongly feel that even as rivalries exist, we should respect other people's alma maters. The sidewalk alumni can still suck it.

If only we could live in a world where after each Iron Bowl, we could all join hands--Auburn and Alabama fans united--and sing songs in perfect harmony, and share a Coke and a smile, and forget about how much we hate each other. I'm so full of shit today. Then I read Kurt Branch of Auburn fansite WarBlogle.com contribute his thoughts to the Blogger Roundtable of al.com. You can read the post in it's entirety here, but I'll share a few snippets from his post, because he expresses my thoughts even better than I did...and without insulting anybody! Perhaps he isn't plagued with insomnia and consumed by a four-month-old baby who runs his ass ragged? Or maybe he's just smarter than me. Or maybe I should never write about sports. Either way, read my two-cents in bold beside his quotes.

But first a disclaimer, so that I don't have to worry all day that my post hurt somebody's feelings: To Alabama Alumni and Family who read this: I have nothing but love and respect for you. Life is so cold in your shadow, please don't hate me for celebrating Auburn's day in the sun. xoxo

"We all know that Alabama has the larger fanbase, and we all know why that's the case, and it's not because Alabama has had so many more graduates than Auburn. It's human nature to want to pull for the team that has a storied history, lots of championships, and all that good stuff. So, if you have no ties to either school, why not pick Alabama? It's the easier road, right?" Yeah, I basically said that in my post--only in a more fragmented, less articulate way.

"No, I'm not implying that every person in the state who didn't go to college pulls for the Tide." Not EVERY person. "I know tons of people who pull for Auburn who never took a class anywhere. But in general, for the most part, most Auburn fans went to Auburn or have a deep connection to the school, while lots of Alabama fans do not have any real connection to the University of Alabama. They, or their parents, just picked the team that was considered more of a winner way back when. That's not a jab. It's human nature, it's numbers, and it's the honest truth, whether you want to believe it or not. A "jab" would be to say, "I wear this Auburn shirt because I went to Auburn, you wear that Alabama shirt because you went to Wal-Mart."

"I love the family feel, and I love the connection that I have with a good portion of Auburn fans. I also love the underdog role that Auburn is so often forced to deal with. I'm not conceding to the whole "little brother" idea that Bama fans are so quick to mention, but Auburn does oppose the state school, has the smaller (and fine with it) fanbase, and resides in an area that would never be confused for a bustling metropolis." I wish Bama fans would stop pointing out that Auburn is cow pasture-adjacent LIKE IT'S A BAD THING. It's like when I was a kid and other kids would call me a "redhead" as an insult. Auburn is rural and quaint and lovely. Not every university can be located in a city so impressive and beautiful as Tuscaloosa. It's our loss, but somehow we make do. "That being said, looking at the two schools only, there are no glaring differences in terms of statistics, awards, enrollment, etc. Needless to say, Auburn does more, or at least equal, with less."

"Not to mention, the Tigers just won their 700th game in their own storied history. Only twelve other teams in the history of college football can say they have accomplished that feat, so Auburn is by no means a second-tier team or school." Thanks, Kurt, I did not know that! I like how your opinions are backed up with facts, where as I just write about my feelings. I'm such a chick that way.

"Now what gets under my skin is when one of those many Alabama fans who didn't attend the school they pull for talks trash to me, as an actual Auburn graduate, using the word "we" when talking about the Tide. No sir, you didn't do anything. You didn't pay one dime, or sit in one class. Don't talk to me like you're better than me when I'm the only one pulling for the school I actually attended. This does not include you, Alabama graduates." It bears repeating: This does not include you, Alabama GRADUATES. "Although I do not agree with your school choice, you have all the right in the world to talk trash to me, make fun of me when Auburn loses, and take what I can dish out when Alabama loses. It is you that have done nothing but buy an Alabama t-shirt and then feel entitled to talk down at me or my school that I have a problem with." Amen! If I were an Alabama graduate, I would be aggravated by the "sidewalk alumni". Or maybe you get used to it. It's your beast of burden, Bama grads.

"Although it makes no sense, it's what makes the rivalry great, albeit infuriating at times. The whole state takes part, whether it's deserved or not, and gives everybody something to hold on to all year round." Um yeah, I find it mostly infuriating. I wish we lived in a world where the Auburn or Alabama fans were actual graduates of those universities, and the fans were respectful of one another and practiced good sportsmanship, and life was "rainbows and lollipops" all year round!

Thanksgiving Holiday: By The Numbers

Helloooo and Happy December! I haven't blogged in a week because I was in Alabama celebrating the Thanksgiving holiday. I need to stretch a bit before getting back to the blog, so here's a rundown of my trip...by the numbers.

Length of trip in days: 7
Outfits packed: 9
Hours spent driving from Dallas to Birmingham: 9.5
Time wasted in detours thanks to an unreliable "Starbucks Finder" phone app: 0.5
Dogs boarded at our local kennel: 2
Dogs reported to suffer from separation anxiety at said kennel, resulting in explosive diarrhea: 1
Dogs on hunger strike at kennel because she's pissed she wasn't included in our vacation: 1
Pounds of turkey breast purchased from Rudy's for Thanksgiving dinner: 4
Hitchikers spotted on the interstate: 1
Christmas CDs I forced Steve to listen to: 2
Iron Bowl parties attended: 2
"Tipsy Tiger" cocktails consumed at Iron Bowl party: 3
Friends visited: 20
Homecooked meals prepared by my loving mother: 4
Rounds of golf played (by Steve of course!): 1
Trips to Starbucks: 3
Hours spent driving from Birmingham to Dallas: 10
Pounds gained: 5

Auburn and Me: A Love Story

After the disaster that was Alabama/Auburn Day 1988, I always had a t-shirt for Alabama/Auburn day, and my decision of which team's colors I would wear was based on pleasing my constituents. I found that if I wore Auburn colors, other Auburn kids paid little attention, and Alabama kids were belligerent. If I wore Alabama colors, Auburn kids still paid little attention, and Alabama kids' behavior towards me was much more favorable. For those reasons, I called myself an "Alabama Fan" until middle school.

The truth was, over time I really had grown to prefer Auburn over Alabama. Auburn and LSU were both "Tigers", which felt natural, and as I was blossoming into womanhood, I couldn't help but recognize that Auburn's colors of orange and blue were much more flattering to my hair color and complexion than Alabama's crimson and white. Auburn was geographically further from Birmingham, which appealed to my independent side, and their fans, while warm and welcoming, generally didn't push their agenda on me. They weren't trying so hard to win me over, and I found their indifference alluring. It felt like Auburn was shrouded in a cloud of mystery. This intrigued me, and made me want Auburn all the more.


Auburn: The Mr. Big to my Carrie

 Did I choose Auburn based on colors, mascots, geography, and playing hard-to-get? Pretty much. I was a kid. How was I supposed to base my decision? I thought both schools were great, academically. I couldn't base my decision on their varied curriculum, because I didn't know what I wanted to be. I just knew where I wanted to be. Incidently, I still don't know what I want to be.

Most of my childhood friends were Alabama fans, and I tried really hard to be an Alabama fan. Crimson Tide football is exhilarating, the kinship that exists amongst the fans is evident and their enthusiasm is infectious. As a transplant into the state of Alabama, it would have been easier to become an Alabama fan. They have a rich tradition, including Bear Bryant and now 12 National Championships, and the most intense fans I have ever encountered. Why wouldn't I want to be a part of that? One could justify being an Alabama fan if for no other reason than it is easier to be "with them" than "against them".

"So it's not gonna be easy. It's gonna be really hard. We're gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, you and me, every day...would you stop thinking about what everyone wants? Stop thinking about what I want, what he wants, what your parents want. What do YOU want? What do you WANT?"

I could go on and on about why I chose Auburn instead of Alabama, but I'll let another "Sam" explain it. Sam Baldwin from Sleepless in Seattle, of course:

"Well, it was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together...and I knew it...it was like coming home...only to no home I'd ever known. It was like...magic. "

It was like magic, just like Tom Hanks said. I promised you a love story, and by George, you're getting a love story!

I visited Tuscaloosa and Auburn many times, and when I was in Auburn, I felt at home in my surroundings, and when Auburn won, I found myself caring more. During one visit to Auburn, I was attending the Iron Bowl as an Alabama fan, with Alabama fans, and Alabama won. I found myself gazing into Auburn's student section and wanting to be part of it. That's when I realized I'd rather lose with Auburn than win with Alabama. It's the only way to be an Auburn fan, since any Alabama fan will quickly point out that they are historically more victorious than Auburn. I guess my love for Auburn is less about the winning (though the winning is really fun) and more about the spirit of Auburn, the quaint and lovely town, and the people.

 "I'd rather fight with you than make love with anyone else."

As for the Iron Bowl? It's always a day I just have to get through. I have never enjoyed it. Whether the game is played in Tuscaloosa or Auburn, whether Auburn wins or loses, I always manage to wander past the wrong tailgate and get verbally assaulted and physically threatened. I don't have a thick enough skin to withstand the intensity. It's like staring at the sun.

My Love of Auburn: A Brief History

As we gear-up for the Iron Bowl, I pause for a moment of reflection on the Iron Bowls of yore. Oh, and disclaimer: the anecdotes in this post are representative of my personal experiences, and are not meant to generalize, stereotype, represent or insult all Alabama fans, especially Alabama graduates. If you're a Bama fan and you read my blog, you're good in my book! xoxo

***

I was not born an Auburn girl. I was born in Louisiana, the product of two LSU graduates, and when I moved to Alabama at age six, I was forced to align myself with either Alabama or Auburn in order to fit in with my peers. When we first moved to Birmingham and began meeting people, introductions were always some derivative of this:

New Friend: Hi! Nice to meet you!
Me/member of my family: Nice to meet you, too!
New Friend: Are you for Alabama or Auburn?
Me/member of my family: Oh, well actually, we just moved here from Louisiana. We're LSU fans!
New Friend: Um, ok. Yeah, but--are you for Alabama or Auburn?
Me/member of my family: Well, neither really. We're...LSU fans.
New Friend: Sure, but between Alabama and Auburn, which one do you pull for?
Me/member of my family: Oh...um, ok...I guess if I had to choose...Auburn?
New Friend: Ugh. [eye roll]

New friend walks away. Damn it. I picked the wrong team!

Kids grow up being a fan of whatever team their parents love. My dad bleeds purple and gold. On the weekends, I was home in my LSU cheerleader uniform, listening to the LSU marching band on vinyl (yeah, we were those people) and jubilantly singing all the cheers. But, during the week, while at school, I had to pledge allegiance to another team. As for which team, my decision would win friends and alienate others, and my criteria was pretty arbitrary. That's rather tricky terrain for a seven-year-old to navigate.

I remember my first Iron Bowl in 1988. Every November, Auburn plays Alabama in football. For the uninitiated, I can't convey the importance of this game to the state of Alabama. It doesn't compare to your team's rivalry. Remember when the Berlin Wall came down? That moment of global and cultural significance? Yeah, the Iron Bowl is bigger than that. If you're under the age of thirty, that reference is completely lost on you, so I'll try to put it into terms you may understand: It's a bigger event than the premiere of the new Harry Potter movie, an impromptu Justin Bieber concert in your school's cafeteria, the Superbowl, a very-special episode of Glee, the election of Barack Obama, being a guest in the Oprah audience for her "Favorite Things" show, and a shower of $100 bills raining from the sky, all rolled into one spectacular day.

Sidenote: Next time you see me, ask me to yell "John Tra-vol-taaaa!" in my "Oprah" voice. It always cheers Steve on a gloomy day.

Ok, back to Iron Bowl '88. I was not informed that the Friday before the Iron Bowl is "Alabama/Auburn Day" (or "Auburn/Alabama Day") and that students and faculty show their spirit by wearing their team's colors to school. There was no announcement over the intercom, there were no fliers posted, it was just this unspoken understanding, and I showed up wearing a blue and white jumper and barrettes with flowers painted on them, one flower being orange. This was met with intense disapproval by my Alabama fan friend. She was sort of the Biff Tannen to my George McFly, and I went along with whatever she said for fear of being shoved in a locker. I went to play at her house before, and after noting the elephant painted on her toilet seat lid, I made a calculated decision to declare myself an "Alabama Fan". My wardrobe choice on "Alabama/Auburn Day" betrayed me. Clearly, it's a dark day in my history.

How did I recover from my Alabama/Auburn Day fashion faux pas? How did I wind up an Auburn fan? The answers to those questions and--eh, this post just got too long so I chopped it in half. Read the rest tomorrow.

Everyone Loves an Auburn Girl

Me and my ladies, 2006

Ok, in honor of the Auburn vs. Alabama football game taking place this Friday, I'm going to publish some related posts. Hopefully nothing I write will offend my gentle Crimson Tide readers. Seriously, I love what you Tide ladies have done with houndstooth:

photo via fannation

I am admittedly not very educated on the subject of football, but I love my Auburn Tigers. This year's meeting promises to be a hell of a game. I should probably write a post about My Boo, Cam Newton. Maybe another day. Today I'm going to tell you an embarrassing story about myself. Enjoy.

The night before Steve moved to Dallas, he took me out for a farewell dinner at the now-defunct Restaurant G in downtown Birmingham. It was a very classy, white tablecloth type of place, and I was enjoying a chocolate martini for dessert, which may have prompted this little gem:


Waiter: So, where do you go to school?
Me: I'm a junior at Auburn.
Waiter: Oh! My baby sister went to Auburn! You know what I like about Auburn? My little sister was a good girl when she got to Auburn, and she was a good girl when she left Auburn.

Me: [enthusiastically] That's right! And what happens in Auburn, stays in Auburn!

Waiter glares at me and walks away.

Me: Jeez, what's his problem?
Steve: I think you just called his sister a slut.

Wingman

Jarred's been spending time with Kelly lately. I heart Kelly. Jarred doesn't need my help with the ladies, but that doesn't stop me from throwing in my two-cents:

Me: When you seeing Kelly again?

Jarred: Monday or Wednesday. Dinner or maybe drinks. I like the low key stuff with her. I'd like to take her to Salvatore's for pizza.

Me: When you gonna take her on a fancy date?

Jarred: Take her to Brio and get her drunk on wine?

Me: Something a little more formal, that's all. Or distinctive. Something that isn't a chain.

Jarred: Salvatores shares a wall with Subway ok, its nice.
Me: Some place that takes reservations...something that didn't used to be a Popeye's...just take her someplace that doesn't wrap it's silverware in a paper napkin.

Jarred: Just say Cheesecake Factory, we both know you're thinking it.
Me: I said no chains.
Jarred: You think you're all Johnny Depp, but you need to wake up and realize you're Skeet Ulrich.

Me: What does that even mean?

Jarred: I don't know, but it seemed like an insulting thing to say.

Misty Monday Morning

Misty: I want to start a furniture bank, like a food bank but for furniture. To donate furniture for people who are homeless or battered women.
Jarred: How 'bout you teach a furniture building seminar to homeless and battered women?
Misty: What?
Jarred: That way they have a chair and a skill.
Misty: No Jay.
Jarred: Remember Misty, you give a man a table, he eats for a day. you teach a man how to make a table, he eats for a lifetime.
Misty: Did you just make that up?
Jarred: Just dont be surprised when "Jay's Ottomans and Stuff" puts your furniture bank out of business.

Hide Ya Kids, Hide Ya Wife

"...cuz they rapin' erry-body out herrre"

A warning to would-be rapists in Lincoln Park, the housing projects of Huntsville, Alabama: When choosing whose bedroom window to climb into, skip the Dodsons'. They've put you on blast! These are the sassiest, most indignant crime victims I've ever seen. I love them.

"You can run and tell that--homeboy!"

P.S. Between this news piece and Struttin' That Ass, Huntsville is quickly becoming my new favorite city.



Thanks, Jason!

Crazy in Alabama

Here in Texas, we like our firearms, but this is a little ridiculous. I hope Jarred realizes that any email he sends me related to his crazy, dysfunctional co-workers is subject to publishing on this blog:

Overheard a conversation between my boss, his youngest son, and his wife. This is a direct transcript to the best of my recollection. My boss has undiagnosed OCD/Tourette's so the repetition was not embellished.

Andy: Got a notice today that a house was broken into down the street.

Boss: You need to get a shotgun.

Andy: It said no one was home but they took the TV and computers.

Boss: Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun

Andy: Well I was thinking about an alarm

Boss: shotgun, shotgun, shotgun, shotgun

Andy: I don't know if that'd help, I went to my friends house and he has a loaded gun in the kitchen drawer, several guns in a safe, and a loaded gun on his nightstand that he puts on top of his Bible every night.

Boss: No, shotgun, shotgun, don't get a pistol. You get a pistol and you will shoot yourself in the leg or the gut. No one ever shoots themself with a shotgun.

Jarred: Tell that to Kurt Cobain.

Boss: And if you get a pistol a robber will just steal it.

Wife: Why would the robber steal a pistol but not a shotgun?

Boss: Nah he needs a shotgun. shotgun, shotgun

I considered myself a pretty conservative person before i started working here. a straight forward republican. but this conversation made my skin crawl. made me want to drive a hybrid. made me want to vote for Ralph Nader. made me want to live in a tree in Berkley, CA. this place is turning me into a bleeding heart liberal!

Motivational Misty

Jarred: care for a Misty update to brighten your day?
Me: YES!
Jarred: 1st, she got clearance to speak to female prisoners. In some sort of "Scared Straight" program.
Me: Like that SNL sketch where they tell stories about their scrapes with the law but they're really just telling the plot of a movie?
Jarred: 2nd, she regaled us with a story of how she once beat a drug test by filling the cup with hot water and Mountain Dew. I wonder if she will tell that story to the convicts so maybe next time they can trick their parole officer.
Me: I can't believe that worked!
Jarred: She said they mailed it off and she never heard back. Guess they don't test them all. She even put it in a glass bottle and brought her lighter in case she had to had to heat it up.

Struttin' That Ass

I haven't been this proud to be from Alabama since I saw the news footage of the Alabama Leprechaun sighting in Mobile. This little nugget of of insanity comes to us from Huntsville, Alabama. Bubba is pissed because he thinks people who run for fun are "chauvinistic pigs" who are just "struttin' that ass" and that he doesn't strut because he has to walk. From Huntsville to Guntersville. Because he doesn't have a Mercedes Benz. Language is NSFW, but it's so worth it. Must watch til the end.

"You're Some Kid"

There was lots of cheering and celebrating at our house Sunday night as we watched our friend, Graeme McDowell, make history as the first man from Northern Ireland to win the US Open. Graeme's dad's first words as he congratulated his son, "You're some kid!" pretty well sum up Graeme, who Steve and I refer to as "Grammer". It seems like just yesterday he was playing golf for UAB and driving a 1983 Toyota Tercel. I got to spend a weekend with him in 2002 when he joined Steve for a golf tournament in Steve's hometown of Geneva, Alabama. Graeme had just been awarded the Haskins Trophy, which is college golf's highest honor (think Heisman for golf), and it was a great honor to have someone of his caliber playing in this small-town 3-man scramble tournament. Graeme really is one of the nicest guys we've ever known, and we had such a great time! Taking an Irish man to the deep south was classic fish-out-of-water comedy.

First, there were our friends, Katie and Lauren, who joined the weekend of fun. Upon learning that Graeme is the #1 college golfer, they dedicate Nelly's "Number One" to him, and for the entire weekend would shout the chorus in unison every time Graeme walked into the room, which happened no less than 50 times:

"I. Am. Number One! Two is not a winner, and three, nobody remembers!"

Graeme really didn't know what to do with these girls. Or with all of this attention.

Steve's nickname for people who act like goobers and knuckleheads is "mullet". In case it isn't obvious, it's because people with mullets are morons. Graeme had heard Steve use the term "mullet" many times, often directed at him, but he didn't really know what it meant until we took him to The Office, a nightlife hotspot in neighboring Enterprise, Alabama. We almost didn't make it to The Office at all, because Graeme tried to go out wearing a pink button down shirt and a necklace.

Steve (trying unsuccessfully to hold back the laughter): Oh, no, Grammer. I can't let you go out wearing that.

Graeme (defensive): What's wrong with this? It's a nice shirt.

Me: It's a very nice shirt, Graeme. Very...European. Just trust us, you do not want to wear that shirt out here. And I'm gonna need you to lose the necklace.

Steve: It is a nice shirt...a nice shirt to get your ass kicked in. I wasn't planning on beating up rednecks tonight, and if you wear that shirt, I'm gonna have to.

Me (waving my hands): And I'm trying to get in with a fake I.D. Blending in is of the utmost importance!

[2 hours later in The Office, blinded by cigarette smoke and surrounded by good ol' mullet-headed country boys]

Steve: Aren't you glad we didn't let you wear your necklace and pink shirt?
Graeme: Yes. I see what you mean...and don't ever call me a "mullet" again.

Congratulations, mate!

Misty Watercolor Memories...

Remember Jarred's co-worker Misty? She's not done talking:

Jarred: Misty is applying to start a new charity license plate (like childhood cancer). She knows she wants to do licence plates, but has no idea what cause to put on it. Rather backwards. She said something religious. I reminded her of separation of church and state. This further confused her.

Me: So Misty wants to start a charity. So that she has something to put on a license plate. They don't have specialty license tags in Texas, so I had to show my friend online. There are a bunch of new ones. I explained, if you want to save the environment, you can get an environmental license plate. but, if you more specifically want to save the Cahaba River, you can get a "Save the Cahaba" license plate.

Jarred: She likes the idea of helping the homeless. Me: There is a theme here with Misty and the homeless. Why is she obsessed with them?

Jarred: Saw a "Cure Childhood Cancer." Lady was smokin in the car with two kids in the back.

I thought it was completely absurd that Misty wanted to start a charity so that she can create a specialty license plate. Jarred's right, it is rather backwards. Recently, I had a conversation with a girl who told me that she was founding a nonprofit organization. She had done some research and had begun the process of registering her nonprofit with the state, purchase a domain name for her charity's website and setting up a Paypal account for would-be supporters to make donations to this charity. The one stumbling block in her whole plan: she still hasn't selected a charitable cause. The obvious question here is, "Then why are you doing this?" I have to say, I admire her candor: She was inspired to start a charity by her desire to rollerskate around White Rock Lake in Dallas wearing a bikini. She figures, if she starts a charity, she would have an excuse to coordinate a bikini rollerskating event. And, to that end, she has also amped up her workout routine so that she has washboard abs in time for this event. The jokes write themselves, people.

I'm Rooting for the Pink Ninja

The Biggest Loser finale is tonight, and I can't wait! I typically watch while eating something that would cause Jillian Michaels to have a conniption fit. My favorite part is the weigh-in. As one of those women who is prone to thrice-daily weigh-ins myself, there is something very rewarding and exciting about seeing these contestants hop on that scale to see their progress for the week and learn who is safe and who is up for elimination. The drama! The suspense! If NBC aired a Biggest Loser weigh-in every day of the year...I would watch.

I cheer for the Pink team. I was tipped off about them on Facebook, where I learned this mother/daughter team has another daughter who graduated the year before me at Hoover High School. Pink team members Sherry and Ashley Johnston call Knoxville, Tennessee home, but if Sherry's other daughter, Cyndie, is a Hoover girl, then Sherry and Ashley are at least honorary Hoover girls, and I have to pull for them!

That being said, I would have pulled for Sherry and Ashley regardless. They are fantastic. I've watched this show for years, and it is refreshing to see these women achieve their goals without whining, throwing a pity party, making excuses, relying on politics, or otherwise being a trouble maker or drama queen. Also in their favor: they're not one of those annoying guys who goes on and on about how they're here to inspire [eye roll]. Sherry was eliminated weeks ago and has gone on to continued weight loss success at home, but 27-year-old Ashley, who started the competition at 374 pounds, earned her place in the finals after dropping 161 pounds! I never thought Ashley would make it this far, not because I didn't believe in her, but because the Reality TV gods always take away the ones I love the most. They're so cruel. But this time, good prevailed and Ashley's going all the way!

I'm proud of Ashley, because she has accomplished so much, and she did it with grace and class. I know she will have lost even more weight when she appears on the finale, but she looks fabulous and beautiful already! I would love to see the $250,000 Grand Prize be awarded to her.