Monday, February 23, 2015

Weekend #3: CRU Formal

Let me just start out...I love to dance. Not all that disgusting "sex on the dance floor" that happens at prom or any other high school function. I like dancing...moving my hips, jumping around, doing the lawn mower, the lightbulb, the disco, the cha cha slide. You name it. And naturally at college, I miss dancing because let's face it, a girl can only have so many solo dance parties before they lose their magic.
This organization that I have become involved in on campus called CRU hosted a formal on Friday night. CRU is a nondenominational christian ministry that provides a service on Thursday evenings and bible studies based on your residence hall. Just for those of you that haven't heard of CRU. It's pretty cool...I kinda like it :)
So, as with most other school functions, I attended the dance stag with my girl friends. We had dinner at this great restaurant in Chatt called Big River Grill, and as we were sitting at dinner, snow began to fall. Let me hasn't actually snowed in Chattanooga all winter. Tennessee was in a winter advisory, and this horribly weather somehow MISSED Chattanooga. I don't know how. Chatt just lives in its own bubble I guess.
But the snow was absolutely gorgeous--the nice powdery stuff that just floats out of the sky. First it just began to cover the sidewalks, then dusted the sides of the roads. By the time we left for the formal, the roads were completely covered. Everyone stood outside taking gorgeous pictures in the snow. Better than any spring prom pictures in my opinion.
And the night was just perfect--dancing (not grinding or twerking), and I mean everyone was dancing.The music was great, despite the fact that they wouldn't let my roommate and me request our song--Fergalicious. But it's okay. We're not bitter.
I'm lucky--I had a good prom experience. But there are some who are less fortunate...who couldn't afford it, or just had the most unfortunate of luck at that time. The Hollywood CRU Formal was a prom redo, for one particular girl in my bible study, and I am so happy I got to see her at her Prom Redo. Plus she's a pretty spectacular dancer.
God always gives second chances, even if they are for materialistic things like proms. Doesn't really matter. He wasn't giving people another thing. He was giving them, me, another memory. I love my memories, and I'm so grateful that I've had the chance to collect so many great ones in less than a year.
Alright...two more weekends to go! Stay tuned!

Friday, February 13, 2015

Friday the 13th: The Adventure of Misadventures

Misadventure (n.) - an unfortunate incident, a mishap.

You could say I had a few misadventures tonight. But you know me, I'm one to turn a misadventure into an adventure. And that's exactly what my friends and I experienced tonight.

For those of you unaware of this weekend's reason for being excited, for including the weekend of Friday the 13th in my countdown, tonight was going to be my third annual WinterJam experience. But this wasn't going to be just any WinterJam--I was going to have the blessing of seeing Skillet live! This may not be a big deal to some of you, but to me, Skillet is the big time, someone I'd pay to see in concert apart from WinterJam. So two of my friends and I had plans to go to WinterJam. We left earlier than last year since we didn't want to sit behind the stage again.

The night's misadventures all started with a wrong turn. We didn't want to turn onto Pellissippi. We were going to Neyland. But somehow, we turned onto the wrong highway. By the time we got back on the right track, Thompson Bowling arena was filling to the max. An hour before the awaited concert, we arrived in one lane, standstill traffic. And waited...for another fifty minutes. By the time we got to the building and jumped out of the car, Thompson Bowling was filled to the max--no more concert go-ers permitted. No Skillet for me.

The idea was foreign, could this arena, the arena used for Lady Vol basketball and so many other HUGE full? Well, one thing's for sure. God's not dead, and his children wanted to sing his praises tonight...we just weren't one of the lucky thousands.

So, plan B) Bowling. I mean, I have tendinitis in my wrist and a bruised ankle, but hey...I'll learn to bowl with my left hand, right? Wrong. As we walked into the bowling arena from the full parking lot, we realized we weren't going to be bowling tonight. "Forty-five minute wait," the guy said. "We have lives to live," Olivia said. And we were out the door.

Plan C) Movie then dessert. Great plan--Kingsmen is playing in twenty minutes. Let's go. Again, we are dropped at the door. We wait in line, because come on, it's valentine's weekend. Get up to the counter. "Can I see your ID?" the girl asks my friend. She pulls out her wallet, and the girl shakes her head, looking at the other two of us. "All of your IDs." Well, me in my absent-minded ignorance, left my wallet at home. "You have to be 21." Since WHEN do you have to be 21 to see an R movie? Never! We wait for my friend's mom to come and buy the tickets, but the girl calls us back over. "It's going to be sold out--there's no way you're going to get seats together." I'm convinced she had a personal vendetta against us, despite the ridiculousness of the idea. And just to top it off, we ran into a rather unpleasant face from high school...perfect...just perfect.

Okay, plan D) get dessert then rent a movie for home. Good. We go to the Olive Garden in Turkey Creek, because who doesn't want a dessert from Olive Garden, right? "45-50 minute wait," the hostess says. We're out the door before she can finish. So we settle for the Olive Garden in good Ole Maryville, the Olive Garden with no wait, good service, and delicious desserts.

So on to Hastings we go, searching vigilantly for The Best of Me, because what else are we going to watch on Valentine's eve except Nicholas Sparks. Let's be honest here. Search and Best of Me for rental. Okay, we'll buy it. Grab the movie and head out. Half way home, after removing the stickers, we realize something...we bought a blu-ray...we don't have a blu-ray player. I'm going to be honest, I'm about ready to cry as we turn back around. We CANNOT catch a break.

Fast forward another thirty minutes. We've finally made it home, curled up under blankets on pillows together, watching as James Marsden charms us all with his beautiful ruggedness and gorgeous smile.  I know we're all thinking about the misadventures we've had tonight. People ask us what we did tonight. Better question: what didn't we do tonight? WinterJam, bowling, see the Kingsmen, wait 45 minutes for dessert, rent a movie. Now who can say they didn't do all that in a matter of five hours. Yes, we drove for nearly five hours tonight. Just think about that for a second: five hours in a car, and nearly nothing accomplished.

But it was an adventure. Yes there were mishaps--unfortunate mishaps. Doesn't matter. I got to spend the night with a few of my favorite people, watched a good yet predictable movie, and spent the first few moment of Galentine's day with my gal pals. What better way to spend Friday the 13th? I couldn't have asked for a better adventure of misadventures. I highly recommend a misadventure sometime--you never know what will come of it.

Friday, February 6, 2015

Weekend Countdown: #1

Happy 19th birthday to me! I'm in my last teen year--very strange to think about. There's four very important birthdays in a young woman's life:
            1. 13--the year everything begins to change
            2. 16--the year everything becomes better
            3. 18--the year everything becomes real
            4. 21--the year of infinite moments.
But everyone seems to forget about 19--the in between year. This year does not mark me as a voter or a legal cigarette buyer (not that I want to buy cigarettes, it's just legal now). I cannot buy alcohol yet or rent a car. I'm just nineteen. And I feel like this is supposed to mean something, but as of right now, it really doesn't. Today was just a day of celebration, a day that reminded how amazing my friends and family are. I am so very blessed to have so many people who care about me, or at least acknowledge me. And that's all that matters at this point in my life.
Normally, I would be writing this entry in my journal--the next year in the line of successive years that are to come. However, my slightly unforgiving wrist issues are impeding me from writing vast amounts. Yes, these two measly paragraphs constitute as vast for my wrist.
However, here I am sharing my birthday thoughts with the internet. It's not like I have extremely deep thoughts. In fact, my thoughts are very commonplace. I am surrounded by friends and family who astound me with the thoughts that pop into their minds on a daily basis. I wish my mind would think like that--be funny, or witty, or just inventive all the time. But then again, that sounds very exhausting.
I understand that these paragraphs seem very choppy and disconnected. They are. I could go back in and edit them, but then I would not succeed in being honest to my train of thought. My own thoughts are exhausting enough, I don't need to be funny, witty or inventive all the time. I have my own mind to deal with.
Anyway, back to birthday thoughts, since that is what this entry is about, correct? I haven't lost you have I? It's okay if I have. I lose myself occasionally.
So this weekend--the 19th birthday weekend--is the kickoff of my five weekends of thrill. I can't tell you what the next four weekends have in store. You're just going to have to find out for yourself. A grueling practice, I'm sure. I've loved this weekend so far--I've spent time with my family, had some pretty excellent food, seen my older "sister" (you know who you are), gotten to lounge with my dogs, and this is just the first day. Tomorrow--more family, friends, and PAINTING! I may or may not post pictures depending on how horribly my picture turns out to be. Sunday I'll be back on the road to Chatt for a joint-birthday celebration! The weekend is just starting, but it's going to be great.
I always expect the world for my birthday, which I know is a detrimental practice. But I love birthdays, and I always have this silly notion that something magical is going to happen, though it rarely does. Normally, when I build my sights so high, I'm torn to shreds when my fantasy doesn't become reality. But for my birthdays, I've learned that my fantasies can stay fantasies. Reality proves just as great (for the most part).
I don't really have anything else wise to say--I'm not even sure that I've said a wise word in my entire life. Maybe nineteen will prove this to be a new experience. Who knows? Skies the limit, right?