If at first you don't succeed...

The five contributors have breakfast together on Thursday mornings. Or at least we used to. You see, in the realization of a dream long deferred, Kmac rallied all of us around the idea of getting up at 6:30 in the morning once a week and socializing at Panera in Midtown. I applaud her for this much, certainly; it is no small feat to wake me up even a minute earlier than I have to for class (and multiply that by four).

Things started off well enough: the first few breakfasts were huge successes. Amid the expected grumbling and dirty looks slathered liberally among us was true camraderie, and I found myself really enjoying how these brief meetings (and bacon and strong coffee) kicked my day off right.

But this joy, 'twould not last. Our buoyant spirits dwindled, and by two weeks ago only Anna and I rallied enough to make it to the rendezvous. Then, last week, something epic happened.

The alarm roused me at 6:30. I inwardly cursed, then rolled out of bed and splashed water on my face before my body could protest. I walked into the room to start pulling on clothes, and there was Kmac's form, smashed into the tiniest ball imaginable, dead asleep on the block of wood that passes for our room bed. You should also know that the dirtiness of our sheets and pillows is legendary.

A warning light inside my head lit up. This situation didn't bode well for breakfast, but I was already alert, dang it, and I was set to do what it took to awaken Sleeping Beauty. Meagan, who had been up since 6, of course, was studying in the room and started shaking her head.

Meagan: I turned all the lights on earlier and she didn't budge.
Me: Oh, she'll budge. (Begins gently shaking Kmac's shoulder)
Kmac:
Me: (whispering like a guardian angel and scratching her back) Kmac, Kmac, Kmac.
Kmac:
Meagan: (louder) Kristin. Kristin. Yates, you're going to have to be vigorous.
Me: Okay, Kmac. Rise and shine. Up and at 'em, old feller. (placing a hand on her butt, which usually wakes her up)
Kmac: Uggghnn.
Me: She's waking up! Nope, okay, no, she's still asleep. How did she sleep twisted up in that ball?
Meagan: (yelling now) KRISTIN! IT'S TIME FOR BREAKFAST!!
Me: COCK-A-DOODLE-DOOO! (more and more flabbergasted, to the point where I'm making up a song and doing cheer-like dance)...
KMAC, KMAC. YOUR FRIENDS ARE ALL THERE.
WE ALL WANT YOU TO COME TO PANER-
A. WAKE UP, WAKE UP, SMACKERS RISE AND SHINE!
YOU'LL BE THE PRETTIEST GIRL AT YOUR DANCE AND MINE!
(really embarrassing, but consider my deteriorated mental state at waking up early, no coffee, and now faced with prospect of it all being for naught)

Kmac turned her head ever so slightly and opened one vicious eye, which peered at me with an other-worldly gleam.

Me: Kmac? KMAC! You're alive! Hey, friend, wanna get some breakfast?
Kmac: Yah.
Me: Okay, well, you realize you have to get up and put some clothes on, right?
Kmac: Nah. (shaking head)
Me: You have three minutes.
Kmac: Okay. (rolls over and goes back to sleep)

I texted the others and cancelled at this point, realizing that we were all miserable and tired and that the brutal, early morning shock that comes with girls' breakfast is not worth the fellowship, especially when we see each other practically everyday anyway.

And then I found four hundred dollars.

savage where the chorus at?

Yates arrived at Kate and I's apartment last night plagued by the proverbial "I'm hungry but I don't know what I want to eat" dilemma.  A preliminary sweep of our food stash was unsatisfactory and when coupled with Surin and Bento's unwillingness to extend their open hours to Sundays (we'll attribute this to their love for Jesus because, as Kristin pointed out, it's important to love Jesus) - Yates was swimming in a sea of nutritional drought (it's a paradox).  And then Hill threw the life preserver - PIZZA. 

Later on after our Papa John's 14" cheese had been delivered we found ourselves in need of a refreshment more of the liquid variety.  That is to say, we was thirsty.  So Hill, being the valiant, true and noble gentleman that he is, volunteered to go to the BP. Actually I verbally coerced him into it - but that's another blog entry entirely.  

Hill: What do you guys want?

Me (without hesitation): Dr. Pepper.

Yates: I brought some water so I'll probably stick with that.  

Hill: No really, what do you want?

Yates: No seriously, I'm fine with water.

Hill: Yates. What. Do. You. Want.

Yates (cheekily): Beer, ha!

Hill: I have my fake ID.

Yates (with mild dejection): Oh.

Hill: What do you want? 

Yates: My water.

Hill: What do you want?

Yates: Sprite. 

Heh. Yates and her inability to stand up to peer pressure. Chin the butter already.

23 flavors!

sy

The Crown of Jewels

Place: University of Alabama Career Center

Time: 4:00 pm

Robby awkwardly and sketchily walked through the glass doors of the Career Center for a scavenger hunt (business classes are REALLY tough). He notices me behind the desk, and we begin chatting. The conversation covers many topics, none of which we have time for right now. But Robby pulled a little "play on words" in the middle of our serious conversation that made me laugh out loud. 

We are discussing our love for Jesus. Its very important to both of us that everyone loves Jesus, because if you love Jesus, then you will go to heaven. I'm talking in typical JH fashion about the difference between a believer and a disciple. The following dialogue occurs:

"Believers and disciples are all saved. We are all going to heaven. Its just that some people will have more jewels in their crown." -KMac

"That's okay. I've had enough Juls, thanks." -Robby

oh yates...

scene:  sarah's and my house for a heroes marathon

people: me, sarah, hill, robby, and yates

event: so we're all sitting there when yates's phone rings. it continues to ring and we ask yates if she's going to get it.  she doesn't know the number, and for those of you who don't know yates has an intense phobia of unknown numbers so of course she doesn't answer.  well, about five minutes later it rings again. same number. we ask, hey yates you want one of us to answer it for you?  no, she says, if it were important they would leave a message.  ten minutes later, phone rings again...you sure yates? you don't want robby or hill to answer it for you? no guys, she says, really it's okay.  another five minutes after this the phone rings again, for the FOURTH time...

(ring ring ring, yes the phone has been on loud the entire time and she can't silence it because then "they will know," we all turn to yates...)

yates:  "okay will one of ya'll answer it for me"

robby:  "here i got it yates..."

(on the phone)

robby: "wait pita pit? but yates you didn't order pita-"

yates:  "OH MY GOSH I FORGOT I ORDERED PITA PIT"

the poor poor pita pit man. but hey at his expense we get a great story for the blog.

we love you yates.

i'm not sure if i can convey how funny this actually was in words.

kate

People in Scotland eat blood. And sheep stomachs.

Anna has said and done some pretty priceless things on this trip. Unfortunately, it's hard to know when a quote or situation will translate well onto this blog. But here's one instance that I want to share with all.

For a little background, you should know that Anna, after finally tasting the bliss that is a freshly baked scone, has now become totally obsessed with them. She wants scones all the time, 24/7, talks about them unceasingly, and comments on every type and style of scone we find. Well, last weekend we journeyed to Ireland, and on a tour of the countryside stopped for tea and scones at a little shop.

These were Grade A scones, made even better by the rich clotted cream that was dollopped in plentiful amount on our plates. We praised and complemented them in every way possible; in fact, everything about the experience was perfect, except that someone had baked a few raisins into the scones, which we picked out before eating. During this process Anna raised her head, sighed soberly, looked at me like she was about to say something truly serious and/or important, and emitted this gem:

"I like my scones like I like my men. Without raisins."

The layers of this quote are manifold and very deep. I'll leave its interpretation up to you.

disco inferno

Disclaimer: A large portion of my brain has still resigned itself to metabolizing the sheer AWESOMENESS that was The Dark Knight. But what portion of brain stem function I do have cries out that I post about the events of last night. 

Last night was Kate's birthday dinner.  The theme was picky eater. It was in fact, a Picky Eater Party.  This PEP was the first surprise occasion that I have ever planned/been responsible for bringing the guest of honor to.  However, it should be noted that Hill Sewell contributed largely to my efforts.  Most notably by using our dinosaur cookie cutter to make lots of PB&J sandwiches.  And also making balloon animals. Which he apparently learned how to do solely by aid of the internet.  Thanks Al Gore! 

But the party was great. It had all the necessarily elements of partyhood.  Cake, hats, HelloKitty napkins and Kate being mercilessly pelted with goldfish in an attempt that one of those little aquarium crackers would go down her shirt.  Which they did, mostly due to the fact that someone picked up the whole bowl and chucked them at her. 

However, twas only after the party departed from 13th and Convent that things started to get quotable.  

We arrived at Cobb Theatre and were immediately immersed in the bustling activity that is a midnight premier.  If you've ever attended a midnight premier you know what I'm talking about.  There's just something about the occasion that makes it perfectly condonable for a middle aged man to don full fledged Joker face paint (this information comes to me via Riley, my brother, who attended the 12:01 premier in Chattanooga ).  Moviegoers are simply in their element at midnight premiers. 

So we arrive at 11:15 and nestle comfortably into our seats in Theatre 15.  Whilst waiting for the previews to begin Hill, Kate and I begin to discuss the movie Wanted, which we'd seen the night before.  We discuss Angelina Jolie's tattoos, James McAvoy's muscles and Morgan Freeman's use of the f-word.  But mostly, we pretend to shoot people in the theatre.  More importantly, we're mimicking the film in that we are pretending to shoot people by curving bullets. It is in the midst of this, dedicated reader, that Kate looks at me in her wide-eyed newly minted twenty-year-old innocence and the following dialogue takes place:

Sarah: (mimes shooting a curved bullet at some football player Kate recognizes) 

Hill: (follows suit and mimes the dispatch of another bullet) 

Kate (turns to me and sweetly asks): Can bullets actually do that?

Sarah (lowers her weapon): Um, can bullets curve you mean?

Kate (eagerly and somewhat enthusiastically): Yeah!

Sarah and Hill: .....................No.

We then preceded to make a way bigger deal out of this than we normally would. But that's because we were bored and still had over thirty minutes before the movie started.

Fast forward to the previews. 

Ominous music. Jennifer Connelly in some sort of leather bomber jacket and bluntly cut bangs.  People wandering through misty forests.  Jennifer Connolley's character has now been given clearance to something.  She's told not to be afraid. Keanu Reeves is hooked up to electrodes while someone ... wait...

Unidentified Movie Attendee (incredulously exclaims): Keanu Reeves?!

Entire Theatre #15: (erupts in hysterical laughter) 

Ah, midnight premier camaraderie. 

I just want some Mexican food.

The first thing I have to say is if you haven't looked at the pictures Riley tagged of me on facebook, then you are missing out on a crucial part of life. I guarantee you will laugh for at least 3 minutes at the intensity of my face and athleticism. And just for the record, I had the letters CH painted on my face that night (abbreviation for Challenge) for extra intensity and also participated in a pump up cheer session that was included on the official JH video...



Next item of business, I can't believe no one has posted those pictures on the blog to further my embarrassment. I was fully expecting to see them up within a week. I guess it helps that people are in Oxford and in Nursing School...too busy to humiliate me now.


Now for the goodness of the post. JT and I were riding around in the golf cart today. He took me to get my cell phone at the Bean (my place of residence) and we continued on to get an ice chest for offsite food. I commented that offsite foods was an easy job. JT responded it was because pimps were in charge of it and the following statement was made...

"KMac, on the Taco Bell menu, I'm the taco supreme. Everyone else is just a regular soft taco. Plain with meat and cheese."-JT
"I'll blog about that later."-KMac

I come home in a month. I will miss this place, especially the fact that Maury greets the entire staff everyday on the microphone with a "How we doing today, Saints?" That's right. I'm a saint. And if you haven't heard about the 498 Star Wars languages, I will tell you later. I thought Yates was a weird homeschooler...until I met Ricker, the Star Wars speaker.

Big hug, Kristin