ghost tour

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Last weekend, Caleb and I went on a ghost tour of the historic district of Huntsville. We had been before, but the tour is divided into different districts, so we got to have a different tour than we had before.


We don't really believe in ghosts, but being creeped out is always fun.  Caleb is a big history buff, so he appreciates the actual stories that go along with the "hauntings."  I just appreciate feeling like I'm on Ghost Hunters.
The guide was dressed up as a scary undertaker, adding another layer of creep to the proceedings.


The tour started at 6, so it was still daylight outside, making things more funny than scary.  Once it got dark, though, things got much creepier.  I'm fairly certain I saw a ghostly shape in the window of an abandoned house... but, as Caleb informed me, it was probably just a reflection in the glass.



If there's a ghost tour close to you, I highly recommend you take it! It's tons of creepy fun and you'll learn a lot about your city :)




up in the mountains

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Monday and Tuesday were my fall break, so we went on a trip to Gatlinburg, Tennessee with our church.  We stayed in a cabin with an incredible view, hiked (I'm still sore, it was pretty intense), and drank lots of coffee on the porch. It was a great couple days of worship and fellowship.





This was our view. It was amazing.  The mornings were the best; there would be a ton of fog in the valley (The "smokey" mountains, get it?) and the sun would rise over the mountains and burn it all off. It was beautiful.




The best part about the trip was definitely the fellowship and the worship.  Being surrounded by so much natural beauty is quite the reminder of how great God is and how blessed we are.









This was Chimney Tops.  The hike was 2 miles in and two out, and at least a mile and a half of it was steep uphill.  I'm still sore, and there were a few times I wanted to give up, but I'm so glad I didn't.  You felt like you were sitting on top of the world; the summit was this huge rock face on top of the mountain that looked over the valley.  It was incredible

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the iphone-less weekend

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It finally happened.
For a year and some change, I have kept my iphone safe. This is because I knew that if something happened to it, I would freak, because that's what I do when things happen. Also, there wouldn't be much of a chance of me getting another one, because the retail value of these things is ridiculous.  Plus, my parents were one of the last bastions of thriftiness who saw no reason to be spending extra every month for me to have internet access whenever I pleased.  It was many a long year of being the only one of my friends with a flip-up keyboard and a separate camera before I joined the kingdom of smartphonedom.

It wasn't this bad. But it was close.


But on Thursday, all was lost.
We've needed to get Drano for the bathroom sink for a couple days (I know, we're gross, but we literally have one night free a week and going to the DG for cleaning supplies just didn't seem that important when it finally rolled around), and so there's a few inches of standing water in the bottom.  Because I am addicted, my phone was sitting on the side of the sink, and I bumped it when I went to wash my hands.

It slid in, I saw it go and yelled curses, got it out and dried it off.  Everything seemed fine, so I didn't worry about it.
Little did I know.
About an hour later, I tried to call Caleb.  I couldn't hear anything coming out of the phone, and Caleb told me after he got home that he couldn't hear me either.  Something was definitely wrong.
After seeking the advice of my FB friends, I threw that sucker in a bag of rice.  We are now waiting to see if it will recover from it's watery dunking.

I dealt with it better than I thought I would, actually.  It'll sound stupid, but I feel so strange without that form of communication.  Of course I had the computer, but not having a way to instantly communicate with someone is strange.  Freeing, a bit, but mostly strange.
The social media aspect was weird to be without, but I think it taught me a lesson.  My first instinct when I see something pretty is to take a picture of it for instagram.  I saw so many gorgeous things this weekend - changing leaves, antique dishes at a moving sale, some slammin' latte art - but there aren't any pictures of them.  I just have to remember them.  It somehow makes them more special to be private rather than shared with everyone.

We went out and had a great time with friends this weekend, and instead of checking my email and editing snapshots to post, I was just there, experiencing it without documenting it.  It was refreshing.

Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty anxious to get my phone back, but the break from the constant communication and technology was timely.  And probably needed.

our (teeny) space

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Our apartment is tiny.
Like, the size of some people's bathrooms tiny.
But its enough for Caleb and Margo and I, and we've made it pretty homey, if I do say so myself.
Here's a few glimpses at what we've done with the place:


We use oil lamps that are hand-me-downs from Caleb's grandmother to help cut down on the electric bill. Pioneer chic. Also, Sarah made the initial shadowbox, she's a crafty one.





The banner says "I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine." I love that verse and the space above our bed was lonely, so I whipped up the pennant one afternoon.


Our sweet friend Amber made this shadowbox for us!

We probably won't live here terribly much longer, but I'm glad we've been able to decorate it and make it a home while we've been here.  I cant wait to have a house to decorate!






trafficking and objectification

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If you've been watching/listening to the news this past week, you've probably heard of the FBI sweep that rescued hundreds of human trafficking victims and arrested 150 pimps recently.  This is an issue near and dear to my heart, and one that has been swept under the rug for far too long.
As I approach my wedding day, occurrences like this break my heart even more.  These young people come from homes where they feel unloved and unwanted, and they will deal with the repercussions of what has happened to them for the rest of their lives. More than likely, they will feel used, dirty, and unworthy for years, even if they are lucky enough to receive counseling and treatment (which isn't all that likely, since laws for human trafficking are only now being brought up and enforced like they should be, much less funding for after-rescue treatment.)  Will they be able to love themselves enough to allow another human being to love them, to tie their lives together?  Will they be able to find one who will look over their terrifying past and be strong enough to take on that burden?
It breaks my heart.
What breaks my heart more is that by doing nothing, we are the perpetrators.  By turning a blind eye, and by perpetrating an objectifying culture, we are responsible for letting this happen.
It's unpopular to point out because it has become so mainstream, but the porn industry is one of the biggest components of human trafficking.  For every "star" who is willingly making a living through pornography, there are two people who have been forced or coerced into appearing in this "entertainment."  When did entertainment become more important that human freedom?  When did this complete objectification become okay to the point where the broken families and broken people became just another unfortunate side effect?
My friend Sindy wrote a post about this that says more than I could on her blog (here.)  I encourage you to read it, and I hope that as this issue becomes more visible, our eyes as a society will be opened so that we can take steps to eradicate this horrifying crime.

I wish mermaids were cooler than they are.

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Summertime makes me think about mermaids.
When I was little, I pretended to be a mermaid in the pool.  I would flip my hair around trying to get that Ariel hair-fan effect (I never achieved it, but gave myself a couple of wicked neck cramps).  When I swam underwater, I would keep my legs together and fan out my feet like a fin.  
It was not a very effective mode of underwater transportation, I can tell you that.



However, I have since realized that I actually would not enjoy being a mermaid.  Like, at all.
Here is why.
1. I really, REALLY hate deep sea creatures.
They are slimy and yucky and weird.

I HATE FISH

look at that thing. LOOK AT IT. I WANT NO PART OF THIS.





Giant squid have beaks. beaks.  I can't handle it.  Swimming around with these freak shows is the last thing I want to do ever.  I mean, there are some nice ones, like manatees.  I love manatees.  But I just can't get over the squid.

2. The ocean is really cold.  And really dark.  Which are two of my least favorite things for a place that I am to be.  There is not actually a big glow in the dark castle nestled in the peaceful depths; there is a vent with a pseudo-volcano and huge fish whose heads light up and spongey slimy creatures everywhere. Ariel's castle is a castle of lies.

3. Salt water actually isn't good for your hair.  It would be all briny and crap when you emerged to sing to pirates.

4. Speaking of singing... it's kind of impossible underwater.  Maybe you could be known for your melodious sonar clicking, but that's about as close as you're going to get.

Also, according to the Discovery Channel, mermaids would look like this in real life:



NO THANKS.

Upon this careful consideration, I deduced that I would much rather be a fairy.  They get wings. And no squid.

Bridal Luncheon

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One of the many fun parts of getting married is all the uber-girly parties you get to be a part of.  After this I fully plan on making a point of hosting more fancy get-togethers (well, once Caleb and I have a bigger place where we can.)
These photos are from a bridal luncheon my wonderful friend Cathy threw for me on her back porch. Everything was so cute and the food was delicious! Most of these pictures were taken by my friend Amber, who's photography page has a link on my sidebar.  She also took our engagement pictures, and she's incredibly talented!


Apparently these blue mason jars are back at the Home Depot for a limited time - its the exact same shade as was used in the 60s when blue jars first had their heyday.  All you brides better go grab some fast!




All of our plates were antiques Cathy has collected through the years.  They're from the 1950s and 60s - they even have a place to put your cigarette!


This strawberry cake was THE BOMB



It was a lovely day with some lovely ladies :) Our friend Chelsea on the far left is getting married two weeks after I am, so the parties just keep going!







Beauty DIYS that Should Never Have Happened

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I really hate spending money on things I could do myself.
In the past, the list of things I thought I could do myself was much longer than it is now.  These are just a few of the "DIYS" that I thought would turn out a whole lot better than they did.

Rinsing my hair with ACV - I have since found out the right way to do this, but when I first read that rinsing your hair with apple cider vinegar would increase its growing power, I went a little nuts. Nuts meaning that I doused my hair with the stuff and smelled like it for the next 3 days (after showering again. That crap is potent.)
Apparently you're supposed to dilute it before you rinse with it and not leave it in your hair for so long. Now that I know that, I've been able to use it fairly effectively. 

Highlighting and Contouring - With the 8 bazillion tutorials circling Pinterest that exist for this makeup trick, you'd think I would be able to execute it fairly successfully.
No. No I cannot.
No pictures exist of this particular bronzing failure.  I'm not sorry.

Gradual Tanning - Yet again, a failure that resulted from not fully thinking something through before jumping into it.  PSA: This works tons better if you exfoliate first. Also, weird as it sounds, make sure that you apply it to the tops of your feet too. Otherwise you end up with a weird sock tan line.  Not cute. It doesn't look as bad in the photo to the right as it has in the past... but just trust me and don't do it.






Cutting my own bangs - To make matters worse, I did this right before my engagement photos. Most of the shots made it not so obvious, and they still looked great because Caleb is hot and our photographer was phenomenal, but there really wasn't anything to be done about my bang weirdness in this particular gem...
At least Caleb is still super attractive.

Some things are worth plunking over the cash for, it seems.



5 Things to Put on Your Wedding Registry

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When Caleb and I started registering for our wedding, we had no idea what we really needed beyond the typical stuff like a blender.  After a few showers and a couple registries, I feel like we have a good idea of what you need when you're starting out as a couple - you need your basics, but you can register for fun stuff too!

1. A vacuum - I had a crappy Shark that served well enough for my place, but our new apartment needs something more heavy duty (especially with Margo shedding everywhere). Even if you're in a smaller space that may not need as much cleaning, go ahead and register for the nice things you'll need to clean an eventual house - this is the only time everyone will be lining up to buy you cleaning supplies!

2. A nice blender - You can get a little cheap one for like 20 bucks, but on your registry go for the more upscale versions. They make a wider variety of things and they'll last a lot longer. Go for the fancier versions with every small appliance you register for so that you won't have to replace them in a year - and this is one of the only times that you'll have takers for those bigger ticket items.

3. Dishes - If you're combining two households, you probably already have lots of dishes, but go ahead and register for some nicer ones. You'll want them later on, and then you'll have ones that go together rather than a modge podge.

4. Bedding - You'll definitely need it, and its a great opportunity to get some high thread count sheets :)  We registered in neutral colors so that when we have a house we can actually paint, we won't have to buy new bedding to go with whatever colors we paint the master bedroom.

5. Camping Equipment (or other fun outdoorsy stuff) - This didn't even cross my mind until Caleb jacked the Target registry and registered for a bunch of outdoor equipment, but its completely acceptable to register for fun stuff! And your friends will be glad that you did; how much more fun is it to buy something like a tent or a bike than a microwave?

Which brings me to:
3 Things to Not Bother Registering For

1. A microwave - most apartments (and even some houses) come with them, and chances are at least one of you has one already.  Some may look fancier than others, but unlike blenders, all microwaves pretty much do the same thing. I would much rather save this space on the registry for something else like flatware or dishes.

2. Throw pillows - these go in and out of style so quick that whichever ones you register for you probably won't like in a year.  Plus, they'r really expensive for not a lot of utility.  Save some money and make your own - then they'll be unique and more economical.

3. Anything with "His and Hers" on it - this is more of an opinion... but I just think its kinda tacky.

On Alone Time

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I love being around people.  I love going to my friend's homes just to hang out, paint my nails and watch TV. I love tooling around town with Caleb.  I love playing Ultimate Frisbee with out church friends every Monday night and having big worship meetings most Wednesdays.
But I also love being alone.
Today I went to a coffee shop and had lunch, just me and a magazine.  I got a couple strange looks from people who couldn't figure out why I was there, who I was waiting for, who felt sorry for me being by myself.  I loved it.


If you put stock in such things, my MBTI type is INFJ (find out yours here).  The I at the beginning indicates that I'm an introvert.  That doesn't mean that I'm antisocial, dislike people, or am unapproachable.  It just means that I find peace in being alone, and that I need alone time to reflect and "recharge my batteries."
I think that I've always been this way, but I'm just now letting myself recognize and celebrate it.  In high school I was extroverted because I thought I had to be - we moved and I switched high schools right before my junior year, and I felt that I had to be constantly fun and exciting in order not to be forgotten by my new friends who had known each other for years.  I still needed alone time, but rarely did I let myself have it.
Thankfully, Caleb is also an introvert, so he understands when I need quiet time.  One of the great things about our relationship is that we can be alone with each other - we can be together and be quiet and peaceful and recharge.  One more example of how I am blessed, and one more reason to be thankful.
I guess the point of this post is to encourage you to find what energizes you - and do it.  If you are the social butterfly of your group and you're constantly exhausted, maybe it's time to go to lunch with just yourself and a book.  There's no shame in being introverted, just as there's no shame in being extroverted.  It takes all types.

5 Memes that Describe My Life

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When I saw this, I realized that I had been saying the same thing in my head for years.
Minus the YOLO, that was a fairly recent addition.


These days occur with alarming frequency.


As long as you don't mention Buffy, Dr. Who, or Stephen King, everything will be fine and our conversation will remain relatively normal.


I kid you not, there have been rough days where I have thought of this and it made it better. 
No, seriously.


If you want to be my friend, you will not do this.

That One Time I Accidentally (Almost) Cursed Over The Mike in a Children's Theatre Production

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Meighan at Heavens to Meighan is hosting a fun "that one time" link up here and you should all go play along because I had lots of fun writing out this story, even though it was soul-crushingly embarrassing at the time.
Back in the deezy, I was super involved in my community's children's theatre. Like, involved as in I auditioned for every play they did (and got in them, just saying), volunteered at the camps they put on in the summers, helped clean out the warehouse semi-annually, the whole nine. It was my life from 3rd grade to when we moved after my sophomore year of high school.

Here are a couple gems. This is a program from Sleeping Beauty. I was the witch. Thankfully they didn't make me wear the horn hat thing.
Being a talking apple tree in The Wizard of Oz. Is there a more cliche I-am-awkwardly-in-the-midst-of-puberty-and-still-want-to-be-onstage role? I think not.  I'm on the far right.

My "big break" came when I was 16 and it was announced that this summer, we would be doing Beauty and the Beast. Not the awkward made-for-school-shows one, either - the authentic Broadway script, complete with orchestra.  I was ecstatic.  I started practicing in July for auditions in February.  I wanted to be Belle so bad I could taste it.
All of that work paid off, because I got the part.



Yeahhh buddy.
We practiced for about 6 months, and opening night finally came around.  I remember actually being nervous, something that was kinda new to me - I guess I'd been doing it for so long that I didn't really get that nervous about it any more.
If you've spent time around theatre folk, you'll know that we're a superstitious bunch - don't talk about "The Scottish Play", don't say good luck, and know that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong on opening night.  If opening night goes smoothly, be afraid for the rest of your production.
Our opening night paved the way for a flawless run. Which means that opening was kind of a mess.
Not in a way the audience could pick up, necessarily.  At least my friends in attendance all said it was great (I have really nice friends.)
Just in things like people not doing their blocking quite correctly, a couple dropped cues, me putting on a dress inside out during a quick change. Nothing major.
Until the finale.
After some consideration, it was decided that I should be wearing the big yellow dress during the last number.  Which looked great, but gave me about a minute to get into it.  I also had a hair piece that I wore with it, because there was no time to actually do my hair differently.
As I ran backstage and jumped into my hoop skirt, a string broke and it went tumbling around my feet.  We were able to safety pin it, but not high enough to make room for the waltz I was supposed to do at the end (I just smiled really big and shook my head emphatically when Beast guy went in to dance).  That was fine, we could deal.
Now, before we get to the climax of this story, some background: The guy who was playing the Beast had his mike attached to the inside of his mask, so when he "transformed", he lost his mike.  The tech guys turned my mike up really loud to pick him up , but they usually waited until I was back onstage.
This time, they did not.
So I'm in the dressing room, with my mike on, unbeknownst to be.  And my slip has just broken, so I can't do my blocking for the finale.  Its ok, we're good.
But then, the momentous question that, according to my mother, echoed across the audience, ethereally emploring:
"Where's my hair?"
It had been left on the other side of the stage during a quick change, forlornly draped over a pair of antlers decorating "Gaston's tavern."
Thankfully, the tech guys recognized this question for what it was, the disgruntled demands of an already flustered leading lady.  They hurriedly switched my mike off.
Which was fortuitous, because the next word out of my mouth was not fit for the audience's ears.
(Bear in mind, I was 16. I have since cleaned up my language, and my personal life, but that's another post).
Everyone in the dressing room just kind of stared at me for a second. I guess it's not everyday that you see a Disney Princess in full regalia drop an auditory big one.
This rather rough opening paved the way for a great show run, and I absolutely loved it. Everyone involved in the Great Hair Debacle recovered.  We received no lawsuits and no one thinks I am terrible (as far as I know.)
The moral of this story?  If you're wearing a mike, be careful with your words.  Or better yet, just don't talk. Because you never know when that sucker might be on.