Winter White

I just want to report that there is a certain something about a cold, cloudy day. Grey clouds start to sprinkle a little wintery whiteness, a cozy blanket to cover Blacksburg. Nestled in the warmth of my townhouse, snuggled in a logo hoodie and sweatpants I gaze out at the winder wonder land outside my window. SNOW! I am so, very excited. How is it that this can make the most mature people turn child-like? Maybe because it is fluffy white powder begging to be romped about in? Maybe it is magic. I vote for a combination of the two. Maybe it is because tomorrow is a Saturday. SNOW. SNOW. SNOW.

Pictures of our blizzard to follow. =)

My old friend Baldwin...

Music has always been a big part of my life. Music is like food. Absence of it in your life leaves a hole. You can't survive without it. The same is why you spend so much of your childhood at your Grandparents' house. Because Grandma always has something cooking, and not just anything. It is her special recipe that is often imitated, but never recreated. Grandma knows exactly what spices to add, to avoid, how to fix burnt meringue or any fallen soufflé. And best of all, Grandma's food is inherently based on the culture of her own childhood. A New Orleans native, or as she says "Nawlins," my Grandma's specialty is cajun cuisine. Crawfish. Crabs. And of course the best of the best....Gumbo.

And recently I was able to rediscover myself, on the piano. As a child I took 11 years of lessons, got a little burnt out in high school. It was right at the time where life starts to pick up speed, and it is all you can do to hang on for dear life. I suppose the fact that this year, my life incurs another change whereas I have to leave the cozy nest of Blacksburg. So while at home, an old friend of mine and I reconnected. The best part about him is that he is always there, when you are angry, excited, joyful, or annoyed. He does not judge. His 88 ebony and ivories are like solid ground: a place to start over when it feels like life is ending. I picked a new song to plunk away at: 100 Years by Five for Fighting. And while this old dog is trying to teach her fingers new tricks, the old ones were always there. Old songs memorized for piano festivals, recitals and christmas gatherings fly out of my fingers' muscle memory. No music. No words. Just us. Me and my old friend Baldwin. He is nothing fancy, a dark-wooded upright with glossy mahogany finish. But we get the job done. On their website I found some of the most beautiful, and crazy pianos I have ever seen. For a pretty penny, $100 grand, *gulp*you could get any kind of grand piano you want! Even if you are into

zebra.... :D Like an animal hunting prey, I found holes in my schedule to spend in the living room bonding with my old friend Baldwin every day over Christmas Break. And now back at school, I am piano-less... and searching for a replacement.

what makes me smile

On rainy days where the temperature is not above 40* in a place where walking 15-20 minutes to classes from parking lot/bus stops is necessary, I wish there was actually a rain coat that would keep me fully dry. gah. Haven't found it yet. Note: Muck Boot Company's 'Hoser' boots I received for Christmas did hold up SUPERB today, and were warm & comfy too. A+ to you, MBC. So, to counter the gloomy, gray weather - I have made a list of things that make every word not just 'good' but FABULOUS.

-anatomy lab dissection....good [I know, I'm wierd! but they put me in such a good mood...]

-driving barefoot good

-red wine good

-Friday night good

-bubble bath good

-green mint ice cream good

-flip-flop weather good

-spa pedicure good

-underwear sale good

-convertible sports-car....good

-Virginia Tech football...................AMAZING!

Okay, so the last one is better than good. But all are things to make me, and hopefully you, smile on a dreary day. "And so shines a good dead in a weary world."

Awareness

Breast Cancer Awareness practices on Facebook make me laugh.

It is like our little female secret.

Day one: make your status your bra color/fabric

Day two: whoops missed it

Day three: put your shoe size plus the word "inches" and a :(

[You have no idea how many boys commented on that last one! haha]

Best part of it all...not allowed to tell anyone about it via your wall, and not to tell the male population. bwahaha. Fabulous. The bra color/fabric one even made the news =)

...and today's photo is one of my all time favorites. I literally just took this 'snapshot' at the beach of an old friend. We were getting up to leave for the day, sand between our toes and loads of stuff to tote back to the house. I want to say we were running around, as we were both energetic and youthful 15 year-olds at the time. The wind caught her hair, and I depressed the shutter, and BAM. Beauty came out. Sometimes the best things in life are absolutely an accident. <3

Back in Black

Through a University e-mail survey comes this blog topic. I proceeded to take this survey online. I only got to question numero dos when I was appalled not at the question, but the multiple choice answers. The question, you wonder..."What is your gender?" Easy as pie. One you have been able to ace since Kindergarden when girls sat in pink chairs and boys in blue. Girls wore pony tails and dresses and frills on their socks. Little boys in tiny khaki pants and polos with their tennis shoes.

And yet, the answers listed on cette particular survey: female, male, transgender, and other. Seriously. I can understand the first two - normal. Totally typical. The third, I could learn to accept. But other? What is that? Is that like how Michael Jackson [God rest his soul] went from the best singin' lil dark skinned Jackson in "A-B-C, Easy as 1-2-3" to the much paler grown up Michael? I mean fine, yes the Prince of Pop has his reasons, but still...OTHER?! I am perplexed. Completely and utterly confused. So must be any person who chooses this option.

On the other hand, back in Blacksburg, the oh-so-wonderful college town where the typical population consists of mainly 19 to 25 year olds. Safe-haven for party-hoppers and students alike. Shades orange and maroon never go out of style, and recently this season, neither does ....white.

Hunt Country

Gone are the days of summer.

Those staggeringly humid afternoons when I would crawl out from behind my air conditioned office desk at the Horse Center and into little "Whilby" (the affectionate name of my white '97 civic). Thankful for Honda's durability, thankful that my a/c has not burnt out just yet. Off to change and hop on a few hunt horses, new job I stumbled upon through a friend of a friend. As terrible as this employment opportunity sounds, riding was sometimes miserable in the heat and humidity of some July Virginia days. While others, like this easy breezy Saturday afternoon, prompted for a long trail ride and a definite morale booster. Even snapping photos with my amateur Cannon point-and-shoot. This was my favorite hill of all time. Galloping up or down. Made no difference.
And the view was not bad either. One of those places that takes your breath away, not once, but every time. Out in Rockbridge Hunt country, it was one of the best get-aways from the office in the world. (Then again, nothing beats a fall football game at Virginia Tech - GO HOKIES!) Stuck in the office again today - back to the drawing board attempting to get names, addresses and cover letters finalized. Can I just stay a 21 year old Virginia Tech student forever? Please!?

New Kicks

The most fabulous thing happened to me today: UPS dropped off a parcel I have been awaiting. And while I tromped about the greater richmond stores, I was searching. In and out of numerous stores, I tried on frivolous out-on-the-town-tops in every style, price, cut, shape and sparkly type, nothing felt right. I thought, maybe it is my hair. Bad hair days ruin me. Raised my chin to peer into the dressing room mirror. But no, new do and my makeup looked banging, if I do say so myself. So I wondered, what is the thirst that no local strip mall store dares to quench? When I pulled my exhausted civic into our drive, it was waiting, there, quietly on the cold brick doorstep. Small and white. Inside would complete me. Contents of that small and white package set my yearning at bay. Stepping into the new soles, they were unbroken. I smiled, looked around, and finally decided it surely was a beautiful day.

New Shoes.