Reason I'm Excited For School (part 1)

I'm excited to go back to school for several reasons.

One being this:

Come one, come all.

When I Get Bored, I...

I feel like I should be honest with you.

I have a problem.

Of course, the first step to recovery is admitting it, right?

Let's pretend we are at an AA meeting.

"I'm Autumn and I am an obsessive-bored baker."

"Hi Autumn."

I said I was a baker. NOT a cake decorator.

All kidding aside, I have been in a baking craze this week.
I have baked:

a cake

Nutella brownies

Homemade Oreos

Cake balls

To prevent myself from consuming these treats, I have:

Thrown a party

taken brownies to work

taken oreos & cake balls to work

So I guess it's not too big of a problem. At least I'm not eating all of these delicious baked goods. Right?

Take Me Out To the Ballgame

Let it be known that:

Nothing says 'summer' like baseball.

Which is why the girls and I decided it was time to support this summer sport by going to a Arkansas Traveler's minor league game. I don't know too much about baseball, but the pants they wear are incentive enough to sit through a game. Ladies, can I get an amen?

Let it also be known that:

I ate a foot-long corndog,

lathered in ketchup and grease.

I suppose that says 'heart-attack' more than 'summer'?

Then, in true Arkansas fashion, rain clouds blew into a perfectly sunny late afternoon sky.

But,

let it also also be known that:

Like true fans/pant admirers, we sat in the rain and watched the game.

For about 20 minutes, anyway, before we decided to go see

Inception.

Let it also(x3) be known that Inception was very good. And confusing. And life-changing, if you're willing to go there. There being dramatic. Confused? You have no idea.

And then,
let it also(x4) be known that none of this actually happened.
I was dreaming.

Of the game,
the corndog,
the hot guy wearing the red shirt. (Remember girls?)





Except actually, none of it was a dream. It all actually happened. Inside Inception joke- that's what I like to call what I just wrote above the picture.

If you are confused out of your mind (if you even read this far), go see Inception. And then get back to me.

Let it also(x5) be known that:
I had fun writing this.

Miscellany Monday

1. Fail.

I haven't been running in 2 weeks. I can't bring myself to get out in this heat. Let's be honest, I sweat like a man as it is. And running in the morning is not something that could possibly happen consistently. I need sleep. Otherwise I get migraines. So see, no running for 2 weeks. Tonight I will change that.

2. College.

I am beyond ready to go back to school. So ready, in fact, that I have a countdown app on my iPhone. 22 days! I am ready to see my friends, walk around campus, go to chapel, and have my freedom back! Love you mom and dad.

3. Work.

I am off work for the next 2 days. Hallelujah! Not that my job isn't fun (see post below), but I have major plans for these Sonic-free days. Like seeing Eclipse (again) with my momma today and going to a Arkansas Travelers game tomorrow with friends.

4. The Runaways

I rented The Runaways last night, mostly because I love Dakota Fanning and Kristen Stewart. It was okay. A lot of drugs and girl-kissing, but they were a 70's all-girl rock band, so I guess that's to be expected?

5. Miscellany Monday.

This was my first time to link up for Carissa's Miscellany Monday. I certainly made interesting the mundane. Check out her blog to link up and to see some cute babies.

There was a flamingo at Sonic

This is where I spent my weekend

Sonic

"The customers always right."

A rule that has been drilled into my mind since I started carhopping 3 years ago.

Keeping that rule in the back of my mind, I grabbed a plastic red tray and proceeded to take out my next order.

Hamburgers, tots, the usual Route 44 drinks.

I hopped (pun intended) out to the customers car (smiling) and (politely) said,

"Hi, how are you?"

"Good."

"Ok, I've got a medium cherry slush, a -"

"That's supposed to be a large."

"Oh, ok, sorry about that."

I set the cherry slush back on the tray.

"Here's your medium cherry limeade, a -"

(Let's replace the F word with flamingo, shall we?)

"That's supposed to be a large too. Sh**, can't this Sonic get anything flamingo right?"

"I'll be right back, ma'am."

I turned and walked back inside, fixing her drinks and trying to remain patient. Hadn't she listened when the carhop read her order back to her after taking it?

I re-loaded her tray with large drinks and was back out the door.

"Alright, sorry about that. A large cherry slush -"

"That was supposed to be two medium cherry slushes and a large cherry limeade."

"Oh, sorry. When I handed you the cherry slush earlier I thought you said it was supposed to be a large."

"No, you handed me the cherry limemade first and I said it was supposed to be a large. Flamingo this."

Flamingo this "the customer is always right" stuff. It's overrated anyways.

"You didn't, but it's not a big deal, I'll just remake it."

"I can't flamingo believe this. It's flamingo ridiculous."

"Let me get my manager."

"Oh, flamingo."

I stormed back inside and slammed my tray down.

"Amy (manager), your gonna have to talk to this lady. She's cussing me out and I can't deal with it."

I explained the situation and Amy went outside and dealt with her.

Then came back in and told us how she fought her once.

I wanted to fight her.

I took out her fixed order, apologized, and got a $2 tip.

It was almost worth all of those flamingos.

And those are the types of peeps I deal with at my awesome job.

Jealous?

Capturing Summer Thursday (with complaints)

It's not summer without a large happy hour drink from Sonic.
Am I right or am I right?

Sorry about the bad-quality iPhone picture. Funny thing- I sold this camera because I wasn't happy with it. Then today, my point-and-shoot went kaput. Funny, right?

Ha-freakin-ha.

Pop, Lock & Drop It

My friends and I have never been "partiers."

Being from a ridiculously small southern hole-in-the-wall town, "parties" consisted of beer, a bonfire, perhaps in an open field, or to be fancy, a barn.

Yes, I wish I was kidding.

No, I am not.

Not our chic scene, might I say. While our class of high school morons were taking part in the field/barn/beer bash, we were reading Cosmo and painting our fingernails. We were feasting on cookie dough while they were drunkenly trying to tip a cow.

College wasn't much different (for me). I go to a private christian university, and while I'm not naive enough to believe there aren't any parties, I definitely don't hear about them. Or participate.

The only thing that could ever call me to party would be dancing. The girls, too. We love to dance. Funny thing is, I can't dance. I don't have too much expertise in the rhythm category, but I do it because it's FUN.

So while in Panama, we hit up (that's my gangster talk) a very popular club. One you might have seen on MTV's Spring Break special. Don't worry mom and dad, we did not participate in the wet t-shirt contest.

But we did dance. For hours. Two nights in a row, actually.

And we did make some friends.

And then, alcohol and drug free, we went back to the hotel and took a dip in the hot tub.

Which is very chic, might I say.

I just can't seem to close my mouth.

I have come to realize (recently) that I have a favorite "picture face"

Everytime someone pulls out a camera, my automatic reaction seems to be this:

It started at an early age.

What's your picture face?

The Real World (PVB & Lemonade)

I'm on the far left, in skirt.

Remember in high school when Friday would finally roll around? The feeling of excitement buzzing through the hallway was palpable. Plans to ensure an awesome weekend were being made and nothing would tame what you had planned for Friday night. Nothing.

But before you knew it, Sunday was welcoming you (as you kicked and screamed) and that sinking feeling would rise up in your chest. You couldn't even properly enjoy what was left of the weekend because, hello, school was tomorrow. The fun was over, and as always, The Real World was waiting for you at the front door.

That sinking feeling doesn't just apply to Sunday afternoons, I have come to find out. Not only is it the 'Sunday Afternoon Blues' - it's also 'Post Vacation Blues'

I first experienced PVB when I returned home from Utah. It was horrible. I walked into my dark and quiet house, wheeled my suitcase down the all-too familiar hallway and into my bedroom. I looked around, sat down on my bed, and wished wished wished to be back at Carli & Kevin's house.

A similar pattern of events happened on Saturday when we got home from Panama. I trudged to the front door, dragging my suitcase behind me. And there it was, next to my moms potted plants, waiting. The Real World.

I wanted to run (kicking and screaming, yes) back to the car and speed back to Florida. To the beach, to the fun times with my best friends. Alas, I realized Vacation's have to end, and I was glad that I didn't fear PVB while on Vacation, because you shouldn't fear PVB, because really, you should enjoy every second of Vacation.

(That sentence deserves an award.)

And the cure for PVB is easy enough. Get back in the groove of things. Wash your Vacation laundry, go back to work, routine routine routine.

And just know when you return from your next Vacation, there The Real World will be waiting. But don't be rude. Invite him in.

Would he like lemonade?

Pictures worth one-thousand words

My plan to update daily while in Panama was, well, an epic failure.
Quite frankly, I was having too much fun to worry about my silly computer.

I wish I would have updated daily for my own personal recollection, but you know what they say- pictures are worth a thousand words.

Thankfully, five girls with six cameras (I had two) means a lot of "words" that will certainly last a lifetime, as will the memories.

So what did we do? Woke up around 9 a.m. every morning and laid on the beach, swam in the ocean, picked up shells, and worked on our cannon bombs in the pool until 2-3 p.m. Then we headed upstairs, dolled up, and hit up Panama's night life. It's not MTV's Spring Break city for no reason. Let's leave it at that.

You should see how tan I am.

Flat. Busy, Tired, Tire.

Katie laying out

After leaving the hooker hotel we finished up the drive to Panama.

View from our condo


We went to the beach as soon as we checked out our room!

After beaching it up for a few hours, we came back to the room, showered, and got cute for the night. We planned on eating at Margaritaville but then this happened:

A flat tire.

We went to Walmart but they were unable to fix it, but they put the spare on. By then the line for Margaritaville was out the door, so we ate at Reggae J's Island Grill.

It was good!

More later.

Road Trip & Hooker Hotels

Sunday afternoon, me and four of my best friends (Kaylee, Morgan, Emma, Katie) began the 12 hour road trip to Panama City Beach, FL.

The road trip was like all others- loud, fun, complete with lots of snacks. And lots of road. Around 11 we decided to stop for the night in Pensacola and finish the drive Monday morning. Mistake.

What did five girls book because they had a really nice condo waiting for them in Panama? The Budget Inn. For the very low price of $45 dollars, we got:

1. The repulsing & nauseating smell of moth balls mixed with the heavy stench of cigarette smoke

2. A lamp, brown and stained

3. Disintegrating ceiling tiles

4. Hair in the shower. Not the kind from your head.

5. Did I mention the smell?

The smell. Oh, the smell. There aren't words to describe it. Overpowering fits best. We could smell it from outside before we even went in the room. Once inside, Katie gagged a few times.

None of us could breathe.

And let's be blunt, this is a hooker hotel.

And let's be honest, I probably contracted a viral disease.

Or at least Hepatitis.

Unable to sleep in our hooker room in our hooker beds, we talked until 3 a.m., "slept" and "woke up" at 7, and left.

You better believe we got a refund.

Or, maybe it was the Dr.Pepper

I didn't sleep a wink last night.

Maybe it was the excitement of leaving for Panama City Beach today.

Maybe it was my over-thinking mind.

Or, maybe it was the Dr.Pepper I downed after working the closing shift.

Around 3:30 I decided I wanted to go running. But I couldn't very well go at 3:30 in the morning. I decided 5 was a decent hour.

I stopped counting sheep and started counting minutes until 5.

At 4:45 when I could wait no longer, I rolled my stiff muscles out of bed and stretched my arms wide. My shoulders cracked. I touched my hand to my toes, holding the stretch and relishing in the delicious way my muscles burned.

I donned my running attire and headed out the door. The sky was dark but the air was buzzing. Birds were chirping and preparing for the day. Morning was upon us.

My arrival at the track went as usual; set water bottle down, mentally prepare myself, turn on RunKeeper, and take off.

I turned on a playlist of slow songs and set a steady pace, soaking up my run and enjoying the mornings first peaks of sunlight.

By lap 4, I needed some water. I gulped some down and went onward, my goal to at least hit 2 miles. By lap 5, I was salivating. A lot. My attempt at spitting landed on my thigh instead of the ground.

Saliva on bare thigh cannot, would not, will not stop this girl. Dare I say, beast? Cannot, would not, will not stop this beast.

So I ran on, finishing up and feeling like the true beast that I am.

I plopped down on the concrete, nursed my bottle of water, and turned on this version of To Build a Home. The sun was coming up, the sky was turning blue, and I felt God's presence all around me.

I longed for my Bible in that moment. To hold God's word and hear Him. Because I felt him, very real and very preset.

I really love morning runs now.

Maybe it was the beautiful sunrise.

Maybe it was God's peaceful presence.

Or, maybe it was the Dr.Pepper.

In case you didn't click the link above for 'this version', I have made it simple for you to listen.


If this was the last piece of music I heard before I died, I would slip away peacefully.

Elijah

My nephew Elijah, swimming at sunset.

Happy Saturday.

Blogging coming to you next week
from Panama City,Florida.

Opening the scrapbook...One Tree Hill

I am opening another page of my online scrapbook.

****

I am obsessed with One Tree Hill.

I have been watching it for years and have all the seasons on DVD.

And I don't want to brag or anything, but I really am the #1 fan.

I came to this conclusion because I traveled all the way to Wilmington, North Carolina (where they film this amazing show) last summer. To be thorough, I looked up the addresses for all of the filming locations.

Not stalkerish. Thorough.

(If you don't watch the show, this post will be absolutely useless to you.)

On to the tour!

Lucas and Karen's house, with Lucas's famous bedroom door on the side.

The Scott residence. I was hiding in the bushes for this shot, although I'm sure the family that lives there are used to people photographing their house.

Brooke's beautiful house!
"I really liked being the girl behind the red door."

Peyton's house.

I kept trying to picture Brooke and Peyton's cat fight on the front lawn. Looks small compared to how it did on tv.

What used to be Karen's Cafe but is now Clothes over Bros. This was in the middle of downtown Wilmington. I'm sure they love seeing them film all the time. I would!

The rivercourt. This was, by far, my favorite spot to visit. I stepped onto center court and felt so amazing. It was so cool- picturing all of the moments that happened there. So cool.

Tric, Peyton's all-ages night club.

Tree Hill High School, which is actually Cape Fear Community College

The famous bridge

Told you. I am the biggest fan.

****

More scrapbook openings to come...