Dorm Life.

I think I know now how my grandmother feels

trapped inside that retirement home

trapped inside

feeling so alive

feeling so dead

stuck inside

staring at the same four walls

staring down the same long hall

all the tenants waiting

waiting for a date

waiting for an ache

waiting for a jail break

at five PM when they may all leave their cells

and help themselves to some cafeteria pizza.

Some Good Walters for You All.

The name Walter is a good name. I'd actually have to say I've never met a bad Walter. This is the name that, if I ever have a son, I want to name him. And I mean that seriously, not as a joke. Many of you seem to think that Walter is not a suitable name for my possible child, so I have compiled a list of good Walters to prove my point.

Before we begin, get into the Walter mood with the Kinks.

Do You Remember Walter?

And... Go.

1. Walter Boggis from Wes Anderson's The Fantastic Mr. Fox. Also from Roald Dahl's The Fantastic Mr. Fox.

Walter Boggis is very fat. "He's got a head like the top of a boiled egg and a bristly, greasy moustache." (from Roald Dahl's book.)

2. Walt Disney.

Some of you may have heard of the creator of Disney, Walter Elias "Walt" Disney. Yes, indeed. There's a Walter for you.

3. Walter Leveille.

 He used to do my dad's job. And he's Scott's dad. And a good man.

4. Walter from Sleepless in Seattle

5. Jane Roommate's Uncle Wally.

He just got married.

6. Walter Cronkite.

The man, the legend. He is my favorite Walter.

7. Walter, Zac + Cara Settle's Meemaw's ex-boyfriend.

His squash is KILLER.

8. Walter Davis Jr.

He was an American hard bop piano player.

9. Sir Walter Raleigh.

He was an English aristocrat, writer, poet, soldier, courtier, spy and explorer who is also largely known for popularising tobacco in England.

10. Walter Egan.

Walter Egan is an American rock musician, best known for his 1978 gold status hit single "Magnet and Steel" from his album Not Shy. The song reached #8 on the Billboard Hot 100 and #32 on the Australian Singles Chart.

11. Walter Johnson.

Walter Perry Johnson (November 6, 1887 – December 10, 1946), nicknamed The Big Train, was a right-handed pitcher in Major League Baseball. He played his whole career on the Washington Senators from 1907–1927.

My Cup Runneth Over.

This is amazing.
This feeling that I have right now.
I have never felt such sheer, raw joy and peace. Especially not in a situation like this. I'm in this new place. I know no one. I'm alone. I'm without comfort.
And yet, I was just hit with such an overwhelming peace from God, straight from God, that I am in the right place, that He is gonna use me here, that He knows what He's doing. I'm so overwhelmed by peace and joy right now that I can't even sleep. I can barely keep from shaking. I just feel the presence of God right now, and I know that I am where He wants me.
I feel like I'm repeating myself, but you wouldn't believe how incredible this joyous moment is in the midst of the uncertainty and discomfort and loneliness that is welcome week.
I've even been questioning whether I am in the right place.
But right now, this moment, this overpowering, can't-contain-my-joy, peace-that-surpasses-understanding moment, proves that I can never question God's hand at work in my life here, where I am, at Belmont University.
I can't describe the beauty I feel inside of me right now.
My best attempt is merely this: My cup runneth over.

Banana Split.

Well. Hello from Nashville, Tennessee. For the record, if I ever refer to Nashville as "NashVegas", please publicly humiliate me.
Anyway. These last two days have been spent in devotion to making my dorm room lovely. Very worthy cause. And, let me just say, I don't think we botched it. Jane Roommate and I love what is going down in Room 438, New Hall South.
And I think you will, too.

Welcome..

Our key hanger that I painted.

This is my bed. It is where I sleep at college.
I made that quilt, in case you haven't been keeping up.

My windows.

I put another shot of my bookcase just because
I love it so much. It's so wonderful

Meet Chuckanucka, Ox, and Deer Ugly.
(From R to L)

My desk area.

This picture of me is above our window, guarding us
 from whatever danger may befall New Hall South.

Please notice the INCREDIBLE frame from Alicia Bishop.
It is probably one of the best gifts I've ever gotten.

My record player. Every college student's
 first basic necessity.

Jane Roommate's bed.

This is the lovely Bob Dylan (Robert Zimmerman) sketch
given me by Haley Rae Richter. It sits above our bathroom door.

Our huge shower. We scored a handicapped room, and
it came with this monstrous shower, a huge bathroom stall,
 and an unbelievably annoying doorbell.

And finally, meet Jane Roommate!

Well, goodnight from the Nash. I miss you, my home. Welcome to Belmont.

The Last Night.

Weird. That's all there is to it. My last night in my house as a permanent resident. There's so much in me I can't even identify it yet. I can't think about how much I will miss you people. All I can think about for this moment is how I will miss this house. And I know that's absolutely stupid. But that's it for now. The creaks and the silences, the calming presence of familiarity, my dad getting onto me for closing the door too loudly.
That's all for now. This house.
I think when the rest of it hits me.. whoa.

I Quilted.

Well. I did it. I quilted. A whole quilt. And this is it. This has been a really fun thing for my mom and I to do before I leave for college (Tomorrow, by the way).

But this is it. The quilt that will be on my bed in my dorm room.

So that you can see what the stitching is like.  My
 mom had the idea of doing these big stitches.
I think they turned out pretty cute.

To prove that I actually made this monstrosity.

Al Seier Lane.

I know that maybe this is stupid. And it's definitely sentimental and squishy. But, it is a little gift I wrote for my parents upon my upcoming exit from their loving care. So if you hate the squishy, don't read it. Here you are, blog world:

I remember crying the first night my family moved into a new house. I sat in what was supposed to be my new home, missing the blue walls and the cloud wallpaper of my old room, thinking of the times my dad would drag me around the old house by my ankles, listening to my shriek-filled giggles fill the air as my mom watched salmon croquets sizzle on the stove. The new house's layout was not conducive to such shenanigans. I sat there in my bed, knowing everything was changing, everything was different, everything was wrong.

But, days and months and years passed, and without my noticing, that strange house had become my home. The shades of blue on the walls changed to shades of green and beige, proving my mother lived there. The kitchen cabinets rearranged themselves to accommodate our routines, and re-rearranged themselves every few years. Salmon croquets still crackled and sputtered on the stove, and my shriek-filled laughter still filled the house.

Over these last twelve years, that house has been the place I come home to. In that house sit the chair on which i toss my backpack after a long day of school, the bed on which i sit and cry with my mom if everything's just gotten to be too much, the table across which my dad and i have had countless conversations.

And now, as I pace nervously on the brink of perhaps the biggest change of my life, i feel again like that first grade girl crying in her new room. Everything is changing, everything is different, everything is wrong. I've fastened myself into a routine here. Cemented myself into the comfort of living with my mom, my dad. Into the comfort of knowing exactly where to reach for a coffee mug in the morning, of the ever-continuing search for the pizza cutter, of my clothes smelling fresh and new. I've set myself up for failure, really.

What was I thinking? Running to my ever-caring mother with every pain in my stomach. Letting my understanding father rub my temples to chase away each migraine. Now I've no chance of survival on my own. There's no way I can do it. Everything is changing, everything is different, everything is wrong.

And though I'll probably sit on my new bed in my new room crying as i did twelve years ago, I know that with time, I'll learn where the coffee mugs are in the morning, and that you don't really use pizza cutters in college, and that all you have to do to get fresh clothes is throw in a dryer sheet. And I'll learn that all the different places I'll go in the coming years will become home under my nose, without my noticing. I'll learn that with each change comes a new normal, and with each new normal comes a new change. And all of these changes will add up to my life. And all of these normals will feel like home. But none so much as the cozy brick house doused with beige on the corner of Al Seier Lane.

Thank you, and goodnight.

Plans and Preps and Preps and Plans.

I've decided that the way I will decide which people at college will be my friends is this:
I will ask each person I meet what their favorite whale is.
If they answer with the name of a shark, such as hammerhead or great white, they will be my friend.
If they answer with the name of a whale, such as humpback or killer, i will spit on their shoes and walk away.
foolproof, right?

Class Skedge.

Just in case any of you are feeling like calling me. Now you know when I'll answer. Probably.


Monday.
8-8:50. Honors Research + Rhetoric.
12-12:50. Christian Doctrine.
7-9:30. Geography.

Tuesday.
9-10:50. Analytics: Science Models Lab.
11-12:15. Analytics: Science Models.

Wednesday.

8-8:50. Honors Research + Rhetoric.

12-12:50. Christian Doctrine.

Thursday.

9:30-10:20. Freshman Honors Colloquium.

11-12:15. Analytics: Science Models.

2-4:30. The Film Experience.

Friday.

8-8:50. Honors Research + Rhetoric.

12-12:50. Christian Doctrine.

Cause I'll Be Leaving in the Fall.

Well. This is it. 17 days til I move to Nashville. It's here.
And, at this point in time, I'm a teense spooked. A new town. A new school. A new church. A new people. Not my old town. Or my old school. Or my old church. Or my old people.
This is change. The most change I've had. As you may know, I was born and bred on Shades Mountain. So this is quite a leap. 202.91 miles, to be exact. I've got hops.
And in 17 days, I'm gonna close my eyes, bend my knees, and leap, full force into the thriving metropolis of Nashville, TN, and into the tulip-clad gazebo-ed lawns of Belmont University.
So, in preparation for this leap, I made a blog. This blog is for those of you still in B'ham who care about me. It is so that you won't lose touch, forget my face, my name, my smell. Well, I may not be able to preserve the smell thing, this being the internet and all, but, it's the principle. I don't want this to be like The Tallest Man on Earth said, "And I plan to be forgotten when I'm gone, cause I'll be leaving in the fall." The Wild Hunt. That link is the song. Listen to it if you like good music.
So Let's do this, people. Let's blog!