Frankly Scarlet....

It's natural to need to explain things.

First of all, for those of you who bother to read this thing (maybe your cable is out or facebook is boring today) I apologize for my long leave of absence. I have been busy doing things like buying last minute gifts, attending christmas parties (some awkward, some entertaining) and yelling at my oh so slow computer to cooperate but apparently that has not affected it what-so-ever. So even though this is late, I hope you all had, as the British say, a happy christmas!

My christmas, as always, was interesting.

Christmas suprised me this year, like everything else has. Senior year has proved to be on some sort of illicit drug that causes everything to go 10 times faster than should be legally allowed, and these days I find myself often saying things like "It's december?" or "The first semesters over?" or "Tommorow's christmas!?"

I think I'm getting old. Or just losing all track of time.

A week before christmas, I was talking about Santa when Jabez informed me that he wasn't real.

If he's not real, where do all your presents come from? I asked him.

Natalie, he said like a frustrated father trying to explain where babies come from, I've know Santa's not real for a long time. I told a five year old on the bus he wasn't real! He started crying.

Apparently my brother has no soul.

Christmas morning, Jabez woke all of us up at 7 (which was an improvement from lasts year's 5:30, which to me was just more evidence that he has no soul).

My parents always make us stay up at the top of the stairs before we can come downstairs to check out the loot, and Jabez jumps up and down like he going to pee himself the whole time.

My big gift this year was a Flip Video, which I have fallen in love with, and as soon as I figure out how to post videos on this thing, I will definately be doing so.

My grandmother has been in ICU at the hospital for about three weeks now, so the Moseley Christmas this year took place in the waiting room at lexington hospital. My extremely loud (and slightly redneck) family took over the whole room, and the one other dude sitting in there as we paraded in looked like bambi probably looked before they shot his mom. Needless to say we scared him away, and we all exchanged gifts and opened presents like that was a completely normal thing to do in a hospital waiting room. She appreciated us all being there.

I'll just give you the sparknotes version of some of my favorite moments from this Christmas:

My aunt gave my grandma new knives, because hers needed replacing.

What are you gonna use those knives for Grandma?

To stab someone.

Apparently that's where I get my sarcasm from.....or at least I hope so.


For whatever reason we were discussing Gone with the Wind, and my dad couldn't remember the famous line from the movie.

Frankly Scarlet, I don't give a darn I said, censoring it for mixed company.

It's don't give a DAMN Natalie! said my 74 year old grandmother.

I love my grandmother. Also, she gave me a hotwheels for christmas.

The older I get, the more I realize how important moments like these are. As much as I may want to get away from the loudness and go read my new book or watch my new DVD, I can't imagine christmas without all this craziness.

Are you ready for 2010?

The Trenchies

Its natural to feel creeped out when you see a large group of people all wearing black trench coats.

I refer to this crowd as "the trenchies."

What is the purpose of a trench coat?

Unless it is raining, you are an active member of the mafia, you are a superhero that needs to quick change at every slight incantation of danger, or you are planning on flashing a crowd at a girls soccer game, I advise you leave them at home.

I mean, think of all the things a person could hide in those things.

These may include, but are not limited to:
A bomb
A large caliber machine gun
Several ninja stars of various sizes
A vile of H1N1
A small animal
A baby
A sandwich
A baby sandwich
A couple of water ballons filled with cottage cheese perfect for throwing at cars in traffic
Or worst, absolutely nothing.The list goes on, use your imagination.

Actually, thinking of things one can hide in a trench coat is entertaining. You should try it next time you find yourself in a long line or in a physics class.

Apparently trenchies enjoy the fine dining of Rush's. Maybe it's the milkshakes. For whatever reason, I have found thats where they like to hang out late at night.

I was recently eating there with some friends after we saw New Moon. Yes, I did see New Moon. Judge me if you will, but odds are you probably saw it too. Or are thinking very seriously about secretly renting it when it comes out. Or maybe I'm just trying to feel better about myself for seeing it twice.

Anyway, I was eating my bacon cheese burger when I spotted trenchie number one. Black trench, greased back hair, slightly bent forward, hands in pocket.

Stereotypical trenchie.

Trenchie number 1 was followed closely by trenchie 2, 3, and 4.

Trenchie 5 and 6 came in about ten minutes later.

As the trenchies paraded in, me and my friends scooted closer together. My heart beat a little faster. I think we were all suprised that trenchies would go to a place where a happy fat chief holding a burger welcomes you to eat.

I watched them all order, how they acted with the cashiers, and with each other. They acted strangely....normal. They left Rush's at the same time we did, so of course we walked pretty fast to the car and locked the doors laughing and breathing signs of relief that whatever was inside their trench coats hadn't been exposed to us. We watched them as they walked across the parking lot towards books-a-million.
Which happened to be closed, so I'm unsure of their motives in that perspective.

But as I look back on this, I realize that we were the ones creeping on them, not the other way around. We had creeped on the creepers. Oh the irony!

Maybe the trenchies are just misunderstood.

The world may never know.

Awkward Juice

It's natural to find yourself in awkward situations.

Picture this.

I'm in the grocery store with my mother the other night. Those of you who know my mother might have already begun conjuring a preconcieved story in your head involving expired coupons and a bag boy or two.
But fear not, this is one of the few awkward moments in my life where she has not been the main contributer to the situation.

My mission was to pick out some orange juice, which, theoretically should not be that difficult. But it turns out there are about a million different brands and flavors of orange juice (yes, there are different flavors of ORANGE juice) so it was taking longer than I expected.
As I was trying to decide between the pineapple orange Tropicana and the pulp free Simply Orange, I spotted one of the librarians from school coming up the aisle.

We've all been there.

The all too familiar conversation I have in my head when this kind of situation rears its ugly head goes a little something like this:

Do I want to talk to this person, or pretend like I don't see them? I definatley do not want to talk to this person. Okay, how can I get out of this without them seein..OH CRAP WE JUST MADE EYE CONTACT.

There are three main reasons why I did not want to talk to said librarian:

1) I had forgotten her name
2) I owe over five dollars in late fees
3) Our previous conversations typically went as follows:

me- I would like to check out this book please.

her-Okay.

click...click....(thats the computer)

beep....(Thats the checker outer thing that looks like a taser)

her-It's due in two weeks.

me- Thank you!

her-You owe over five dollars in late fees.

me- You have a nice day too!

I typically say that last part as I'm running out the door.

As you can probably guess we ended up talking and it was weird and all I wanted to do was go back home, drink my orange juice and watch Friends reruns.

But as I contemplate this specific episode of uncomfortableness, I wonder if SHE had that same conversation in her head when she spotted me. I mean, librarians are people too, even if they do wear unfortunate sweaters and want to marry Dewey (As in the Dewey Decimal System if you aren't up on your library references).

And if you know me, you know I have quite the intimidating physique, so I could understand if she was threatened meeting me outside of our safely guarded school and in the perilous grocery store.

Either way, I wish I was allergic to awkward situations.

Then I would have a medical excuse to leave.

But then again, whats life without a few moments lacking in dexterity?

Nazarene Squirrel

It's natural to think about the future.

Decisions. That has been the word on every senior’s lips these last couple of months, whether they like the taste or not. We are no longer promised another year safely tucked away in the halls of High School, identification badges around our neck and a hall pass in hand.

This, personally, is fine by me.

Recently, I visited Trevecca Nazarene University in Nashville, Tennessee. Being raised Presbyterian, I was unsure to the inner workings of this “cult” called the Nazarenes. Given that we both worship the same God (I think), I decided to give the school a try. I asked God whether or not Trevecca was somewhere I belonged. I figured getting accepted was a good sign.

We arrived at the church early that Saturday morning, and my weariness mixed with the annoying fact that I knew no one beyond my friend Jenna, put me in a mood as we loaded the church vans. I felt very much like Mr. Darcy. Our van contained a variety of characters, and I soon found that I couldn’t keep pretending to sleep. Two guys from Charleston, who referred to themselves as “big daddy” and “big nasty” provided the entertainment during the 8 hour drive. While I contemplated the largeness of these boy’s egos, and unwillingly, the origin behind their nick names, "big daddy" proceeded to inform me that he had a grand total of 10 Brittany’s in his contact list. He then prank called every one of them, pretending to be Radio. As in the movie, Radio.
Inappropriate? Maybe. Entertaining? I’d say so.

This is a public apology for all the Brittany’s of the world.

It was strange being the only non-Nazarene on the trip. I felt like they were all in a club that I just wasn’t apart of, like there was some sort of unspoken bond between all of them.

When we finally arrived in Nashville, we went straight to Trevecca to eat dinner and attend the basketball game. I was excited to finally get out of the van due to the deadly combination of teenage boys and Wendy’s chili. What is it with church vans having no ventilation at all?

As soon as I stepped foot on campus, there was this guy just sitting on a bench playing violin. There was something very beautiful about it. I immediately loved it. The campus was peaceful at night. You could see all of Nashville lit up with lights and the dreams of hopeful musicians. The next day we drove around downtown Nashville looking for Tim and Faith in hopes that they might adopt us.

We stopped at the Parthenon (which is just a replica of the real one in Greece) overlooking this huge park. People were playing music and Frisbee and reading.

It was very much my scene.

To begin our tour, the President told us about his first day at Trevecca. They had planned on placing a huge Jesus statue in the middle of the school, but only the pedestal was done when the president arrived.

Jesus was apparently getting some work done.

That night, some students got together and created a six foot tall paper mache squirrel, and placed it on the pedestal. The squirrel wore a sign around his head that read, “Jesus is coming!”
My next thought was:

Where can I sign up?

More thoughts on college to come.