A Hard Day's Night

"And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation." - Khalil Gibran

I found that out today. And I'm awake because of it now.


I moved to Byram yesterday. My parents, Steven, and I moved everything I own and then some up three flights of stairs in the sticky summer heat that I have grown to loathe as I've gotten older. I've decided the characteristic Southern heat is the culprit for a good chunk of the crime in this part of the country - people are just hot and miserable - temporary heat induced insanity.

I digress....


I'm already kind of settled in - almost everything is unpacked. But it's not home yet. I am impossibly sore from all the heavy lifting and my sleep is so off. (it's 2:19am as I write) I'm awake because of several things. The most annoying is that someone's car alarm keeps going off. The most unfortunate is that I'm heart sick. For the first time in a year and a half, I am separated from Steven. Two days ago, we lived together. Today we don't.Although it's been several weeks since Steven took a job in Oxford and I knew I would be moving to take my job in Terry, my heart wasn't ready for today. It took me months to get ready for this move physically. I have been so busy lately that I didn't prepare emotionally. What little preparation I had done in that area all got destroyed the second Steven got in his car to leave this afternoon. I felt like I couldn't breathe.


But can miles truly separate you...?


Good-bye's make you think. They make you realize what you've had and what you're losing, and what you've taken for granted. They make you realize what you'd change. They make you beg for the next hello.

As I was decorating today after he left, I put a picture of Steven next to my bed. it's one of those pictures where his eyes follow me and no matter where I are in the room he's still looking at me. If that was some old kooky picture of some aristocrat of yonder year in a powdered wig, I would have been terrified and probably chucked it off my balcony... but it was so comforting. Although I miss him more than anything, I'm reminding myself I'm lucky to have someone so amazing to miss. I'm reminding myself, but that doesn't make it much easier. This is a first for me. And I hope it's the last first. Otherwise you'll get to read more depressing 2:30am therapeutic literature laments from yours truly. I'll try to keep them to a minimum. I suppose blogging is better than having a conversation about my feelings with a bowl of brownie batter.




I'm saving that for tomorrow.




I miss you...

Erin

Post Hotty Toddy

It's been a while since I've written; I'm a little ashamed to admit that I'm really sitting down now to do it, not because I want to compose a cathartic, stunning jewel of literature, but because I reeeeeally don't want to start packing up this apartment. Yes, after two short, interesting, stressful,  wine-soaked, sleepless years I am picking up my tiny roots and re-potting. I'll make the move from Oxford to Byram in 28 days. I'm excited and nervous all at the same time. I already know I'm going to have to invest in a taser because I am terrified of things that go bump in the night and since I keep getting constant, albeit loving reminders that I will be living by myself for the first time EVER, my paranoia has skyrocketed. Towels on the floor turn into monsters and books on my desk turn into faces. I am 5 years old again. My mother's solution to that is to not have towels on the floor, but I'm paying the rent now, and if I want to COVER my apartment in dirty towels, it's my prerogative. I'll probably burn the place down if I do get a taser. Lucky for me I have renters insurance...purchased against my will.

Thanks, Norwegian. Your boat wasn't big enough to see.

In other news, I've now added thousands of miles to my vehicle and after my cruise, 3 more countries to my "10 countries in 10 years" list. 5 countries and 5 years to go. I still like Costa Rica the best out of all my travels, but I think if I could explore Belize a little more extensively, it might come in at a close second. Honduras was nice, minus someone trying to sell me shells, massages, cigars, little ships, sand, smiles and $60 taxi rides of death.

Steven, during said cab ride o' death

Even though I went to Ole Miss, this is admittedly my first toga party

Why not?

Cozumel was pretty and I'd be willing to give it a second shot, maybe even Costa Maya. But the most impressive thing of the summer was the cruise ship itself. The Norwegian Spirit left nothing to be desired (except maybe lower drink prices). I am ready to go on my second one already.

I guess that's all for now, no revelations, no wisdom... just checking in.


Happy Friday,

Erin

The Slowest Clock(s) on the Planet

The title says it all: I think I own the slowest clocks in existence. It can't possibly only be Thursday of this week. Someone in an otherworldly position of power is punishing me.

Or maybe it's just that phenomenon that happens when you want something so badly time just seems to stand still...Maybe I've just been too busy to notice that time is passing - just not as quickly as I'd like it.

So many things have happened since my last post.

1. My longtime best friend Claire got engaged, which caused an array of emotions, mainly a twinge of jealousy on my part...The source of this jealousy? Me wishing time would speed up until it's my turn. But I am insanely happy for her and can't wait to do all the wedding stuff with her (if she'll have me tag along that is :p ) I know she will be a beautiful bride and everything will work out perfectly. Hopefully, I won't be "Aunt Erin" for a looooong time.

2. Job interviews- what a frustrating experience that has been. While my other graduating counterparts submit resumes and smiles at their leisure, I've been reduced to chasing down references, begging for 5 minutes of their time to fill out countless character references, emailing links, praying for call backs, or some sign of life from some school district that doesn't issue bullet proof vests along with their contracts, and spending the larger chucks of sacred Saturdays filling out 15 page applications that ask me everything from my GPA, what I like to do in my spare time (is that even real? I want to tell them that what I do in my spare time is swim around in margarita bowls, trying to find solace, praying my kids will get nightly visits from a grammar fairy who softly whispers the difference between nouns and verbs in their ears whilst they slumber), to what I plan to do to foster diversity in my classroom (tacos for lunch?). My favorite interview question so far: "What would you do to calm an angry parent?" Pass them my bottle of Xanax and tell them it will all be okay.. Then join me in my margarita bowl swimming.

3. Deadlines - I firmly believe that when they aren't at home hanging upside down in their closets with their wings over their faces, our professors are plotting of last minute, not-real-world assignments for us to complete to see if we can "hang". Granted, some of them are legitimate (i.e. my 10 lesson plan/execution of said 10 day plan) but there are others that are questionable. Like the "electronic portfolio" that I'm only halfway done with that's already 135 pages, that a principal told me he had no time to look at and no interest in seeing. That's motivational. On top of strange Medieval literature readings I have weekly, I'm in the process of studying orthodoxy and heterodoxy in Le Morte D'Arthur. If you have anything to contribute to this fun little paper, I'm all ears. This is the only area in which my broken clocks seem to wake themselves and tick like time bombs. 

4. Graduation is looming. May 14th. 30 days and I'm free. Sort of. My parents are coming to Oxford, the place they've not only been hemorrhaging money to for several years, but also the place they've been bred to hate. The coonass in them both bleeds purple and gold. They don't speak Hotty Toddy; they don't sing From Dixie with Love; they don't subscribe to the believe that Oxford is the center of the universe. I've learned to forgive them. It's an Ole Miss thing and they just haven't been fortunate enough to attend this fine, upstanding party school. Ignorance is bliss I suppose.

5. The day after graduation plans? Drive to New Orleans (a 6 hour hop, skip and jump down I-55) and get on board the Norwegian Spirit for 7 days of pure, unadulterated, unschool/work related bliss. Three countries in 7 days (Mexico, Belize, Honduras). Eat your heart out, School of Education, I'll be getting my culture elsewhere, complete with a little umbrella and a disposition sunnier than this world will ever know until our Sun explodes. For those worried about me traveling to foreign lands in the midst of a drug cartel "crisis", I say to you: If the Lord wants be to die at the hand of a Mexican drug Lord, then that is my destiny and shall accept my fate with tequila in hand.


Then.... after all of that....


My clock will probably speed up to somewhere reminiscent of warp speed and won't ever slow down.. for the rest of my life.

Then I'll be begging for 10 day lesson plans and electronic portfolios and fruity drinks bedecked with umbrellas and anything else that will fit into a 16 oz cup. Maybe I'll beg for nap time.  I'll beg for a job that doesn't feel like I'm trying to herd cats. Maybe I'll just beg for 5 o'clock.

Only TIME will tell


Cheers,
Erin   

It's a Bittersweet Symphony, This Life...

"Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life
Trying to make ends meet
You're a slave to money then you die
I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down
You know the one that takes you to the places
where all the veins meet, yeah"
- The Verve

This is what I listened to on the way to school this morning...and it made me think. Not in that hard, analytical way that I have to do when trying to do complex math (NOTE: my doing complex math is to be avoided at all costs. I went to school for words, not numbers. Somewhere out there Patsy Giles is nodding her head in fervent agreement...), but in that easy, random-thoughts-lead-to-other-random-thoughts way.

Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life

It is bittersweet. I find myself doing the "random thoughts" thing often lately. My morning and afternoon commute afford me that inconvenience luxury. It makes me notice things. Like the fact that there was a ridiculous amount of jet plane traffic this morning. The evidence was left in the sky, marking multiple white, albeit fading, "X's" over the town of Batesville. This made me think about pilots - taking people where they need to go to do their various jobs, take their various vacations, and live their various lives. I wished that I was on one of those planes. Not because I'm sad, or lonely..just to add some spice to this mundane routine I seem to be getting myself in. Wake up, struggle to get out the door on time, inhalation of coffee, dash to the classroom, fail at stamping out ignorance, eat, sleep, repeat. As Belle from Beauty & the Beast laments, "There must be more than this provincial life."

When I got to school, to add a little detour to my so called provincial life, I did something I normally don't do. I greeted everyone I saw. Normally, I sign in, trying my best to avoid the principal and children under the age of 12, and hoof it to my classroom. For some reason or another, maybe after my extended pondering, I felt compelled to be cheery. No sense in walking around like someone spit in my Wheaties this morning (NOTE #2: I NEVER eat my Wheaties...I find them to be an extra disgusting food-like excuse for a cereal. I liken it to chopping up hay and soaking it in milk. Does that sound like a breakfast of "Champions" to you? No, it does not). As I passed people, I realized that when I spoke to the custodian in the lunch building, I didn't know his name. One of the most important people in the school, the one who keeps this school immaculately clean (they mop EVERYDAY here. When I was in high school, we were lucky to have the floor swept once a week), gets the least recognition. I felt a little ashamed - then resolved to ask his name next time I pass him. Cynical and hard hearted as I may be sometimes, the older I get the more I understand that my word cannot go 'round without the people, named and unnamed, in it. I think I want to make it a goal to get to know those unnamed ones a little better and let them know that I appreciate them. I'm thinking (that seems to be my theme today) that maybe not a lot of people take the time for that. No one likes to feel appreciated more than I do, so I feel like I should be paying it forward, so to speak. My day has been strangely more enjoyable already. Humanity is something we have to live with, be a part of, and place hope in. Jack Johnson says we're just a bubble in a boiling pot. He's right.

We all have roads to travel. Physically and metaphorically. We all have to work together to make this world spin. We humans are just that - human. I think in general, people are just doing the best they can with the best they have. Learn to appreciate struggle, adversity, inconvenience. It makes the things you celebrate that much sweeter. I often find myself repeating this little gem of wisdom, offered by Sally Qwong, over and over in my head:  "Is it going to matter in 10 minutes? 10 days? Ten years?" Life is about the little things - I think that is easily forgotten. So as you go along with your day, take an extra second and think of someone who has helped you. Maybe it's the person who made the computer screen you're looking at. Maybe it's the person in the car who let you go first at a stop sign when they had the right of way and you had to be at [fill in important place that may or may not matter in an hour] and you were already 15 minutes late. Maybe it's the person who gave you a dime when you didn't want to break that $20 when you were at Walmart. Maybe it's none of those. But there's always someone. Appreciate them.

I recently read a story in which a grandfather said something pretty profound to his grandson. I feel it's an appropriate close to this rant, lecture, whatever this is.

"You always complain about the red lights, but you never celebrate the green ones."

Carpe Diem,

Erin

All I Really Need to Know...

Life is not complex.  We are complex.  Life is simple,
and the simple thing is the right thing.
- Oscar Wilde

I think everyone has read or at least heard of "Everything I need to Know I learned in Kindergarten" or whatever it was called. I used to have a poster with all those little gems of knowledge on it. Sometimes I wish I had it back. I often find myself wishing, longing even, for nap time. Especially now that I am on my feet 7 hours a day screaming at children. Snack time is now shoving a banana, or this week a cough drop, in my mouth between classes, nap time is replaced with a few moments of alone time during my planning period, and my commute is the only time I have to center and get my thoughts together. My new bedtime (8:30ish)  is earlier than it ever was in grade school (10:30ish) and I don't even want to look at the clock in the morning and see the number "5" beginning my day. I wish I had the last 3 and a half years to do over again. There are definitely things I would change.....

But....(you knew it was coming)

I can't

So I have to make the most of what I have to work with and make each day (and some days, each hour) count. When I sat down to write, I had nothing on my mind but how long it would be until I could take a nap. Which led to thoughts about what I have to do today, this week, this month, this semster. When I reach my breaking point, I, or the unfortunate souls enduring my wrath, often have to perform a reality check. It is then, on occasion, that my mind wanders back to the simplicity of kindergarten...

and I think... does it really have to be so complicated now?

I don't think so..

Stumbleupon.com (my new guilty pleasure) showed me what I needed to see today... I came across a list on a blog called "Marc and Angel Hack Life." It was here that I discovered a grown up, revised version of the things I learned in kindergarten:

1. Don’t try to read other people’s minds.  Don’t make other people try to read yours.  Communicate.
2. Be polite, but don’t try to be friends with everyone around you.  Instead, spend time nurturing your relationships with the people who matter most to you.
3. Your health is your life, keep up with it.  Get an annual physical check-up.
4. Live below your means.  Don’t buy stuff you don’t need.  Always sleep on big purchases.  Create a budget and savings plan and stick to both of them.
5. Get enough sleep every night.  An exhausted mind is rarely productive.
6. Get up 30 minutes earlier so you don’t have to rush around like a mad man.  That 30 minutes will help you avoid speeding tickets, tardiness, and other unnecessary headaches.
7. Get off your high horse, talk it out, shake hands or hug, and move on.
8. Don’t waste your time on jealously.  The only person you’re competing against is yourself.
9. Surround yourself with people who fill your gaps.  Let them do the stuff they’re better at so you can do the stuff you’re better at.
10. Organize your living space and working space.  Read David Allen’s book Getting Things Done for some practical organizational guidance.
11. Get rid of stuff you don’t use.
12. Ask someone if you aren’t sure.
13. Spend a little time now learning a time-saving trick or shortcut that you can use over and over again in the future.
14. Don’t try to please everyone.  Just do what you know is right.
15. Don’t drink alcohol or consume recreational drugs when you’re mad or sad.  Take a jog instead.
16. Be sure to pay your bills on time.
17. Fill up your gas tank on the way home, not in the morning when you’re in a hurry.
18. Use technology to automate tasks.
19. Handle important two-minute tasks immediately.
20. Relocate closer to your place of employment.
21. Don’t steal.
22. Always be honest with yourself and others.
23. Say “I love you” to your loved ones as often as possible.
24. Single-task.  Do one thing at a time and give it all you got.
25. Finish one project before you start another.
26. Be yourself.
27. When traveling, pack light.  Don’t bring it unless you absolutely must.
28. Clean up after yourself.  Don’t put it off until later.
29. Learn to cook, and cook.
30. Make a weekly (healthy) menu, and shop for only the items you need.
31. Consider buying and cooking food in bulk.  If you make a large portion of something on Sunday, you can eat leftovers several times during the week without spending more time cooking.
32. Stay out of other people’s drama.  And don’t needlessly create your own.
33. Buy things with cash.
34. Maintain your car, home, and other personal belongings you rely on.
35. Smile often, even to complete strangers.
36. If you hate doing it, stop it.
37. Treat everyone with the same level of respect you would give to your grandfather and the same level of patience you would have with your baby brother.
38. Apologize when you should.
39. Write things down.
40. Be curious.  Don’t be scared to learn something new.
41. Explore new ideas and opportunities often.
42. Don’t be shy.  Network with people.  Meet new people.
43. Don’t worry too much about what other people think about you.
44. Spend time with nice people who are smart, driven, and likeminded.
45. Don’t text and drive.  Don’t drink and drive.
46. Drink water when you’re thirsty.
47. Don’t eat when you’re bored.  Eat when you’re hungry.
48. Exercise every day.  Simply take a long, relaxing walk or commit 30 minutes to an at-home exercise program.
49. Let go of things you can’t change.  Concentrate on things you can.
50. Find hard work you actually enjoy doing.
51. Realize that the harder you work, the luckier you will become.
52. Follow your heart.  Don’t waste your life fulfilling someone else’s dreams and desires.
53. Set priorities for yourself and act accordingly.
54. Take it slow and add up all your small victories.
55. However good or bad a situation is now, it will change.  Accept this simple fact.
56. Excel at what you do.  Otherwise you’ll just frustrate yourself.
57. Mature, but don’t grow up too fast.
58. Realize that you’re never quite as right as you think you are.
59. Build something or do something that makes you proud.
60. Make mistakes, learn from them, laugh about them, and move along.

Here's to simplicity,
Erin

Freaky Friday

I'm sitting here, Kleenex in hand, fighting a sinus infection, on my planning period. Today has been strange... everyone is being....mysteriously well behaved. I keep waiting for a bomb to drop or a freak tornado to pop up. It's unnatural.

Yesterday, I had my first experience with a child throwing up in my classroom, reaffirming my choice to eventually teach college. I am not made to handle people who cannot control their own bodily functions... but I digress.

So many days this semester I have woken up at 5:30, an hour unseen by my eyes for 4 years now, to make a 45 minute drive to Pope Middle School where I am doing my student teaching. To be honest, when I got my assignment last semester, I was less than happy. I had done observations in middle schools before, and let's just say it wasn't my cup of tea. If there's one thing I know about myself, it's that I don't tolerate certain types of people very well. One of those types of people is "tweeners" and now I get to see 120 of them everyday. I don't remember ever being in a state where I didn't know if I was a child or an adult or whatever this age is dealing with. Not to say that I didn't - I just don't remember it, ergo, I have a very difficult time tolerating a lot of the traits kids this age possess. I understand now why people say they like babies and older teenagers. This age is miserable and hormone-ridden. Having ranted about that, there are a select few that I enjoy talking to. I am starting to warm up to them and some are warming up to me, but like most things, tolerance is taking it's dear sweet time finding me. Today has definitely been a day that is reassuring.

Because I can't readily think of some horrible mishap today (other than the kid that puked) I decided to take a page out of fellow blogger Casey Bonner's (click here for her blog) book and include a list of funny analogies taken from actual high school essays and collected by English teachers across the country for their own amusement. Some of these kids may have bright futures as humor writers. What do you think?

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free. (this made me laugh out loud)

3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef. (or taco bell "beef")

5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine. (I want to teach this kid)

9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.

10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30. (This is obviously from an essay by Rainman)

12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease. (who does this?)

14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.

16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.

18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.

19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do. (Stealing this at some point in my life.)

20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.


Happy, albeit freaky, Friday,
Erin

Ship Island

            If I am correct, there should be about three versions of this story floating around. Mine will be from the driver’s  perspective. I will give the version of the story from car number one, which included Claire, Lisa, Sagan, Claire’s friend from MC, Kaleb, and Jason Gault. Car number two included Mary Jane, Robert, Jessica Gibson-Adams, and her at-the-time-boyfriend, Stuart.

            The night before, Sagan stayed at my house, because we all knew she would never have gotten up on her own. I could not sleep. Sag made weird noises in her sleep, and kept claiming that there was a bug in the bed. Simply not true. Anyway, I got her up at around 4:45 a.m. because she is hard to get up. I had told Claire I’d be at her house at 5:30. After getting a call from Jason saying he ran out of gas, Sag and I went to pick him up. He’d pushed his car “over a mile” to a daycare. We left from there to get Claire. I pull up in the driveway and off we head to our third destination of the morning, and general meeting place, Lisa’s.

            All is well at Hedges’ residence, though Stuart is late. Probably looking for his insulin. We pack up and I end up driving Lisa’s mom’s car. We set Garmin to Biloxi. Everything is good. We end up having to pick up Claire’s friend in Hattiesburg.
Approximate driving distance to Hattiesburg: 1 hour
Place: McDonald’s.

Here is the conversation that ensued as we waited on Kaleb:

7:27 – Erin:  “Is he on the way?”
            Claire: “Yep. Just called.”

7:28 – MJ :(from the other car) “WHERE IS KALEB?! WE ARE GOING TO MISS THE FERRY!”
            Erin: “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.”

7:30 – The same conversation happens
7:31 – The same conversation happens

7:35 – Erin: MARY JANE. I WILL TELL YOU INFO AS SOON AS I GET IT!!!!!!
            MJ:  Stop being a bitch Erin. [Everyone in Erin’s car nods in agreement behind my                                    back.]

7:45 – Kaleb pulls up, I scream at him to jump in the car.

7:45 - everyone  now  hates  me.

            We leave Hattiesburg and I floor it. We have a boat to catch. On we drive. Somehow, because we do not pay attention to Garmin, we end up taking a wrong turn. Earlier I had complained to Robert that he was driving too fast and that “I was not driving 100 miles an hour to keep up with his hind end.” In reality it was a little more colorful. Now it was my turn to play NASCAR. We were on some highway. Meaning not on I-49, meaning, not on the right road. I thought we were gonna die, get a ticket, or worse case scenario, miss the boat. Steam is  shooting out of my ears. Lisa is in the passenger’s seat, reduced to singing me lullabies in order to soothe me. I want to kill kittens. To save a lot of ranting, we ended up back on I-49 and our ETA according to Garmin is 9:05. More speeding. I set the cruise on 90. Civil disobedience is fun. Ask Rosa Parks. Soon we realize we are headed to the wrong end of the coast. GREAT. This, however, turns out to be a blessing in disguise. It shaves 15 minutes off our trip. We should get there in time.

     We pull up in the parking lot. I consider buying a pack of  cigarettes, but refrain. I jump out of the car, get spread eagle on the ground and kiss the land under my face. I hate driving. I am nervous.. I feel like I need to scream.  Instead, we go to the dock and get our tickets about 2 seconds before the boat whistle blows.

            An hour later the boat docked and we got off and set up camp. It was sunny. I had sand between my toes. Everything is right. Sort of. Everyone lays out a while and then we finally make our way into the water.  

            At this point in the day, everyone notices that I somehow forgot to put the cups back into my bathing suit top. Mary Jane announces this to everyone. I thank her for pointing out my nipples. To the entire island. I find it prudent here to say that no one has pointed out, until now, that I have been walking around for several hours with smut black makeup all over my face. A big thank you to my Mary-Kay consultant, for selling me non-smudging-except-at-the-beach-when-you-need-to-look-your-hottest make up. Mmmmm.  I decide to take a break from my fellow humans and do what I do best. Eat. I walked back to our little camp to find three things:

            1. Someone ate all my sandwiches.

            2. Someone drank my mt. dew

            3. Sand now covered EVERYTHING I brought with me. (I know, it’s the beach. Go figure)

At around 1:30 we head back to the boat. Once on deck we lead a rousing chorus of Santeria and then other various Beatles songs. Not many people join in. We are displeased. Back on land we say how fun it was and all that jazz. I am not looking forward to getting behind the wheel again. We get 5 minutes down the road. Jessica calls. MJ’s car won’t start. Fabulous. We turn around. I get out in a parking lot in my bathing suit to put on more clothes. Little do I realize that I am in front of a huge window. People inside think I am in underwear. Yay. We end up not turning around. We stop in Hattiesburg for ice cream and to drop Kaleb off. We park outside of a Chuck E. Cheese at the mall and act creepy. A guy at the window keeps an eye on us. We obviously look like child molesters. While Claire and Kaleb run into Forever21, we get hungry and drive through Burger king.  This hilarious event has now come to be known as the "ketchupmayopickles only" story. I won’t tell you about it all, because, lucky you, I have a video. The short version is Sagan got 11 pickles on a burger she didn’t ever order. And got charged $11.

   

            We make it back to McComb, safe. Everything has returned to a state of acceptable state of calm. Sag, Jason and I drop Claire off and head to get Jason’s car. We drop him off


About ten minutes later, we remember: He didn’t have any gas…………