City Places and High-Rise Spaces

I'll admit it wholeheartedly and without shame: I'm a city girl.

Despite my country girl tendencies to want to constantly have dirt under my finger nails from gardening, enjoying growing my own food, loving walking through fields and forests, loving hiking through miles of mountains, and wanting to live in a cottage in the middle of a pine forest, I have far more city tendencies than country tendencies.

I live in a lovely city, however it isn't the kind of city that I so much prefer. I love big cities. Flashing lights and skyscrapers, eclectic people groups and styles, museums and history on every corner; indeed, cities are my favorite and always will be.

I don't get to go to real big cities very often; perhaps two to four times a year. But I will spring at any chance I can possibly get to see the city skyline of some lovely place like Chicago. In April, I got the chance to go to a big city. The big city of the South: Atlanta. I go to Atlanta relatively frequently, but its almost never just to hang out and have fun. However, this time it was. My cousin, Macy, is a senior in high school this year and she wanted to have a senior trip. The destination: Atlanta.

Macy discovered a month or so ago that The Fox Theatre would soon be presenting Les Miserables, so she bought tickets for four, and we planned a trip up to Atlanta.

We arrived in Atlanta late in the afternoon on a day in late April, and went up to our hotel, which was right across the street from the Fox. Macy and I, admittedly, are not exactly used to acting upscale, high class, and rich. Trying to pull it off when walking in and seeing this was difficult:

As neat as I suppose it would be to be truly swanky, I don't think it would be nearly as much fun. When you're rich and often exposed to fancy architecture and cool big city adventures, I suppose things like this wouldn't take your breath away as much. You wouldn't take as much pleasure in it. So although I may want to act swanky, I don't think I ever would want to be that way.

We walked into the hotel, dressed up for our night at the Fox. I always greatly appreciate going into places like this, because I get to see those truly big city people. Somehow I think I've always had a fantasy about being the wife of a big-business, big-city guy and being that woman who walks around in her business skirt and black pumps in fancy hotels. And in this kind of hotel, you see those kinds of women. I've always loved how neat and professional they look, and imagined that I myself might be that schnazzy one day.

These nice, lovely men carried our bags upstairs for us (so nice to not have to drag my hundred pound bag stuffed with half of my belongings up 14 floors), and we got to look around our hotel room a bit before heading out to dinner.

{this was just the living room. we also had a kitchen, bathroom, and two bedrooms!}

After examining our room, we went downstairs to go find a restaurant. Once outside, we walked in a big circle only to come back around to the front of our hotel, when we saw an Italian restaurant diagonally across from our hotel, and decided to head in there since we had almost no time to eat before the show. Once we got in, we had to wait for a while, but once we got our seat, everything was super quick. Our waiter was a nice young man who was very professional and quick to make sure we got our meal and got out the door before the show started. I ordered the best salad I've ever had in my life. Most restaurants? Hello cheap iceberg salad. This restaurant? I got the fanciest salad made entirely of arugula with this awesome lemon dressing on top with cheese and some other fancy toppings. It was delish, and I have to admit, I felt pretty schmancy eating an arugula salad. 

After we finished eating, we walked up half a block at the most to the Fox theatre, and sat down probably 20 seconds after the show had started - we barely made it in time. It was absolutely excellent! Despite the fact that we were sitting in nearly the back of the theatre, it was a wonderful show. The singers were incredibly talented and the props and movement were wonderful. Eponine was definitely my favorite, tho  Jean Valjean can hardly be ignored. Everyone was absolutely wonderful!

However, after a three hour long show, I was quite ready to be headed back to the hotel, which thankfully was right across the street. We headed upstairs and Macy and I got some pictures outside on our three inch wide balcony that we could barely fit on.

The next morning Macy and I had planned on going up to the roof top pool and swimming for a while, but we had gotten to bed so late after the show we just slept late. After we got up we headed downstairs to a restaurant they have in the hotel, whose fruit, I might add, was delicious but ridiculously overpriced. Despite their overpriced fruit, everything was amazing; I had the most delicious french toast I've ever had in my life, and I even tried a raspberry for the first time. (and yes, I hated it. seriously, who eats those things?)

We sat outside for a bit and then we went up to the rooftop pool. It was quite lovely: there was a pool in the lower part, and then you could walk up a few stairs for a spectacular view of midtown Atlanta. We were quite close to the tallest building in Atlanta which excited me profusely. I do love skyscrapers quite a lot. Macy and I proceeded to take several pictures up there as well:

After our adventures up on the rooftop (and as Macy and I will both attest, there were indeed some adventures ;), we went back down to our room to pack up and head out. I must say I'll miss that hotel more than almost any hotel I've had the pleasure of staying in. Especially considering the fact that one of my favorite authors, F. Scott Fitzgerald, had stayed in it once. I do love old, swanky hotels.

After heading out of the hotel, we proceeded over to The World of Coke, where we tried a ridiculous amount of flavors of Coke products from around the world, most of which, I must add, were absolutely repulsive. I think I'll stick with my every day bottle of Coke.

We grabbed lunch (and got to watch a bunch of people learning how to ride a segway.... and as Macy so astutely put it, they looked like rolly pollies) and then went to Dillards to shop a bit. I found a really cute dress in the junior's dress department which I got for eighteen bucks. My thrifty mother has taught me well. I know a deal when I see one, and getting a dance dress for eighteen bucks is most *definitely* a deal.

After our outing at Dillards, we decided it was about time to head back. But before we did, we stopped at a Midtown Starbucks (um. can we say dream work place?) to grab a snack and some coffee. I got my usual iced chai tea latte, and my mom and I split our usual old fashioned doughnut. We sat outside and snagged a few more pictures before heading out:

 {I think at this point I was catching on to the whole swanky thing.

Don't you think?

really?

No?

okay...}

After our adventure to Starbucks and getting wind blown into our face, coffee, and food, we headed back out. We had had a lovely time, and I'm not sorry to admit that I pined away for at least fifteen minutes about wanting to live in a high rise apartment.

In fact, I determined after leaving that once I finish college, I'm going to live in a high rise apartment in Atlanta, get a cat and name it Cashmere, work in a Starbucks, and go to art museums all the time. Good? Good.

As strange as I might sound when I refer to Atlanta and any big city, it really can be explained. I lived the majority of my life in two ugly little towns. However, when I was seven or eight, a love for big cities and travel entered my brain, and ever since it has grown. Going to Chicago when I was eight didn't help anything. I remember that vacation as the best one I ever had. From a young age my love for travel has grown, and my love for travel includes big cities. 

Big cities have some kind of a hold on me. Like I said previously, although I do have some country girl tendencies, the big city has some sort of grasp on me. I can't explain what it is exactly. I've always loved different cultures, ideas, and fashion, so I know that that is part of it. But there seems some kind of mystery of a big city: how everything and everyone fits together in some ridiculous yet artful conglomeration. How history, art, culture, ideas, businesses, celebrities, average Joes, music, and life somehow mix into this great place where skyscrapers abound and there is never a moment when there isn't some movement of life. 

I suppose that is part of why I love a big city so much. Everything and everyone is always on the move. It's in a constant state of change. And although I don't like some change, I do love other kinds. The kinds you see in cities. New ideas, new faces, new opportunities springing up on every corner of the sidewalk. Inspiration galore. It's a lovely place for an aspiring writer, photographer, and art historian to be. 

A big city, to me, is a piece of art in and of itself. Art tends to revolve around a story, history, an idea, a person. A big city revolves around all of those things and then some. It's abounding with all of them, and coming up with new ones every day.

Big cities are lovely places. They will always have a hold on me. They will always catch my eye. They will always make me want to hold on to them a little bit longer, explore them a little bit more, and watch the movement pass by. Those movements pass every moment and if you don't catch them at that exact second, they'll be gone forever. Oh the moments of a big city: they're entrancing and beautiful. Elegant and mysterious. And if no one else misses them, I will. I'll wish I had seen them before they passed. I'll wish I had been there before they were gone. But I'll imagine them. Wish for them. And perhaps one day, I'll create some of those little moments that make up a big city. 

Every city is a living body.
{st. augustine} 

Coffee Shops & Plaid Shirts - BEDA #11

a short story


I have a deep love for coffee shops. Especially local ones that hold truly the most intriguing people in the world. Local coffee shops have so much character. Mine is a lovely place with a deep soul and sense of classic. There is a lot of messy modern art, and the colors are a nice shade of hipster mixed with 70s. They play Jack Johnson and John Mayer. Occasionally a man with a banjo will come and play in a corner. I remember it was the first place I ever really encountered hipsters. I didn't even know what they were called, I just loved their type. They intrigued me. I loved watching them, and still enjoy watching them. Indeed, my coffee shop is just my favorite place in the world.
I went there with my cousin recently. She and I enjoy hanging out together at chill places like that and having ridiculous conversations that no one else would understand, they're so sprinkled with inside jokes. We went in, and as I walked in, I saw him. The second I saw him, I started imagining stories about him. I do that with interesting people. On occasion, and it isn't very common, I will see a person and immediately start coming up with stories about them in my head, because they seem like such interesting characters - different from most people you see in the world. Intriguing. Fascinating. Different. And suddenly my mind is captured. He was one of those humans.
My cousin and I went up to the front to order our drink and dessert, and then crawled off to the comfy chairs in the shop. We sat down and began noshing on our food, when I suddenly realized I was facing the young man who I had noticed when I walked in.
There was something different about him. He was sitting at a table with his Mac open, occasionally chuckling to himself. This immediately hinted to me how down to earth he was. You see almost no one at a coffee shop with their laptops open laughing to themselves. It reminded me of myself, and that, of course, intrigues me. He wore a blue and white plaid shirt, complete with khakis and boat shoes. He would run his hands through his hair, chuckle, rub his eyes, and go merrily about whatever was so apparently interesting to him. It was nearly a pattern. Hair, chuckle, eyes, laptop.
He got up and walked up to the front to order more coffee. That is the sign of a true coffee drinker: getting two large coffees in one sitting. As he was standing in the front, I was laughing at something my cousin said as I usually do, and I happened to look up at him. As I laughed casually at whatever she had said, he caught my eye, and he smiled at me.
Now I wouldn't call myself ugly or unattractive, but it's not very common such a down to earth, hipster guy will look at me with that deepness of smile. It was that smile that only guys can smile: the smile of intrigue and honesty that they only smile at girls. That smile alone is the best compliment a girl can ever receive. I chuckled and whispered to my cousin as he walked out of view for a moment what he had done. I was flattered that the deep eyes had just smiled at mine.
He came back and sat down, continuing his pattern of rubbing his hands through his hair and chuckling. I watched him occasionally just to see what he was doing. He interested me. There was something so alive about him that made me want to strike up a conversation with him. So few humans nowadays seem alive. They appear dead inside. They don't smile. They don't talk. They don't do anything. He had a sense of carelessness and yet soul in him that I rarely see, but love it when I do. Which is just why he struck me as a character to write about when I saw him.
Sometimes when I happened to glance at him, he would glance at me.
Then we'd both glance away.
Then he would chuckle at his Mac and I would chuckle with my cousin.
And we'd go on about whatever we were doing.
Repeat.
I continued watching the man in the plaid shirt. And I kept wondering what he was like. Who his friends were. What he was laughing at. He just continued to sit there.
Run hands through hair.
Chuckle.
Rub eyes.
Repeat.
I continued talking with my cousin about life - college work, annotated bibliographies, prom, turning school work in late, YouTube. Until finally it was late and we had school work to do, both of us, and we gathered all of our things together to leave. I looked at the man in the plaid shirt. The 20-something plaid-clad young man didn't look up at me. I didn't care. Much. Tho I wanted one last look at his eyes - his sincere, careless, honest, down to earth eyes. His eyes alone would give me a story to write about.
I walked out the door, and I wondered - would the seemingly shy yet sanguine eyes look up when he thought I wasn't looking back?
I looked back.
And sure enough, I was right. His deep eyes looked up at me, and in him I saw that deepness of soul again. Rarely do I see those kinds of eyes. Rarely will I see them again. A lop-sided grin crossed his face.
Those eyes are inspiring of a story.
I think I'll be going back to that coffee shop soon.
Mostly to get coffee.
But maybe the deep soul filled eyes will be there again.
And the story can continue.

Summer Day

Today was a summer day. A typical, wonderful, beautiful summer day. It began this morning when I woke up around 8, really not wanting to get out of bed, thinking of the prospect of having absolutely nothing to do today. But I got up all the same. I'm amazed at how dedicated I've been this summer to getting up at a decent hour to exercise. And that is how I began my day. There is nothing more beautiful than walking down to the lake in my neighborhood and taking in the sun reflecting off the water and shining onto your face. There's nothing like feeling warmth slowly soaking into your skin, or feeling a neighbor's sprinkler hit you in the face. There's nothing like hearing slow laps of water against the soggy, muddy side of the lake. It's so beautiful. And honestly I'm thankful that I can begin the day like that. After getting my morning exercise, I wasted the rest of my morning on Facebook. Ah, such is summer. And the whole boring day stood looming before me. Until one of my best friends, Steven, texted me and my brother and asked us if we wanted to go out to lunch. And so off me and my brother went listening to Simon & Garfunkel, driving straight into a perfect and balmy day. We ate at our favorite pizza place - ricotta stuffed shells and garlic bread for me, thank you.
Then back to the house we went, Spencer still blasting Simon & Garfunkel for some unknown reason. Back at the house, my destiny loomed before me - cleaning baseboards in the hallway and bathroom, and doing geometry. A productive way to spend my afternoon, yes. A fun way, not quite. But I also knew I had a good thing to look forward to at the end of the afternoon. After scrubbing away at doors and baseboards for an hour and a half, I finished, did a lesson of geometry, and then I was off to Starbucks to hang out with Steven and Macy (my cousin). I got there about 15-30 minutes early, so I was delightfully lost in a book until Steven arrived, at which point we both grabbed and drink, and then proceeded to wait for Macy for 30 minutes until she finally got there, at which point we went to Barnes & Noble. Books galore. Banana chocolate smoothie that I can steal from Macy. Steven has to leave. Supper at 6:30. Macy and I hide in a corner and laugh over ridiculous things. Pavement is wet. Sky is gray. Run for the car.... the clouds are about to start crying over nothing. Chick-fil-a. Supper with Steven, Daniel, Drew, and their sissies Caroline and Elizabeth. <3 I love my buddies. They're the best. Chicken soup. Rain outside. Wet wet wet. Time to leave.
Back at home, I enjoyed spending my evening watching charlieissocoollike videos, and sitting out on the back porch with my mom eating an ice cream cone and watching the first fireflies of the year pop out and spark joy in my heart. Heard a train humming a tune a little while ago. A remorseful, nostalgic sort of hum. Now all I hear is the air conditioner quietly droning along with a chorus of crickets. I love crickets. They remind me of summer. Of camping. Of childhood. Of perfection. Of joy. Of an utter peace that I can't begin to express in the words of the English language. I love things that you can't express in words. They've got to be the best things.
Life is joyful.

Prom 2011

Last night was prom. And at the least, it was an adventure.....
So it all began about 8 yesterday morning when I got up. Since I had nothing to do but wait, I figured school wasn't a bad idea, so I went ahead and did a few things on that. But then, at 12:30, the party began. I went and got my hair done by my hair dresser, Kiersten. I did a braid across the front, which pulled around to the updo in the back. It was really cute... although the teasing part of it was kind of painful. After I was done with my hair, my cousin, Macy, got her hair done. She drove me home just in time to have my other friend, Marina, come over and get ready with us. Our discussion consisted of very promish topics. Specifically, "Oh my gosh, which eye shadow should I wear? Oh my gosh, your eyeliner is so pretty! Hmm.... should I put more foundation on?" That is the girls that we are.... and when you're getting ready for prom, that is the kind of thing you have to talk about, ya know?
Marina left about 4:20 or so, and then my boyfriend, Daniel, came and picked me up about 4:30ish. He gave me my flowers and I tried pinning on his boutonniere... and failed miserably. It either twisted or fell off at least two or three times that night. His little sisters and mom came inside too to see me. Gahh his little sisters are such cuties. After a couple of minutes, me, Daniel, my mom, and my brother Spencer went to go pick up Spencer's date, Mary Helen. After that it was off to our church to go get pictures. Our church is really big and has a ton of nice places to go get pictures at... specifically a little pond by the church with a lot of pathways back there. It's so beautiful, and I absolutely love the spot. Last year we had a group of 6, so we took a lot of time doing different groups... dates, family pictures, individual shots... well -this- year we had 14 people. So we threw the dates up there on the steps, took some pictures, ran them off and dragged the next couple up there. We were trying to get done before we had to run off to get to the restaurant. We took couple shots and a big group shot, and then we were off to Carrabba's to eat supper. I've only eaten there once, and I only remember it being okay. But it was amazing this time. We had a table by the window, we had an awesome waitress, and the food was incredible. I sat at one end of the table with Daniel and Macy and her date, Taylor. We mostly talked about... ah... let's see.... the bratty neighbor I used to have, tomatoes, Taylor's awesome purple tie..... things like that. And of course, at least once over the course of dinner all the girls have to go back to the bathroom to get pictures and talk. I mean. That's just a ritual among us girls. You just do it, because that's what you've always done. But what is -so- utterly hilarious is when you're walking past and every human being there is staring a hole through you. I didn't pass by one table where the people didn't stare at us the whole time we were passing. The second we got into the bathroom, we were in fits of laughter.... it's really quite difficult to not laugh when all these people are staring at you. We got pictures of hair, touched our makeup up, had several women walk in and tell us we looked gorgeous.... the typical routine. So that was our general experience at Carrabba's.
After we finished eating, we went to the cute little local coffee shop I talked about a few weeks ago. We were all schnazzy walking in with our prom dresses and suits. We all got some coffee and/or desserts, and sat down and talked for a little bit. Everything was going great. Everything was fantastic. -Until-...... we decided it was time to leave. You see, my dad had been driving us around, and he was outside waiting for us to get ready to leave. So I was walking outside to tell him we were ready to leave. It was a pull door, and I had a lot of stuff in my hands, which included a nearly full cup of coffee. Oh joy. I couldn't open it, so I pulled it harder. And there it went. Coffee straight down my prom dress. Not just a couple of spots. A huge streak dripping down my dress. ~sigh~ What I get for being stupid. Anyway, I told my dad we were ready, went back inside, and showed Holly my dress. My brother was already off getting napkins for me to dry it up with... but I was still very unhappy about the predicament. We drove over to the beautiful ballroom where we have prom at every year. I walked in and complained to anyone who would listen that I had spilled coffee down my dress. Thankfully it was dark in the room, and it fell on a crease, so it looked like a shadow, even in the light.[our schnazzy group.... from left to right, back row: Sarah, Spencer, Taylor, Drew, Steven, Daniel, and Josh.
From left to right, front row: Mary Helen, Macy, Holly, Charity, me, Alana, and Rachel]


Once we got there, the party started. Literally. When Steven (Daniel's older brother) walked into the room, everyone started cheering. He's only that awesome. We started dancing and having the time of our lives. It was so nice to have all of my friends there, and to be able to have some crazy awesome dancing going on. Really there isn't much to say about the first 45 minutes or so... we just danced like crazy. I thought I was going to have a heart attack a couple of times, 'cause every time I was about to get off the dance floor, either I heard a song I knew and -had- to dance to it, or someone would ask me to dance. Gosh. But it was so much fun, I didn't care. Although I did have one minor mishap. In the middle of one dance I was in a group dancing, and my bracelet just fell off. Well, no big deal, I thought, I can latch it back together. I thought the little latch had come undone, and I thought I could fix it. But when I picked it up, I found it had broken in the middle for no reason whatsoever. By that time, I was a little less than happy. Coffee on my dress. Bracelet broken. I figured the night would go down hill from there.... thankfully, though, I was unmistakably wrong.
Finally they had the senior lead out, which was so sad this year, having all of these people I knew graduating. It was sad, and yet I was so happy for them too. After the senior dance, we all went back on the floor dancing even more than before. I danced with a bunch of my girlfriends, and with 7 or 8 of my guy friends. It was loads of fun. I can't really describe much that happened because it was all a big blur. I remember some particular dances, but generally all I remember is just being with everyone and having a joyful time. <3 Although I do remember doing the hokie pokie. And a Green Day song where four of my friends went up on the stage and played air guitar, bass, drums, and did some lip-syncing. The DJ had awesome music, in general. Except when he played Friday. I'd say about 90% of the kids left the dance floor the second the song came on. What was hilarious is the DJ must have been playing it off of an iPhone or something, because there was a huge beep in the middle of the song (probably a text message) which stopped it. Everyone cheered and immediately went back on the floor. Of course there are plenty of songs that home schoolers don't listen to... -wink- but since your dancing you usually don't pay attention to the lyrics. Thankfully. The only other song I can complain about was when I was dancing with my friend Joel, and it was talking about this guy killing himself.... it was so morbid and both of us were cracking up.
All I can say is it was an awesometastic prom, ten thousand times better than last year, even though last year was amazing too.
After we finished prom, we had an after prom breakfast at our house, as usual, and sat around and ate junk food. I could tell I was really, really tired by the end of it, because I was laughing hysterically at things that I usually think are stupid or annoying. Of course, it was about 1:30 in the morning and I had danced for nearly 3 hours straight, so it's somewhat understandable. Soon... too soon for my taste, everyone left, and prom for 2011 was over. Which made me sad, but it was so much fun I almost didn't care it was over. I have so many amazing memories from this year.
So that was prom from this year, and a fantastic one at that. I don't know how my junior or senior years will be able to top this year. This year was boss.

~piano~

One thing has been on my mind this whole week. What? Piano. Why? Probably because I had two piano competitions this week. Okay... so one of them wasn't an actual competition, but it was an evaluation where you play in front of a judge, which to me is just as bad as a competition. This whole week I've been practicing piano like crazy. Lots of my free time went into playing and practicing and going through things over and over and over. Mostly I've been worried about the concerto I've been playing. I've only had it about 6 or 7 months, and that isn't exactly long enough to learn a 10 minute piece to play in front of a judge. I didn't really have it down until... well... honestly, yesterday. I thought I was ready to go and show the judges that I was the most incredible pianist ever.
Well... today came the competitions. The first one, Festival, like I said was just an evaluation. But I had my concerto first. Without warming up. BAD idea. My concerto.... I bombed it. It died. I failed. It was absolutely awful... at best. Okay, honestly, it wasn't so bad that I forgot where I was and had to stop or anything like that. But I missed so many notes (or even two or three measures at some points), it was pretty bad. Some of it actually wasn't too bad. Other parts, I'd rather have erased from my memory. But that was the piece I was most nervous about. So when it was over, it was over. And goodness gracious was I happy about it being over. I played a couple of hymns for the same judge, and then I was done with that judge. Thankfully. And I hope I never see her again because it would be an embarrassment after how I played.
Anyway, I was done with the concerto, so pretty much all of my jitters went away. I had two more pieces to play - one being the Scherzo section of a Beethoven sonata, and the other piece is called Soft Lights. I went in to see the next judge, who listened to those two pieces. They went quite fantastically, for the most part. Understandably, though, because I've been playing the sonata for over a year, and Soft Lights is slow and not terribly difficult either. So I was done with that. I was done with Festival. As far as I know, I got a superior in my hymns and solo pieces. My concerto? I don't even want to know what awful comments I got. But it's okay - thankfully things like that don't upset me much.
This afternoon, though, I had the real competition. The big deal. The thing that actually counted. Amusingly enough, I was immensely less nervous about this. Reason being, I didn't have to touch my concerto again. No more concerto playing for another scary judge. This competition was at 3:15 for me. I played the sonata and Soft Lights again, amusingly enough for the same judge that I played them for this morning. But I was glad to have him, because he seemed very amiable and fair. I played my sonata, and felt a little more shaky on it than I did the previous morning, but it wasn't too bad. And like I said, the judge seemed fair, and he seemed to be the kind of judge who would be lenient, and understand being nervous and such (and heaven knows I get nervous... sometimes my hands shake so bad that I completely fail at a piece). I then played Soft Lights... and rocked it. It was nearly perfect. Maybe one or two minor slip ups, but besides that it went marvelously. I walked out. I was done with all competitions. Joy and freedom and release. Quite honestly, I hate piano competitions. Playing for my own pleasure, okay, that's the epitome of fun. Playing for a judge under pressure with my hands shaking and me messing up every two notes? No thank you. Anyway, I felt pretty good about it, but I wasn't sure if I was going on to state. My dad and I waited outside for the last two students to play, and then the judge would announce who was going to state. Finally, they were finished. All the students stood in a row looking intently at the judge. My heart was beating faster and faster. The judge finally said, "And the winner for the 10th grade students...." He announced the name of some random girl I didn't know. I figured there was only one winner per grade, so I felt kind of disappointed. I had wanted to win, but it wasn't a big deal. But then... he called out my name. My name. Like. My name. MY name. I wanted to scream and dance around like a chicken with it's head cut off. Okay, unpleasant imagery, terribly sorry, but really, I was unbelievably excited! I couldn't believe I had actually made it to state! My teacher was super excited too (especially after the concerto fiasco this morning). And so I had done it. I was immediately texting my boyfriend, calling my mom.... it was an awesome moment.
In fact... my dad and I were so excited we celebrated with some Starbucks and their awesome new petite desserts (they're so cute and yummy), and then my dad took me to Barnes & Noble and told me to go get a book that I wanted to buy... which of course, happened to be a music book. ;) It's the piano solos from the new version of Pride & Prejudice (okay, I'm not a huge fan of the movie, but the music is gorgeous).
So. That was my day. Filled with too much piano for my taste. But it was quite marvelous and I had a wonderful time. <3
Have a blessed Sunday!

Coffee & Antique Saturday

I have to say that today was quite an exquisite day. Nothing terribly special. But I have a feeling I'm going to remember this day very well. Today was the first Saturday in probably two or three months when there wasn't something going on, so my mom and I seized the day and decided to do some fun stuff. Our first stop was the florist, because my dad and I are going to a Father Daughter Dinner at our church tomorrow night, and I have to have flowers. They're super pretty. Pink & white roses. Doesn't exactly match my blue dress, but they were nearly out of flowers, so it was all I could get. After getting the flowers, we returned home to eat a quick lunch, and then we scurried out in some drizzly weather to go to a furniture store downtown. It was quite a nice little place, and rather frigid cold, might I add. But my mom is redoing a lot of our living room & library, so she wants some new chairs and such. After going there, we went to a quaint and almost eccentric local coffee shop. They have just recently redone a lot of it, and I was so excited. The place is rather large now, with lots of couches and little deviant chairs in the nice nooks and crannies that little local coffee shops seem to have. My mom and I got some coffee and went off to a nice couch in about the middle of the coffee shop, where it was convenient for me to observe some of the people who were in the coffeehouse. I had a marvelous time picking out people and deciding what kind of life they lived, or what kind of personality they have. The thing I love about this cafe is it has the truly beatnik people there. Starbucks, okay, it has some beatnik people from time to time. But local coffeehouses have that particular type of person that is just so interesting to watch. You know the kind. The guy in the corner with skinny jeans and a goatee and glasses. Or the girl with a cute beret reading a book of free verse poetry. For some reason I love to watch those kinds of people and guess about their lives. They're so different, and have a free personality, of sorts. Today I got to observe a young man, probably 25-ish, reading a book while listening to probably some alternative music, sitting in a nook, wearing a rather beatnik hat. And a girl who I believe works at Starbucks came in wearing something like a beret. And then there was a college student, who my mom and I both believed to be a medical student. Oh. And the guy in the corner playing his banjo the whole time. It was... to put it plain and simple - awesome.
After we went to the coffeehouse, we went off to a cute little antique mall. I haven't been to an antique mall in a while, so I was very excited to be able to go. My mom and I quietly walked through all the hallways filled with... well... mostly junk. But every now and then I found a cool little treasure. There was even an exquisitely elegant wedding dress with a full train in there. It was gorgeous... but unfortunately, I have no need for one yet, so I had to pass it by. ~wink~ There were also several beautiful paintings in there, and chairs that could be reupholstered, and little nick-nacks and such. But none were such to my taste that I actually bought anything. But they were excellent picture material, which unfortunately, I didn't realize until about 15 minutes before we left (I'm still training my photographer eye, you see). But in the time that I did take pictures, I got some neat ones, which are the ones you see scattered throughout this post. Anyway, my mom ended up buying a couple of chairs that she had been looking at for about a week now. They are in desperate need of reupholstering, but they're rather cute chairs. I may do a post of them being reupholstered, so we'll see.
Anyway, that is a summary of my delightful day spent with my mom on this dreary, drizzly, but most fantastic Saturday.

So I hope all of you have a blessed Sunday. Love to all

~Madison