Dres-Man

            Okay, I know the week vacay is not even half over yet but I'm gonna go ahead and call the highlight right now.  This morning I got to video chat with my little brother Andy, whom I affectionately call Dres, who is studying abroad in South Africa.  I hadn't seen his face in way too long (almost 2 months!) and I was thrilled to get to catch up on what is going on in his world.  He is loving life.  Spending his days surfing and bungee jumping...oh and a little class on the side.  I. am. jealous.

Hey Dres!

P.S. Andy informed me that my last post was a little misleading so I would like to clarify.  I am not spending this week on the yacht pictured in the post below.  I am spending the week at Fox Point which is located on the Langford Creek, (a tributary off of the Chesapeake Bay), which is the water featured in that picture.  Sorry for any confusion :-)

Time for a little R&R

            Well, we did it.  We managed to finish our summer finals without our heads exploding and with only a few minor meltdowns.  And now comes the fun part when we will be lying comatose, poolside, with a cocktail in hand for the next 7 days.  I plan on only using my brain to decide what to have for lunch and what beach novel to read next.  And this is where I will be doing all of that...

Don't mind if I do.

Almost There

            Hey everybody!  So it’s finals time once again in grad school land, (don’t ya feel like I’m always saying this?  I do.), and so I have been completing take home exams, writing treatment plans, and generally complaining about how miserable life is at this moment.  Sleep has been hard to come by and as a result I have been a little grumpy.  And remembering to be thankful for anything is probably at the bottom of my To-Do list.  Well…that was until I discovered a little gem that I think everyone should check out.  It is a blog written by a girl named Leah who writes thank you notes about everything.  I mean everything.  She even has a thank you note written to a Family Guy shot glass.  And though this may seem absolutely crazy, I think it’s a pretty stellar way to go through life.  Finding the silver lining and always thinking in glass half full mode.  Though I can’t say this is how I always live my life, it is something to strive for, right?  So CLICK HERE for a smile and your daily dose of gratitude.

Though I am a long way from giving in to my heavy eye lids tonight, considering that my Voice Disorders final is looming just 18 hours away, I thought this was pretty appropriate.

And in the meantime, this is how the ladies of the hotel are getting by!

Summertime at the Frist

             Nashville is a city of the arts.  From the struggling wannabe country singer on the streets of downtown to the fabulous art displayed in the privately owned galleries scattered throughout East Nashville, this city has no shortage off creativity.  Which is why I was thrilled to get the chance to check out the new exhibits at the Frist Center for Visual Arts when my sister was in town.  I didn’t include this in my post about her visit because honestly, I was so blown away by these exhibits that I decided they deserved a post of their own.  The first exhibit we toured was titled, “The Golden Age of Couture” and displayed garments from the most glamorous fashion houses in London and Paris during the years following World War II.  Annnnnd, I die.  The exhibit was organized by the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, which is another reason I loved it so much.  I have a slight obsession with London…and I may have visited four times while I was studying abroad in Barcelona and forced my then-boyfriend to do things like ride double-decker buses, take pictures in big red phone booths, and sing along to every song in Mary Poppins the musical.  Could ya blame me?

In the words of Rachel Zoe...this dress is bananas.

Pure sass...I love it.

So Mary Poppins :-)

Perfect polka dots.

            The second exhibit showing at the Frist at the moment is featuring Dale Chihuly’s blown glass and it is amazing.  It includes nine installations and a documentary called “Chihuly in the Hotshop” that shows how each of them was created.  The pictures don’t do it justice (especially since pictures were strictly prohibited so I had to be extra sneaky) but it blew me away.  I highly recommend it!

Home Sweet Hotel

            That’s right people…last Saturday was moving day and I am now settled in my new hotel, er, house.  It only feels like a hotel with my six other roommates (plus the adorable four legged one)!  And though I am absolutely thrilled with my new digs, getting moved in was an complete nightmare and I think I might have to live in this house until I am 85 years old because I am not planning on moving again any time soon.  The whole move started out just fine.  By noon on Saturday I was pretty much all packed up and had transferred a few carloads of smaller things to the new house.  All that was left was the big stuff that I could not lift on my own and that was going to be handled by Bo’s Moving Company.  Now I know you are thinking, “Bo’s Moving Company?  You really think they will be legit with a name like that?”  But they came highly recommended by my friend Lauren who used them a few weeks ago.  She assured me that though the men who moved her belongings looked like they were addicted to crystal meth (reassuring, right?) they were fast and cheap.  And that sounded just right to this broke grad school grandma.

            Little did I know, Bo’s Moving Company wasn’t going to be moving my stuff.  Instead they were going to be hanging up on me, refusing to show up, telling me I should call someone else, hanging up on me again, telling me they were too busy and too tired, hanging up on me, screening my calls, hanging up on me again and making me cry.  So I would like to just take a moment and bad mouth them to all 5 of my blog stalkers.  Feel free to spread the word.

            But after all the drama had subsided a little bit, my amazing new roommates helped me move all of my furniture and boxes until 1am Sunday morning.  They even made me take a break to eat some fro-yo at Sweet CeCe’s despite my claims that I had no appetite.  And on Sunday?  Well Marie may have driven my box spring up the street on top of my car while Keeley and I hung out the window and held on for dear life.  You do whatcha gotta do, right?  And though we all felt like we’d been hit by a moving truck by the time Monday morning rolled around, I have all my stuff in one place and am officially a resident at the hotel!

Still a work in progress...

P.S.  Bo’s Moving Company…I hate you.